Read In Good Hands: Book 5 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery Online

Authors: Marg McAlister

Tags: #gypsy fortune telling, #psychic detective, #vintage trailers

In Good Hands: Book 5 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery (8 page)

A cloud drifted across the sun, and Scott sat up, patting the dog. “That’s it, Princess. Finished our little afternoon bonding session. Time for you to return to prison.”

“Some prison,” Georgie said. “The dog sleeps more comfortably than I do. Jerry says the motorhome has a built-in kennel, except that it’s too grand to be called a kennel – and it’s certainly grander than a cell.”

“What would you call it, being made to travel with Jaxx Saxby everywhere she went?”

“Point taken.”

She walked over with him while he took Trixxi back to the motorhome. A knock on the door got no response, so he just put her inside and closed the door after her.

“See?” Georgie said. “Nobody home.”

“She could be having a nap. Ella says she does that, and throws a tantrum if she’s disturbed.” He took her hand. “What are you doing now? Want to come to my place for Happy Hour? Stay for dinner? Seafood pasta on the menu tonight.”

“Sure. It’ll be a while until Jerry and Tammy are back.” She followed him up the steps of his camper. “I wish we knew how that step got moved. Tammy wasn’t seriously hurt, but I’ve seen people break a leg after a misstep out of a trailer. It
could
have been really nasty.”

She slid into the dinette while Scott prepared a snack and wine, and told him, “I did another reading.”

“Thought there was something you weren’t saying.”

“There’s nothing
to
say. I saw the same house, I saw the same reflection of Jaxx and the car in a pond – or water of some kind. Clearly, what I’m seeing is important, but I don’t know why.”

“Nothing else?” Scott sat opposite her and clinked glasses before taking a swallow of wine. “Here’s a different wine for you to try. It’s from the Yarra Valley. A nice semillon.”

“Where’s the Yarra Valley?” She tried it. “Mmm, yum. You can be my personal shopper.”

“It’s in Australia. A state called Victoria, down south.” He smiled lazily. “When we go to Australia, I’ll take you there too. Margaret River in Western Australia and the Yarra Valley in Victoria. That leaves only five more states. Well, technically, three more states and two Territories.”

Georgie felt the same small thrill of excitement that she had on other occasions he had mentioned going to Australia. She couldn’t see how it was ever going to happen, but she liked the idea.

Georgie Bridget Mowbray, she thought, half embarrassed to be trying on Scott’s surname for size. It had a completely different ring to Georgie B. Goode.

Too early to think about that… “Maybe one day,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Anyway, in this reading I got the same stuff as before, but there was something else. Another reflection of Jaxx, but this time in a mirror. Only Jaxx kind of glared at the reflection and the reflection gave this nasty smile back, so I was thinking, maybe she’s a twin. Maybe she and the twin have been lifelong enemies, and she’s stalking her.”

Scott didn’t laugh, but his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. “Could be. I’m sure we could find out if she had a twin.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to finish. I checked the official bio. She was born Jacqueline Moira Saxby, and had three older sisters. They’re all teachers, and they’ve all got brown hair and blue or gray eyes. None of them looks like Jaxx. They all take after their mother, and Jaxx is like her father - only a big bright Technicolor version of him.”

“So, no twin.”

“No twin,” Georgie agreed dejectedly. “Unless her mother has a secret and they were separated at birth.”

Scott swirled the liquid around in his glass, looking as though there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how to say it.

Georgie waited.

Finally, he spoke. “There is something you should know. I did see something when I had the cards out earlier. I wanted to see what my mother thought of it before I said anything to you. She…well, she saw the same thing. Not the exact same layout, but the same message coming through.”

“And…?” Georgie’s feeling of wellbeing slowly faded. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like what she was about to hear.

“Georgie, I think this is about more than Jaxx. I think you need to watch your back too.”

Chapter 11

The next day, Georgie’s heart sang the moment she drove into the RV park set up for the day’s filming, and saw the cheerful colors of the vintage trailers, with its pretty outdoor setting to match. Owning a vintage trailer, she often thought, was a bit like having a doll’s house to play with. You could pick different colors and themes and ring the changes with new covers for director’s chairs and chinaware… and of course, dress
yourself
to suit the theme.

Today, she had left behind her gypsy caravan and her gypsy clothes, and dressed in fifties style clothes like most of the others. She didn’t get much of a chance to wear her small collection of retro fashions, because everyone expected her to fit the gypsy theme. Today she had pulled out her favorite: a new acquisition that she just couldn’t resist. She glanced down at her skirt: black with large white polka dots, and a cheeky red petticoat that added a splash of color to the hemline. She’d teamed it with a white fitted shirt with a cute poodle stitched on it that reminded her of Trixxi. It was all finished off with a red kerchief around her neck, a wide black belt and practical white saddle shoes with bobby sox. And, of course, the black cats-eye sunglasses.

She felt like a girl going to the prom.

Today would make a
great
segment on the show. Sure, she knew that after cutting it was likely to be no more than a few minutes long in the final show, but it would be full of energy and life and laughter. They’d probably sell a heap more vintage trailers and gypsy caravans once this aired.

Tucked away behind a couple of trees, where it wouldn’t spoil the effect of the vintage scene, she could see the film crew’s truck. Seth and Dominic were unloading their camera gear, and Jaxx, her bright auburn hair up in a saucy ponytail, was surrounded by a knot of admirers.

Better than yesterday, thought Georgie, peering through the crowd to see what Jaxx was wearing. It looked like a swing skirt in turquoise and black. She must have taken advice from Ella.

She parked well back from the vintage trailers and cars. While her truck’s maroon canopy didn’t look out of place next to her gypsy caravan, it didn’t really fit in here.

Layla had obviously spotted her driving in. She waved from the doorway of her trailer, and made beckoning motions. She looked fabulous, in a pair of white high-waist shorts with three giant navy buttons on each hip pocket, and a navy and white striped sailor top. Her hair, caught back with a white Alice band, curled around her shoulders.

“Georgie! Is that really you? No gypsy shawl, no crystal ball? You look
amazing!”

“Thanks.” Georgie flushed with pleasure. “So do you, as always.”

Not far away, Seth was toting his camera and tripod to a position near Jaxx, but Georgie noted with amusement that his eyes were on Layla.

“Seth’s watching,” she murmured. “Got him hooked, have you?”

“After last night, he should be,” Layla said, winking. “But wait until you see this. Come in, quick, before Jaxx sees you.”

Since the crowd around Jaxx was growing by the minute, Georgie doubted that the star of the show would be interested in anything else but signing autographs and posing for selfies, but she obediently ducked into the trailer. Layla swung the door shut behind her.

“Hiya!” Tammy waved from where she was perched on the bed at the end of the trailer, a devilish grin on her face.

Georgie stared at her, and broke into helpless laughter. “Omigod. She’s going to kill you.”

“That’s the plan,” Tammy said complacently. “Well, maybe not actual
death
, but I hope she’ll be seriously annoyed.”

“Serve her right.” Layla slid into the bench behind the dining table and picked up the teapot, warmed by a 50s tea-cozy, to pour a cup for Georgie. “If she had shown the slightest bit of concern yesterday, we might have pity, but no. Poor Tams was lying there
bleeding
—with a sprained
ankle
—and did she care? No, all she could talk about was how we’d get sued because of our unsafe steps.”

Georgie put her head on one side and stared at Jaxx’s double. Well, not quite her double: Tammy looked gorgeous instead of tarty. Luxurious red hair fell in gleaming waves around her shoulders, and her eyes, normally a clear blue, were a cat-like green. Her impressively curvy figure was shown to perfection in a pale yellow dress with fitted sleeves, a wide belt and a deep scooped neckline.

“Well?” Tammy was obviously enjoying the effect. “What do you think?”

“Did you really dye your hair red?”

“It washes out in a couple of shampoos.”

“I’ve seen that dress before. Somewhere…but where?” Georgie gave up. “No, I give up. Tell me.”

“Think Ann-Margret.”

Georgie snapped her fingers. “Bye Bye Birdie! Opening credits!”

“Got it.” Tammy mimicked a Jaxx hair-flick that had Layla snorting into her tea. “She can’t claim that I’m copying her, can she, when I’m obviously Ann-Margret?”

“Yeah, like Ann-Margret’s eyes were ever that shade of green.”

“No, but Jaxx’s are. How much do you want to bet hers are contacts too?”

“No bet.” Georgie laughed and shook her head. “Love your work, Tams.”

Tammy swung her feet, casting a regretful look at her bandaged ankle and her feet, encased in yellow ballet slippers. “Jerry wouldn’t let me wear heels.”

“Nor should he,” Georgie said with some asperity. “I hope you’re not even thinking of dancing.”

“Just a shimmy or two,” Tammy said evasively. “Anyway, Jerry will be there to catch me.” She paused, her grin spreading even wider, waiting for Georgie to catch on.

Georgie looked from her to Layla, both with identical mischievous expressions.

Then she got it. “You’ve talked him into being Conrad Birdie, haven’t you?”

“Yup. Gold suit and all.
And
the guitar. But we had to spray-paint an old one.”

“How did you get hold of a gold suit?”

“Costume place in town. Don’t forget, I had plenty of time to plan. I asked the vintage crowd a month ago to come here for an impromptu rally. They jumped at the chance to be on Jaxx Saxby’s show.” She laughed. “I thought at the time that it would be fun to dress up as Ann-Margret because she reminded me a bit of Jaxx, but it was only after meeting the famous Ms. Saxby I realized she’d probably be furious. Especially since Jerry will be my Conrad Birdie.”

Georgie sat down and accepted the polka-dot cup and saucer from Layla. “She’ll hate you forever, you realize that, don’t you?”

“And your point is?” She and Layla grinned at each other.

Georgie gave up. “You two. You’re like the terrible twins. Always coming up with something.” Then she suddenly heard her own words, and set her cup down in the saucer with a rattle.

Twins.

Right now, Tammy could pass for Jaxx’s twin –and Jaxx’s future had a threatening black cloud over it.

What if Tammy was mistaken for Jaxx?

Layla half rose out of her seat. “Georgie? What is it?”

She looked at Tammy, someone who had become closer than a sister. If anything happened to Tammy…

Yesterday’s crystal ball reading swam into her mind: Jaxx, looking at her reflection in the mirror, and the reflection glaring back.

Things were coming to a head, and Tammy, thanks to her ability to play any character she wanted, was right in the firing line.

~~~

The film crew stayed at the RV park all day, in and out of trailers, filming dancers and singers, and grabbing whatever clips and sound bites they could—which meant that Georgie was on tenterhooks the whole time. Luckily, Tammy had already planned to stay out of sight and rest her ankle until it was time for her piece.

“Don’t worry, Georgie,” she said quietly after Layla had disappeared to talk to Seth. “Just taking a header out of that trailer yesterday was enough. There’s someone nasty around Jaxx, and I’m not taking any stupid risks. Jerry can’t get here until just before we go on, but I’m staying put.”

“I’m going to call Scott anyway,” Georgie said. “It only needs us all to be distracted at the same time by the camera crew needing something, or Jaxx wanting a sound bite, and someone could get to you.”

Once Scott arrived, she felt calmer. “Stick with Tammy,” she told him, before rushing off to liaise with the retro crowd and tell them more about the TV series. “Both before and after her piece—although Jerry can stay with her afterwards.” Then she re-thought that. “On the other hand, dressed as Conrad Birdie, he’s going to be swamped. No, stay with her.”

“Good as done,” he said, and made his way to Layla’s trailer.

Finally, at around two in the afternoon, came the moment they’d all been anticipating.

The band announced the end of a set, and then played a quick riff to get everyone’s attention.

“You all know our favorite Rockabilly Princess, right?” the lead singer boomed.

Everyone cheered, knowing what to expect. “Tam-my! Tam-my!”

“Are you ready to give her a big welcome?”

“Yes! YES! Bring her on!” More cheers.

The cheers became appreciate laughter and wolf-whistles—from both males and females—as Jerry, dressed in gold as Conrad Birdie, emerged from the tent behind the band. He carried Tammy effortlessly, and set her down on the stage before jumping up himself and taking the mic.

“As you can see, folks,” he said, grinning, “Tammy has managed to do herself some damage—she really did try to break a leg!”

The crowd laughed and applauded, with cries of ‘Way to go, Tammy!” and “Go, Tammy!”

“But,” said Jerry, “She’s not going to miss a chance to sing for you all. And I’m guessing that some of you will recognize the outfit!”

“Ann-Marget!”

“Bye Bye Birdie!”

“Go, Conrad!”

Jerry laughed and played to the crowd, waving Tammy forward to take a bow. “Are you all ready?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Then let’s go!”

The band launched into “Bye Bye Birdie”, with the crowd joining in enthusiastically and the girls flipping their swing skirts in sync with Tammy. Disobeying Jerry’s strict instructions to stand still, she did a sterling job of prancing about the stage, casting star-struck looks at Jerry while he mimed playing the guitar.

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