Hiding the portafilter on the coffee machine, hiding other things—that seemed petty, just to make life harder. Scott had commented that it felt like the work of a woman, but Georgie wasn’t so sure.
The women in the crystal ball were all sitting in a circle, passing something around. Georgie squinted, trying to see what it was, but then abruptly she wasn’t looking at the whole group but at a pair of hands, holding an object.
“It’s a square from a quilt!” she exclaimed, looking at the careful stitching around the picture formed from colorful scraps of fabric, and the rough edges that showed the batting in the center.
The square was passed from hand to hand, and then the image dissolved completely.
A glance at Scott showed that he was as puzzled as she was. “That picture in the square,” he said. “What was it? Anything significant?”
Without taking her eyes from the crystal ball, Georgie tried to remember. “It looked like a bunch of flowers. Don’t know what that means.” She held up a hand for silence, watching intently. Something else was appearing in the mist, but it was indistinct.
A blocky-looking building, with a table out front. Two-storey…was that a flash of orange? Georgie peered closer, but it was already fading.
She could feel the warmth of the crystal ball fading under her fingertips, and sure enough, the mist gradually dissipated.
Feeling somewhat disappointed, she sat back and huffed out a sigh. “It’s gone. I thought I’d get more than that.”
“It must mean something,” Scott said mildly, patting her hand. “Let’s think. It all has to add up to something.”
“All right.” Georgie sat back. “First, we saw Rosa.”
“Which means something in itself,” Scott pointed out. “Every time she’s appeared in the past, it’s been a signal to pay attention.”
“Especially in my first attempts,” Georgie said wryly, thinking back to her early days experimenting with the crystal ball, completely unsure of what she should be doing.
“The second image was mum,” Scott said, “and she will have done a number of spreads after the girls’ phone call. Ask her about the astrological one.”
Feeling more cheered, Georgie nodded. “Okay. Then, after Louise, we saw the women with the quilt square.”
“Featuring a basket of flowers.” Scott made a face. “The actual design may or may not be significant. It could be more a push for you to—”
“Find the group of women,” Georgie finished for him. “Yes, I thought of that. Adele has a quilting group—she’s the woman I met at the bakery. I was planning on turning up one day anyway, to tell them about my quilt, and do some work on the square from Tamborine Mountain.”
“When do they meet?”
“Not sure. I can find out.” Georgie’s mind moved to the final image. “And finally a building. This case seems to be all about buildings, and landlords…I wonder if this is another building owned by Stan Lambert? Maybe someone else is having trouble with him?”
“I didn’t recognize it.” Scott’s brow furrowed in the same way as Georgie’s when she tried to recall an image. “It was there and gone in the blink of an eye, and it was fuzzy anyway.”
“I saw a flash of orange, and a table. With an umbrella.”
“Yes, I caught that. We could drive around, look for something similar. Yamba’s not that big.”
“All right. We’ll put it on the to-do list.”
Scott sat back. “You didn’t get any impressions, sudden thoughts about any of this?”
“Not today,” Georgie admitted regretfully. “Not a whisper. Images only. This can be such a frustrating game.”
She took a last look at the crystal ball, but it was completely clear, winking back at her in the flickering light of the candle. “All right. How about you write down what you remember, and I’ll phone your mum.”
Louise, and an astrological spread…
Suddenly, deep inside her, she felt a flicker of hope.
They could solve this.
Just as long as nothing too bad happened to Viv and Lissa while they were going through the process.
14
Calling Louise
From the speed with which Louise answered the call, Georgie guessed that she had probably been sitting there waiting.
“Georgie? Thank goodness. I’ve been dying to compare notes with you,” Louise said immediately, her voice loud and clear through the phone’s speaker. “Oh, I’m sorry, that was rude, wasn’t it? How are you enjoying Yamba?”
Georgie and Scott both laughed.
“We having a great time, thanks Louise,” Georgie said, “but I can understand you’ve got a bit on your mind at the moment. You’ve heard from Viv and Lissa?”
“Yes, a couple of hours ago.” A note of censure entered into Louise’s normally cheerful tone. “I can’t believe those girls waited this long before telling me what’s been going on. Smack on the hand for those two.”
“I think they were hoping it was just a run of bad luck; that they would sort themselves out.” Georgie met Scott’s eyes and bit back a smile as he slashed a finger across his throat.
“Well, it’s not as though I’m some decrepit old bat that has to be protected from all this,” Louise went on in an aggrieved tone. “They know that I can help, if I have the facts.”
Scott opened both hands out to the side, and mouthed “See?”
Moving on quickly, Georgie said, “I’m sure you’ve done a reading tonight. I’ve just finished doing one here, with the crystal ball. The first thing I saw was Rosa, and immediately after that an image of you reading the cards. I wasn’t sure whether that was in reference to tonight, or whether you were already picking up on something.”
“I love the way your great-grandmother pops in to say hello,” Louise exclaimed in true delight. “I wish that I could do what you do. I wonder if I could learn?”
Georgie thought of the way that Louise interpreted both cards and horoscopes in such an intuitive way, and immediately nodded. “I’m sure you could. You’re already tapping into something.” She looked at Scott and laughed. “Your son is nodding away here in agreement.”
“Mind you,” Scott put in, leaning close to the phone and raising his voice, “you don’t really need Rosa to appear in a crystal ball. You already talk to her more often than she talks to her own family.”
“She’s fantastic. I wish she lived closer.” Then Louise’s voice became more businesslike. “But let’s talk about the girls. We had a long talk this afternoon, and I think they’ve told me everything – from when things started to go wrong, with the rewiring expenses, the broken pipe, that ridiculous situation with being asked to move tables on Melbourne Cup day–can you believe that?–and then having to close down because of those flaming cockroaches. Cockroaches.” Indignation made her voice rise a few decibels.
“What’s your take on all this?”
“Oh, they’re being targeted. No doubt at all.”
“Sabotage?”
“Absolutely. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you and Scotty are there to give them some support. I suggested to Tony that we come down too, but he says no. What do you think?”
Georgie looked at Scott. He shook his head.
“Maybe not just yet. Give it a couple more days, see what we can find out.”
“All right,” Louise said, her voice resigned. “That seems to be the consensus, then. Now, do you want to go first or shall I?”
“I’ll tell you what I saw, first.”
“Fine. Fire away.”
For the next five minutes, Georgie sketched a quick picture of what had happened since they arrived in Yamba – finding the cafe closed, doing a reading and getting the impression that there was more than one person involved, and the different personalities of the people she’d met. She finished off with a quick rundown of what she had seen in the crystal ball.
“That’s about it, I think.” She looked at Scott. “Did I leave out anything?”
/> “Only that I’ve also put a call in to Bluey, but I haven’t heard back yet. He’s checking into Stan Lambert for us, and anyone who might be in business with him. See if there’s anything in his background.”
“Good,” said Louise. “One way or the other, we’ll get to the bottom of this. All right, let me tell you what I’ve seen in the cards. I’ve been doing a few different spreads and, as Georgie saw, one of the ones that made me take a second look was the astrological spread. There’s somebody significant that you should be looking at. It’s a female, an Aries. She is amenable, caring, but that’s led her into trouble. And aligned with her in some way I see another female–someone a bit more intense, determined, who has been somewhat impatient with the first one. This one is older, and either a Taurus or a Gemini. I’m leaning towards Taurus.”
Georgie was scribbling on a notepad and pen that she had in readiness. “Okay, got it. Co-operative Aries, linked with an older woman, Taurus or Gemini. So the older one might be more of a community leader, perhaps?” She thought of Irene Wilson, with a finger in every pie. She’d have to check and see what birth sign she was. “This first one, the Aries. Are you getting a sense that she is the sort of person who is always helping out in the community, or that she is easily led and pushed around?”
Louise hesitated for a moment, and then said slowly, “Maybe people presume upon her good nature? Look for women’s groups, she might be one of those worker bees who turn up all the time and rarely get any of the accolades.”
“Hmmm.” Georgie’s mind went immediately to the group of women she had seen with the quilting square. “Would this be connected with the quilting group I saw?”
“Could be.” Louise’s voice sharpened with interest. “If you connect your reading with mine, then that might be where you’d find her.”
“Okay. What else?”
“You said you had a feeling that there were men involved. And more than one?”
“Gut feeling.” Georgie laughed. “Don’t ask me to explain.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I think you’re right. I see two men involved, with a third kind of on the periphery. When I link it with Viv and Lissa, that is. The one to watch is Cancer, but I think on the cusp, so could be a Leo. Look for someone with a birthday late July, early August. The other one, I’m getting a sense it’s a Capricorn.”
Georgie nodded as she scribbled. “I can see I’m going to have a challenge in front of me, finding out when everyone’s birthday is.”
“Could be awkward,” Louise admitted. “With me it’s not a problem. Everyone expects an astrologer to be curious about birthdays.”
Scott raised a hand. Georgie grinned at him. “You may speak.”
“Just an idea,” Scott suggested. “Maybe Viv and Lissa could collect birthdays, tell everyone they get a free cup of coffee on their special day. And a cupcake with a candle in it.”
Georgie regarded him with awe. “You know, that’s a really good idea.”
“I have them occasionally,” he said modestly.
“There’s something else,” Louise went on. “They said they had a broken water pipe a few months back, and it caused problems?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell them to look at that again. Or maybe check the roof for leaks. I see further problems with water.”
“Right.”
“And suggest they check their house, too,” Louise added as an afterthought. “I saw water, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be the cafe. And it could be storm damage. Pay attention to the weather report: there’s some nasty weather coming your way.”
“All right, I’ll tell them.” Georgie looked at her scribbled notes. “Anything else?”
“Not right now, but now that I know what’s going on, there could be. I’ll keep doing readings. Meanwhile, I have a strong feeling about this group of women, especially the two that I mentioned. Follow that up, if you can.”
“I will. I’ll ask Adele when the quilting group meets—I wanted to go there anyway, to do my first square. And I want to show them the quilt you made for me, so they can see how I got inspired.”
“I wish I could be there with you. Now, you will keep me informed, won’t you, Georgie? Even if those naughty girls tell you not to worry me?”
“I promise,” Georgie said, meaning every word. “It’s worse not to know. And anyway, you’re part of the investigation team now, remember?”
“So I am.” Louise sounded happier. “I’ll call you if I pick up anything else.”
She rang off, and Georgie sat back, going over everything she’d shared with Louise, before looking at Scott. “What do you think? Did anything stand out for you?”
“Mainly,” he said wryly, “that Viv and Lissa are in trouble. But they’ve got us, as Mum said. And whoever is messing with them is going to find it’s a lot harder now.” He looked uncharacteristically grim.
Georgie reached over and took his hand. “They’re family, Scott. I don’t like seeing anyone treated badly…but family? They’ll regret it.”
15
Maureen’s Rebellion
Maureen watched Trevor Chaffey’s white Ute come to a stop outside Coffee, Cakes & Crepes, just as it did every morning. When the cafe had closed down for a few days he’d called in once to get a cappuccino from her instead, but she could tell by the expression on his face while he watched her make it that she was doing something wrong.
He’d paid for it and not said a word, polite as always, but he’d never asked for another one. Fish and chips, yes, but not coffee.
The driver’s door opened and Trev got out, walking around the back of the Ute to check that the ladder was secure on its racks above the shining checker plate toolboxes and that all straps were tight. He had a reputation around town as a good, reliable tradesman. Trev always turned up when he said he would, did more than he needed to, and charged reasonable fees.
There’d been a whisper or two around town that he was keen on Viv Mowbray, but she’d never seen them out together.
In ten minutes Trev was out again, and shortly after that, young Amber Kaye pulled up in Shane Carter’s white van from the bakery. Amber always wore white—her idea of what an apprentice should wear, Maureen thought—but it was inevitably close-fitting and low-cut.
Amber Kaye, in Maureen’s humble opinion, was little more than a tramp, and Shane Carter had rocks in his head for dropping Viv to take up with Amber.
There were, she reflected, a lot of men who wouldn’t be able to see a good thing if it came up and bit them.
That thought had her turning around to look at her husband Jim.
Forty-seven years, she’d been married to Jim Beggs. Doing his bidding, helping him to run the cafe, maintaining his house and listening to his never-ending grumbling.
Having to justify every penny she spent.
Jim turned to get the batter out of the fridge and caught her watching him. Immediately, his mouth turned down at the corners and his eyebrows lowered. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, you might get yourself out here and lend a hand. I’ve got that backpacker coming in soon to show him the ropes.” His voice was heavy with resentment, the implication being that if she pulled her weight he wouldn’t need to hire a backpacker.
His words made her see red. If you have nothing better to do. She had a hundred things she’d rather do. It was all right for Jim to go AWOL several times a week playing golf with his mates, but when she wanted a morning off to go join Adele’s quilting group or learn photography with Chris, that was a different kettle of fish.
Jim pointed at the chopping board and the iceberg lettuce waiting on it. “Lettuce needs shredding.”
And that was another thing: Jim didn’t hold with what he termed new-fangled machines that might lighten the load a bit. He wouldn’t know what julienne meant and he wouldn’t care.
No, thought Maureen. Shred your own lettuce.
Followed by, with a new, burning resentment: I really don’t like you, Jim Beggs.
<
br /> Cranky old sod could handle it himself for half an hour. It wasn’t as though they were overrun with customers.
Maureen turned her back on him, untied her apron, folded it tidily and tucked it under the counter. She grabbed her purse, lifted up the counter flap, let it bang down behind her and walked out of the door, ignoring his furious “Maureen! Where the hell are you going?” as she went down the steps and across the road and into Coffee, Cakes & Crepes where the women were nice to her and where they had the best cupcakes she had ever tasted.
Lissa, behind the coffee machine, glanced up to see who was coming in. Amber, swinging an empty tray, came out of the kitchen with a stony-faced Viv following her and stopped abruptly.
Georgie stopped inserting napkins in the silver holders, poised with a stack in one hand.
They all stared at her.
Heaven knew what they could see on her face.
“Lissa,” she said, “could I have a cappuccino, please? In a mug. Low fat milk. And…” she glanced at the display cabinet, where she could see cupcakes with mocha-colored swirls of icing and chocolate flakes. “And one of those chocolate cupcakes. Thanks.”
She marched over to the coffee table that held a neat stack of magazines, picked one up, and made herself comfortable on the big squishy dusky pink sofa that she’d never had time to sit on before.
For a moment there was dead silence in the room. Maureen buried her head in the magazine, flipping pages without seeing anything, almost in a panic at her daring, and of course it was Amber who spoke first.
“Are you all right, Maureen?” Her voice held speculation rather than concern. “Your Jim’s standing over there on the steps with his hands on his hips looking like he’s ready to kill someone.”
“I’m fine, thank you, Amber.”
Viv’s voice cut in. “See you later, Amber. Georgie will run your order down later. Nine-thirty, right?”
“I’ll take them now. I’ll wait.”
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