Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery (7 page)

Read Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery Online

Authors: Marg McAlister

Tags: #cozy mystery, #crystal ball, #psychic detective

BOOK: Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery
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“Oh!” The woman’s voice warmed, although it held a note of caution. “Yes, of course. Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong with the vehicle,” Tammy hastened to assure her, “or the sale. But we have run into a bit of a problem.” Her eyes met Georgie’s. “You met Jerry, I’m assuming, when you were there?”

“Yes, he was lovely. Very helpful.”

“He drove one of our new units down here to Kentucky yesterday morning, and unfortunately, he’s now missing. We believe you and Jack know a bit about radios and surveillance, so we were wondering if we could ask for your help?”

“He’s
missing
? Like, he’s just disappeared?” In the background, there was a muttered question in a male voice, and they could hear Sarah giving a quick explanation. She came back on. “You think he came down to see a prepper family here?”

“We don’t know whether it’s a family or an individual, but the last GPS reading for the truck was in northern Kentucky.”

“Northern Kentucky.” She sounded puzzled. “But that’s miles away. What brought you down here?”

“A possible sighting,” Tammy lied. “The thing is, Sarah, we’re quite close to you now. Do you think we might pop in and talk?”

“You’re
here?

“Maybe ten miles from you. But look, if it’s too early, that’s okay. We can make it later.”

“No, no, of course come now! If Jerry’s missing… do you know how to find us?”

“Yes, we have all your contact details from the sale.”

“I’ll make coffee,” Sarah said. “See you soon.”

Tammy terminated the call. “Time to roll,” she said. “Let’s hope we’re not jumping straight into trouble.”

Chapter 11

They bumped along the track that led to the Smiths’ small holding, drove through a gate, and pulled up alongside a solid-looking 4WD that bore a Johnny B. Goode RV Empire sticker on its rear bumper. A dog that looked like part Staffy and part who-knew-what barked half-heartedly from near the door, and wandered over to watch them.

They all piled out into misting rain, watching the dog warily, but he just wagged his tail and submitted to Scott scratching his head. “Not a fierce guard dog then, little guy?” Scott commented, before straightening up to survey the house.

Georgie cast a glance at him, but she couldn’t see any evidence that he was carrying a gun. Ditto with Tammy, clad in a hunting vest and cargo pants; she had pockets everywhere. With her blonde hair caught up under a cap and no makeup on, she looked ready for a day’s hiking. Or hunting. ‘Sandy’ from Grease had completely disappeared.

At that moment the door opened to reveal the real-life version of the woman that fitted the image Georgie had picked up earlier. Dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt with a loose sweater pulled over the top, she had tanned skin, fine laughter lines around her eyes, and dark brown hair pulled back in a practical ponytail.

“Don’t stand around in the rain, come in!” she called, standing back with the door wide open. “I’ve got coffee…have you been driving all night?”

“Pretty much,” Scott said. They gratefully moved in out of the rain, which started to get heavier as Sarah closed the door.

“You’ll be hungry too. Breakfast? Do you have time for eggs and bacon, or do you need to get on with the search?”

Georgie could have kissed her. Coffee, eggs and bacon sounded like a gift from the gods. “Sarah, that’s so kind of you. All of that would be fantastic. We’ll be sure to replace your supplies.”

“Don’t be silly, anything we can do to help.”

“Thank you. I’m Georgie. This is Scott, Layla and Tammy.”

They followed her into a good-sized family living area, with a six sturdy chairs around a wooden table. A pixie-like girl of about ten and a solid boy a few years younger sat there with empty cereal plates in front of them, staring at the newcomers with curious eyes.

“These are our kids, Carley and Mason… kids, can you move over to the sofa with your tablets now? Headphones on, please…if you can get the work I’ve set done early, you can choose your own activity later.” Efficiently, she shepherded them to an adjoining area and started them on an online learning activity.

“Home schooling?” Georgie asked when she returned.

“Yes. We made the choice years ago, and it’s worked out well. It helped that I was an elementary school teacher before Carley was born.” There was a flash of movement to one side, and she glanced over. “Here’s Jack, with the radios. Jack, let me introduce you to our guests.” She ran through the introductions.

Jack, a tall man in his thirties with steady hazel eyes and a thick crop of greying brown hair, stood in the doorway between the kitchen and a corridor, his arms laden with electronic equipment. He nodded a welcome but didn’t smile, his eyes moving from one face to another. “Welcome to our home. I’m sorry to hear about your problems; I hope we can help.”

Sarah exchanged the flicker of a glance with him, and Georgie was instantly on the alert. There was a lot going unsaid here. The pair could be posing as harmless citizens that liked an alternate lifestyle and home schooling on the surface, she thought, while hatching who knew what plans on a completely different level.

“Take a seat, everyone,” Sarah said. “Not the chair at the end, Jack always sits there. I’ll get breakfast started while you fill him in. Everyone happy with poached eggs, bacon and sausage?”

“Thank you.” Georgie gestured towards the kitchen counter, where eggs rested in a bowl and a stack of bacon waited on a chopping board. “Can I help? Pour coffee, make tea, anything?”

Sarah waved off the offer of help. “All under control. I’ll do this and listen while you talk.”

Jack, after watching Scott, Layla and Tammy taking their places at the table, finally moved away from the door, set the radio equipment on the table and immediately addressed Scott.

“I prefer not to have guns in the house,” he said, with a glance over to where his children were gazing at their tablets and tapping away. “I’ve seen too many…accidents. May I look after yours while you’re here, sir?”

They all froze, but after a beat Scott simply nodded and stood up to pull the handgun out from under his jacket. “My apologies. We’re not inclined to trust people right now. We didn’t mean to abuse your hospitality.” He handed it over, butt first.

Nobody looked at Tammy, and she didn’t volunteer the fact that she also was carrying. If this guy proved to be a devil in disguise, at least they had one card up their sleeves. Or a gun in one of Tammy’s capacious pockets, as the case may be.

“Jack was a sheriff, once,” Sarah said while she added bacon to a large pan. “He can usually pick it when someone’s carrying.”

A warning, perhaps?
Don’t mess with Jack, he has contacts in law enforcement?

Tammy’s phone chirped, and she slipped it out of a vest pocket to check her messages. She read the contents, scrolling down, and from the way she tightened her lips, it was clear that it wasn’t going to be of any help to them.

“Nothing?” Georgie asked.

“Nothing. Danny says that the thumb drive he found was the last option, and even that was mostly a repeat of what was on the main computer, with a few extra names that he has sent through. Nothing new. I’ll just let him know where we are.” She tapped out a quick message, and then put the phone on the table in front of her.

Jack opened a cupboard above the kitchen counter, placed Scott’s gun inside, and closed the door. “You’ll have it back when you leave.” He nodded at Tammy’s phone as he sat down. “You’re getting names, locations of survivalists in the area?”

“Yes, here and throughout Kentucky, just in case. The problem is, the kind of people who might have taken Jerry are the types that refuse to have their names on any database. They use fake names, throwaway phones, pay cash or route payment through a maze.” Tammy sighed. “The very measures we use that protect the confidentiality of clients are putting Jerry in danger.”

He held out a hand. “May I see the list? I know most of the local survivalists.”

Tammy passed him her phone, and he scrolled through the names, every so often nodding slightly. After a few moments he handed it back. “There are no extremists there that I can see. We’ve had some of these people in our home; met others at survivalist meets or chatted online. There are a couple of names there that are very dedicated to what they do, but none that I can see who would do harm to another.” He smiled dryly. “Well, not unless society collapsed. Then all bets are off. They say you don’t know what any man is capable of until he’s under pressure.”

“That’s what we’re wrestling with all the time—questions about what we would do to protect ourselves; how far would we go,” Sarah said over the sound of bacon sizzling in one pan, while she cracked eggs into another and put bread into a four-slice toaster. “We like to think that we wouldn’t take anything that belonged to someone else, if that meant that they were in danger. But… you know, there are so many shades of grey.”

“As was the case when I was a sheriff,” Jack said. “Which is one of the reasons I left.”

Georgie studied his face, and then he looked up and met her gaze.

Click.
The switch was almost tangible.

He wasn’t the one. A wave of relief swept through her. Not only could they relax, they had someone who could help.

She glanced at Scott to find him glancing from her to Jack, and in a moment of perfect clarity she knew he sensed exactly what she did.

“Tammy,” she said, “It’s not Jack. Let him have your gun.”

Jack gave a twisted smile and said, “She can keep it. Right-hand pants pocket, right? Wanted to see what you’d do.” He reached under the table and the next moment there was a gun in his hand, much more serious than hers. “I put this here when we knew you were coming. Can’t be too careful.”

He returned the weapon to its hiding place and sat back in his chair with his arms folded. “Shall we start again?”

Chapter 12

Jack listened to their story attentively while Sarah served up breakfast and drifted over now and then to settle a question for one of her offspring. Georgie began to see that her original view of survivalists hadn’t been quite on target. There were the extremists who stockpiled every weapon known to mankind and acted as though they’d be disappointed if Doomsday didn’t arrive, and there were people like Jack and Sarah, who lived a simple, happy life and simply wanted to give their family the best chance of survival if society went feral.

Luckily, they had been drawn to this family first.

Maybe not
all
luck, she allowed. Through Scott’s mother and the crystal ball, they’d followed a cluster of possibilities to end up here.

At first, the four of them skirted around the reason they had decided to look for Jerry in Marion County, but Jack simply looked at them with his cop face on and asked more questions until Georgie sighed and gave in.

“It will probably sound crazy to you,” she said, “but I use a crystal ball. Scott’s mother is an astrologer who does card readings. Think what you will, but that’s why we’re here talking with you now.”

“I see.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ve learned to be open-minded. There’s more than one survivalist that claims to have seen a vision of the future, and they’re not
all
the kind that wear tin foil on their heads to stop the government from reading their minds.”

Sarah, who had been sitting there quietly taking it all in, spoke up. “You have to help them, Jack—but if you get killed I’ll never speak to you again.” She touched his hand briefly.

Judging by the smile that touched Jack’s lips, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words. “I’m not about to get killed, Sarah. But you’re right, he needs to be stopped.”

He?
Along with the others, Georgie stared at Jack.

“I know of a few preppers I’d give a wide berth, but only one of them lives close by. He goes by the name of Vincent Cray, but I’ve called in a few favors over the past few months to find out more about him. He has a criminal background, several aliases, and he sees the survivalist movement more as a ticket to riches than anything else.”

“Creepy man,” Sarah said with a shudder.

“You’ve both met him?” Scott asked.

“He came here to introduce himself and offer any help if we needed it, but that wasn’t his true agenda. He was after Jack’s network of radio operators, and to pick his brain about surveillance options.”

“I suspect that he’s building a database of preppers, and not just to sell them things. There’s big money in it.” Jack moved restlessly in his chair. “My concern is that you’re out of your depth here. He’s a dangerous man, and paranoid doesn’t begin to describe him.”

Tammy sat forward. “But you know where he lives?”

“I’ve been there. He invited me out to see his compound to see his surveillance setup—mostly to get me to think he has nothing to hide, to build trust. It would have worked with most people, but I spotted a couple of cameras he didn’t tell me about.”

“Can we get onto his property to scout it out, see if Jerry’s there?” She glanced at Georgie. “If we got close, you’d know if he was there, wouldn’t you?”

Georgie shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. You’d think so, but until we get there…”

“He has surveillance cameras in the compound,” Jack said. “That’s common with preppers with money, but he has more reasons than most to cover up what he’s doing. I’d also be betting on sensors and more cameras on all the approaches to the property.”

“We have to do something.” There was a note of desperation in Tammy’s voice. “We can’t get this close and not try.”

“We still don’t know for sure if Jerry’s there,” Layla pointed out. “What if he’s not, and this Vincent catches us trespassing?”

Scott, who had been sitting there mulling things over, said: “We could try an upfront approach. Jack could call him and tell him we’ve asked for his help, and he thought Vincent might help search. See if we can go and see him…but a couple of us could get out down the road a bit. Go in the back way, check things out.”

Jack nodded. “I was thinking along the same lines, arranging a meeting with him. But if I’m taking you there to see him, who’s going in the back way? You and Tammy, I’m guessing, since you were the two carrying. But, if you’ll excuse me saying so, amateurs can get shot—or shoot other people. How much experience have you had with guns?”

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