Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery (2 page)

Jerry bounded up to join Tammy, and Georgie’s mouth dropped open. “That’s
not
Jerry!” She spared a moment to shoot a bemused glance at Layla, who was waiting for her reaction with a huge grin.

“Told you it was a don’t-miss.” Layla returned her attention to the stage.

“But Jerry has never in his life dressed in retro.
Never.
”

“He wasn’t besotted with Tammy before,” Layla pointed out.

Georgie stared at her brother, the Danny Zuko half of the equation. His hair was smoothed back and swept up into a quiff at the front, and his gym-honed body looked amazing in a tight black t-shirt and black pants. He looked alarmingly sexy and dangerous.

“The question is,” Layla muttered, “Can he dance?”

“He can, actually,” Georgie confirmed absently, watching her brother sling an arm around Tammy’s shoulders and blow kisses to cheering faces upturned to watch the show. “He tells me it’s an invaluable aid to picking up women.”

“Sounds like Jerry,” Layla said, and then added, “Come to think of it, there wasn’t much dancing in that video clip anyway. As long as he can act.”

That made Georgie laugh. “Jerry’s done nothing
but
act from the time he was in diapers. It’s an essential skill for a schmoozer like him.”

The band played the opening few bars to
You’re the One that I Want
, and Jerry walked over to the side of the stage to stand with his back to Tammy, feigning ignorance of her presence. She winked at the audience and then set her hands on two trim hips while she eyed his back.

Laughing, Layla and Georgie joined in the cheers and clapped to the beat.

Tammy walked over to tap Jerry on the shoulder, and he whirled, his eyes widening dramatically at the sight of her. The music swelled, and the crowd roared in anticipation.

Watching the song unfold, Georgie could scarcely believe this was her brother. She’d seen him in camo gear with his preppers; she’d seen him in a tux; she’d seen him in smart casual. She’d never seen him looking as though he should be racing hot rods with the bad boys from the 50s.

And, dammit,
this
look suited him as much as anything else.

Layla leaned over and yelled in her ear, “
And the legend grows!”

Georgie nodded. Exactly. Jerry already had a huge profile among the RVing community, and this would make him the darling of the retro set as well. With the lovely Tammy kicking up her heels by his side, he would be unstoppable.

Tammy and Jerry pranced about the stage, Tammy singing her own part and Jerry miming his. When they finished, the applause took a full minute to die down. They hugged and kissed and obligingly held a few poses for the cameras. Then Jerry jumped down, turned around and theatrically held out his arms for Tammy to leap into, which she did flawlessly.

“One more before the break?” Jerry yelled up to the band, with Tammy in his arms. They gave a thumbs-up and, to the crowd’s delight, launched straight into
Greased Lightnin’.

“I’m there!” squealed Layla, and threw herself into the gyrations with some of her cronies. “C’mon, Georgie!”

One of the regulars at retro events echoed, “Yeah, c’mon, Georgie!” and dragged her into the mêlée.

She grinned at him, her gypsy skirts flying and the ribbons twined in her hair fluttering, and felt a huge surge of delight.

This was
so
her scene.

~~~

After dinner, Georgie and Layla joined Tammy and Jerry in his big black monster of an RV, partly meeting for a rundown on vintage and retro sales but mostly to just hang out and talk. For a change, Georgie felt quite warm towards her brother. He was actually helping to grow the vintage division—instead of working against it— and had even made the effort to get in character for the retro crowd. That was
huge.

He eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me with that weird little grin? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure if it’s really Jerry I’m looking at,” she said, “or if all this is a trick to lull me into a false sense of security.”

He flashed her a full-wattage Jerry B. Goode grin, the one that the TV cameras loved and that made women swoon. It usually had no effect whatsoever on her, but tonight, with Jerry in his bad-boy Danny Zuko outfit, it had a certain rakish charm.

Take two ibuprofen and lie down for a while, Georgie
, she told herself.

“Tams has been at me forever to come and join in,” he said. “So I did. What, you think I don’t appreciate the effort you girls are putting in?”

Georgie and Layla looked at each other, and Tammy hid a small smile.

Jerry, always quick to pick up on what was not being said, shrugged. “OK, I might have made a wrong move or two in the past. But I fixed it, didn’t I?”

Quelling the impulse to point out that his ‘wrong moves’, like threatening to move the vintage trailer division to a seedy part of town, were purely based on self-interest, she simply nodded. “You did. And now you’re going above and beyond. But now that you’ve appeared once, the crowd will expect it.” Shamelessly, she piled on flattery. “They loved you. They see you and Tammy as a pair. Better block out all the retro rallies in your diary.” She sat back and beamed at him.

“Hear, hear!” Tammy raised her glass in a toast and planted a kiss on Jerry’s cheek. “The next one we’ve scheduled is five weeks away. It’s a Happy Days theme. How do you feel about Fonzie?”

A slow smile spread across Jerry’s face. He put his head on one side while he regarded Tammy, looking sexy and irresistible in her black Sandy spandex and killer red heels. A tiny hint of calculation flashed in his eyes.

Uh oh, thought Georgie. Some kind of trade-off coming up here…

“Sure, babe,” he said easily, reaching across to tug on one tousled blonde curl. “Fonzie’s an easy move sideways from Danny Zuko. Who are you going to be?”

“Joanie, I guess.” She grinned at him and turned sideways to lie back on one of the charcoal and ebony striped armrests, casually plunking her feet across his knees.

Jerry eased off one red shoe and massaged her foot, while Tammy heaved out a sigh. “Oh, that feels good. I love these shoes, but my feet are killing me.
Hours
of dancing.”

“Find some saddle shoes and go bobbysoxer,” Layla said, sticking out a foot to show her practical footwear. “Dance all night and come up laughing.”

“But she looks so good in heels,” Jerry objected, slipping off the second red shoe and holding it up like a trophy before putting it down and resuming his duties as a masseur. Then he added casually, “Might as well wear them now; she won’t be in high heels to talk with the preppers. No dancing at the Apocalypse.” He laughed.

And there it is,
thought Georgie. She caught the guarded look in Tammy’s eye and raised an eyebrow. “To talk to the preppers…?”

“Quid pro quo,” Tammy explained, her smile somewhat forced. “Jerry puts in time with vintage if I do the same with preppers.”

Georgie waved a hand at all the black spandex. “You never wear anything but retro, Tams. How are
you
going to help sell bug-out vehicles and ‘Get Out Of Dodge’ packs?”

“Retro might not be quite the look,” Jerry allowed, “although survivalists are learning more about traditional farming and crafts. Home-grown food, making do, recycling clothes. But it’s Tammy’s former life that we’re calling on.”

From the other side of the RV, reclining in a leather easy chair, Layla sat up and paid attention. “Tams! You were a
prepper
? No, you
weren’t.”

“Of course I wasn’t.” Tammy did a little shimmy in her skin-tight Grease outfit, a movement that had Jerry grinning in appreciation. “Do I
look
like one?”

“Not right now,” Georgie said, “but remember, we’ve seen you go incognito. You could play anyone.”

“Preppers don’t have a ‘look’, anyway.” Jerry warmed to his theme. “They have a lifestyle. They don’t all dress like commandos, but they’re prepared for all eventualities. Tams can talk to anyone. Throw in a few guns, and what prepper could resist her?”

Georgie and Layla spoke at the same time. “
Guns
?”

“Jerry,” Tammy said warningly, “I told you, no guns.”

“You don’t have to fire them. Just talk about them as though you know what you’re doing.”

“And how, exactly, is Tammy supposed to know anything about guns?” Georgie asked.

Jerry looked faintly guilty, as though he had betrayed confidence. “Uh…well…you tell them, babe.”

Tammy rolled her eyes and hitched herself up, kicking free of Jerry’s grip. She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, a tiny crease in her forehead. “I know guns, right?” she said reluctantly. “My dad and brothers hunted. They still hunt. I used to go out with them.”

“So Tams and I came to an agreement.” Jerry grinned at them all happily. “I play Danny Zuko and make nice at the retro meets. I help to expand the division. In return, she talks guns and survival in the wild with preppers.”

“I’m not wearing camo gear.” Tammy pointed a finger at him with a clear warning in her blue eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of asking you to, honey. Just forget the swing skirt and bobby sox, OK?”

While listening to their exchange, Georgie had been watching their body language.

Tammy was not comfortable with this.

Jerry, on the other hand, was not only comfortable but was hiding something. The one thing he couldn’t control was that telltale twitch in his jaw; the sure signal over their years growing up together that her brother was up to no good.

She was determined to find out what.

The next morning Georgie and Layla waved as Tammy pulled away with her cherry red and white trailer in tow. A cheerful little loop of scarlet flags strung along the truck fluttered in the breeze.

She slowed and stuck her head out of the window as she passed by, her Sandy curls peeking out from under a cherry-sprigged bandana. “See you back at Elkhart!”

Georgie nodded. “Three days!”

Jerry rolled along behind her in his monster black and gold RV, casting a shadow over them as he passed. Unlike Tammy, he had ditched the retro look in favor of cargo pants and a t-shirt with the Johnny B. Goode logo. “Bye girls!” He pointed a finger at Georgie and grinned annoyingly. “Keep those sales targets up, now!”

Georgie choked back an unladylike reply and merely smiled coolly, which simply earned her a laugh. Her brother had always liked pressing her buttons.

He moved on and she watched him follow Tammy’s trailer out of the campground and up the road, staring after them until they were out of sight, frowning.

Disquiet curled uncomfortably within her.

Layla touched her arm. “What’s up?”

Georgie turned to meet her friend’s concerned gaze. “I don’t know. I just feel that something’s… off. Like I should run after Tammy and tell her to be careful.” She shook her head. “But careful of what? It’s just a feeling.”

By now, Layla knew that if Georgie said she had a bad feeling about something, it was time to take notice. “Time to talk to the crystal ball?” she suggested tentatively.

Georgie’s experiences with the crystal ball over the past few days didn’t give her much hope, but it was worth a go. Anything to quell this queasy feeling of almost-dread in her gut.

“I’ll give it a shot. You keep packing up; I’ll come over when I’m done.”

All around them, people were hitching up retro trailers, many of them to vintage cars. It was a casual process, with plenty of catch-up chats going on at the same time. As usual, everyone was reluctant to leave.

Georgie, dressed in Boho pants and a drawstring blouse, ran up the steps of her caravan and closed the door against the noise of departure. She needed to concentrate.

The crystal ball rested on its usual shelf, covered with Rosa’s old velvet cloth. “
Please
,” Georgie murmured as she moved it to the table and slid off the covering. “I need
something
…”

She rested her hands on the globe and closed her eyes, thinking of Tammy and Jerry heading off on the road to Elkhart. Were they going to be involved in an accident?

No, she thought, that wasn’t it. They were going to reach Elkhart safely, but what was in store for them after that?

Under her fingertips, the crystal ball stayed firm and cool. Georgie concentrated harder, but her thoughts kept intruding, skittering around in her mind like nervous mice. Tammy, Jerry, Tammy, Jerry… they were her
family,
she
had
to be able to see what was coming.

Nothing.

Georgie opened her eyes and looked bleakly at the crystal ball, knowing what she’d see. Clear, cold crystal, gleaming in the bright morning light filtering through the stained glass windows. There was none of the growing warmth that she’d come to expect; no soft white mist that allowed messages through.

If only Scott were here. Her mind filled with the image of his open, friendly face and smiling eyes the color of whisky in sunlight. He’d been gone for three weeks now after answering a call for help from a former work buddy in the Cherokee National forest in Tennessee. Thank goodness he was getting close to the end of his relief stint. She hadn’t realized how much she would miss his steady presence in her life until he was gone.

She smiled, remembering his calm assertion at the rally back in California.
We’re going to get married one day, but don’t worry about it now.

Married to Scott… She had no idea how that was going to work, once his visa expired and he had to return to Australia, while she was tied up with the vintage trailer division of her father’s RV Empire back here. She could foresee lots of problems with sorting that one out.

But right now he
wasn’t
here, and she still had the problem of what was going to happen to Tammy.

She sighed and picked up Rosa’s velvet cloth to cover the crystal ball again.

They’d be back in Elkhart in a few days. By then her great-grandmother would be climbing the walls with her enforced inactivity, getting crankier by the minute and making her grandson Johnny’s life a misery. She would probably welcome a visit…and maybe Georgie could find out what was going on with her crystal ball.