A Good Result Read online

  It would be nice to think that she was sitting in her little sunroom at Elkhart, looking out at the snow and thinking of Georgie, reaching out across the ocean.

  It was entirely possible. Rosa and Scott’s mother talked regularly on the phone.

  Georgie smoothed her palm across the surface of the crystal ball. “I don’t want to dictate what you should do, or think, or say,” she told them. “You probably have questions in your mind related to all of this. It might be as simple as ‘who did it?’ or it might be ‘is so-and-so involved?’”

  “Like Stan Lambert,” said Lissa. “Or Amber.”

  “Anyone, really. You’ll probably find different ideas or questions floating into your mind while we sit here.”

  “It sounds a bit like meditation,” Lissa said. “Are we allowed to talk while this is happening? Or should we just wait and see what you have to tell us?”

  “Let’s just play it by ear,” Georgie suggested. “You might or might not see anything in the crystal ball yourselves, by the way. Everyone is different.”

  She was conscious of their eyes flicking from the crystal ball to her face, and then she shut them all out, because the crystal surface was starting to grow warm under her fingers.

  Good, she thought, with a tiny flicker of relief. When she felt that change in temperature, there was usually something coming through.

  Would it be images? Words? Feelings? She never knew.

  She waited, and this time, she saw first the familiar mist forming in the crystal ball, and then some dark shapes.

  Lots of small, scuttling dark shapes. She frowned and stared. Were they…cockroaches?

  They were.

  Georgie looked up with a wry grin, and found Lissa leaning forward, staring intently, her mouth dropping open. She waited until the other girl’s head jerked up and she met Georgie’s eyes. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”

  “Cockroaches?”

  “Jeez,” Lissa said. “As though it’s not enough to have to cope with the little buggers at work, now they’re invading your crystal ball.”

  “Well, not literally, thank goodness.”

  Viv looked frustrated. “I can’t see anything. Why can’t I see them?”

  “Close your eyes,” Georgie suggested, still staring at the moving shapes. “You might be someone who senses things rather than sees them. Be open for feelings, maybe words coming into your mind.” She held up a hand. “Wait, is that…?” She looked closer, and then back up at Lissa. “What do you see?”

  Lissa frowned. “A hand?”

  A hand, Georgie thought, with cockroaches trickling in a short stream from the hand to the floor. She looked at Scott. “Scott…?”

  Scott met her eyes and nodded. Clearly, he had interpreted what he saw exactly as she had. “Yes. A hand.”

  Lissa looked at them both and made the connection. “A hand. Someone did bring them in, didn’t they? Crap.” Fury sparked in her eyes. “That rotting piece of fish, I was certain that someone must have planted that, unless a darned cat or something brought it in, but how would a cat get in? But the cockroaches…I know what I said to the landlord about them, but that was because I was so mad at him. I really thought we were just unlucky, that there was a plague of them or something. Indestructible, nuclear-explosion-proof roaches. But this—!” She ran out of words, her eyes moving from Scott to Georgie to her sister. “Who would do that? Who?”

  Viv had opened her eyes again, frowning at not being able to see what they could, but not doubting it for a moment. “You saw that for sure? Someone brought in cockroaches?”

  “That’s the interpretation I’m putting on this,” Georgie said slowly. “It feels right.” She nodded at Viv. “What do you feel?”

  “What Lissa said. We’ve been paranoid with pest control. But with cockroaches, you’re never on top. That’s why it didn’t occur to us that it could be…” she looked at her sister. “Not Irene. She’s a cow, but she wouldn’t deliberately seed the place with cockroaches and then report them, would she?”

  “I doubt it. What would she have to gain?”

  “It depends,” Scott said, “whether she’s friends with someone else who wants you out. Would she do that for anybody else?”

  For a moment Lissa and Viv were silent, but almost at the same time they shook their heads.

  “Don’t think so,” said Viv. Then her eyes grew speculative. “But…what about Amber?”

  “Huh.” Lissa sat up. “She hates you, and if you want my opinion, she’s still concerned that Shane might decide that he’s made a huge mistake and wants you back. Yes, I could imagine her doing it.”

  “Even if he did decide he’d made a mistake,” Viv said shortly, “It’s too late. That’s done and dusted.” She sat, thinking. “Amber…hmmm. Maybe. Maybe.”

  Scott tapped his fingers on the table. “Today, Amber came by just before Irene Wilson arrived.” His eyes went to Viv. “For it to work, Amber would have to time it right. Cockroaches are like lightning. They scuttle away, hide. She’d almost have to be there at the same time as Irene. Would that have been likely?”

  “Irene does tend to come early, when we open. Then she and Janet go on to a craft morning or a council meeting or any of six other pies she has a finger in.”

  “Okay, then.” Scott raised his eyebrows. “Looks like we have suspect number one, then. Amber. What about Stan Lambert?”

  “He seems keen for us to go to this other complex,” Lissa pointed out. “But he never comes into the cafe, so he couldn’t have introduced the cockroaches.”

  “But he does have a key,” Viv said.

  “In that case, let’s add him to the short list. Two suspects, Stan Lambert and Amber whatever her name is.”

  “Amber Kaye,” Viv said.

  “Amber Kaye. Anyone else? Who else comes in early?”

  “Lots of people pick up an early morning cup of coffee on their way somewhere,” Lissa admitted. “They’re in and out.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Georgie, are you picking up anything else?”

  “Yes,” Georgie said reluctantly. “I’m not seeing anything else, but I am getting a feeling about things—a fairly definite feeling. Sorry, guys. But I don’t think you’re looking for one person. I think there are several people behind all this.”

  7

  Shadows in the Night

  The Mowbray sisters’ No. 1 Enemy (as he liked to think of himself) allowed them a few nights to grow complacent before he made his next move. Months before, he’d searched online for ‘ways to sabotage a café’, and now it was time for the next item on his list. It was amazing what inventive ideas discontented workers could come up with.

  At three or four in the morning, most of the world was asleep. He slipped past the bakery, where a crack of light was showing under the blinds on a back window. Shane Carter’s white van was parked out front, with Amber Kaye’s little silver hatchback next to it.

  He’d heard the stories about Shane and Amber. That little bit of gossip had been an unexpected bonus; an extra incentive for the older Mowbray sister to want to sell up and get out of town.

  When you thought about it, who could blame Shane? A stacked blonde firecracker like Amber versus that skinny older sister with her serious face? No contest.

  He moved quietly down the street and went around the back of Coffee, Cakes & Crepes. After a quick look around to check that he wasn’t being observed, he let himself in.

  This must be getting on for half a dozen visits over the past four months, and they were still none the wiser. It couldn’t go on for much longer, he understood that. Either they’d wise up or they’d close.

  But for now, he was still AOK. So, time to execute tonight’s plan.

  He’d contemplated engineering another health scare, but it was a bit too close to the cockroach incident. It was only a few days since they’d reopened, and they’d be paranoid, checking every corner of the place each day. That could wait a week or two.

  He cou
ldn’t stop a smile at the thought of the cockroaches. That had worked perfectly: Irene had talked about her experience long and loud to anyone who’d listen—the butcher, the gift shop, the Post Office staff, Maureen across the road, and finally the council.

  So, no pests tonight.

  No broken pipes.

  No monkeying about with the wiring.

  Tonight was simple, but it would give them a few more headaches.

  One thing after another, like a drip on a stone.

  Drip, drip, drip.

  He got to work, and within ten minutes was letting himself out again with the things he’d purloined, slipping away through the silent streets.

  8

  Losing It

  Georgie decided to spend a few hours in the cafe each morning for the three weeks they were visiting. For one thing, Viv and Lissa could do with the help. Money was tight, and they hadn’t yet employed another backpacker to take Lissa’s place when she was away running weekly barista classes in Maclean and Grafton.

  Secondly, she wanted to get a sense of who came into the cafe, both locals and visitors. Maybe the saboteur would be among them, and if he or she did, she might pick up something.

  On the third day after the cafe had reopened, after a few hours’ intensive training from the Coffee Whisperer, aka Lissa, she tied on an apron and took her place behind the coffee machine.

  “You’re this morning’s guinea pig,” she told Scott when he came in from setting up the tables outside. “Long black? Flat white? Cappuccino? Latte? Name your poison.”

  “Long black’s no challenge,” came Viv’s voice from the kitchen. “You need practice in stretching the milk.”

  “No worries,” Scott said, lounging back comfortably in a corner booth. “I’ve already decided. I’ll have a caramel macchiato, thanks. Large.”

  Georgie put her hands on her hips. “You will not. You hate sweet coffee.”

  “Yeah, but I need to challenge you. This barista business isn’t for the faint-hearted, you know.” He smiled at her lazily.

  “Give him a large cappuccino,” Viv said. “And I’ll have a latte.”

  “Right. Here we go.” Georgie looked for the handle with the metal cup, but it wasn’t there.

  It wasn’t in the cupboards, either. Or anywhere on the workspace.

  She went to the kitchen, where Viv was unpacking today’s cupcakes. “Viv? I can’t find the thing you put the coffee grounds into. Is it out here?”

  “What thing?” Viv looked up in puzzlement. “A container?”

  “No, the handle thing that locks into the machine.”

  “Oh, the portafilter. It’s in the cupboard.”

  Georgie shook her head. “No, it isn’t. Did Lissa wash it up last night? When she was getting stuff ready for her class today?”

  “She might have, but she always puts it back.” Viv went back into the shop with her, but within minutes they were looking at each other in a panic. “You’re right. It’s not there.”

  Scott stood up. “What’s missing?”

  “Only the most essential part of the machine.” Viv was already tapping the fast-dial button to Lissa on her phone. “She probably won’t answer; she doesn’t while she’s driving.”

  “She needs Bluetooth in the car,” Scott said.

  “I know, it’s one of those things we keep meaning to do…no, she’s not answering. I’ll send a text.”

  There was a light rap of knuckles at the door, and Trev came in, ignoring the ‘closed’ sign as usual. “G’day all. How’re things?” He beamed at Georgie, already aware that she was the newest barista. “OK, Georgie, do your thing. I’ll give you a score out of ten like Lissa, only I’ll be more generous.”

  “You’ll be generous all right,” Georgie said, her heart rate accelerating. Scott’s sisters so didn’t need this, on top of everything else. “There’s a bit missing on the machine, and we can’t contact Lissa.”

  “What kind of bit?” Always ready to offer mechanical expertise, Trev moved to the back of the machine. “Something broken?”

  “No, it’s a proper part of it. The bit you put the coffee in. The handle thing.”

  “Ah, I know.” Trev nodded. “Can’t help you there. It’ll turn up. I’ll just take a carton of chocolate milk, then. I’m not desperate enough to go over and get Maureen’s coffee.”

  “OK.” Georgie shot a glance at the clock on the wall. “Irene and Janet will be here in about fifteen minutes. We can’t not be operating.”

  “We so can’t.” Viv turned to Scott. “Scotty, back at our place, there’s our good machine on the kitchen counter, and two others in the laundry, on the shelf. Can you hot-foot it over there and pick them up?”

  “I’m gone.” As good as his word, Scott flew out of the door.

  Trev scanned the faces in front of him as Georgie handed him his carton of flavored milk. “You going to be all right?”

  “Sure,” Viv said, her voice lacking conviction. “We’ll get through. Here, take a muffin with you.”

  “I’ll get fat,” he protested, but took one anyway, his hazel eyes smiling at her. When she couldn’t muster up a smile in return, he squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “You girls can’t take a trick, can you? Hang in there, Vivi. Lissa’s probably got the missing bit with her; she’ll phone up full of apologies.”

  “Thanks Trev.” She gave him a grateful smile, watching him go, and said to Georgie, “Salt of the earth. Wish there were more like him.”

  Two minutes later, right on schedule, Amber breezed in, juggling a tray. “Hello, hello! A dozen vanilla slices, Shane’s special fruit loaf, some carrot cake and a torte, as ordered.” She flashed her wide fake smile and sashayed past them, straight to the kitchen.

  Georgie and Viv exchanged a look and followed her. Until she could be ruled out, they had decided to watch every move Amber made. So far, there had been no sign of a further sneaky deposit of cockroaches, but who knew what else she might have in mind?

  Amber stood and watched while Viv stacked the bakery items on separate smaller trays, her eyes moving inquisitively around the kitchen. “All back on track now? No sign of creepy crawlies?”

  Not apart from you, Georgie felt like saying, but seeing Viv’s teeth clench, she stepped in. “Clean as a whistle. Just as it always is.”

  Amber’s eyes fixed on hers, and this time there was a hint of spite in her gaze. “Well, not quite always. But I have to give it to you, you could eat off the floor in here this morning.”

  “You could,” Viv agreed. “And I must say, in all fairness, I’ve seen the bakery when it’s less than pristine, Amber.”

  “Not since I’ve been there,” Amber said. “But you haven’t been there for a while, so you wouldn’t know.” She leaned back and rested her elbows on the preparation area behind her, a move which displayed her generous cleavage to advantage in her low-cut t-shirt. The white cotton was thin enough to show a hint of lace underneath.

  Amber saw Viv notice, and gave a little cat-like smile.

  “That’s true,” Viv said evenly. “I haven’t been to the bakery because I’ve been flat out running a business. And since I like to keep things hygienic, would you mind taking your elbows off my food prep area?”

  Amber’s smile disappeared. She stepped away from the counter, watching Viv swab the counter with alcohol wipes. “Now you’re being petty.”

  “Now I’m being careful,” Viv said, stripping off her thin plastic gloves and replacing them with a fresh set from the box on the counter. She dropped the used gloves in a pedal bin and met Amber’s gaze challengingly as she handed her the empty tray. “Here. Thanks.”

  Amber took the tray, but didn’t move. “Where’s Lissa today?”

  “Running a class in Grafton.”

  “Have you hired another backpacker?”

  “She doesn’t need to,” Georgie said. “She has family here.”

  Amber nodded, looking her up and down. “You’ve had experience in this sort of thing?” />
  “I’ve been trained by the best,” Georgie said. “Worked all over the States.” All of which was true, even though none of it had been as a barista. “And now I’d better get to work.”

  Amber followed her out of the door. “That sounds impressive. Tell you what, I’ll take two coffees to go. I’ll have a latte. Shane has—”

  “Sorry,” Georgie said. “We’re not actually open yet. You could come back later, or I’ll bring it to you. As a special favor, seeing we’re all supporting local businesses.”

  Amber frowned. “I see Trev come in here every morning before you’re open and walk out with a coffee.”

  “Trev’s a friend,” Viv said coolly, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “We’ll bring them down within half an hour, Amber. If you still want them?”

  Looking annoyed, Amber hesitated, but then nodded. “Sure. I want to see what kind of a job your newest staff member does. If her coffee is as good as she says, I’ll make sure word gets around.”

  “I didn’t say it was good,” Georgie pointed out. “Just that I’d been trained by the best. But I have confidence.”

  “Fine.” Amber turned and let herself out, a hint of petulance in her walk. “Later, then.”

  They watched her go, and Georgie saw Viv’s hands clench into fists. “She makes me homicidal.”

  “Be grateful for small mercies,” Georgie said, seeing Scott pull into a space outside. “She just missed seeing Scott bring in the replacement machines. That would have been gossip fodder. Now I’ve got to make two of the best cups of coffee I’ve ever made. On domestic machines.”

  Viv let out a strangled laugh. “You can do it. You weren’t lying. You really have been trained by the best.”

  “True,” Georgie said, opening the door for Scott. “I just wish it had been for more than a couple of hours. But at least Amber didn’t drop a colony of cockroaches onto the floor. We’ve got to be in front.”

  No cockroaches, she thought. But an essential part of the coffee machine missing?