Читать книгу Undercover In Glimmer Creek - Julianna Morris - Страница 12
ОглавлениеON THURSDAY GABE went to the fitness center before dawn as he had the previous two mornings. He always started his day with exercise, but he had also discovered it was a good time to meet other Poppy Gold employees.
While he didn’t really need to question them—just listen as they chatted and teased each other—he was drawn into their conversations, regardless. It was the same with the employee lunchroom. They were a gregarious group.
“I heard you just got a new car,” he commented to Cheryl Clark as they ran side by side on the treadmills. Poppy Gold employees didn’t gossip about the guests, but they made up for it talking about each other. It was a great source of information.
“Yeah, a cherry-red Mercedes,” Cheryl said breathlessly. “Picked it up a few weeks ago. Brand-new. A real beauty.”
Gabe nearly missed a step. A Mercedes was an expensive vehicle for a low-level housekeeper, and he’d heard she was dating a guy who worked at the local drugstore—unlikely to have any wealth to share with her.
“Mercedes are nice cars,” he said. “I’ll have to take a look for it in the employee parking area.”
“That baby purrs like a kitten. I love it.” She switched to a cool-off pace. “That ass, Nate, thinks it’s stupid. He says I should have bought a truck like him, but I wanted something that says luxury. Besides, what do I need a truck for?”
Nate Dixon worked in the Poppy Gold maintenance division and had just bought a new, fully loaded truck. He’d proudly shown it off in the employee parking lot two days ago during lunch. Then he’d sniggered about Cheryl’s “snooty” choice. Before Gabe could ask what kind of car she’d chosen, one of the other employees had mentioned Nate boasting about paying off the house he’d bought a couple of years before.
The conversation had given Gabe two potential suspects—Poppy Gold employees spending well beyond their apparent income. He was still checking them out. There was nothing to explain their spending on the internet, but the local newspaper had only a limited online presence. He’d have to see if there were back issues at the library.
On the other hand, would Cheryl or Nate boast about their acquisitions if they had anything to hide?
Probably.
He’d dealt with a wide range of people over the years—dictators, spies, technology thieves—anything the navy chose to call on a SEAL to handle. His joint operations with the CIA had given him an even broader scope of experience. And one of the things he’d learned was that people liked to show off, whether it was their money, knowledge or power.
* * *
BY FRIDAY MORNING Lance had finished tilling a section of the ground that would be used for the new apple orchard, and he watched carefully as Mr. Connor showed him how to plant the saplings. He was grateful to Poppy Gold for hiring him and didn’t want to mess up, though the way they did things seemed weird. Why grow apples when you could just buy them at a grocery store?
“I’ve never heard of red astrachans,” he said.
Mr. Connor smiled. “Most people haven’t. They’re an heirloom apple. My grandmother grew up on a farm and loved both the red and white varieties. She always claimed they made the best pies. I told Tessa how good they’re supposed to be, so she suggested planting them at Poppy Gold.”
“You’ve never tasted one?”
“Afraid not. By the time I came along, my great-grandparents’ orchard had become a parking lot for a shopping center.” Mr. Connor handed him the shovel. “Think you can take it from here?”
“No problem,” Lance assured him.
Planting trees should be a piece of cake compared with cutting brush and digging out rocks. He’d never seen so many rocks, and the roots were even tougher to get out. Not that he minded. Doing all that cutting and digging sort of cleared his head.
He was especially proud of the wall he’d built with the rocks. Liam had mentioned they expected to build walls with the extra rocks and had been pleased when Lance had started the job without even being told.
It was weird living in a dinky joint like Glimmer Creek, though. He wasn’t even sure why he’d stopped there; he’d just wanted to get away from all the crap in Sacramento. If anything, he would have expected people in such a small town to be even snottier than in the city, figuring they wouldn’t like outsiders, but a lot of them were nice. Of course, a few still looked at him funny, especially when they saw his bike.
Jamie’s mom was a doctor and didn’t seem too sure of him, either—probably because a guy who dug out rocks wasn’t that impressive. But he wasn’t going to dig holes and cut brush forever; he’d promised Jamie that he would take care of her, and it was exactly what he planned to do.
Now he just had to figure out how.
Lance remembered the story about an old cow patty turning out to be gold and decided Jamie was right; kicking cow droppings probably wasn’t going to make him rich.
He’d never known anyone like her. The girls in high school had giggled all the time and teased him about being too quiet. But Jamie didn’t mind when he wanted to be quiet; they would just hold hands and take a walk or something.
Not that he’d dated many girls in school. He’d found out that most parents didn’t approve of their daughter going out with a foster kid, especially once they heard his dad was in prison. It was as if they thought you were damaged if you didn’t have a regular family. The school counselor had claimed he was exaggerating, but Lance didn’t think so. He’d never forgotten a story he’d read about how “amazing” it was that some rich guy had succeeded, despite growing up in foster homes. He may not have gotten good grades in school, but he wasn’t stupid.
Mr. Connor left and Lance began measuring out the proper distance to put between the trees, marking each spot before digging the second hole. Planting each tree took a while, and he was sweating by the time he finished planting the fourth red astrachan.
Just fourteen more to go, he thought, wiping his forehead. It might be easier to dig big holes than pull out rocks, but it was still hard work. For a moment he felt kind of dizzy, so he gulped down some water. Mr. Connor kept telling him to drink enough fluids, especially on a warm day, and would put extra sports drinks in his pack, just to be sure.
Lance put the bottle away and watered the fourth tree. Then he picked up the shovel and began digging a hole for the next one.
* * *
TESSA HURRIED OVER to Old City Hall midmorning. She was playing catch-up on her work as usual, but she wanted to greet the leader of the Talmadge Guild Association before the first meeting. The guild was now on its third visit, and while they could be fussy about their arrangements, they were nice people.
“Hi, Charlotte,” she called, spotting the chairwoman getting out of the courtesy shuttle they provided from the perimeter parking areas.
Charlotte Angstrom turned and smiled. “Good morning, Tessa. Did you orchestrate this lovely weather for us?”
Tessa grinned. “Absolutely. The ballroom is arranged for the banquet tonight and the concert hall for this afternoon’s meet and greet. Do you need any help getting set up?”
“I’d be happy to assist.” The unexpected sound of Gabe’s deep voice made Tessa jump, and she realized he’d come around the corner of Old City Hall, carrying a wide push broom.
Charlotte beamed. “How nice of you to offer. I’m Charlotte Angstrom,” she said.
“Gabe McKinley.”
“Gabe is a new employee,” Tessa explained. “He’s always eager to help where needed.”
In the four days since Gabe had started with Poppy Gold, he’d been very keen to volunteer for anything that needed doing.
“Excellent,” Charlotte said briskly. “I’m a tired old lady, so it’s wonderful to have a pair of willing hands. Join me upstairs.” She turned and strode up the steps of Old City Hall like a general going to war.
“Don’t buy that ‘tired old lady’ bit,” Tessa advised Gabe. “Charlotte is the founder of Angel Bite Cookies. She has more drive than both of us put together.”
“Is that a big company?”
“They’re huge. Angel Bites went from a business started in her kitchen to one of the most popular gourmet cookie-makers in North America.”
“Now she leads a crafters’ association?”
“Her son convinced her to retire, so she got involved in several organizations. But she still takes time to develop new recipes for the company. You should taste her Little Devils. They debuted last year and are absolutely divine.”
“Little Devils from a company called Angel Bites?”
“Mmm, yes. They’re a dark chocolate cookie with a hint of hot chili pepper. Incredible.”
Amazingly, a smile lurked in Gabe’s eyes. “I’ll take your word for it. I’d better go assist Ms. Angstrom before I get court-martialed. She reminds me of a commanding officer I once had—he was easy to get along with, provided everything got done his way.”
Tessa had to laugh. Charlotte could be a challenge.
Gabe went inside Old City Hall, and Tessa started her final review of the arrangements. The guild offered classes on making American patchwork quilts at the annual conference. This year the reservations had skyrocketed, and they were using all the meeting spaces available at Poppy Gold.
The other participants had begun arriving by the time Tessa finished. She was racing from the far side of Poppy Gold toward the concert hall when Gabe made another one of his unexpected appearances.
“Um, hi,” Tessa said, her pulse jumping with surprise. For a tall, strong guy, he could move awfully fast.
“Hi. Liam is concerned that you might not have eaten.”
Tessa looked at her watch and saw it was after one o’clock. Her dad often had someone track her down to see if she’d eaten lunch, but he usually sent a member of the family.
“Tell him I’ll get something after I stop in at the guild meet and greet.”
Gabe handed her a covered cup and a straw. “He figured as much, so he made something. I volunteered to bring it over since I was coming this way to do cleanup on the parking areas.”
Resigned, she unwrapped the straw and stuck it in the cup. It held one of Liam’s special concoctions—blended frozen fruit, yogurt and protein powder. As a teen she’d been very active, hating to stop for meals, so he’d begun making smoothies. Her dad had always been a mother hen, and since it gave him something productive to think about, she didn’t object to him fussing at her now.
The biggest problem was when he hinted about grandchildren and suggested she start dating again. She wasn’t opposed to the idea, even with her concerns about the risks of falling in love; she just didn’t have time. Perhaps in a year or two when things had settled down at Poppy Gold.
Of course, her Glimmer Creek relatives were also in full matchmaking mode. Just a few weeks earlier she’d been invited to dinner at her aunt Polly’s house, only to discover Polly had invited the high school principal as well...who just happened to be single. He was a nice guy and had called a couple of times since, but Tessa wasn’t interested. No sparks.
She started walking toward the concert hall again, and Gabe fell into step next to her. It wasn’t uncommon to have employees try to score points with her, but he didn’t seem the type.
In spite of her reservations and the lack of information she’d been able to find about him, she couldn’t deny that he worked hard. He also seemed to relate well to her father; the previous evening she’d found them in Maintenance, talking away as they poked through the innards of the 1928 pickup. It was Pop’s favorite vehicle, and he didn’t let just anyone touch it. Then she’d heard they’d gone to dinner together. She would have teased her father about having a bromance, but she didn’t think he’d understand.
“Ms. Angstrom mentioned you were business associates in San Francisco before she retired,” Gabe commented.
Tessa shrugged. “I made a lot of contacts working for my grandfather. In college, too.”
“Those contacts must be helpful now that you’re running Poppy Gold. Do many of them book conferences here?”
“Some. We’ve had corporate retreats, weddings, class reunions, all sorts of stuff. My folks began promoting Poppy Gold as a conference center three years ago, so some of our clients have been coming here since then.”
Tessa gulped down the last mouthful of the smoothie and shivered, despite the warm air. She tossed the cup in a trash can near the entrance of the concert hall.
“I’ve got work to do, and you mentioned needing to work on the parking lots, so you’d better get going,” she said firmly.
* * *
BEFORE GABE COULD LEAVE, he felt a vibration under his feet.
A truck?
He looked around, expecting to see the antique truck that Liam favored. For the most part Poppy Gold restricted modern vehicles in the old town area, though they used electric golf carts when needed.
The vibration grew more pronounced, and he heard a faint roaring sound.
Visitors began running through the doors of the concert hall crying, “Earthquake!”
Without batting an eye, Tessa directed everyone to the old town square park across the street, at the same time urging them to watch their step and remain calm. When the rush had ended, she got on the radio.
“Central dispatch, this is Tessa. I’m with Gabe McKinley. We’re fine. Let’s follow Response Plan C. Gabe and I will team up and start checking buildings, beginning with the concert hall, going counterclockwise. Let my father know where Gabe will be for a while.”
“Okay, Tessa. I’ll take the lead from Old City Hall.”
“Thanks, Aunt Polly.”
Gabe lifted an eyebrow. Response Plan C had been discussed in the operations handbook and was far more extensive than such a minor event warranted. It included accounting for employees and making a visual sweep of every space in Poppy Gold. There were no preassigned teams, so emergency coordinators called on whoever was available. The goal of the plan was to continue services with as little disruption as possible while checking to ensure both buildings and guests were all right.
“Damage seems unlikely,” he said to Tessa. “The quake was minor.”
“I know, and all the buildings were reinforced a few years ago, but I want to do a quick check, anyway. Besides...” Tessa continued, dropping her voice, “a number of the conference attendees are older. If any of them have health problems, there’s no telling how they’ll react, particularly if they’ve never been in an earthquake. What’s minor to us may not be minor to them.”
“I understand.”
They went inside the concert hall and inspected the main room, restrooms, storage areas and kitchen, ensuring no one was there who might have been injured in the rush to exit the building.
“The concert hall is okay,” Tessa reported to her aunt on the radio.
“Got it, Tessa.”
Before continuing to the next building, they went out to speak with the guests in the small park, only to have Charlotte Angstrom inform them that she had everything in hand. She had her expert quilters giving impromptu lectures on the history of American patchwork to relax everybody. In the meantime she was marking names on her roster to account for everyone who’d registered.
Tessa nodded. “Thanks, Charlotte. It’s fine to go back inside now.”
“Heavens, I know that. I’ve never seen so much drama in my life—one of our guild members from the East Coast yelled for everybody to run outside, and it practically started a stampede. I wouldn’t even get out of bed for a quake this small.”
“I can’t imagine an earthquake daring to wake you up,” Tessa teased.
The older woman chuckled and marched off with her clipboard.
“That’s a very impressive lady,” Gabe murmured.
“She certainly is. I’ve always—”
“Ms. Connor, where’s Jamie? I can’t find her,” interrupted an anxious voice.
“Take it easy, Lance, Jamie is fine.” Tessa patted the young man’s arm. “I heard her status reported over the radio. She was giving a tour to a school group and has taken them to the general store for lemonade.”
The alarm on Lance Beckley’s face began to fade, and his breathing slowed. “Oh.” He looked at Gabe. “I wasn’t scared, except for Jamie. Honest.”
Gabe didn’t know why the kid had wanted to make the assertion to him—they’d spoken only a few times—but he inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“Lance, I want you to report to Polly Murphy,” Tessa said. “She’s coordinating in Old City Hall and will let you know if there’s something you need to do.”
“Okay.”
Lance left, and they headed first to the historic church, then to the Gold Rail Hotel. Most of the occupants had gone to the guild’s meet and greet, though a few remained in the downstairs parlor—primarily husbands who’d already called their wives to check on them and had returned to relaxing with their newspapers. While focused on the task at hand, Gabe also noted that Tessa carried a master key, giving her access to all rooms in the historic building.
From there they went to the Glimmer Creek Train Depot. It was quiet, with historic re-creations and discreet exhibits about early California railroad history on the ground level.
“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.
