Undercover In Glimmer Creek

“The Beckley kid sure overreacted,” Gabe commented as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

“He was worried about Jamie.”

“There wasn’t any cause for concern. The other day he mentioned growing up in California, so he must have experienced earthquakes.”

“I think it’s sweet that his first thought was for Jamie’s safety,” Tessa murmured, opening doors and looking into each office.

She really was a sentimentalist, or else putting on a darned good act.

“You don’t know it was his first thought,” Gabe retorted. “He might have just told you what you wanted to hear.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you always this cynical?”

“I’m just being realistic.”

“That isn’t what I call it.”

A static burst came over the radio, followed by a report to Tessa that two large pottery planter pots had knocked together and cracked in the garden at the Victorian Cat.

Damage to a garden feature seemed inconsequential, but the expression on Tessa’s face tightened. “Thanks, Aunt Polly. How are the cats?”

“They seem to be fine, but Mrs. Canter asked if you could stop by when you have a chance. Moby Dick is hiding, and she wants to be sure that he’s all right.”

“Will do. The train depot is clear.”

“That’s everything, then. The city building inspector is doing a walk-through, but he doesn’t anticipate any issues,” explained the woman on the other end of the radio. “Are you, um, going over to see your dad?”

Tessa pressed a finger to her temple. “After I stop in at the guild’s meet and greet and before I check on Moby Dick. Is Pop at the VC?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks.” Tessa glanced at her watch. “Will you also call Sarah and see if she has additional munchies available to put out at the concert hall? It might improve the mood over there.”

“Already done. Talk to you later.”

Gabe stayed with Tessa as she walked toward the concert hall again. “Who is Sarah?” he asked.

“What?” Tessa gave him a distracted look. “Oh, one of my cousins. She has a bakery and catering business. We have a contract with her to provide all the food and beverages served at Poppy Gold.”

Gabe thought about the interrelations of family working for the conference center. Having so many people intimately connected meant more potential cohorts who might be willing to look the other way in case of wrongdoing. Even when appalled by their behavior, people often hesitated to blow the whistle on a relative.

The old town square park was quiet once more, and they found everyone back in the concert hall. A few were nervously discussing the earthquake, but most were chatting about the upcoming conference and classes. Contrary to what he would have expected, a number of them were fairly young.

“I thought everyone from a craft organization would be a grandmotherly type,” he commented when he and Tessa were back outside.

“Don’t say that to anyone in there,” she advised hastily. “The guild gets all ages. People are fascinated by American patchwork. It’s one of the few art forms that originated in the United States. My mom used to have weekly quilting bees, and our guests loved attending.”

“You aren’t going to revive the custom yourself?”

“When I have more time. Possibly this fall. You should head back to Maintenance now,” Tessa suggested as they crossed the street.

“I thought we were teaming up for the rest of the day on earthquake tasks.” Gabe tried to make the comment sound innocent. He was having trouble getting a handle on Tessa, so an excuse to spend the afternoon with her was a windfall.

“We were only teamed for the building checks following the earthquake.”

“I should still check with your father to see if he wants me to work on the parking lots, or if there’s something more critical now.”

* * *

WHILE IT WAS a valid consideration, frustration welled in Tessa. She wanted to talk to her dad in private. Liam was unpredictable these days, but it was a fair guess that he’d be unhappy about any damage at the Victorian Cat. It had been the first place her parents had restored when they were developing Poppy Gold, and they’d lived in the apartment there until she was four.

On the other hand, maybe it would help to have Gabe around. The two men obviously got along well, though Tessa wasn’t sure what Pop saw in the former navy man. They were complete opposites. Her father, despite the realities of running a large bed-and-breakfast business, still had faith in people, while Gabe seemed to be a hard-nosed skeptic with the sensitivity of a bulldozer.

“All right,” she acceded reluctantly.

Tessa walked swiftly toward the Victorian Cat. The earthquake, however minor, had disrupted a busy afternoon, but at least the staff’s emergency-preparedness training had paid off.

“Hey, Pop,” she called as she entered the garden and saw him cutting faded roses from a bush.

He smiled, though he still looked melancholy. The broken ginger jar–style pots were nearby. They were tall and made of fired cobalt pottery. Seven of them surrounded a birdbath, with flowers spilling over the sides. A smug brass cat sat in the middle of the water, as if daring any bird to come for its daily bath.

It was one of the focal points her mother had created in the gardens at Poppy Gold, and a pang went through Tessa. The rounded sides of two pots had smacked together, and nearly identical chunks of pottery had broken off, exposing the soil inside.

“We were lucky—it looks as if this is the only damage,” she said, determinedly upbeat. “But it’s okay. We can turn the pots so the breaks are pointed toward the birdbath until we get them repaired or replaced. The holes won’t be visible once the trailing flowers grow out more.”

“Yes, of course. That’s what your mother would have done. Did you get your lunch? I worry when you don’t eat.”

“You don’t need to worry, but I drank your smoothie.” She kissed his cheek, thinking that he was far more prone to missing meals than her. “Thanks, it was delicious.”

“Thank Gabe, he brought it to you.”

“Mmm, yes. He wants to know if you have a special work assignment for him,” she said.

“If needed, I can stay with Tessa and continue helping with any earthquake-related tasks,” Gabe volunteered.

“We’re done,” Tessa said adamantly. “Checking on Moby Dick and Mrs. Canter is mostly a social call. Pop, wasn’t Gabe supposed to be inspecting the parking areas?”

“Oh, yes, he can continue with that,” Liam said. He turned back to the roses, his hand shaking as he cut an additional faded bloom from the bush and dropped it in a basket.

Tessa hurried into the Victorian Cat, pleased to be alone. Gabe’s watchfulness made her nervous.

Upstairs she knocked on the door of the Tea Party suite and called, “Mrs. Canter, it’s Tessa from Poppy Gold management. You wanted me to check on Moby Dick.”

A moment later, a white-haired lady opened the door. “The poor dear was sitting on my lap when the earthquake started, but now he’s hiding under the bed.”

She stepped back, and Tessa crossed to the bed to peer under the edge. Moby Dick stared back at her, blinked and began purring. The little faker. He was a flirt, pretending to be shy when guests arrived, then allowing them to coax him with treats.

He came out and head-butted her leg.

“How wonderful,” Mrs. Canter exclaimed. “You have such a way with cats, Tessa. I knew he’d feel better if you reassured him.”

Tessa dropped several treats on the ground, and Moby Dick gobbled them up. “We’re old buddies. I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s...um, resourceful.”

She’d almost said manipulative, but Mrs. Canter was one of those cat lovers who thought they were perfect angels without a devious bone in their bodies. Her twice-a-year visits to Poppy Gold had begun when Tessa was a teenager and Moby Dick was a tiny ball of white fur.

“How are you doing, Mrs. Canter?” Tessa asked. “I hope you didn’t get shaken up too badly.”

The elderly woman chuckled. “Goodness, I live in Tacoma, Washington. I’ve been through my share of earthquakes, including the Nisqually Quake in 2001. That one was a six point eight, and it cracked the foundation on my house.”

“I’ve only been in minor quakes. Something that powerful must have been frightening.”

Mrs. Canter shook her head. “Mostly I was annoyed when a plant upended over my computer keyboard. Potting soil everywhere. Fortunately the CPU was under the desk and got spared.”

“That’s good to hear. I have to go now, but I hope to see you again before you leave.”

Out in the hallway, Tessa drew a deep breath. She’d wanted to make some client phone calls that afternoon, but it might be best to continue making rounds and ensure everything was running smoothly.

CHAPTER FOUR

LANCE DIDN’T GET a chance to talk to Jamie until she finished her shift at 5:00 p.m. When she came out of Old City Hall, he pulled her close.

“I tried to find you after it happened,” he said. “Tessa told me you were okay and asked me to report to Mrs. Murphy.”

Jamie snuggled in. “I was with a school group.”

“Were you scared?”

She tipped her head back and scrunched her nose. “Not really. We don’t have many earthquakes around Glimmer Creek, but I was so busy telling the kids it was all right that I didn’t think about it.”

“Yeah. I got dizzy before it happened, but now I think it was a small tremor before the bigger quake.”

Jamie looked worried. “What if it wasn’t? You hit your head in the creek on Monday. What if you cracked your skull or something? You know my mom is a doctor and she could—”

“No,” Lance interrupted.

He didn’t want anything to do with a doctor...especially if it was Jamie’s mother and might involve X-rays or something. A few years ago, the school nurse had insisted he go to the emergency room after one of his “accidents,” and they’d asked a bunch of questions. Knowing his foster father would be furious if he told the truth, Lance had lied about falling from a skateboard. After all, it wasn’t as if they were going to do anything to keep the creep from knocking his foster kids around, so why make more trouble for himself?

“Please, Jamie, there’s nothing wrong with me,” he added, seeing hurt in her face.

She didn’t understand; her family had asked all sorts of questions the few times they’d met, like what he wanted to do with his life and about his folks. The Fullertons were nice and didn’t push when he gave them vague answers, but he wasn’t stupid. “Nice” kids had families. If Jamie’s parents learned he’d grown up in foster care and about the mess in Sacramento, they might say she had to stop seeing him.

“I just want to go sit by the creek. Okay, Jamie?”

She didn’t mention it again, but she still seemed worried as she brushed his hair back from the sore spot on his forehead. It was nothing. He’d gotten worse than that a hundred times.

At the creek they sat down by the water, and he pulled a small box from his pocket. “I got something for you.”

Jamie opened the box, and she brightened when she saw the bracelet with a miniature, silver, poppy flower charm attached. “I love it.”

He helped her put it on, and she turned her wrist back and forth, admiring the bracelet, before kissing his cheek.

“It’s perfect, but you don’t have to keep buying me stuff.”

“I like to.”

“I like giving you presents, too,” Jamie said. She reached into her pocket and handed him a bag from the gift emporium on the pedestrian shopping street. Inside was a new pair of sunglasses. “I hope they fit. I know you don’t like wearing a hat.”

“They’re awesome.”

Lance’s chest ached as he put on the sunglasses. He’d hardly ever gotten presents growing up. Sometimes one of his foster mothers had given him a gift for his birthday or Christmas, but it would mostly be stuff she would have bought him anyhow, like a shirt or socks.

But Jamie gave him real presents, not even waiting for his birthday.

He gulped and kissed her.

The idea of losing Jamie was more than he could stand. Somehow he had to find a way to prove to her family that he wasn’t a loser on a loud, beat-up motorcycle. They wanted her to go to college, not just take a few night courses the way she was doing now, so they’d never think a maintenance guy at Poppy Gold was good enough.

Jamie leaned against him as he tried to think of ways to make more money.

Poppy Gold paid him okay, and the Connors were the nicest people he’d ever met besides Jamie, but once the orchards got planted, would they be willing to have him do something else? Or would he need to find a way to start over again?

* * *

“THANKS, STEPHEN,” TESSA said to the city building inspector after he’d given her an all-clear report on Poppy Gold’s buildings.

“Wood-frame structures are fairly resilient in small quakes, but it doesn’t hurt to check,” he said earnestly.

She tried to keep from smiling. Stephen Seibert was an eager beaver—recently out of graduate school—and he relished any opportunity to employ his knowledge.

“Your concern is appreciated,” she assured him.

He grinned and left, probably intent on continuing his efforts in the rest of Glimmer Creek.

Tessa had spent the afternoon talking to guests and employees to be sure they weren’t worried about the earthquake. You never knew how people would react. A few of their out-of-state visitors had rattled nerves, but on the whole, everybody was calm.

At the end of the day she stepped out of Old City Hall and saw Gabe emptying a trash can in the park.

She sighed and walked over, wondering if she’d been too curt with him earlier.

“Hasn’t your shift ended?” she asked.

“I looked at the maintenance checklist and saw a few things that didn’t get done today because of the quake. So I told Liam I’d take care of the ones that were highest priority. I’m just finishing up.”

“I appreciate it, but be sure to put in for overtime.”

Gabe cleared his throat as she started to turn away.

“Tessa, why are the broken ceramic pots a big deal? They’re just flowerpots.”

She hesitated, unsure he’d understand how it hurt her father to lose anything connected to her mother. She’d never seen two people as close as her parents. They’d lived for each other, and that made it even harder to think about falling in love herself. How could anything live up to the standard her mom and dad had set? At the same time, she really wanted children. She knew she could do that on her own, but if possible, she wanted to give her kids a mom and a dad.

“I’ve mentioned that my mother designed the gardens. She died unexpectedly a year and a half ago, and Pop is still struggling,” Tessa said slowly, trying to ignore the empty sensation in her stomach. “He feels connected to Mom when he’s surrounded by the things she loved, so when he found the pots were damaged, it was like losing another little part of her.”

“You, too?”

“In a way. Have you ever lost someone who meant that much?”

“I saw death in the navy, but nobody close.”

“I’m sure it’s still hard to lose someone you’ve served with or were trying to help.”

A strained expression flashed across Gabe’s face and was gone so fast she couldn’t guess the source. Despite the way he’d dismissed the deaths he’d seen, it seemed to her that few people were genuinely impervious to sorrow. They just pushed it down and refused to acknowledge it existed. Still, whatever pain Gabe might feel, he deserved his privacy.

“You were telling me about your mother,” he prompted as he replaced the liner in the trash can he’d emptied.

“My mom got involved in everything, whether it was the church rummage sale or a campaign to buy new books for the library. It seemed impossible she could go so quickly. The whole town was in shock when she died. Everybody adored her.”

* * *

GABE WAS WILLING to concede that many parents were better than his, but Tessa’s mother must have had her share of faults, and putting her on a pedestal couldn’t be productive.

It was just one of those strange things that happened with grief.

One of his men had lost his fiancée in a skiing accident, and after he returned from the funeral, he’d called her the most beautiful and talented woman in the world, along with a few other superlatives. He’d also seemed distracted and depressed and had spent a great deal of time reading his fiancée’s Bible. Gabe had sent him to the base chaplain for counseling and then put him back on leave.

“How did your parents meet, anyway?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. It still seemed curious that Patrick Connor’s son had ended up in a town like Glimmer Creek.

“After Pop got out of the army, he didn’t want to go into the business right away, so his father sent him to Glimmer Creek to sell the family holdings here. A week after arriving, he met my mom at an ice-cream social, and it was love at first sight. They got married a month later.”

“That sounds like the plot of one of those sappy made-for-TV Christmas movies,” Gabe muttered, a second later realizing how rude he must have sounded.

Tessa’s lips thinned, then she smiled. “It does, doesn’t it? We used to joke about it. Pop would say he wanted Tom Hanks to play him and Meg Ryan to play my mom.”

“Did your mother have Meg Ryan’s blond hair and blue eyes?”

“Yup, just like me. Only Mom was taller. I’m the shrimp in the family.”

“I’m having trouble sorting out your relatives. They seem to be everywhere.”

“That isn’t surprising. My mom’s side of the family is all over Glimmer Creek, and a lot of them work for us.”

“But your paternal grandfather owned Poppy Gold?”

“That’s tied up with the town’s history and how Poppy Gold was originally called Connor’s Folly. Glimmer Creek was a mining camp during the 1849 Gold Rush, and Seamus O’Connor, my great-great-something grandfather, got rich here.”

Gabe tried to recall the California history he’d learned as a kid. “I thought most of the forty-niners barely found enough gold to buy food, much less become wealthy.”

“Yeah.” Tessa grinned. “That’s because they were paying three dollars for a single egg and twenty-five dollars a pound for cheese. Seamus quickly realized he could earn more gold selling groceries to prospectors than by breaking his back panning for it. Eventually he sold supplies from Placerville to Sonora. Made a fortune, even by today’s standards.”

Gabe frowned. “Where does the folly come in?”

“Well, in the late 1880s Seamus dropped the O from the beginning of his last name and moved his base of operations to San Francisco. But his great-grandson, James Connor, was a huge believer in preserving cultural heritage...or at least the heritage of the family business. So during the Great Depression, James came back and bought the old part of Glimmer Creek, piece by piece, to preserve it.”

“He was buying when everyone else was losing their shirts,” Gabe mused.

“That’s one way to look at it. James paid top dollar for the Victorians and remaining gold miners’ cabins, along with two hotels, the concert hall, courthouse, stores and city hall. Heck, he even purchased the old 1851 jail. Basically, almost everything from the town’s historical and cultural heyday. He couldn’t get the library that Andrew Carnegie built for Glimmer Creek, but almost everything else went.”

“Which is why the townspeople called it Connor’s Folly,” Gabe guessed.

“Yup, they laughed all the way to the bank. Even more after James bought the train station—trains had long since stopped running through the area. But he gave the town enough funds to build a new city center and modernize the water and sewer system, so Glimmer Creek thought it was worthwhile to relocate their operations.”

“Generous of him.”

Tessa nodded. “The way everybody saw it, James Connor spent a fortune on worthless land and buildings, and they got the money they needed to survive the Depression. Everybody was happy, though Glimmer Creek often worried that the Connors would eventually sell to developers.”

“Which meant they were happy when your father fell in love with a local girl and decided to live here.”

“Thrilled.”

“So how many relatives do you have?”

“Quite a few, though on the Connor side it’s just Pop and my grandparents in San Francisco. Mom, on the other hand, had nine brothers and sisters. Except for Uncle Kurt, all of them have three or more kids, as well. Most live around Glimmer Creek, along with great-aunts and great-uncles and all sorts of first and second cousins.”

Gabe suspected that tracking Tessa’s relatives could be a challenge. Rob had suggested asking her to help in the investigation, but she was still a suspect. Even if she wasn’t guilty, it seemed as if half of Poppy Gold employees were her relatives—and statistics alone suggested that one of them might be involved in the information thefts from TIP. Being related to Tessa wouldn’t necessarily keep them from seizing an opportunity to make illicit money.

And if she was responsible for the thefts, the damage to Poppy Gold Inns would be incalculable.

Before he could say anything else, Tessa straightened her shoulders. “I need to get going. As I said, be sure to put in for overtime. Thanks for your extra effort.” Her brisk tone was reminiscent of Charlotte Angstrom’s no-nonsense manner. “Have a good evening.”

Gabe watched her walk away with wry acceptance, surprised he’d gotten her to talk as much as he had. He just wasn’t the sort of guy who grew on people.

After signing out, he found Liam Connor in his office, gazing at a picture, oblivious to everything else. Recalling how the older man’s hands had trembled while working on the roses, Gabe looked around, half expecting to see a bottle of whiskey or another alcohol of choice. He’d seen the same tremor in his mother’s hands often enough.

“Is everything all right?” he asked finally.

Liam blinked and focused on him. “What? Yes, of course. I was just thinking about how much everything keeps changing, no matter how hard we try to keep it the same.”

Gabe sat in one of the chairs and stretched out his legs. For the past few days they’d chatted for a long while after work and had even gone out to eat together, though he still hadn’t asked the questions he wanted to ask. Maybe now was a good time.

“Do you miss managing Poppy Gold?” he asked.

“No. My...my wife mostly handled the business end. Things got a bit out of hand when I began running it alone. I considered selling, so Tessa quit her job in San Francisco to come back and take over.”

Interesting. Did “out of hand” mean they’d had financial trouble? Yet even as the question formed in Gabe’s mind, he dismissed it. Money problems could lead to bad decisions, but Poppy Gold still appeared quite prosperous.

“Tessa seems competent,” he said. “She never seems to stop moving.”

“She’s been that way since she was little. Full of energy, just like her mother. She came up most weekends from San Francisco to help out, even before my wife...” His voice trailed, and pain filled his eyes.

Gabe thought about Liam’s nickname for his daughter—Tessajinks. On the wall hung a photo of a mischievous-looking golden-haired toddler—presumably Tessa—who fit the cheeky name. Looking at it gave him an odd sensation. His years in the service had carried him into every corner of the globe, and he’d encountered children in the worst circumstances. Injured, hungry, sometimes staring into space with blank eyes... His gut clenched, and he forced his thoughts away from the images he could never quite forget.

His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out, seeing his brother’s name and number on the display. Talking to him would have to wait; Gabe turned the phone off and returned it to his pocket.

“Does Tessa hope to move back to San Francisco at some point?” he asked casually.

Liam seemed surprised by the question. “I don’t think so. She always wanted to run Poppy Gold Inns one day, but after getting her MBA, she went to work for my father’s company to gain management experience.”