Read Online Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery by Marg McAlister - Free Book Online
Authors: Marg McAlister
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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
“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
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