Good Riddance: Book 3 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery Page 6

  Georgie wasn’t surprised that Rosa knew who was calling, despite the lack of caller ID on her old-fashioned phone. Rosa always knew. “Yes, thanks. We’re in a park in Santa Monica.” Georgie pressed the speaker button so the others could hear. “How’s your arthritis, Great Gran?”

  “Just fine,” Rosa said crisply, “but I’m sure you didn’t call me to talk about that. What’s up with your phone? You sound like you’re talking underwater.”

  “I’ve got you on speaker so the others can hear, but I can take it off if it’s annoying.”

  “No, keep going. Your Leo is there, isn’t he? And two others.”

  Layla’s eyes widened, but Tammy just grinned. She had met Rosa enough times to know what she could do. “Hi, Mrs. Goode. It’s Tammy here.”

  “I told you before, make it Rosa or Great Gran, like everybody else.” There was a familiar bark of laughter at the other end. “You’ve got that young pup Jerry running around not knowing which way to jump. I knew you’d be good for him.”

  “Good,” Tammy said, her eyes narrowing. “He’s got some fences to mend. Has he moved vintage vans behind the shed yet?”

  “Lots of talk, not much action. Want my advice? Keep him off balance for a while yet. I’m enjoying this.”

  Tammy brightened. “Don’t worry, I will.”

  “You’re calling about young Nick,” Rosa went on. “I see all of you involved in this. Be careful.”

  “We’re all involved in it because I’m not getting anything from the crystal ball,” Georgie broke in, seizing her chance. “You were there on the first day Nick came, but after that… nothing. Nothing from you, and nothing from the crystal ball. Am I doing something wrong?”

  “Nope,” Rosa said cheerfully. “When it’s time for you to know, it’ll tell you.”

  Georgie frowned at the phone, frustrated. “Then why did you tell me about his dog the first time? Why is this important enough for you to turn up at all?”

  “Who said it has to be important for me to show up?” Rosa countered. “I like to pop in now and then just to see what’s going on. I’m an old woman, there’s not much in my life now.”

  Georgie could picture her sitting there, her lips stretched in the familiar wide gummy grin, her black eyes sparking with humor. An image appeared in her mind, momentarily as clear as a reflection in a still pool, before it flickered out. Rosa wasn’t sitting, she was standing, staring out of the window at the neighbor’s big tabby, washing itself in the sun. Over the fence Georgie had caught a hint of movement: the man next door pushing a mower around.

  She crossed her fingers and gave in to impulse, hoping she was right. “I don’t know,” she said. “You can always watch the cat next door. Or Bobby Carston mowing. Always something going on in your neighborhood.”

  There was a brief silence, and then Rosa said sincerely, “Good girl, Georgie. I always knew. Always.”

  The sense of relief Georgie felt was out of proportion to the glimpse of Rosa’s life. She could do it. She could.

  The others were looking from Georgie to the cell phone, as though they were trying to see what she could see at the other end of the conversation. She smiled at them weakly, and tried again.

  “Please, Rosa. Just tell me, am I missing something? This fortune-telling stuff, it fades in and out like bad TV. Meanwhile Nick needs help. Him and his mother.”

  Rosa heaved a huge sigh that rattled through the speaker. “Have some faith in yourself, girl. Life’s not all about what comes to you through the crystal ball—or tea leaves, or scrying bowls, or the cards that your young Leo likes to consult.”

  They all looked at Scott, and he just shrugged and opened his hands in a ‘she got me’ gesture.

  “You’ve got brains, and you’ve got friends. And young Nick needs to be part of this, not just have you find out from a crystal ball. If he helps to fix this, his mother will listen to him next time.”

  “So we’re on the right track?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you to have faith in yourself? And your friends? That’s enough talk, now. I’ve got a cat to watch.”

  With that, Rosa was gone.

  Georgie looked around at the others. “Was that a vote of confidence in Crystal Ball Investigations that I just heard?”

  “Definitely,” Tammy said. “Looks like I’d better go and dig out a trailer trash outfit.” She pushed herself up fro the table and grinned. “So, Jerry doesn’t know which end is up, hey? Another win.”

  She sauntered off.

  Layla cocked her head on one side and stared at Scott. “I get the reference to ‘young Leo’, but what’s this about consulting the cards? You been holding out on us?”

  “Not at all,” Scott said. “But I just do it for entertainment.” He winked at Georgie. “Don’t want to steal your thunder.”

  A thought occurred to Georgie. “You haven’t picked up anything about Nick’s case, have you?”

  “Of course not. Otherwise I would have told you all at the team briefing. Nope, it’s as much of a mystery to me as it is to you.”

  All right, thought Georgie, mulling over both Scott’s words and the conversation with Rosa. Perhaps this is what’s written in the cards. They were meant to solve this as a team…including the newest member: a sometimes-sulky but well-meaning teenager.

  Life was never dull.

  CHAPTER 11

  Tammy couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. Part of it was watching Nick try to keep his eyes off her various assets, displayed to advantage in a push-up bra, midriff top and low-slung steel-gray capris made of some evil fabric that didn’t breathe and felt slimy to the touch. She’d unearthed those from the lost-and-found box too. Funny how all the clothes in the box were those that nobody would ever want returned.

  She activated the phone mirror app and checked her makeup. Too much eye shadow, too much lipstick, too much thick foundation, and artfully applied dark roots to her messed-up blonde hair. She particularly liked that touch, although it had pained her to do something so nasty to her Marilyn Monroe waves.

  “Perfect,” she said to Nick, slipping the phone into her shiny turquoise vinyl handbag and beaming at him. “Ready to go?”

  They were in Scott’s truck, because it was much less recognizable that Georgie’s. Scott and Georgie had both swiveled around from the front seat for a last-minute briefing.

  Georgie looked at Nick’s video pen, in his pocket. “Are you sure she won’t know you’re recording this?”

  “I don’t think so. Even if she does, I’ve got my voice-activated digital recorder here too.” He patted his pants pocket.

  “Wow,” Tammy said in admiration. “The well-equipped spy.”

  Nick blushed. “It’s not really for spying. I use it in class.” He looked back at his house, just down the road, looking nervous.

  Tammy squeezed his arm. “C’mon Nick, it’ll be fine. This was your idea, remember?”

  “I know. She’s going to be so mad, though.” Another long moment went by, and then he huffed out a quick breath and opened the door. “Let’s get it over with.”

  Tammy opened her own door and slid out. She bent down at Georgie’s window and winked. “Show time. I always wanted to do this.”

  Georgie widened her eyes at her innocently. “Be trailer trash?”

  “Be an undercover detective.” Tammy shifted some gum around in her mouth, straightened up and hitched her bag over her shoulder. “See you later.”

  She hurried after Nick, her gold flip-flops slapping the road as they crossed to his house. “Are you sure she’s in?” she said to his back.

  “She usually is.” Looking apprehensive, Nick tried the door, which opened right away. “She’s here.”

  “Try not to look as though you’re going to an execution,” Tammy whispered in his ear. “You’re smitten with me, remember?”

  Nick gave a sick smile, and led the way along the small hallway into the kitchen, calling: “Mom?”

  “Here, s
weetie,” came Katherine’s cheerful voice from the adjacent open-plan living room. “How was training?”

  “Good. Er, mom…”

  He stopped, and Tammy peered around him. Katherine was comfortably ensconced on the sofa, reading. She glanced up, and then did a double take, swinging her legs onto the floor. “Oh. Um, hi. Nick, who’s this?”

  Her voice was still polite, but the expression in her eyes changed as Nick moved aside to let Tammy past.

  “Hiya, Mrs…uh…” Tammy stopped and cheerfully punched Nick on the arm. “Nicky, you never told me your last name!”

  “Ahern,” he mumbled.

  “Mrs. Ahern.” Tammy grinned at her cheerfully. “Nice place you got here. Bit more room than in my trailer.”

  “Nick,” said Katherine, closing a book called Messages from Beyond and setting it carefully down on the coffee table, “I thought you were supposed to be at football training?”

  “I was,” Nick said quickly. “You know Coach Mason said miss once more and I was out, so I went. Tammy and I had coffee after.”

  “Ah.” Katherine’s gaze grew colder. “And where did you meet Tammy? At school?”

  Tammy let out a screech of laughter. “School? I haven’t been to school for years. I do haircuts at the RV park. Not trained or nuthin’, I just have the knack.” She reached up to ruffle Nick’s hair. “Nicky’s probably just about due for a cut. I could do wonders with it.” She eyed Katherine’s nondescript greying hair. “I can do yours too, if you like. Put some color in it, give it a lift.”

  Katherine’s eyes flicked to Tammy’s dark roots and her lips twisted in an involuntary grimace. “No thank you.”

  Tammy moved closer to Nick and poked him meaningfully in the back. His performance so far wasn’t winning any Oscars.

  “Sit down, Tammy,” he said, galvanized. “Would you like a soda?”

  “Soda.” She grimaced. “Have you got a beer?”

  “Nicky isn’t old enough to drink,” Katherine snapped. “Although you seem to be.”

  “Yep,” said Tammy cheerfully, plunking herself down next to Katherine. “I passed the big 2-1 a couple years ago now. Mind you, I never let being underage stop me.” She winked at Nick. “Bet you don’t either, Nicky. You wouldn’t be a footballer if you didn’t sneak one on the quiet now and then. And we all know about footballers’ parties.”

  “Do we?” Katherine’s voice was pure ice. “Have you been holding out on me, Nick?”

  “No,” he said quickly, and then changed his tune when he saw Tammy widening her eyes at him meaningfully. “Well, only a little bit.”

  “A little bit?”

  “C’mon, Mom. Dad used to tell me about the parties you went to,” Nick said defensively.

  “He did not.”

  “Well, not in detail, but he said you used to have some wild parties. Well, now it’s my turn.” He stuck out his bottom lip mutinously, hitched himself on the arm of the settee next to Tammy, and slung his arm around her neck.

  Better, thought Tammy. Now he was getting into character. She reached up and linked her fingers with his, tugging his hand down dangerously close to the push-up bra, and sent him a fond look. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Ahern. Nicky’s all right. You should see some of the guys I’ve been out with in the past. Made my dad’s hair curl. He’s glad I’ve found a nice boy at last.”

  “Nick is still at school,” Katherine said in a choked voice. “He’s got football and college to think about. And really, with all due respect, I think he’s a bit young for you.”

  “There’s only five years between us,” Tammy said, sounding aggrieved. “You think he’s too good for me, is that it? Just because I live in a trailer park? Our trailer is neat, you know.” Then she amended it. “Well, my mum’s trailer is neat. Mine, not so much, now I’ve got my own. But it’s not dirty, just messy. Not that Nicky cares about the mess.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Nick contributed. “Why don’t you come out to the RV park and meet Tammy’s family, Mom? They’re nice people. Her mom looks just like Tammy; you’d think they were sisters.”

  Tammy chomped hard on the wad of gum in her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh. Poor Katherine.

  She wriggled a bit on the settee, and tugged at her stretch capris in a vain attempt to get the wrinkles out where they were riding up on her thigh. Eueww, the fabric felt horrible to touch; she’d never encountered anything like it. Feeling Katherine draw away from her, she leaned closer and said in a confidential tone, “These pants are like, so comfortable that I might as well be wearing nothing, but they don’t hold their shape. You have that problem with any of your pants, Katherine?”

  “Never,” said Katherine, averting her eyes from the red lace of Tammy’s thong visible just above the hipline of her pants. “Nick, we should give our guest some refreshments. Give me a hand in the kitchen?”

  “Jeez, Mrs. Ahern, I’m not a guest,” Tammy said with a laugh. “I’ll help.”

  “No, no. You just sit here and…read this.” Katherine grabbed the book from the coffee table and shoved it at her. “We’ll be right back.”

  Tammy watched them go, Nick trailing after his mother’s rigid back. She glanced down at the book, and flipped through it while listening intently to the hushed, angry tones coming from the kitchen. She caught a few words here and there: pretty much what she expected: too young, and that woman, and something about school and football.

  Then Nick, low and furious: “…see who I want to see… Dad would have…” and more that she couldn’t quite catch.

  The book seemed to be a collection of stories about communications from dead loved ones. For a moment, Tammy felt a pang of sympathy for Katherine. It sounded as though Nick’s dad had been important to both of them. No wonder Katherine was desperate to hold on to whatever she could.

  She fanned the pages back to the table of contents, and there it was, on the blank facing page, in spiky black script: “To Katherine. Be Guided by the Wisdom from Those who Have Crossed Over. Bianca.”

  Bianca. Tammy stared at the name, and then closed the book and turned to the back cover.

  There was a picture of a middle-aged woman, softly backlit, her face half in shadow. Very mysterious.

  Underneath it was a brief bio about the author: Bianca Bellamy.

  Swiftly, she skimmed through it. Years of helping others, blah blah blah, select few clients, blah blah…she hunted for a website address or any kind of address, looking at the front matter or the afterword, but there was nothing.

  Bianca Bellamy. She dug into her bag for her phone, photographed the bio and the handwritten message and then hastily flipped back to one of the stories when she heard returning footsteps.

  Katherine’s face was tight and closed. Nick’s was mutinous.

  “Come on, Tammy, we’re leaving,” he said. “You were right: my mother doesn’t think you’re good enough for her son.”

  “But…” Tammy put the book down, and let her eyes fill with crocodile tears. “Nicky, that’s not fair.”

  “I know. Come on. We’re out of here.”

  He jerked his head towards the door, and strode off, leaving Tammy to follow him.

  She walked past his mother, and hissed, “Selfish cow. Bet his Dad would have liked me!” and left, feeling excruciatingly guilty.

  When all this was over, she would apologize to poor Katherine.

  CHAPTER 12

  Georgie and Scott watched Nick storm out of the house, with Tammy flip-flopping along behind him, heading off around the nearest corner.

  “Guess that’s our cue,” Georgie said. She looked at her watch. “They weren’t even in there for ten minutes.”

  “Looks like Momma Bear didn’t take to Tams.” Scott started the engine, drove around the corner, and stopped to pick up the two waiting for them.

  Tammy hopped in and groaned. “I feel so guilty. Poor Katherine. I would have hated me too.”

  “This had better work,” Nick said grumpily as he got in from t
he other side. “She won’t be speaking to me for, like, about ten years.”

  “It was your idea,” Tammy reminded him yet again. “Did you ask about the medium?”

  “Of course I didn’t ask to go and see her.” Nick sounded impatient. “That would have seemed a bit suspicious, don’t you think? I just said Dad would have liked Tammy, and Dad wouldn’t have treated her like something on the sole of his shoe, and I wished that Dad was still here. If that isn’t enough to send her back to Madame Whatsername I don’t know what is.” He put his forearm over his eyes. “I feel like crap.”

  “Me too, if that’s any comfort,” said Tammy. “And Madame Whatshername is called Bianca Bellamy.”

  Nick put his arm down and stared at her.

  Georgie turned around as far as she could in the front seat. “You’re kidding.”

  Tammy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an ace detective.”

  “What, did she have a phone list on the wall with her listed under ‘My Favorite Medium’?

  “No phone list,” Nick said. “She wouldn’t leave a name out anywhere I could see it.”

  “Oh ye of little faith,” Tammy said, then relented. “She was in such a hurry to get Nick out of the room to scream at him about me that she shoved a book at me to keep me occupied. Voices from Beyond, something like that.”

  “Messages from Beyond,” Nick corrected her. “She must have read it fifty times.”

  With the air of a conjurer, Tammy pulled her phone out of her bag and navigated to photos. “Ta da!” She turned it around so they could see.

  Georgie took the phone from her, and as her eyes met those of the woman on the photographed book jacket, a shiver went through her. It was as though she was staring straight through the photo, right into the depths of the woman’s soul. Pitiless, she thought. Avaricious. Cold crept through her.

  Scott’s hand closed over her shoulder, and when she looked at him she could see he knew. “It’s her.”

  “It’s her.” Avoiding the eyes of the woman in the photo, she swiped to enlarge the text and skimmed the bio, then looked at Tammy again. “I know it’s her, but how did you know? Katherine could have had a dozen books by various mediums and psychics.”