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Shifting Dreams

Page 5

by Elizabeth Hunter


  Jena’s grandmother, Alma Crowe, added, “The town is struggling as it is. We can barely make our budget. The roads are all in awful shape, the school budget is shrinking, and we’re going to have to cut the library hours back to practically nothing if that grant doesn’t come through.”

  Alex started nodding halfway through. “I know. I know this seems foolish, but what Matt said is right. One of the grants that did come through was to hire more police officers. Now, we didn’t have any to begin with, but this does provide a few jobs and a more secure environment. The sheriff’s department is fine and the ones around here are very… understanding. But this is our own department. Staffed by one of our own—”

  “And a complete stranger!” Steve Quinn piped up from the back. “Who is this guy?”

  “He’s a decorated police detective. He was planning on early retirement, from what I could find out, but he agreed to a change of pace. He’s the best.”

  Jena said, “If he’s the best, and he’s an outsider, how the heck do you think we’re going to keep him in the dark about… everything? We’re all pretty good about hiding—even the kids—but he’s going to be living here. And he’s a detective. That’s not a good combination from where I’m sitting.”

  A low hum of agreement started up at her words and she could tell Alex was annoyed, but she wasn’t going to hold her tongue, not when it came to her kids’ safety. And, as far as she was concerned, that’s what it boiled down to. She’d come back to the Springs so her kids wouldn’t have to hide who or what they were. It was the safe place. The only safe place. And Alex had just invited an outsider to live there.

  Allie said, “This isn’t like when someone gets married away and brings back a husband or wife, Alex. Outsiders that marry in are family. They already know about us, and we trust them. This guy has no connection to any of us. He has no reason to keep our secrets.”

  “And he’s not some drunk at The Cave who I can pass off to the sheriffs and convince them that he drank too much,” Ollie added. “This guy’s a cop. If he says something’s up, they’re going to believe him.”

  Jena could tell Alex was annoyed with them, but it was too damn bad. She and Ollie, Ted, Allie, and Alex were some of the oldest cousins in their generation. If nothing tragic happened, some or all of them would be sitting in the elders’ seats where their grandparents sat now. It was their job to watch out for the town, and Jena couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed that Alex hadn’t talked this over with them before he did it.

  “The police chief has to happen!” Jena could see Alex’s eyes start a faint golden glow and she knew he was angry. “We have to have an outsider here. Someone who can be neutral and settle things. Every single person in this town has loyalty to a clan that’s above our loyalty to the town. That’s perfectly natural, but we need someone like Caleb Gilbert around, and if that means we all have to be a little more careful, then that’s what we’re going to do.”

  “But why?” Ted finally spoke. “What are you not telling us, Alex? What’s going on?”

  A calculating glint came to Alex McCann’s eye. “I have an idea. One that might just save this town, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

  Jena’s mouth was hanging open. Flies could have made it their home. Set down rugs, hung curtains, and everything.

  Ted was the first to speak after Alex’s bombshell. “You want to build a what?”

  “A hotel. Really more like a resort.”

  “A resort?”

  “Very exclusive. Very expensive. Cambio Springs has seven of the most unusual natural springs—”

  “They define unusual, Alex,” someone said from the back of the church. “We’re can’t let outsiders near the fresh spring.”

  “I’m not talking about the fresh spring. Of course we’re not talking about that one. I’m talking about the other hot springs. The caves. The mud alone—people pay boatloads of money to go to these spas that surround hot springs for their health benefits. Our springs are no different. The water has been tested safe. We all use them. What I’m proposing is to build a small, very exclusive, hotel and spa that will take advantage of what we have here already. We can do spa treatments, but also offer hikes and classes. Art classes. Yoga. All that stuff. A hotel and spa like that will create jobs. Jobs we desperately need.”

  “So we’re going to have tourists running all over town all the time? Do we really want that to happen?”

  Alex was nodding. “I know. I know. But depending on how things work out, we may only be open part of the year. We’ll see.”

  “Which part?” Ollie grunted.

  “Winter. Palm Springs is a tourist trap. People want something new. A quiet place. A destination that’s not too far from L.A. and Vegas, but just far enough. I’m talking about creating something very unique and very private. Where people—people with a lot of money—are going to be willing to pay big bucks for a few nights or a few weeks. I know this can work.”

  Allie’s dad, Scott Smith, was an outsider who had married a McCann years ago. Allie’s mom had died when she was young, but Scott remained, raising his small brood of canine shapeshifters among his wife’s people and becoming a fixture in the community where he ran the farm supply store. “Alex,” he said, “that’s all well and good, but this is a farming town. We don’t know anything about running hotels. What you’re talking about would take loads of experienced employees.”

  Alex nodded at Scott. “Exactly. Employees. Let me ask you, how many of you have lost jobs since the base closed?”

  No one raised a hand. No one wanted to admit the shame of being unemployed, but they didn’t have to. A heavy silence fell over the room.

  “This town has to change. We have to be open to this. What else do we have?” Alex looked around and Jena could see the fierce concern in his eyes. Say what you wanted about Alex McCann, but he loved Cambio Springs. “We have to do this, or the town is going to die. Farming can only expand so much. The Cave brings in outside dollars, but that’s only one business. The monthly market is great, but it’s been drawing fewer and fewer people every year.” He took a deep breath. “We depended on the base for most of our jobs, and it’s gone. It’s not coming back. This hotel… I know there are dangers, but we need this.”

  The church fell silent. Jena looked around. She could see the people were considering Alex’s arguments. She was, too.

  Finally, Ollie spoke again. “Who’s paying for all this? Something like this would take a lot of money, Alex.”

  “I am,” Alex said.

  “And if it fails?”

  “Then I’m out a whole hell of a lot of money. But at least I’ll have tried.”

  Jena and the rest of the town could see the grim resolve on Alex’s face.

  She asked, “How exclusive?”

  “We’ll get big enough so the town has enough, then no more. I promise. I don’t want this to become a tourist town. We’ll have one resort. One season. That keeps it exclusive enough to charge the big bucks and still retain the allure. I’ll be marketing it to the Southern California crowd. Entertainment people. Music people.” Alex nodded toward Ollie. “You can help with that one, don’t lie.”

  Ollie shrugged as if he didn’t have signed pictures of music royalty hanging next to the men’s bathroom door.

  Ted asked, “How many jobs are we talking about here?”

  “Initially, there’s the construction. That’s going to take a while. Other people who want to work at the spa or hotel will have time to get training. Internships. Stuff like that. Matt says there are grants for that kind of thing available for those who don’t have the money. They can go to schools in Indio, Barstow, Palm Desert. There will be options.”

  Matt finally stepped forward, relieved to be back in the spotlight. “There already are. And once I can show that some meaningful business is coming into town, I can apply for grants to revitalize our downtown area. Rich people like to shop. That means boutiques and cafes.”

  “A
nd restaurants.” Alex caught Jena’s eye. “I want at least one very nice restaurant at the spa, and I know exactly the person to be the chef.”

  Jena tried to stay pragmatic, but a flutter of excitement leapt in her belly. A restaurant? A real one?

  “Restaurants, shops, hosts for the hotel, spa personnel, maids, janitors, gardeners, security, maintenance on the hot springs and the facilities. Wilderness tours and hikes. I’m talking about the whole desert, clean air, red canyons, and open skies experience, guys. This is not going to be something that only benefits a few. I wouldn’t invest this much money unless I thought it was going to change the town for the better. Ted, you’d be able to expand the clinic. Make it a real medical center. That will create jobs, too. Nurses. Support staff.”

  Lena Vasquez spoke from her seat in the front row. “This is still a very dangerous thing. This will change the town in ways we can’t foresee.”

  Alex nodded. “I know it will. But, Lena, how many children do you see coming into your kindergarten class come August?” Alex looked around the room. “Hm? More and more young people are going away for school or work, and they’re not coming back because there’s nothing here. More and more people are having to raise their children among strangers. In places where they’d be considered freaks.” He slowly shook his head. “Not if I can help it. This town needs to stay alive. And if we have the resources to do it, then we need to, even if there are costs.”

  Another, more thoughtful silence fell over the church.

  “It’s true,” Lena finally said. She was the principal of the small school in town. The school that was slowly shrinking. “I know of seven young families in our clan alone that want to come back, but can’t because there is no work here.”

  Alex nodded. Steve Quinn said, “If this would create work… well, even if things change, we’d have some kind of control over it, right, Alex? Instead of people having to live away.”

  “That’s what I’m aiming for.”

  Jena said, “It’ll be hardest on the kids. They’re going to have to be more careful. And things like shifting out in public”—she glared at Old Quinn where he sat at the council table—“will have to stop. There’s no way we’re going to be able to hide if people keep doing stuff like that. They’ll think we’re putting drugs in the water.”

  A voice said from the back, “Hey, that might draw an entirely different crowd!”

  Old Quinn just shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “I guess we can all live with a few changes if it means a better town for everyone. I don’t relish the idea of anyone in my clan not feeling like they can call this place home.”

  “Where you gonna build it?” Scott Smith asked.

  “The land closest to the hot springs is my parents’ property and Joe Quinn’s. But I’ll pay everyone fairly for their portion.” Old Quinn sat up a bit straighter when he heard that and a general murmur of agreement came from the back corner of the room where his clan sat. “And since the springs themselves are community property, I plan on paying the town a yearly percentage for the use of them. That’s going to allow the council to do things like repair the roads, fix up the school, open the library more hours, stuff like that.”

  “And what if outsiders catch wind of this? What if some come looking to build more?” Allie asked.

  Robert McCann, Alex’s father, spoke up from his seat at the Elders’ table. “This council approves all building permits in Cambio Springs. Always has. Always will. That’s not gonna change. No one builds here without our permission.”

  Lowell’s Grandfather John sat next to Robert. He said, “And Willow’s the only water witch who can find wells around here. If Willow doesn’t cooperate, no one’s going to be able to build outside the city limits, either.”

  Willow McCann, Alex’s cousin, nodded from her perch in the front corner of the room. She was a quiet woman, an artist who matched her name and sent her work out to galleries all over the Southwest. Willow McCann was also the lone water witch in the Springs. Each generation of McCanns bred one witch who could sniff out water with pinpoint accuracy when no other, more modern methods, seemed to work. Grandpa John was right. If Willow didn’t cooperate when someone needed a well, one wasn’t going to be dug.

  “Okay then.” Alex let out a long breath. “I’m sure there are other questions we didn’t get to. Detail-type stuff. Things are going to come up and we’ll deal with them, but does everyone here feel like they have enough information for an initial vote to get the ball rolling?” He looked around the room, then turned to the Elders’ table. “Elders, do you have any other questions for me? Will you vote to allow me the permits to clear the land for a hotel and spa here in Cambio Springs?”

  One by one, the elders looked at each other, all of them either shrugging or nodding their heads, indicating they were ready for a vote. Jena took a deep breath. She could feel Ted and Allie on either side of her, both tense and waiting.

  Robert McCann, steel-haired and handsome, even in his late sixties, spoke first. “Robert McCann, descended of Robert McCann, first of the wolves, votes yes on this matter.”

  His great-uncle sat next to him. Lowell’s grandfather, white-haired and over one hundred and ten years old, was still unbent by age. “John McCann, grandson of Andrew McCann, second of the wolves, votes yes on this matter.”

  Old Joe Quinn—who still didn’t have his favorite hat—said, “Joseph Quinn, descended of Rory Quinn, first and only snake, votes yes on this matter.”

  Ben Campbell, Ollie’s grandfather, spoke next. “Benjamin Campbell, descended of William Allen, first and only bear, abstains from voting on this matter.” A quiet murmur filled the room, and Ben continued, “Understand this. I cannot bring myself to approve of anything that will invite outsiders into the Springs. The Allens and the Campbells have guarded the gates to this town for over one hundred years, but we cannot guard against outsiders that you invite in. At the same time, I will not stand in the way of progress others feel is necessary. We are a small clan and do not have as many to take care of. I understand both sides of the argument, so at this time, I will abstain.”

  The murmur died down and Jena glanced over at Ollie. She could tell he wasn’t pleased, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. Did he wish his grandfather had voted no, outright? If he had, the whole vote would have stopped. Tension began to build in the room. The cats were next, and the cat clans defined unpredictable. Would they defy the wolves out of spite? Or would they consider this plan as much Matt’s as Alex’s and vote for it?

  In the front of the room, Gabe Vasquez, Ted’s grandfather said in his slight accent, “Gabriel Vasquez, descended of Gabriel Vasquez, second of the cats, votes yes in this matter.”

  Paula Leon spoke next. “Paula Leon, descended of Reina Vasquez de Leon, first of the cats, gladly votes yes in this matter.”

  Well, that answered that. For the cats, loyalty to the mayor and their clan trumped natural suspicion of outsiders.

  The last to speak was Jena’s grandmother, Alma. A tiny woman, her voice still carried over the church. “This isn’t an easy vote. I think…” Her voice dropped. “I think we need more time to think about this.” Jena could hear the collected gasp around the room. This was unexpected. Her grandmother was usually one of the most progressive on the council. “Alma Crowe, descended of Thomas Crowe, first and only in flight, votes no on this matter.”

  Chapter Six

  It had been a week and a half of cleaning, hauling, and more cleaning, but Caleb looked around the small police station with pride. It was rough, but efficient. Two desks sat in opposite corners of the room, with a divider of bookcases sectioning off a portion of the room for the “Chief’s office.” Jeremy’s desk sat with a good view of the parking lot and a small receptionist’s desk sat near the door. They still hadn’t hired an actual receptionist, but they had the budget for someone and Jeremy claimed he “knew someone” who would be good.

  He had quickly learned that whatever he might need, Deputy Jeremy McC
ann was pretty sure to “know someone” who could get it. And chances were good that it was a relative.

  Caleb had been sleeping on a cot in one of the back cells—which really did stay the coolest throughout the day—and showering over at Jeremy’s when he got the chance. But Jeremy’s wife was officially moving in the next day and Caleb had taken enough borrowed showers.

  “Jeremy?” he called out from behind a bookcase where he was examining some old mining maps of the area.

  “Yeah, Chief?”

  “I need a place to live.”

  He heard the young man chuckle. “You mean you don’t want to use Brenda’s soap when she moves in? It’s real pretty. You’ll smell fresh as a rose.”

  Caleb smothered a smile. “Unless you want your first investigation to be the inside an outhouse, you’re gonna ‘know someone’ with a place to rent. Doesn’t have to be big. In fact, I prefer small. But I want it in town.”

  Jeremy poked his head around the bookcases. “How small?”

  “It can be a glorified tent, for all I care, as long as it has plumbing. And air-conditioning.”

  Wait for it…

  “Yeah.” Jeremy sounded amused. “I definitely know someone.”

  Caleb had put off visiting the Blackbird Diner ever since he heard who owned it. It wasn’t an easy temptation to resist, but he was still in preliminary investigations about Jena Crowe and didn’t want to jump the gun. He’d gathered a short collection of facts about the attractive brunette, none of which made her any less appealing.

  She was a trained chef—had studied in Seattle, in fact—but ran a diner her family owned. She was thirty-one and had been widowed for three years. Had two boys—Caleb figured she must have had the oldest almost right out of high school—who attended the elementary school in town and were McCanns. In fact, most of the information he’d mined was from Jeremy who was a second or third or who-knows-what kind of cousin to Jena’s late husband, who sounded like he’d been a decent guy.

 

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