Georgie Be Good (2 page)

B
y late afternoon
the market crowds had dwindled, and all around Georgie people were efficiently packing the contents of their booths into cars and trailers. She was more than ready to head back to the RV park herself. 

Layla, sitting outside her vintage trailer on the site next door, caught her eye and winked before she turned her attention back to the middle-aged couple sitting in front of her.  They were studying pamphlets from the Johnny B. Goode RV Empire, and conferring earnestly. 

It looked like another sale was in the offing, but Layla appeared to have it well in hand. Georgie sat on the steps of her trailer and watched her in action. Layla’s natural enthusiasm was contagious, and her own retro trailer was so delightful that people instantly wanted one of their own. The door stood open, giving buyers a glimpse into the cheerful interior, decorated in subtle sorbet shades: pale apricot, a soft peppermint green, baby pink and sunny light yellow. Every item inside, from the floral drapes to the pale green Hotpoint jug, brought the retro dream to life. 

Ten minutes later, the couple wandered off, but kept turning back to look at Layla’s trailer before they finally disappeared.

“Let me guess,” Georgie said, walking over. “Another sale. And they want one like yours.” 

Layla shrugged, pretending modesty. “What can I say? My trailer’s the best.” She sat back and folded her arms, grinning at Georgie. “And I’ve got something new inside. Have a guess.” 

“More tea cups. Or a new teapot.” 

“Nope.” 

“Frilly apron? Retro poster? Vintage radio?” 

“No and no and no. Guess you’ll have to go in and see for yourself.” Layla gestured towards the open door, and sat back with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. 

Intrigued, Georgie stepped into the trailer. 

The ‘something new’ inside Layla’s trailer wasn’t anything ceramic or paper or fabric. It lived and breathed—and winked at her. 

“Surprise,” Scott said, grinning at her comfortably. “Layla insisted I hide out. She’s a kid at heart.” 

Georgie felt a warm glow spread through her.
Your Leo
, Great-Grandma Rosa had called him. She didn’t know about that, but there was some sort of connection. She had met Scott a scarce two months ago, but he had been there when she needed him. Without his help, one very nasty piece of work called Brian Marshall might have continued to con lonely women. 

“I don’t even know your second name,” she said, sliding into the seat opposite. “Yet here you are, following me to L.A.”

“Yet here I am,” he agreed. “My time was up at the RV park in Dayton, so I thought I might as well see if I could track you down before hunting up the next job. It wasn’t difficult.” He held out a hand. “Shall we start again? Scott Mowbray.” 

Remembering the odd jolt of connection last time she had shaken his had, Georgie took it gingerly. Yep, there it was again; a kind of buzz and… recognition. 

Weird. 

She folded her arms protectively. “Don’t tell me, your mother did your horoscope and figured out where I’d be.”

“No, easier than that. I phoned the RV Empire and asked where you were.” His eyes glimmered with good humor. “I may have given the impression that I wanted to buy a vintage trailer.” 

“So they told you exactly where to find me. Lucky for me you’re not a stalker.” 

He tipped his head on one side; his eyes shrewd. “Had a rough day?” 

“Do I look that bad?” 

“Layla told me about Jerry’s latest plan, but you look as though it’s more than that.”

“Just a dissatisfied client. She didn’t want to hear what was actually going to happen, just what
she
wanted to happen.” 

“Uh huh.” He had a wry look on his face. “I’ve grown up listening to that complaint.”

“Your mother again?”

“Well, you are kind of in the same business.”

Not quite, Georgie thought. She had a foot in two camps. Sure, she travelled in a gypsy trailer with Great-Grandma Rosa’s crystal ball and told fortunes, but she couldn’t escape the hold that retro and vintage trailers had on her, either. Her big problem was reconciling the two. Did sales and precognition mix? 

Not, apparently, when it came to seeing what her brother would do next. 

“Humph,” she said, frowning absently at Scott. 

“What made you come to L.A.?” he asked. “It’s a long way from Elkhart.”

“Well…” she hesitated. She hadn’t known Scott all that long, and even though he’d grown up with a mother who planned her days by the stars, would he think she sounded a bit flaky? “It was just where I
felt
I had to come. Not that I can say that to everyone.”  

 Scott nodded. “And do you know why you’re here, yet?” 

“Not a clue.” Which was frustrating her no end. This was the second weekend that Georgie had set up at markets around L.A., and so far she’d done well with RV sales prospects but had encountered no one who really appeared to need her help. “The people who come to me for a reading mostly seem satisfied, but half the time I feel like a complete fraud. That crystal ball doesn’t always cooperate. I wish it came with an instruction book.”

“It’ll work out,” Scott said. “Just relax.” 

At that exact moment, Layla’s face appeared in the doorway. She had an odd look on her face. “Georgie?” 

“What’s wrong?” Georgie stood up immediately. 

“There’s someone here who wants to see you.” She mouthed “Sorry”, and gave a slight shrug, then stood back to let Georgie out. 

Standing in front of the sales table, pushing around the sales brochures with one finger, was a woman of about forty, clad in jeans and a black t-shirt with
Moms Rule, OK?
written on the front in large white letters. Her blonde hair was caught back in a short ponytail, and she was biting her bottom lip. 

She looked up, and as soon as Georgie met her tired, sad gaze, she knew that the person she sought had found her first. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I know the markets are over for the weekend, but I didn’t know you were here until an hour ago. Please—I really need to see you.” 

Georgie glanced back, to find Scott watching her intently. He raised an eyebrow and smiled, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. 

Weird, she thought again. His mother was the astrologer, but Scott seemed to have a habit of turning up whenever something was going on. 

She glanced back at the woman, and for a second nobody moved or spoke. Her client was as tense as a coiled spring. 

“My mother came to see you yesterday,” the woman said. “Afterward, she phoned me…” she hesitated, searching for words. “She said you knew lots of things that she couldn’t explain and that I should come see you. I almost didn’t.” Then she added, her voice trailing off, “I’m Sarah West.” 

Georgie smiled at her. “That’s fine,” she said, instinctively keeping her voice gentle. “Come with me.”

They both walked to the trailer, and Georgie could feel Sarah’s panic and anxiety reaching out to envelop her.

What had she got herself into this time?

T
o counterbalance
the other woman’s tension, Georgie made her voice sound calm and matter-of-fact.

“Would you like tea or coffee? Or water?”

“Just water, thanks.”

“Sit here.” Georgie patted the velvet-upholstered seat at the table, and opened the cupboard to take out her lead crystal glasses. She filled them with chilled water from her small fridge, and set one in front of Sarah. Then she sat down, linking her fingers together loosely in front of her on the table, and waited while Sarah took a few sips and took quick, nervous glances around at her surroundings.  

Finally, she put the glass down and met Georgie’s eyes. “Thank you. It was good of you to see me.” 

“No trouble at all.” Georgie gave a small smile. “Do you want to tell me why you’re here, or do you want to see if I can find out from the crystal ball?” 

“My mother’s already said you’re the real deal. I don’t have to test you.” 

An image came into Georgie’s mind, and then flickered out again. A small, wiry woman with lively brown eyes and straight, greying hair. The first of her afternoon clients yesterday. And yes, she had picked up quite a bit on that session. Including a lot of family stress.

She nodded. “Your mother was Jeanette?”

“Yes.” Sarah didn’t seem surprised that she had picked the right person. “She phoned again today. She was absolutely insistent that I make the time to see you.”

Georgie reached over to slip the black velvet covering off the crystal ball that rested between them. She drew it closer, and then laid her palms over the smooth surface. 

The vibrations rose, and she felt the hum. She still wasn’t totally sure whether that feeling of warmth and the slight vibration came from her or the ball itself, but she was always relieved to feel it.

The first thing she tapped in to was the same level of family anxiety and tension that she had picked up on when Sarah’s mother had been sitting opposite the day before. 

The second thing was deception. The air was thick with it.

When she raised her eyes, Sarah was staring at her. The other woman’s fingers closed tightly around the water glass, enough to make the skin go white. “Tell me,” she said abruptly. 

With this one, she had to be totally honest, Georgie thought. 

“Sadness,” she said. “The same stress and unhappiness that I felt with your mother. A lot of that was coming from you, I imagine. But around you, it’s concentrated. And… the truth is well hidden.” She let her gaze return to the crystal ball and saw the familiar mist form inside it. Georgie focused on the swirling patterns until the rest of the room dissolved. “Deception. It involves you, and your husband… and others, too.” She frowned, trying to concentrate while still keeping her senses open. More than once in the past, she had fallen into the trap of trying too hard, which served to block rather than enhance the messages trying to come through. “There’s a whole web of deceit here. And a lot going on in the background.” 

Sarah gave a trembling sigh, and said in a small voice: “Yes, there is. And it’s killing us.”

Georgie barely heard her, letting herself drift. “Your husband is at home with you most of the time. Something has happened at his place of employment.” She glanced up briefly. “This is all having an impact on you and your friends. And your…daughter? Yes, it’s a daughter.” She opened herself to more information, but nothing was forthcoming. “Sorry, I’m not getting your daughter’s name.” 

“Grace. Her name is Grace.” 

“Grace has a friend—a
good
friend—who is also affected by all this.” Georgie nodded to herself. “You and this friend’s mother… I see a friendship going back a long time. But the relationship is under strain.” After a moment, she added, “It’s all linked. I see a chain of people reaching back to events that happened months ago.” 

She sat silently for several moments, waiting, but couldn’t penetrate the shadowy relationships and cause and effect. 

Taking her hands from the crystal ball, she sat back and regarded Sarah. “That’s as much as I’m getting now—about this particular matter, anyway. What usually happens is that as we talk, more comes to the surface.” She spread her hands questioningly. “So…do you want to tell me about it?”

Taking a deep breath, Sarah began. “My husband, James, has been asked to take leave while he’s being investigated. They say he sold secrets to a rival company. He didn’t, of course.” For a moment passion made her eyes flash indignantly before they welled with tears. “James would never do something like that. I can’t believe that they don’t know that. They should know him. They should.” She took a moment to get back control, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket to swipe at her eyes. “We’ve had them all to our house, for dinner, parties. My friend Rachel is James’s personal assistant; her daughter is Grace’s best friend. And now there have been all these accusations on social media, and some in the newspaper. It’s awful.” 

“And do they all think that James is guilty?” 

“Rachel doesn’t. She says she doesn’t. But she’s not behaving the same way she used to be. She’s not relaxed around us any more.” Sarah stared bleakly at the tabletop. “The forensic investigator found a trail on James’s computer, showing downloads of records, details of planned new products, tests… all the information competitors would need. All at times when he’d logged on with his password.” 

“I’m sure the investigators have already asked, but—did anyone else have access to his computer?” 

“He was supposed to log out whenever he left the room. It’s standard procedure. But of course he didn’t always do it.” She laughed bitterly. “I’d be willing to bet that none of them do it all the time, but he’s the one that got caught. It
would
be James. He’s so nice he’d never suspect anyone of wrongdoing.” 

Georgie hesitated. “So…he would have left his office unlocked at times?”

“Undoubtedly. Well, of course he did—somebody got in, didn’t they?” Instantly, Sarah looked contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—we’ve gone round and round, and we can’t think who. We can’t think.”

Georgie thought for a moment while Sarah regained her composure. “I imagine I’m asking the obvious questions, but it’s because that’s the way information flows with me.” She tapped the crystal ball. “The more we talk, the more I can sense. So my next question—you said your friend Rachel is his personal assistant. Did she have the opportunity to access the computer more than anyone else?”

“Theoretically, yes, but she’s just a shared PA. The company’s quite small, and half the time she’s in another office or doing work for one of the others. That’s why this hit them so hard. This new product was going to be their pot of gold. They were all set for rapid expansion.” She gave a mirthless smile. “James had already put in a bid for Rachel full time as soon as they could afford another PA. Now, she’s thinking of leaving—the stress there is incredible, and she’s been grilled by the directors, and the forensic investigator. She’s had to name anyone she’s seen coming into James’s office, and people are taking it the wrong way, as though she’s pointing the finger at anyone but James. It’s been hard for her.”

“Does anyone there have a grudge against him?”

Sarah hesitated. “There are two directors above James. He plays golf with one, Damian; they’re good friends. They’re both clever, too: they bounce off each other with ideas. They each had a lot of input into the idea that was stolen. James thinks that the other director, Cory, resents that a bit. He can be a bit cool.”

“Anyone else?”

“There are only nine involved in the company, plus contractors. There’s Diana, a woman in her fifties who does the books. She has a virtual office, but she does come in sometimes. There’s Marty in IT… does their website, some of the tech stuff, promotion.”

Georgie closed her eyes for a moment, and reached out to the crystal ball with half-formed questions in her mind.
Damian? Cory? Rachel? Marty?
Was any one of them the key to this? Marty, she reflected… if he handled their information technology, then he might have the skills to crack a password. 

He might also know a hacker. 

Getting out of your depth, Georgie, she thought. 

Something teased at the back of her mind. Nothing as convenient as a name, but the crystal ball had stubbornly refused to even share Grace’s name, so that was not a surprise. 

Deception. There was a web there, all right, and the person weaving that web was
somewhere
in that office—but she could feel another person behind it all, too: someone hidden in the swirling mists.

She couldn’t force it. 

“What do you see?” came Sarah’s voice. 

She opened her eyes and watched the flickering candle light play on Sarah’s face. The deep shadows under her eyes were accentuated, as were the lines of weariness and despair. 

Georgie chose her words carefully. “I can’t tell you who, yet, but someone at the office is behind all this. You would have guessed that, anyway.” She held up a hand to forestall the questions she could see on Sarah’s lips. “I know this probably sounds like standard psychic claptrap, but I can’t just pluck it out of the air. With time, I could possibly come up with answers for you—or I might
never
dig down to the truth. I’m not a detective, and I’m not a miracle worker. You can choose to give it more time and keep working with me, or call it quits.” 

“We’ve got money.” 

“I’m not asking for money.” 

Sarah bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to insult you by implying that’s what you’re after. I’m just saying, I can pay for your time.” 

Georgie glanced back at the crystal ball, which was now nothing more than a pretty sphere of glass. She picked up the cover and floated it down over the top. 

“Did you see the sign outside, Sarah? The one that said ‘for entertainment purposes only’?”

Sarah nodded, her eyes asking:
Where are you going with this?

“People pay me to be…entertained. It’s up to them whether they take it seriously or not. With friends, I don’t take money. We just talk. Sometimes I seem to be able to predict things.” She smiled. “I think you and I can be friends, Sarah. So we’ll just talk, from time to time, and see what comes up.”

Sarah seemed nonplussed. “Why are you doing this for me?” 

“That’s easy,” Georgie said. “You’re the reason I’m here. I can’t say no.”