“You know what, Shirley? I just had the clearest image of Great Grandma Rosa in my mind. And without any doubt, I knew what she was thinking. Rosa doesn’t give a darn what the law or anyone else thinks. She just does what she thinks is right. And I will too.” She leaned across and laid her fingers on Shirley’s arm, her eyes serious. “You have my word. I’ll say nothing to the police. To Louise and Scott, yes, but not the police.”
Shirley closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. “All right, then. I’ll tell you.”
21
Chook Goes Hunting
The question was, Chook thought as he drove in the direction of the Mowbray property, whether she’d actually be there. It was his last hope. If there was no Jayco motorhome at this place, no Shirley, then she’d probably gone to the coast. And then he’d have the devil’s own job finding her. Unless, maybe, he hired a private detective. To do that, he’d need money, and to get money, he’d have to steal it.
Well, it would be worth it if he could find her and get rid of her, take over her RV. But first, he’d have to get the money out of her; what she’d given him hadn’t lasted long. His usual bad luck, he reflected bitterly.
He’d had a nice little business going on the side until his adoptive father had gone and died and ruined it all.
His eyes went to the clock on the dash, which was still set at Victorian daylight saving time. So if the clock said eleven fifteen, it was really only ten-fifteen here in Queensland.
He turned his thoughts to the campground. Since it was private property, he’d probably have to stop at the house to pay before moving on to the camping area. Maybe he could just make a casual enquiry first, ask if he could drive to the campground and check it out before deciding to stay. If Shirley’s motorhome was there, he’d park well away from her, in a quiet spot. He wouldn’t get out of the car unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, and she wouldn’t have a clue who was driving the decrepit white van. She’d probably think he was a backpacker in a cheap set of wheels.
What if there were lots of other people around? He couldn’t start chatting in case she turned up.
Chook heaved a sigh. First things first. She might not even be there.
Then, on his left, he spotted the MOWBRAY sign on a gate, and slowed down.
Here goes.
Scott and his father stood watching the pall of smoke, rolling slowly closer from the fire spreading in the bushland to the east of Mount Tamborine. They could smell it, now, carried on the strengthening wind.
“Ready to move?” said his father at last.
“Yeah.” Scott looked at him. “You and mum coming?”
A muscle in his father’s jaw jumped. “We decided a long time ago there’s no point in staying to fight a fire and losing your life. Don’t think it’ll come to that, but we’re leaving anyway.”
Scott gave his father a rough hug. “It’ll be OK. The Fireys are containing it, they say.”
“For now. I don’t like the way that wind is strengthening. Anyway.” Stoic as ever, Tony Mowbray pulled his cap more firmly on his head and set his jaw. “You go and lead them into Craig’s place. I’ll get Louise and we’ll be on our way.”
A flash of white caught Scott’s eye, and he glanced down the approach road. A battered white panel van was making its way towards them. “Looks like you’ve got another camper. Backpacker, I’d guess. Want me to go and see him?”
“No, I’ll do it. You go and get the others moving.”
“All right. See you in there.”
Everyone was hitched up and waiting for him. Scott set off down to the campground, not even willing to think about what it would mean to his father if he lost his home to a bushfire.
Chook saw the man waiting for him outside the sprawling bungalow at the top of the road. Another bloke was heading off downhill, and as he got to the house, Chook could see four rigs down in a paddock bordered by the creek, all looking ready to head on out.
One of them was a Jayco motorhome. Small. Looked exactly like Shirley’s.
He’d found her. He’d freakin’ found her. He could scarcely believe it.
He rolled down the window and gave the big bloke waiting for him his version of a charming smile. “Hi there. I hear in town that you’ve got a campground here?”
“We do,” said the bloke, “but we’re just clearing them out. You know there’s a fire in the area, right?”
Chook cast a glance at the smoke, still a good distance away. “Well, yeah, but it’s not anywhere near here.”
“Now it isn’t,” said the bloke. “We’re hoping it won’t be, but we’re not taking any chances. Everyone’s evacuating to my brother’s place. He’s got a larger area of clear land.”
“Oh yeah?” Chook felt his smile grow fixed. For Pete’s sake, he’d got this far and now he had to go somewhere else? “How do I get there?”
“Just down the road a bit.” The bloke gestured down towards the RVs, where Chook could see the other guy climbing into the driver’s seat of a LandCruiser hitched up to one of those fancy big outback caravans. “You can follow us in if you don’t know where to go.”
“Right.” Chook nodded at him, thinking furiously. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, so he’d need to hang back. “I’ll just back up, follow the rest of you. Thanks.”
“No worries.” The bloke turned without another word and went towards the house.
Follow them? It wasn’t ideal, but he’d have to do it, or he ran the risk of losing her again. But if Shirley caught a glimpse of him, even with his new haircut and in a cap and sunglasses, she’d recognize him for sure.
He’d stay in the background, keep to himself, and pay her a little visit under cover of darkness.
If he played it right, he could drive away in the motorhome with Shirley inside it, suitably restrained, and nobody would know what had happened to her.
But then what would he do with his van? He ran through the possibilities. He could drive it out under cover of darkness, leave it out in the scrub somewhere until he could come back for it.
Maybe he could just put a match to it. It was a heap of junk anyway.
One problem after another.
Huh. It would all be worth it in the end.
22
Circle the Wagons
“I feel like I’m in an old Western movie,” Georgie said out of the window to Scott while she expertly backed the caravan into a spot along the fence that formed the boundary of the safe area in his uncle’s property next door. “Talk about circling the wagons.”
“There are a lot more people opting to come here than I thought,” Scott said. “The RFS blokes have just escorted another lot here. Looks like nobody feels safe at the other campgrounds.” He moved away and walked beside the 4WD that was backing in another caravan next to them, directing the driver, a man who, judging from the angle he’d chosen, didn’t appear to have a lot of experience reversing trailers.
Georgie turned off the engine and jumped out to unhitch. There wasn’t anywhere else that was safer than here right now, so they weren’t likely to have to leave in a hurry. Meanwhile, Scott needed to have the car free so he could leave at a moment’s notice to help out if needed.
Shirley was reversing in about three spaces away. Given Scott’s certainty that Jason was drawing closer, she would feel happier if Shirley was right beside them. Still, it wasn’t likely that she would come to any harm here, with so many people around. It wasn’t even likely that Jason would find his way here; it wasn’t a regular camping area.
She hadn’t yet had a chance to tell Scott what was really making Shirley panic. The poor woman—when she’d heard her story, Georgie found it hard to believe that Jason could be so cruel to someone whose husband was dying. Especially when it was his father who needed his help.
It was hard to know what to do. Somehow, they had to find a way to remove the threat of Jason once and for all. How that was going to happen, Georgie didn’t have the slightest idea.
<
br /> She worked swiftly to detach the weight distribution hitches and the 12-pin plug, jacked up the Trailer Mate and locked the stabilizer legs into place. When that was done, she moved the LandCruiser forward a few inches so it was clear of the hitch. Just as she was finishing, Scott walked up. “There are a few more people coming in. I’ll go and help direct the traffic—can you keep an eye out for anyone who needs a hand reversing their rig?” He indicated a nervous-looking woman in an older four-wheel-drive, towing a small caravan, who was creeping along slowly looking for somewhere to park.
“Sure.” Georgie slipped the car keys into her pocket and jogged up to the car window to talk to the woman.
“Hi. I’m Georgie. Want a hand backing this up?”
“Oh. Thank you. I’m Jane.” She looked relieved. “I haven’t been doing this for long—I usually stay in places where I don’t have to reverse the caravan.”
For a moment Georgie debated whether to offer to do it for her, but decided it would be better for Jane to get some practice doing it herself. “You’ll get the hang of it, don’t worry. Okay—Ready? Keep driving toward me until I tell you to stop.”
Georgie had been reversing trailers and jumping in and out of trucks for so many years at her father’s RV Empire that she didn’t give the process a second thought, but she could still empathize with somebody who was completely new to it.
She walked backwards, motioning Jane towards her, until she judged the distance was about right. “Okay. That’s good.” She put her hand on the driver’s window. “I’ll just walk beside you and tell you what to do.” She grinned at the other woman. “At least when you’re parking in a paddock, you don’t have to worry about lining it up with a concrete slab. Now, right hand down on the wheel and start reversing slowly. Good… more right hand down… That’s good, now put it in drive and take it forward a bit to straighten up.” She continued with the instructions until Jane was neatly parked with the back of her small van a short distance from the fence.
“Perfect! There you go. Keep doing that you’ll be an expert in no time.”
Jane laughed with relief. “Yeah, right. As long as somebody is standing at the window telling me what to do.”
“If you’re not busy later, come and find me.” Georgie pointed back to her caravan. “I’m in the Jabiru Outback just up there. And if you’re traveling on your own, go and introduce yourself to Shirley, in the Jayco motorhome.” She indicated Shirley’s motorhome. “She’s traveling solo as well.” She winked at Jane. “Tell her Georgie sent you.”
Pleased with her work, she left Jane to get settled. Suggesting that she find Shirley had been an inspired idea, even if she did say so herself. Her nasty stepson would not be likely to approach if she had company.
By early afternoon, about fifteen RVs of all shapes and sizes had made their way to Craig Mowbray’s safe paddock. Some of them had been escorted by Rural Fire Service volunteers, others had been alerted to the option by Scott, doing the rounds of the campgrounds.
Louise and Tony had opted to stay in the main house with Tony’s brother Craig and his wife Kathy, but they drove down to the paddock to check on everyone after lunch, pulling up near Georgie’s caravan.
Louise surveyed the row of RVs, backed up against the fence in a semi-circle ready for an orderly exit when required. “Wow. We ended up with a few here, didn’t we? This looks organized enough for an army exercise. Nice work, guys.” Her eyes went to the smoke visible in the distance. “I don’t think we’ve got anything to worry about, but at least everyone can rest easy now.”
“Everyone’s getting on well, mingling and swapping stories,” Georgie told her. “There are a couple of people who seem to want to keep to themselves down the end there, but you always get that. We’ve planned a communal meal later. No barbecues, of course, since there’s a total fire ban, but everyone’s contributing something.”
“Right.” Louise nodded at Shirley’s motorhome, three spaces distant. “How’s Shirley doing?”
“That’s what I have to talk with you about. And Scott, I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet. Want to come in now, while Shirley’s busy chatting with Jane?”
At Louise’s nod, she beckoned to Scott, who was about ten paces away talking to a couple of men.
“You won’t believe her story,” Georgie told Louise and Tony, leading the way inside. “You’ve heard most of it, but the rest…I’m not sure what to do. Maybe you’ll have some ideas.”
23
Danger Ever Closer
Georgie and Scott sat opposite his parents in their caravan. They had drawn the reflective shades to shut out the heat, and the 12-volt fan was whirring softly. It wasn’t doing much to alleviate the heat, but at least it was a breeze of sorts. The bare paddock they were in might be an excellent place to take shelter with a bushfire threatening, but there wasn’t a single tree to offer shade.
“I need to give you a quick update while Shirley’s not around,” Georgie began. She glanced from Tony to Scott, glad that there were two good men who could help to protect Shirley if Jason came after her. “I’ll keep it brief. Tony, Louise has brought you up to date with what we know?”
“She has,” Tony said, his eyes growing hard. “That boy of hers had better not come anywhere near her while we’re around.”
“We’ve found out more since then. Scott and I both did a reading early this morning, and put two and two together with an item we saw on the late night news.”
Louise leaned forward, her eyes alive with interest. “I saw the news. Can’t remember anything that might apply to her stepson, unless he’s turned into a bad-boy football legend.”
“Don’t think he’s really the sporty type,” Georgie said dryly. “But you know he’s been arrested before on drugs charges…?” She arched an eyebrow, waiting for the penny to drop.
Louise narrowed her eyes in thought. “There was only that woman growing—oh!” Realization dawned on her face. “Oh, my goodness. Medicinal marijuana—the husband with cancer. Don’t tell me Shirley was growing it for her husband?”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“Jason was growing it? At their house?”
“Jason was a supplier. Shirley told me that one night when she was out, babysitting for her daughter, Jason came home and found Norm moaning in pain. He gave him a toke; told him it would help. Norm had never had it before in his life, but he was desperate.”
“Instant pain relief?” Louise said.
“I don’t know how instant it was, but evidently it gave him some relief. Shirley was furious, she said, when she walked in and found him smoking it, but when she realized that it had done more for him than anything else so far, she forced herself to say nothing. She let Jason keep supplying it, but then she started researching it online. She tried vaporizers, and then started watching videos to find out how to extract oil.”
Louise nodded in empathy. “Getting in deeper and deeper?”
“She discovered that some strains of cannabis were better than others, to give the pain relief without so much of a high. She didn’t know how to get it—but Jason did.” She paused, and added, “He made her pay for it. Thousands more than it was worth.”
Scott’s father let out a muted curse. Everyone looked at him. Tony Mowbray was usually one of the calmest men around.
“Sorry. Doing that to Shirley…to his father. He should have been drowned at birth,” he said shortly.
Scott nodded in agreement, his face equally grim.
“He started asking for more and more money, both to give her what she wanted and as the price for him to keep quiet about it. Said she was now on the other side of the law, so she could stop being so high and mighty about him.”
“Surely,” Scott said, “it wouldn’t matter now if anyone found out. It’s in the past, it was for her husband. And she could deny it all anyway.”
“Maybe so,” Georgie agreed, “but it got complicated. One night Jason came running in, told Shirley that if she wanted him to cont
inue supplying what she needed, that she had to back him up saying he’d been home all night, keeping his father company. If not, he’d tell the police what she’d been doing. Tell them it was her growing weed in the backyard, not him.”
Louise shook her head. “I can guess what happened next.”
“Yes. Within hours the police were at the door asking to see him, and she did what he wanted; gave him an alibi. They looked in on Norm and saw how sick he was. They left again. And the next day, Shirley found out that Jason had been involved in a robbery.” She paused. “One that went wrong.”
“Not a death,” Louise said, her hand going to her mouth. “Please, tell me…”
“No, but a guard was seriously injured. Jason told her it wasn’t him, it was one of the others, but later that day she overheard him on the phone. He said enough for her to know he’d been the one with the gun.”
“And she’d given him an alibi,” Scott said slowly. “What happened to the guard?”
“He survived, but had to quit work. Took him a long while to recover. Shirley kept track. She felt so guilty that she anonymously gave more money to his family.”
“Poor Shirley.” Louise looked pained. “A good person, trapped by circumstances and a monster for a stepson.”
“That’s pretty much it,” Georgie said. “Before Norm got cancer, they’d almost paid off their house. By the time he died she’d used up almost all of the money in the mortgage equity loan—which was substantial—and the mortgage repayments had ballooned. She couldn’t afford to keep up the payments, so she sold up. Bought the motorhome, gave Jason more money as the price of his silence, and hit the road.”
For a moment the four of them just sat there looking at each other.
“And now he’s after her again,” Tony finally said. “He’ll want more money, no doubt.”
Good Intentions Page 11
