Free Georgie Be Good by Marg McAlister Page B

other woman staring resolutely at the wall, her arms still folded, her fingers digging into her skin. She was rigid with the effort to maintain control. 
    Georgie spoke softly, her voice kind. “Rachel…I’m seeing a bigger problem than that.” She reached over and touched her hand.
    Just one gentle touch was enough to bring Rachel undone. Abruptly, her whole face crumpled. She buried her face in her hands, and a low keening sound came from her. 
    Startled, Georgie jumped to her feet. “Rachel!” She went to her and put an arm around Rachel’s shaking shoulder, and the wave of grief almost sent her reeling. 
    Oh God, there was something so wrong here. 
    “Rachel, I’m so sorry.” She rubbed her back, and then crossed to the sink to get a glass of water. She put it on the table, along with the box of tissues. 
    It wasn’t clear to her yet whether Rachel knew exactly what was up with Izzie, or whether her daughter was keeping things from her mother, too. From the level of grief, Georgie was inclined to think she knew. 
    While she waited for the storm to subside, she quietly uncovered the crystal ball. 
    If you’re there, Rosa, she thought, this might be a good time to lend a hand.
    Nothing. 
    In the muted light inside the trailer, the crystal remained clear, giving away nothing. 
    Rachel’s sobs finally died away, and she raised her head, avoiding Georgie’s gaze. She pulled out a couple of tissues and wiped her face, and then blew her nose. 
    “I’m sorry about that.” Although she was attempting to keep her voice neutral, it wobbled. 
    “Don’t be. It’s understandable. You’re worried about your daughter.”
    “ Worried .” Just one word contained a world of desolation. “Worried.” Rachel said nothing more for a full half minute, and then straightened with a shuddering sigh. “Grace is right; there is something wrong, but there’s nothing you can do. I’m handling it.” 
    Wild images of Rachel turned vigilante tumbled through Georgie’s mind, shooting the man concerned and then being arrested, but she was pretty sure that was just her overactive imagination, not a presentiment of things to come. 
    She felt her way, wary of making things worse. “You’re handling it?” 
    Rachel’s chin came up, and she met Georgie’s eyes challengingly. “Yes, I am.” 
    Georgie sighed. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job as a mother, Rachel. God knows I have no idea. But…could Izzie need…professional help?” 
    Rachel’s eyes bored into hers, and then she spared a glance for the crystal ball before looking back. “Just what did you see in that thing?” 
    “When Grace was here?” Georgie hedged.
    “Yes, when Grace was here. Or at any time. How much do you know?” 
    “It’s not all laid out for me like some Technicolor movie, unfortunately.” Out of the corner of her eye, Georgie saw a faint hint of white in the depths of the crystal ball. “I sometimes get names, sometimes faces, sometimes shadows. I might sense things, or get a definite message—but that doesn’t happen often.”
    “What do you know about Izzie?” 
    Cards on the table, Georgie thought, her heart beating faster. “I strongly feel that she has been abused in some way. Probably something to do with her dancing. An audition?” 
    “What?” whispered Rachel, her eyes widening in shock. “You saw that? In there ?” She glanced at the crystal ball, and visibly flinched. 
    Georgie followed her gaze and saw a mist that had swiftly turned an angry grey, not swirling gently as it usually did, but battering against the constraints of the crystal. She put out a hand, wondering. 
    Rosa…?
    “What’s happening?” Rachel’s eyes were still fixed on the mist, her fingers shredding a tissue. 
    Georgie held up a hand, concentrating. 
    Something was spiraling out of control. She looked at Rachel urgently. “Was I right about Izzie?” 
    For a moment Rachel looked as though she wasn’t