Undercover in Glimmer Creek

by Julianna Morris

  * * *

  JAMIE FELT FUNNY as she woke up, comfortable, just not as if she was in bed.

  Then all at once she realized the sun had risen and she’d fallen asleep on the porch swing with Lance.

  She looked up and saw her mother. Embarrassment went through her, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. She and Lance had barely kissed, much less done anything more than that. And what if they had? She was eighteen, not fifteen.

  Straightening, she eased off the swing. Her chin lifted as she gazed into her mom’s face. She didn’t want to be defiant, but she wasn’t a child any longer.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  “Good morning. I’ll have breakfast ready in a few minutes,” her mother whispered back. “Doesn’t Lance usually go to work on the orchard by six because of the heat?”

  “Yes.”

  As Emma Fullerton went back inside, Jamie shook Lance’s shoulder. She doubted he’d want to eat with her parents, but it would be nice if he did.

  “Wh-what?” Lance mumbled, yawning widely.

  “We fell asleep.”

  He bolted to his feet as if stung by a bee. He looked around wildly. “Your folks... I’d better get out of here.”

  “Mom says breakfast is nearly ready.”

  “She saw us?”

  Jamie shrugged. “She was worried you’d oversleep. Come on, you should eat before going to work, and there isn’t time to go back to your studio.”

  It was up to him. She didn’t say anything else, just turned and went inside. Paper crinkled in her pocket, and she took out the small bag Lance had given her the night before. She shook out the little charm. It was darling, and she laughed about thinking it felt like a cow patty.

  She walked into the kitchen and dropped a kiss on her father’s forehead. He was reading a book by C. S. Lewis. “Prince Caspian? Cool, Dad.”

  “I’ve always enjoyed the Narnia Chronicles, and I like them much better than the Twilight series you made me read,” he grumbled.

  “You’re the one who says a youth pastor should know what kids are reading and seeing at the movies,” Jamie reminded him. “You liked Divergent and the new Star Trek films, even the guy playing Mr. Spock.”

  His eyes twinkled at her. “I don’t have a problem with the Twilight stuff—I’m just not into vampires.”

  “Me, either. Anything I can do to help, Mom?” she asked brightly.

  “Thanks, but I’m almost done. Lance is eating with us, isn’t he?”

  “I’m here, Mrs. Fullerton,” Lance said from the doorway, sounding awkward. “Uh, sorry, I mean Dr. Fullerton.”

  Jamie’s heart thumped painfully. He was so uncomfortable with people. With her, too, in the beginning. She didn’t believe women had to wait for guys to ask them out, which was a good thing because it might have taken Lance forever to do it himself. Of course, she wondered sometimes if he’d gone out with her the first time because he didn’t know how to say no. But it was okay. Now he was talking about everything they’d do in the future.

  “Please call me Emma,” her mother urged him. “Have a seat, Lance. Do you drink coffee?”

  “Yes, ma...uh, yes.”

  Clearly, calling his girlfriend’s mother by her first name was more than he could handle. The breakfast Mom had cooked was fancier than usual, and Jamie hoped it was because she wanted to be nice to Lance. He was very polite, taking a serving of everything, even a bowl of oatmeal, which she knew he hated. He added brown sugar and cream before resolutely stuffing a spoonful into his mouth.

  A smile broke out on his face. “Wow, this doesn’t taste like glue.” He promptly turned red. “Uh, sorry.”

  Dad chuckled. “You’ve been a victim of vicious propaganda, young man. Everyone seems to think oatmeal should be creamy, but we like steel-cut oats, barely cooked so we have something to chew. Emma knows how to do it right.”

  “So do you, Daniel,” Mom said pointedly. “Cooking isn’t solely a woman’s province.”

  “I’d cook if you let me near the stove.”

  “Maybe I would if you hadn’t burned up two of my favorite pots after we got married. How you could destroy quality stainless steel cookware is beyond me.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  After breakfast Lance waited while Jamie changed into her costume. It was too early for her to start work, but she wanted to walk to Poppy Gold with him.

  Lance was quiet for several blocks, and then he glanced at her. “Don’t you hate it when your folks argue like that?”

  Jamie blinked. “Argue?”

  “That stuff about your dad burning up pots and all.”

  She grinned. “That was a joke. Mom had a superwoman complex when they got married...as if she could go to medical school, have babies and still do all the cooking and cleaning. It took a while to sort everything out, but now they have fun teasing each other.”

  “Your mom doesn’t do all the cooking?”

  “Nah. They both work, so Mom usually handles breakfast, while Dad makes dinner. I take turns, too. But since Mom loves to bake, she does all the bread and pies and junk, though she doesn’t make as much now that my two brothers have gone to college.”

  “I never knew anybody who could make bread.”

  Lance didn’t say anything else, and Jamie wished she knew what he was thinking. She knew tons of people who baked bread; one of her cousins had even opened a sweet shop and was catering all the food for Poppy Gold.

  Jamie thought about it. Perhaps she ought to learn how to bake, but not just to please her boyfriend. As for college... Mom and Dad wanted her to start in the fall, but she wasn’t so sure. One of her brothers was already in medical school, and the other wanted to be a veterinarian. But she didn’t know what she wanted to do, and right now being with Lance seemed the most important thing of all.

  Still, while she lived with her parents, she was an adult now. She had a job, and when she said she’d do something, she’d darned well better do it. The niggling guilt she’d been feeling about her college class got even stronger.

  She kissed Lance goodbye, then got out her phone and pulled up the number for her professor’s office down in Stockton. Studying history was dull compared with the excitement of falling in love, but she’d started the class and it wasn’t right to keep blowing it off.

  Jamie pulled in a deep breath when the recorded voice told her to leave a message. “Hello, Professor Wendell, this is Jamie Fullerton. I’m a student in your Early California History night course. I know I haven’t been in class lately, but I’m calling to see if there’s any way I can make it up. I’m willing to do extra work or whatever it takes.”

  She gave her phone number and disconnected.

  It would mean missing time with Lance to attend classes and study and write papers, but she’d feel better if she finished the course.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GABE HAD VOLUNTEERED for lawn and garden maintenance on the Victorians around the Tofton House, and he kept a close watch the next morning.

  Apparently a group of ghost hunters was staying in the Mill Race Cottage across the street. They looked normal, but he questioned the sanity of anyone who believed in spirits. Nevertheless, the only time he saw them was when Sarah’s Sweet Treats and Catering delivered breakfast.

  Later he saw Tessa drive up in one of Poppy Gold’s electric carts, rather than walking as usual. Obviously she was still suffering from her fall, and he watched as she limped first to the Tofton House and then to the Mill Race Cottage.

  He was waiting by the cart when she returned from talking to the ghost hunters.

  “Did the Ghostbusters find anything interesting?” he asked.

  “Go ask them yourself.”

  “I prefer staying away from crazy people.”

  T
essa shook her head as she got into the cart. “Opinion polls suggest that thirty to fifty percent of the people in the United States believe in ghosts. They can’t all be crazy.”

  “Maybe, though it isn’t reassuring to hear about presidents having séances in the White House. They have too much power to be listening to unseen spirits.”

  “I don’t think that’s happened for a while.”

  “I’ve heard that Abraham Lincoln had séances during the Civil War.”

  Tessa jerked and a curious expression flitted across her face. “Actually, it was Lincoln’s wife who hosted the séances after one of their sons died of typhoid. I believe Abraham attended at least one to make Mary Todd happy, only to discover it was a political liability.”

  “Yup. That much more proof that wives just get men in trouble.”

  “And that comment is more proof that you’re a cynic,” she said crisply. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we both have to things to do.”

  An unaccustomed grin split Gabe’s face as she drove away.

  * * *

  TESSA FUMED AS she parked the cart behind the train depot. Dealing with Gabe McKinley seemed to remove all of her verbal sensors. He didn’t guard his tongue, either, but that was no excuse. On the other hand, maybe she should be pleased that he was confident their tense exchanges wouldn’t affect his job with her father.

  Yet Tessa frowned as she went up the rear stairs to her office. Gabe’s remark about Lincoln was curious. She’d had a number of discussions with Rob McKinley about Abraham Lincoln. They both admired the martyred president, and she’d even put a copy of her favorite Lincoln biography in one of his courtesy welcome baskets.

  Still, since Abraham Lincoln was one of the most admired men in American history, it wasn’t totally bizarre that his name would come up in conversation.

  * * *

  AFTER SIGNING OUT for the day, Gabe walked nonchalantly toward the historic shopping street. There were various stores, all offering products with a Victorian flair, and a large number of people were still out shopping. It had seemed a likely place to engineer a “casual” encounter with his brother.

  He looked into various store windows and finally stopped in front of the Glimmer Creek Mercantile as planned. Bolts of fabric were displayed along with other artifacts, some of which looked quite old, including a kerosene lamp. O’Connor Dry Goods was stenciled on a burlap sack and several other items.

  “Do you think there was a store like this in 1849?” asked a voice.

  Gabe cast a sideways look at his brother. “I understand the O’Connors largely sold their supplies from the back of a wagon, but Glimmer Creek was their home base. Of course, if they had a store, it probably started out as a cramped log cabin.”

  “You could be right.”

  Gabe waited until the chattering group of tourists surrounding them had gone by. “Have you seen anything questionable?” he asked softly. “Anyone around the Tofton House who shouldn’t be there, or someone who comes at odd times?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary so far.”

  “No papers disturbed or luggage out of place?” Gabe pushed.

  They were gazing through the window and not at each other, but Gabe saw Rob’s head shake in the reflection. “Nope.”

  “We found out someone might be trying to hurt you. That’s valuable. It’s safer to know than to be surprised. I’d feel a lot better if you had an emergency and left early.”

  “Then you’ve dismissed the possibility that Tessa could have been a target?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Gabe tried to read his brother’s expression, but the image in the glass wasn’t distinct enough. “She’s popular and hasn’t fired any employees since taking over at Poppy Gold. Now that I’ve thought about it more, it also seems unlikely that anything would have followed her from San Francisco.”

  Gabe deliberately turned his back to Rob and checked his watch, then looked up and down the street as if searching for someone before facing the window display again. “Have you checked into getting a bodyguard?” he asked. “One of the men I used to command has a personal security company. He might even do the job himself. He’s tough and reliable.”

  “That means he’s an action guy. A businessman’s life is too dull to interest someone like that—he’d skip town within a week. There are no adrenaline rushes in my line of work.”

  It was the first time Gabe had heard a hint of dissatisfaction from his brother about running TIP. “Are you bored? You could get somebody else to run the company and do whatever you want.”

  “We aren’t all cut out for glorious heroism like you.”

  Images flashed through Gabe’s mind of injured and starving children in war-ravaged countries. “I’m not a hero, and there was nothing glorious about what I used to do,” he said bluntly. “Somebody has to take care of messes, so that’s what I did.”

  “I guess there’s more than one way to look at something.”

  “Yeah, and you’re deflecting. I’ll text KJ’s number to you. His company is on the East Coast, but he sends his guys all over the world.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Rob didn’t sound enthusiastic about the idea, which meant he probably wouldn’t consider a personal security guard.

  Another group of tourists came out of the mercantile, so they fell silent again, still trying to gaze at the window display with fascination.

  * * *

  “THANKS FOR THE HELP,” Ollie told Tessa. Ollie ran the general store, and Tessa was helping him carry a load of empty picnic baskets back from the train depot.

  Tessa went warm with embarrassment. “No problem.” She’d offered after seeing Gabe head across Poppy Gold and down the pedestrian shopping street. He wasn’t the type for touristy activities, and she’d gotten curious. “How are the picnic baskets doing?”

  “We sell out every day. I’ve asked Sarah’s Sweet Treats to increase our order three times already. Fried chicken is our bestseller, but the baked ham and biscuits are popular, too.”

  “That’s nice,” Tessa said absently, keeping an eye on two distinct figures ahead on the brick sidewalk—Gabe and Rob McKinley, standing next to each other in front of the mercantile.

  Ollie turned into the general store, and Tessa reluctantly followed.

  “Here you go.” She handed the collection of baskets she carried to Ollie’s wife.

  “Thanks, Tessa,” said Virginia. She would wash the cotton linings and sanitize the wicker for use the next day. Tin pails, the contents covered with red-checkered cloths, were also popular with picnickers, who were able to return either container to a variety of locations throughout Poppy Gold.

  Tessa gazed around the crowded store, noisy with the cheerful babble of tourists deciding on postcards and other souvenirs. “You’re certainly busy.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful? We’ve had tour buses stopping all day long,” Virginia explained before bustling away to help a customer.

  Ollie and Virginia were relative newcomers to Glimmer Creek, but they’d embraced the spirit of the community. Both of them were plump and cheerful, and they never failed to dress in the garb of Victorian storekeepers; Virginia even removed her long white apron and donned a bonnet whenever she went out during business hours.

  Tessa stepped out into the sunlight again and saw that Gabe and Rob were still standing in front of the Glimmer Creek Mercantile. Though they weren’t facing each other, she could swear they were talking.

  Interesting. While Gabe was taller and more strongly built, they shared a similar body type. Broad shoulders, erect posture, powerful legs in a wide stance...

  She determinedly walked over. “Hello, gentlemen. Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”

  Rob whirled around with a distinctly guilty expression. Gabe turned more slowly and gave her a calc
ulating look. “Hi, Tessa. How are you recovering so far?”

  Tessa shrugged. She was still sore and the skin around her elbow was a glorious purple, along with a few other places, but she was okay.

  “Limping some, but I’m all right.”

  “I’ve noticed you’re wearing long sleeves, despite the hot weather. I assume it’s to conceal your bruises from Liam.”

  Gabe’s perception put Tessa’s teeth on edge, maybe because it was so hard to read anything from him in return. “It also hides the elbow brace,” she explained. Aunt Emma had told her to wear a light support for a few days.

  “I see.” Gabe checked his watch. “It’s late, I’d better be going.”

  Tessa shook her head. “You can’t get away that easily. Rob, what is going on?”

  “Uh...” Robert McKinley shot a glance at Gabe, similar to the one Tessa had seen the previous day, and it confirmed her suspicions.

  “Maybe we should talk somewhere else,” Gabe suggested.

  “Maybe you should explain why you’re pretending you don’t know each other.”

  “Not here,” Gabe ordered in a low, urgent tone that didn’t brook disagreement. “I’ll talk to you later, Rob. Watch your back.”

  Robert McKinley walked away as Tessa pondered the “watch your back” warning. Gabe gestured toward the park with a sharp jerk of the head and started walking without even checking to see if she followed. She stayed put. After a few steps he turned and glared.

  She smiled sweetly as he stomped back.

  “We need privacy,” he snarled.

  “Perhaps, but I’ll choose where we get it.”

  Tessa began walking toward the more modern part of Glimmer Creek. After a moment Gabe caught up and matched her pace, frustration radiating from him. At the new city park, she stopped. They were in full view of the buildings along the street, but far enough away they could talk without being overheard.

  “Give me a break,” Gabe muttered, looking pointedly at the police station sign. “Do you honestly think I’m a threat?”