by Vicki Essex
“Your grandfather must be well-off.”
“Granddad is the owner and president of Connor Enterprises in San Francisco.”
Gabe glanced around at the thriving tourist village—even for a tourist trap, the place was appealing. The extent of preservation reminded him of Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia.
But appealing or not, it was still the most likely source of TIP’s problems. Other than Rob’s office, Poppy Gold was the only location where certain pieces of company information had been brought together, and the failed contract negotiations had always occurred shortly after a visit to the B and B facility. Rob might have suspected some of his executives were responsible, but different execs had been at the meetings each time, often from divergent areas of the company’s operations.
Hacking had also been ruled out because his brother had started keeping data on upcoming deals and contracts off-line. He’d even moved all the files onto a computer that wasn’t hooked up to the internet.
He looked back at Tessa Connor. As the manager, she was in the best position to know everything that was going on at the conference center, but whether she was an ally or an enemy was unclear. She could even be the culprit. While Rob thought highly of Tessa, it didn’t mean she was innocent.
Gabe almost snorted.
His brother’s judgment was probably clouded by Tessa’s slim figure and sparkling eyes. For that matter, Rob had a hard time believing anyone would steal from TIP in the first place, which was why it had taken him so long to acknowledge the problem. Gabe, on the other hand, didn’t have trouble believing the worst of anyone.
“Come on, I’ll show you Poppy Gold’s reservation hub,” Tessa said.
While the remaining tour of Poppy Gold was thorough, Gabe couldn’t pry another shred of personal information from her. He was lousy at chitchat, but it shouldn’t have been difficult since Tessa seemed to chatter away with the slightest provocation. She even had conversations with cats.
Still, Gabe noticed that the tour didn’t include anything related to security. He just didn’t know if the omission meant anything. Working in Poppy Gold’s security division would have been his top choice, but naturally they did far more extensive background checks on those employees than ones in grounds maintenance. It was likely that his connection to TIP would have been revealed and questioned.
“Have you found a place to live?” Tessa asked after they returned to the maintenance center. Though located in a modern building, it had a Victorian-style facade that blended well with Poppy Gold’s ambiance.
“I’ve rented a furnished studio in town.”
“You were lucky to find something local—we don’t have many rentals in Glimmer Creek. I don’t see any other employees around. They must all be out working. Did Pop tell you what to do for the rest of the day?”
“Mow the lawns and edge the walkways around these two houses.” He pointed to a map on the wall. “I understand you primarily use electric equipment to minimize noise.”
“That’s right. We have riding mowers for the large areas, like the old city center park, but whenever possible, we coordinate using them around the guest schedule. Have you been given a locker assignment?”
Gabe shook his head.
Tessa unlocked a cabinet, consulted a ledger and gave him a key. “This is to locker 5A—work gloves and other protective gear should be in there already. I’ll let you get started, but be sure to take your breaks and lunch. If you have any questions, check with the reservations desk and they’ll find me.”
She left quickly, and Gabe wondered if she was eager to get rid of him. Not that he’d blame her. She managed the conference center and surely had more urgent responsibilities than giving new-employee tours and evicting ornery felines from rooms where they weren’t wanted.
* * *
TESSA HURRIED ACROSS Poppy Gold to the Glimmer Creek Train Depot. She tried not to be a micromanager, so she had established her office away from Old City Hall. Since she handled most of the business clients, it was also nice to have the quieter work space.
“Hey, Jamie,” she called to her eighteen-year-old cousin, who was dressed in period costume and talking to a group of schoolchildren.
Jamie waved back. Close to half of Poppy Gold’s employees were related to Tessa in one way or another. In Jamie’s case, she was Tessa’s maternal uncle Daniel’s daughter and had started working at Poppy Gold Inns right after graduating from Glimmer Creek High. She was rather young for her age, which was why Uncle Daniel and Aunt Emma hadn’t pushed her to leave for college immediately.
Tessa’s office was on the second floor, and she gazed out the window for a moment, loving the peaceful scene. The abandoned train track had never been torn out, and it ran like a ribbon through the countryside, much overgrown, leading to the old railroad spur turnaround. Only the section that ran along the edge of Poppy Gold was in good condition. On it sat a steam engine and two passenger cars from the 1870s, sparklingly restored, looking as if they had just arrived at the station. Their visitors loved the train, and in peak seasons, the passenger cars were filled with picnickers.
Tessa thought about the lunch baskets available at the general store, packed with fried chicken, baked ham on biscuits, fresh-baked bread and other goodies. The baskets were more Hollywood illusion than authentic flavors from the 1800s, but they were popular. And there might be things Poppy Gold could do to simulate a train ride.
She jotted a note in her “idea” book. It was filled with things to do at Poppy Gold, supplementing the plan she’d made in college. Her parents had begun to implement her concept a few years ago, but there was always more to do. In a way it made her feel even more responsible, knowing that turning the business into a conference center was something she’d urged them to try. She’d helped, coming home weekends and spending vacations there, but a lot had fallen on her mom’s and dad’s shoulders.
Now it was mostly on her.
She pressed a hand to her stomach. Suggesting changes as an eager college student was a lot easier than carrying them out herself. Where had all the blind certainty of her youth gone? Maybe the final vestiges had been lost with her mother’s death.
“Hey,” Jamie said, poking her head through the office doorway. “The school group is gone. Mom made peach pies last night and sent one for you.”
She came in holding a Tupperware pie-taker. Tupperware containers were ubiquitous in Glimmer Creek thanks to two of Tessa’s maternal great-aunts who’d thrown so many parties to sell the stuff that it was stockpiled in everyone’s basements. Glimmer Creek was filled with relatives on her mom’s side of the family.
Tessa’s mouth watered. Nobody made pies like Aunt Emma. “My taste buds thank her, but my hips aren’t so sure.”
“Like you need to worry. Can you believe it? Mom even said to eat it with ice cream because you’re too skinny. She never says that to me.”
“I’m not skinny,” Tessa denied automatically. Her female relatives kept trying to feed her, claiming she’d lost weight since returning home, but they worried too much.
If they weren’t trying to fix her up with a guy, they were urging her to eat more.
“You’re skinnier than me.”
Jamie tugged at her costume and stuck out her bottom lip in the mock pout she’d perfected as a four-year-old. The same as most Fullerton women, she was a late bloomer and still carried a few childhood pounds she couldn’t seem to lose. Tessa had gone through the same phase herself.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Tessa urged.
“That’s easy for you to say. My face is so round. I look like a chipmunk that’s stuffed its cheeks with nuts.”
“Lance doesn’t seem to think so.”
Jamie’s eyes filled with delight at the mention of her boyfriend. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
Tessa smiled, though she
didn’t know a great deal about the young man her dad had hired several months earlier, other than what Jamie had told her.
Lance Beckley was one of the Poppy Gold employees who hadn’t grown up in the area. He’d shown up on his motorcycle, wandered around town a couple of days and then applied for a job in the maintenance department. Pop had hired him to clear brush and dig rocks from the area where they hoped to plant two additional orchards. Tessa had been concerned when she heard he was the biker who’d invaded Poppy Gold, roaring up and down the streets, but he hadn’t caused any problems since then.
When her cousin had gone back to work, Tessa made calls to several clients, booking a destination wedding for a CEO’s daughter, along with three corporate retreats and a class reunion.
At 1:00 p.m. she got up to do her usual quick walk through Old City Hall and around the grounds. At the Mayfair Mansion she stopped and watched Gabe McKinley working in the garden. The lawn at the nearby Calaveras House was already smartly groomed, so he’d obviously started there first.
His shirt stretched over his shoulders, his muscles flexing as he lifted a load of clippings onto a cart, and she felt an unwelcome warmth in her abdomen. She didn’t want to be attracted to a guy like Gabe, even in passing.
He noticed her and bobbed his head without stopping his work. Then she noticed he was about to yank one of the plants from behind the sundial.
“No, wait,” Tessa cried, dashing over. “That’s supposed to be there.”
* * *
GABE STARED AT the plant he’d been about to pull. It was supposed to stay? He hadn’t touched the flowerbeds since Liam Connor had told him to work on the lawns, but this thing had looked too weedy to leave behind. The gardens in general seemed chaotic, with masses of different flowers crowded together. He guessed it was attractive, but it wouldn’t do any harm to impose some order.
Tessa crouched and patted the ground around the base of the weed he’d grabbed, though she seemed to avoid touching the plant itself. “Uh...Pop must have forgotten to say you shouldn’t do anything on the flowerbeds until you receive some training.”
“Oh.” Gabe’s instructions from the elder Connor had been distracted, to say the least; Liam gave the impression that his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Age-related memory problems were also a possibility, despite him seeming too young for senility. “This isn’t a weed?”
“No, it’s foxglove. This one has already flowered, but wait until you see it next year. I’m not sure foxglove belongs in a true Victorian garden, but we love it.”
“Are you a horticulturist, too?”
“Just an enthusiastic amateur. My mother did the research and designed all our gardens and...er...planted most of the perennials and biennials herself. She liked the natural style of the late-Victorian era. Formal gardens wouldn’t suit Poppy Gold nearly as well.”
Liked. Past tense.
That must mean Liam was a widower. While it was information, it wouldn’t have much bearing on his investigation. Gabe shifted restlessly. He preferred direct action to covert activity, but this was something he had to do for Rob. A part of him still felt guilty for escaping to the navy and leaving his younger brother alone with their parents.
“So, what did you study in college?” Gabe asked, trying to make the question sound casual. Apparently he didn’t succeed, because Tessa became guarded again.
“Business. It looks as if you’re almost done here. Since it’s your first day, I’m sure Pop won’t mind if you take the rest of the afternoon off. Just return the equipment to Maintenance.”
“I can’t quit early. You know what they say—a day’s work for a day’s pay. I’ll find something to keep me occupied.” Gabe was elated. With Liam gone, he would have an ideal chance to poke around and get a better lay of the land.
Her lips tightened. “All right, but don’t do anything to the garden beds. I need to get back to my office.”
Gabe was almost amused. The only thing he’d learned for certain was that Tessa Connor was protective of the plants her mother had put in the ground. He couldn’t imagine being sentimental that way himself, but it was Tessa’s business. Of course, his own mother had been pickled with alcohol for most of his childhood, so he was unlikely to get maudlin about her mementos.
The truth was, he knew too much about the dark side of human nature, yet he still found most people incomprehensible.
Copyright © 2016 by Julianna Morris
ISBN-13: 9781488006913
Matinees with Miriam
Copyright © 2016 by Vicki So
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