Rosa’s free hand reached back and clamped on her forearm. “You feel pain?”
“A sudden headache.”
“Not anywhere else? Chest, legs, anywhere?”
“No. Why?”
“Sometimes, it can mean an injury in a particular part of the body. A headache is usually just tied to the difficulty of getting a message. Was for me, anyway.”
The pain abruptly lessened and became a dull ache, and Georgie sighed with relief. “What about you? Are you getting anything?”
“No.” The desolation in Rosa’s voice was heart-breaking. “Not a thing.”
So it’s down to me, Georgie thought. I’m right, though: something’s going to happen to Tammy, or Jerry, or both.
Once more, she tried opening her mind to the meaning hidden in the tea leaves, but the more she tried to concentrate, the more her headache throbbed.
“I can’t do any more.” Reaching down to take the cup from Rosa, she saw her great-grandmother’s hand trembling. She squeezed the old woman’s shoulder, and returned to her own chair, seeing her own fear reflected in Rosa’s eyes.
“What should we do?” she asked.
“Tell them what you’ve seen,” said Rosa. “Do it now. Danger in a forested area, from unknown people. It’s better than nothing.”
Georgie swallowed hard and told her: “Jerry was going to get Tammy to talk to his Preppers. Something about guns.”
“Oh my Lord. Go. Go now.”
“But your nurse…”
“I won’t move until she gets back. Go on, don’t dilly dally!”
Georgie gave her great-grandmother a hug and a kiss, snatched up her bag with the useless crystal ball, and left, her heart thumping erratically.
Chapter 5
Earlier that morning, bumping his way along a corrugated track in northern Kentucky, Jerry had been feeling particularly happy and pleased with the world. As he drove he whistled a prepper’s song that one of his cashed-up survivalist customers had taught him. The words were set to the tune of John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy”, which was nice and easy to remember. The re-vamped chorus had nothing about country boys, but ran along the lines of ‘thank God I’m a prepper now’, while the rest of the song had bits and pieces about a world under attack and putting the pedal to the metal. It kind of appealed to Jerry. Every so often he broke off whistling to sing the parts that he could remember, while occasionally glancing at the GPS.
They’d be waiting for him about twenty miles from the turnoff, Vincent had told him, and he’d done nigh on eighteen miles now, so he’d have to be getting close.
The truck crashed down into another pothole, which didn’t faze him in the slightest. He was in the Jerry B. Goode BugOut Barbarian—“Barbie” for short—the best prepper vehicle they’d produced yet, and Vincent was about to put it through its paces and then order his own if he was satisfied.
Like there was anyone who tried it who wasn’t satisfied. You couldn’t stop this baby.
Hello, quarter of a million dollars!
Jerry took his hand off the wheel for a moment to reached over and pat himself on the back, and then rounded a bend to find a lean, fit boss-man type and another huge guy who must be the hired gorilla waiting by the side of the road, leaning on a 4WD. It was parked next to the entry point of an overgrown track.
Jerry slowed, and stuck his head out of the window. “You’d be Vincent?”
“I would.” The guy moved his lips in a movement that might have been a smile, and moved forward to pat the rugged side of BugOut Barbie. “Lookin’ good there, Jer. Can’t wait to try this one out.” He moved closer, his face wary and his dark eyes sharp. “You sure nobody followed you here?”
“Absolutely certain,” Jerry assured him. Man, these guys were paranoid. Always afraid that someone was going to find out about their bug-out vehicles and burrows in the ground—or a fortress on some hill with its back to a rugged rock wall.
“You didn’t put the coordinates on a computer where people can find them, nothin’ like that?”
“The only coordinates are in here,” Jerry assured him, tapping on the GPS screen. He grinned. “I ate the piece of paper I jotted them down on.”
Vincent looked at him without smiling. “You can laugh, but when things go to hell you’ll be knocking on my door like everyone else.”
“I know, I know. Just having a bit of fun with you, man.” Jerry reached out and knocked knuckles with him. “We take security seriously at the RV Empire.”
“Hackers can get in anywhere.”
“Your details are not on our computers, right? Not on my phone, not written down anywhere. Nobody’s going to find you. Nobody that you don’t want to, anyway.”
“Okay.” Vincent unbent a little. “Follow us, then.”
Jerry watched him swing into his truck with the other guy—who looked just as suspicious— and rolled his eyes.
Quarter of a million, he reminded himself. It wasn’t money anyone would invest lightly. You had to expect a bit of paranoia from guys who were willing to spend this kind of money.
He put Barbie into gear and swung in past a couple of scraggy bushes to follow them.
He couldn’t wait to see their bunker.
~~~
Back at the vintage trailer division of the RV Empire, Tammy stood back and surveyed the newest retro-style trailer. For two guys who basically didn’t give a rat’s about vintage, Jerry and his dad had nailed their customer base. They’d picked four basic shapes—one modeled on the Airstream, another on the Shasta, and a couple of others in between—and offered a range of embellishments to give any mock-vintage trailer the exact look the customer wanted. Any color, any decals, rounded windows, square windows…it was all there for the asking.
The new trailer was pink and white, shaped like a lozenge, and looked good enough to eat. Inside were ruffled curtains with a polka dot trim and delicate china cups in fairy floss pink and pale green. Totally irresistible. Tammy nodded in satisfaction, tweaked the polka dot cloth on the round table outside it, and thought about whether a hint of jet black here and there might add some vibrancy to the mood.
“Hey Tams,” came a voice behind her. “It’s gorgeous. Did you do the interior?”
“Georgie, hi.” Tammy turned and gave her a quick hug. “I had a hand in it. How’s Rosa?”
“Cranky, in pain, and frustrated at being confined to barracks. Pretty much what you’d expect… yet I think she was happy to see me.”
Tammy looked at her keenly, noting the smile. “You sound surprised.”
“Well, Rosa and I have always had an up-and-down relationship. It’s changing, I think, because of the crystal ball and the Sight thing.” Her forehead creased. “Tams…about that…”
Tammy had known Georgie long enough to recognize that particular inflection in her voice. Her friend had something to say, and was unsure of how it would be received. She sat in one of the black wrought iron chairs at the small table, and indicated the other one. “What’s up?”
Georgie sat in the second chair, sitting forward uncomfortably, her hands clenched in her lap. Her eyes held Tammy’s.
“Tams, I’m going to just come out and say it. I think something’s going to happen to either you or Jerry. Or both. I can’t tell you what—you know what trouble I’ve been having with the crystal ball. But I told Rosa, and she did a tea leaf reading—or rather, I did—and I didn’t pick up much, but the feeling is still there.” There was a small silence, and then she added in a small voice, “I know it’s not much, and it’s as vague as all hell, but that’s all I’ve got. So all I can say is, be careful. Please.”
Tammy felt her heart lurch. Georgie wouldn’t be here telling her this if she wasn’t seriously worried.
“You didn’t see anything?”
“Nothing specific. I saw leaves, trees, like a forest or a wilderness area. And a few shadowy people.” Georgie closed her eyes for a moment, and Tammy could see that she was trying to recall
it. “I didn’t see the people, I sensed them. I haven’t read tea leaves before, so I didn’t really know what I was doing.”
Tammy just sat there for a moment, caught by surprise. “I don’t know what to say. More important, I don’t know what to do.”
“Me neither,” said Georgie with a hollow laugh. “Just ‘be careful’. That’s all I can say. And tell Jerry. I’m not sure what his reaction will be; he’s always treated Rosa’s crystal ball as a bit of a joke—window dressing for the gypsy caravan. I don’t know if he really believes that it works.”
Tammy thought back to the way their little group had used the crystal ball’s predictions back in Santa Monica, and before that in Dayton. “I told him about the cases you’ve solved… like the last one with Nick, and how we put things together from your crystal ball readings.” She added reluctantly, “Even so, I don’t know how seriously he takes it. I think he thought I was exaggerating.”
Well, she thought, Jerry could darn well take it seriously now, she would see to that. It was more than time he gave his sister the credit she deserved.
She stood up, leaned over and patted Georgie on the shoulder. “I’ll go find Jerry; he’s due back in Dumpsville about now with that new bug-out vehicle… what did they call it? The Barbarian?” She rolled her eyes. “Barbarian. Men…! Let’s meet up in an hour, right? Are you staying at your Dad’s house?”
“Yes. But can we make it an hour later? I heard from Scott this afternoon. He’s heading back from Cherokee Park. If we wait, and I grab Layla, we can all meet up for a council of war.”
“Perfect,” Tammy said. “The Crystal Ball Investigation team back together again…only with Jerry there too.” She sent Georgie a rueful look. “I’m not sure how the team will feel about that.”
“Whatever it is that’s coming, Jerry’s in it up to his neck,” Georgie assured her, looking marginally happier to be taking some action.
“Done. I’ll find someone to pack all of this away for the night, and go find Jerry.”
Georgie nodded. “I’ll locate Dad, give him an update on Rosa, and catch you later.”
Tammy watched her make her way toward the main building, an unlikely-looking gypsy fortune teller in blue jeans and an asymmetric navy t-shirt. It was a reminder that although she might wear flowing gypsy skirts and shawls a lot of the time, just as Tammy herself usually dressed in vintage clothes, real life wasn’t a dress up party.
There were real threats to happiness out there.
Chapter 6
Several hours later, when she answered the chimes to the front door of her father’s house, one look at Tammy’s face told Georgie that her warning had come too late. Her heart sank.
“He’s missing, Georgie.” Tammy was trying to sound calm, but Georgie could hear the strain in her voice. “Nobody has seen him since yesterday. Except me, but I was still half asleep when he left this morning.”
“Wait, save it for the others so you don’t have to tell it twice.” Georgie gave her a quick hug, then led the way to the media room with its soft lounges. “Dad and Angela are out, thank goodness, so we can talk this through without him going off the deep end.”
Layla and Scott were waiting, and their expressions changed when they saw Tammy. Layla immediately bounced to her feet and took her arm. “Come sit by me. No Jerry?”
“No.” Tammy took a seat, and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. She was still wearing her pink swing skirt with the musical notes on it in black, and the neat little shirt that went with it. With her high bouncy ponytail, she looked like a high school kid sitting and waiting for the Principal. She swallowed a couple of times.
Scott passed Tammy the wine that he had poured when Georgie answered the door, and gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze.
“Thanks, Scott.” She sat there holding it, staring into the glass, and then seemed to gather herself. Her chin came up, and she took a deep breath. “Let me tell you what I’ve been able to find out. First, nobody at the BugOut Base has seen Jerry since yesterday afternoon at around 3 o’clock. He was out last night at some local government dinner, and I was in bed when he got home. This morning he left at around five—said he had a long round trip to make, but he’d be back late afternoon, dinner time at the latest.” She paused and toyed with the stem of her glass. “I didn’t ask where he was going; he’s always heading off somewhere.”
“And you hadn’t heard anything from him when I saw you this afternoon?”
“No, there was no reason. I was busy setting up the new trailer, and he always calls when he can.” Her voice hitched a little on the ‘when he can’. “So after I saw you, I went straight out to the BugOut Base to talk to the guys. They were all still there, doing overtime to fill the orders. Jerry had checked out Barbie, but left no details of where he was going.” She sighed. “Anybody else would risk being fired if they did that, but because Jerry’s the boss… well, anyway, he didn’t tell them.”
Georgie looked at her blankly. “Barbie?”
“The newest bug-out vehicle. Equipped with everything for the day everything goes ballistic. That thing I was talking about earlier. They called it the BoV Barbarian, Barbie for short.”
“What about satellite tracking?” asked Scott.
“I thought of that right away. I got Danny to check. The last coordinates were in Kentucky.”
“Kentucky?” Layla said. “What’s he doing there?”
“He goes all over to visit preppers.” Tammy nibbled on a fingernail, her forehead creased. “If it’s a long way, he’ll fly, but if he’s demonstrating a bug-out vehicle, he’ll drive it there. The guys all assumed that’s what he did today.”
Georgie had picked up a lot about the preppers scene from Jerry, and had consulted with him on fabrics and design for the interior of the early bug-out vehicles. She’d got to know the layout and fittings well. “He’s got an on-board satellite phone. Can you reach him on that?”
“It’s out of action, just like his phone. And nobody knows who he was meeting today.” Tammy picked up her own phone from the table and tapped a few buttons before pointing at the screen. “I got Danny to email a list of all the people Jerry’s been talking with in the past few weeks, and their contact details—but there’s no guarantee that the person he was meeting is there. It could be somebody from months back.”
“What about the CB radio?”
“The vehicle has a combo MURS/FR. We could probably raise someone down that way to try to contact him on it, but—” Tammy stopped for a fraction of a second, then pushed on, “but Jerry has to be able to get to it to use it.”
“I hate to state the obvious,” Layla said, “but do we want to call in the police?”
“Last resort,” Tammy said. “His prepper business will collapse if the police are allowed access to private information. The customers are all paranoid.” She immediately corrected herself. “No, actually they’re not, I’ve met a lot of nice people who just want to give themselves a chance of survival if things go bad. But there are a lot who are paranoid.”
Georgie’s phone beeped, and they all froze.
She picked it up from the side table, glanced at the screen, and shook her head. “Not him. Hang on.” She swiped at it and put it on speaker. “Hi, Rosa.”
Her great-grandmother said without preamble, “Young Jerry’s already in trouble, isn’t he?”
They all knew it, but hearing Rosa’s ancient voice saying it baldly over the phone made it so much more real. Tammy’s eyes immediately grew bright, and she bit her bottom lip.
“Yes, we think he might be,” Georgie said, deliberately keeping her voice steady. Tammy didn’t need anyone breaking down. “He’s gone missing. We’re all at Dad’s—me, Tammy, Scott and Layla—trying to work out what to do next.” Georgie asked the question in everybody’s mind. “How did you know?”
“I just know. The boy’s my blood.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Only that it’s some distance from h
ere. It’s no good looking around Elkhart, you won’t find him.”
“We think he’s in Kentucky—or that’s as far as the vehicle got, anyway. Can you wait a second?” Georgie looked at Tammy. “What time was the last reading on the satellite tracker?”
“Danny’s on it…wait.” Tammy scrolled through her messages again. “Around 11 am. He says whoever they are, they know what they’re doing. An alert is supposed to come through if a tracker is tampered with, and we should also be able to immobilize the vehicle from the base.” She looked up. “Didn’t happen.”
“It’s probably not where it was the last time the tracker registered it, then. They’ll have moved on.”
Georgie held up a hand and returned to Rosa. “Did you catch that?”
“Yes.” Rosa’s crack of laughter held no humor whatsoever. “Young pup swears by his new-fangled devices. Wonder what he says now.” Then her voice softened marginally. “Don’t you fret, Tammy girl. We don’t need satellite trackers.”
Maybe gypsies whose crystal balls work don’t need trackers, Georgie thought. “Do you want one of us to pick you up, Rosa? Bring you here? You could stay here with us tonight.”
“Not tonight. You put your heads together and come up with a plan, and I’ll contact you when I know anything.” Her voice grew louder. “Tammy?”
Tammy, lost in thought, jerked upright. “Yes, I’m here.”
“You’ll be going after him with the others,” Rosa said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Jerry has certain equipment over there at that BugOut place. Be prepared to use it; I know you know how.”
Stunned, Georgie gazed at the phone. This was Rosa? She was obviously a lot savvier with what was going on around the RV Empire than any of them gave her credit for. She glanced across at Tammy, who had a strange look on her face. Her eyes met Georgie’s, and narrowed, and then she gave a short, sharp nod.
Georgie would have to follow up on that later. Was Rosa talking about guns? There couldn’t be any over at the BugOut Base, surely; they didn’t have a license to sell guns. She put that thought aside. “Rosa, you’ve seen something about us going after him? Tell us.”
Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery Page 3
