Undercover in Glimmer Creek

by Julianna Morris

  “I’ll go now,” he said. “You need to rest.”

  “We haven’t resolved anything.”

  “And we aren’t going to tonight. But it would be great if you could check that housekeeping schedule tomorrow. Let me know so we can get together and talk. Maybe we could conference your great-uncle in on the phone.”

  * * *

  TESSA WRINKLED HER nose and wondered if allowing Gabe to go home was letting him off too easy. He had, after all, suspected her of industrial espionage.

  On the other hand, she felt as if a truck had run over her.

  She stood up. “I’ll call when I have anything. I also want to analyze any patterns related to my other business clients.”

  Gabe followed her to the door, and she opened it.

  “I apologize for suspecting you,” he murmured.

  “Since you seem to suspect everyone, it might not be as big of an insult as I thought,” she returned in the same low tone. “So I...”

  A movement caught her attention on the other side of the garden, a dark figure in the shadows. It probably wasn’t anything, but a chill crept over her.

  “Tessa?”

  “I, um...”

  She hated feeling vulnerable and questioning things that were most likely innocent. More than three hundred people were registered at Poppy Gold for the night, and the gardens were public space. But what if somebody was watching them? It wasn’t impossible; their argument at the new city park could have been observed, along with Great-Uncle Milt’s presence. Perhaps even more critical, she’d drawn attention to Gabe’s and Rob’s presence together on the pedestrian shopping street.

  Unable to think of anything else to divert suspicion, she rose on her toes and pressed close to Gabe.

  “Tessa?” he whispered again, this time against her mouth.

  “Human-shaped shadow across the way,” she mumbled.

  Instantly he pulled her into his arms. He turned, making their profiles more visible to the garden, and gave her a thorough kiss.

  A minute later he released her, and Tessa grabbed the door frame for support. Gabe McKinley’s social skills might be rusty, but he knew how to kiss in no uncertain terms.

  “I’d love to stay, but you need to rest,” he said in a louder voice than he’d used before. “Get better soon, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He touched her lips with the tip of his finger. “Sleep well.”

  His eyes glittered in the light spilling out from the living room, and Tessa could have sworn it was from laughter. Except this was Gabe McKinley, and from what she’d seen, his sense of humor sucked. He barely knew how to crack a smile. If anything, he was just having fun at her expense.

  “You, too.”

  She stepped back inside, grateful the awkward paranoid moment was over. It was all Gabe’s fault. Picking flowers on his way over to her apartment? If someone had been watching from the garden, it was probably an employee wondering if they should report him for inappropriate behavior. While guests sometimes plucked a few blooms, employees didn’t. Heck, there wasn’t any need. Uncle Kurt grew so many cutting flowers for use in the facility, there were plenty available for the asking.

  Tessa’s mood mellowed as she thought about Uncle Kurt. He looked like he should belong in a motorcycle gang, but instead he was a devoted father, grew amazing flowers, had a garage where he specialized in repairing diesel motors and drove a late-model pickup.

  Where were men like that today?

  She took the vase of Western coneflowers into her small kitchen and trimmed off the raw ends before putting them back in water. If Gabe hadn’t shown up, flowers in hand, she wouldn’t have gotten the idea to pretend they were more than friends while saying good-night at her door. Of course, he was also the one who’d made her jumpy about shadows in the garden.

  But as she set the vase on a shelf, Tessa’s wry humor asserted itself. It was just as well she wasn’t interested in Gabe McKinley, since this small bouquet would probably be the last one she ever received from him. He wasn’t the type to send flowers, offer romantic trinkets or go for long, moonlit walks.

  When she crawled into bed a few minutes later, she expected to think about how complicated her life had become with the revelations about industrial espionage and attempted murder.

  Instead, she thought about Gabe.

  And about how her pulse had raced when he kissed her.

  * * *

  GABE WENT STRAIGHT back to the fitness center and the treadmill. The sensation of Tessa’s mouth against his had destroyed the benefit of his earlier workout. He was now even more wired than before.

  Mile after mile ticked by. He increased the speed and incline, pushing his body further. As far as he was concerned, sex was merely a case of scratching an itch with a like-minded partner.

  Gabe finally looked at the clock on the wall and went into a cool-down pace. When his breathing had slowed, he stopped the treadmill and wiped his face.

  Nobody had been at the fitness room when he’d arrived, and he didn’t think anyone had come in since then. By and large, Poppy Gold employees seemed to be the same early-to-bed sort as the rest of the town. Still, there were still the graveyard and swing shifts, so he searched the premises to be sure he was alone. Then keeping an eye on the entrance, he dialed KJ. KJ was short for Kyle John Bermann, though KJ hated his given name so much, it was rarely used.

  “Commander, you’re lucky I wasn’t in bed with somebody,” a low voice growled.

  Gabe’s eyebrow shot up. “You’re in bed?”

  “It’s after two in this part of the country, what do you think?”

  Gabe almost smiled. “I didn’t think you slept. Ever.”

  “Only on nights I spend alone. Which isn’t often. What do you want?”

  “I may have a job for you. Is there anyone you trust available?”

  KJ snorted. “It’s a security business. My butt is on the line if anybody screws up, so if I don’t trust them, they don’t work for me. What’s up?”

  Gabe explained quickly. “Rob is refusing protection,” he concluded, “so it’ll have to be long-range unless I can make him see sense. Even then it would need to be hush-hush to avoid tipping anyone off. The local police are involved, but they can’t assign anyone or put him in protective custody for the same reason.”

  “Is Rob as hardheaded as you?”

  “In his own way, but it’s masked by charm.”

  “Doesn’t sound like he’ll change his mind. I can send a couple of guys right away, but I need the particulars.”

  Gabe gave a concise description of the thefts at Poppy Gold and threats to Rob before reeling off the details needed to watch his brother covertly. Rob’s schedule was utterly predictable, which just made him an easier target.

  “It’ll be a boring job,” KJ said at length.

  “Yeah, but Rob and a group of his executives are returning to Poppy Gold as soon as Tessa Connor makes the arrangements. That’s when things may get more interesting. I’d like some of your people to come posing as guests at the same time, with staggered arrivals to avoid suspicion. They should be very casual and low-key, as if they’re going to a Victorian Disneyland.”

  “Since it’s you, Commander, I’ll come myself. In fact, I’ll do a reconnaissance trip first. That way it will be less questionable if I’m also there at the same time as your brother.”

  Some of Gabe’s tension eased as faint sounds of typing came over the wire. KJ had been one of the best SEALs he’d ever commanded. The business he’d started did a little bit of everything, including consulting on almost any security issue that arose. Nevertheless, he refused to be called a private detective.

  “Got it,” KJ said. “A week from Friday, plane tickets and reservations for one at the Gold Rail Hotel. Say, I can’t fin
d a picture of Tessa Connor on the Poppy Gold website. What’s she like?”

  “Pint-size and never stops moving,” Gabe said reluctantly. KJ was a ladies’ man and his cover commonly included chasing any single woman under sixty.

  “Is she built?”

  “She’s petite.”

  “That’s okay, I’m open-minded. How do I meet her?”

  The question annoyed Gabe for some reason. “That’s up to you, but she does a quick visit in the reception area between one and two each afternoon. She’s one of those managers who talks to the troops every day.”

  “She sounds interesting. I’ll text you after I get in.”

  A faint beep sounded, indicating the end of the call; it was typical of KJ to disconnect without warning. Gabe dropped the phone into his pocket. With the potential threat to Rob, getting KJ involved was the safest move.

  Gabe grabbed his athletic bag and slung it over his shoulder. Morning came quickly, and he ought to get a couple of hours of sleep before reporting to work.

  He would have to tell Tessa about KJ tomorrow, and she could tell Milt Fullerton; it wouldn’t be worth the grief to hide anything else from her. Yet as Gabe walked back to his studio cottage, he wondered whether he should also warn her about KJ’s womanizing. KJ didn’t pretend to be looking for more than a night or two of fun, but women still fell for him.

  After all the things they’d seen as SEALs, KJ was a fatalist; he believed when your number came up, that was it, and he had every intention of enjoying life in the meantime.

  For Gabe, believing in fate would mean believing in destiny. He didn’t. It wasn’t that he had any faith in humanity, but he couldn’t see some great power beyond, either. At the same time, KJ’s behavior bothered him; it was too much like using other people.

  Brief liaisons with women who shared Gabe’s views about marriage were one thing, but not with someone who still might have hopes and dreams. He’d leave it to other people to smash them. He wasn’t going to be part of it himself.

  Still, he probably didn’t need to warn Tessa; she was smart and dedicated to Poppy Gold. If anything, KJ would likely just annoy her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LANCE HAD A funny expression on his face when Jamie told him at lunch that she was going to start attending her class in Stockton again.

  “Uh, okay,” he said.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, of course not. I just... It’s nice when we can get together after work, that’s all. But I know you want to finish.”

  “I just have to go to a few more classes and write an extra term paper to make up for the time I missed. It won’t be that long.”

  He still seemed distracted, and she kissed his cheek.

  “I wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you.” Until now she’d mostly stayed quiet when he was quiet, but sometimes people had to talk.

  “Are you going away to college this fall?”

  “I’ll start taking more classes in Stockton, but I’m going to keep working at Poppy Gold. We’ll still have lots of time together, Lance, I promise. And maybe we could both take some classes.”

  Lance shifted his feet and looked even more miserable. “I’m not like you, Jamie. I should have told you before, but my grades were lousy in high school. Nobody expected a kid like me to go to college or do anything important, so it never seemed worth the trouble.”

  Jamie didn’t know what “a kid like me” meant, but she knew Lance was smart and good and could do whatever he wanted, no matter where he’d grown up.

  “Do you want to go to college?” she asked cautiously.

  “I never thought about it.”

  “Well, if it’s what you want, I think you can take classes at a junior college, even without good grades. Besides, you’re supersmart. Look at how you put the stone wall together next to the orchard. The rocks fit together and it’s really straight, even though the ground is so uneven. I couldn’t have done it for a million bucks.”

  He began to smile a little. “That didn’t take brains, just muscle.”

  “I don’t know. I’m terrible at math, but Mom says you must be really good in geometry and stuff.”

  His shoulders straightened. “Your mom said that?”

  “Yeah. I showed her and Dad the wall on Sunday morning before church. I wanted them to see how hard you worked on it and the orchard.” The clock on top of Old City Hall bonged, and she hurriedly gave Lance a kiss. “I have to go back to work. Talk to you later at the creek.”

  At the train depot, Jamie went around to the back of the building. She climbed onto the second passenger car and moved forward, talking to picnicking tourists. When the train whistle sounded, she stepped out onto the platform as if she’d just arrived from a journey. It was part of her living history act.

  Poppy Gold employees and volunteers did living history on Fridays and weekends, and it was Jamie’s favorite work assignment. She loved dressing in costumes and pretending to live in the late 1890s. The character she played was Isabelle Douglas, a real girl who’d been born in Glimmer Creek, though nobody knew what had happened to her after she ran off with a handsome gold miner headed to the Klondike.

  That is...nobody in Glimmer Creek knew. Somebody had to know, and Jamie was trying to find the answer by writing to historical societies in Alaska and checking old census records. Isabelle’s story had always seemed romantic, but lately Jamie was starting to wonder how much fun it would have been to live in a tent and crouch for hours panning gold in freezing-cold water. Chapped hands and woolen long johns didn’t sound romantic or sexy.

  The waiting room was crowded when Jamie went inside. She smiled, aware that she was the center of attention in her costume. For several minutes she wandered around talking to people, and then a man stepped up to her, gesturing toward the high ceiling.

  “You can’t tell me they had ceiling fans back in the 1800s,” he announced loudly. Clearly he wasn’t pretending to be anything except a tourist in plaid shorts. “If you’re going to have anachronisms in a historic building, it ought to be air-conditioning.”

  “Honey, it wouldn’t kill you to play along,” scolded the woman next to him.

  “I’d rather be golfing.”

  Jamie gave them both an earnest look. “Sir, some people in Glimmer Creek think it would be more modern to put those electric ceiling fans into the railroad station, but my father disagrees. He believes the ones that use water are quieter.”

  The golf enthusiast frowned. “Water?”

  Other guests had perked up their ears and were coming closer, as well.

  “Well, yes,” Jamie said, pleased. “A stream of water turns this... Oh, dear, I’m not educated about such things. Gentlemen know so much more about mechanics. It isn’t like a mill’s waterwheel, but it’s something else that turns. Do you know what it might be, sir?”

  “Gears... No, a turbine,” the man said, plainly determined to trump the ideas being thrown out by other gentlemen in the crowd around him.

  “Goodness, you’re clever,” Jamie exclaimed. She loved it when people were interested, even when she had to play dumb to get their attention. “The turbine makes the belts turn, which then spin the two blades. Papa says that all the fans in this part of the depot run off the same turbine. He owns stock in the railroad, so he should know.”

  The visitors gazed upward at the high ceiling where the fans turned lazily. They were the real, honest-to-gosh fans installed in the 1870s and were still powered by water. The system had been refurbished, of course, but the Connors were really proud of it.

  Jamie had met Lance two months ago while explaining how the ceiling fans worked, so they were extra special to her for that reason alone.

  * * *

  GABE STOOD ON one side of the depot waiting room, watching Jamie Fullerto
n chatter to the tourists. She was an excellent actress and artlessly wove a wide range of information into her spiel.

  After a while he heard the sound of clopping hooves outside, and soon an older man stepped inside the depot, dressed in the elegant garb of a Victorian gentleman.

  “So sorry I’m late, my dear,” he said, coming over and kissing her forehead.

  “I don’t mind, Papa. I’ve been talking to these nice people. They’re waiting for a train. Everyone, this is my father, Eberhard Douglas.”

  “Delighted.” “Eberhard” offered a very correct bow. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your visit to our community.”

  A murmur of assent ran through the crowd. They all appeared drawn into the moment.

  “We’ve been talking,” Jamie explained. “An opinion has been expressed that the new electric ceiling fans might be best in the depot, to keep up with modern times. After all, it is 1895. We wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re backward in Glimmer Creek.”

  “Nonsense,” her pretend father snorted. “And I certainly hope you haven’t brought up any of the suffrage tomfoolery that your aunt holds to. Women shouldn’t vote. It isn’t natural.”

  “Whatever you say, Papa.” Jamie sounded demure and obedient, but chuckles rippled through the waiting room.

  She was good. She pulled her audience right in and got them to play along. Even without saying anything overt, she made everyone believe that she harbored different opinions from her father. It was easy to picture her character sneaking off to suffrage rallies and handing out ribbons without her father’s knowledge.

  Jamie was talented, and Gabe remembered Lance’s questions about being able to support a wife if he enlisted. At their age, would they know what they were getting into, or was Lance just thinking about possibilities for the future?

  “Come along, Isabelle,” urged Jamie’s pretend father. “The stationmaster has placed your bag in my carriage, and your mother needs help. I do believe she’s invited half the town to tea.”

  Jamie said goodbye and took his arm. En masse, the crowd followed to watch as Eberhard helped her into an elegant carriage being drawn by two black horses.