Incident At Elder Creek Page 7

  Leah’s name on this list proved to be a strange turn of events. Didn’t she come across as supportive when they talked last? Why would Leah be opposed to opening the mine and not say something to her? She didn’t even have a history in this town. Or did she?

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” Jackie said.

  Tucker gave her a wary look. “What deal?”

  “I’ll take the Curmudgeons. I have an idea of how to win them, or at least him, over. You have to take Joe, though.”

  Tucker brightened. “And Leah?”

  “Yes, Tucker, you take Leah. Of course.” She smirked.

  “Stop it,” Tucker said.

  “What?”

  “Stop your grinning.”

  “I didn’t grin.

  “Yeah, right,” Tucker said with a note of disgust. “You were so grinning.”

  “Fine, I was grinning. So, when are you going to see her?”

  Tucker took out her phone. “Do you know what time she gets home from work?”

  “I think she’s usually home by four o’clock.”

  “I have an hour, then. I think I’ll go see if Joe’s around.”

  As Tucker headed toward Jackie’s front door, her back to her friend, she said, “And stop smirking, Jackie O’Malley.”

  “DEVIL’S ADVOCATE,” LEAH said. “I’m not opposed to it, per se, I’m concerned about everybody in town. That’s why I told Jackie if there was a campaign to change the mind of the opposition, I wanted to be first on the list. People were affected by what happened back in the late 1870s and there’s still some lingering unsettling miasma floating around about it.”

  “The little girl’s family relocated to the East Coast after she died,” Tucker said. “This town consisted mostly of miners and merchants, tough birds who’d seen a lot of tragedies. Once it was over, they continued on with their lives. The rumors of ghosts and strange occurrences didn’t start until later, probably by a bunch of frustrated parents trying to make their children behave and stay away from the mine so they wouldn’t get hurt. They didn’t even put those reinforced wooden doors and padlock on the mine entrance until around the 1900s. Until then, its doors were made of flimsy wood and there wasn’t even a lock.”

  Tucker ran her hand across the back of her neck in irritation. Devil’s Advocate, indeed. Why was she forced to come back to see Leah and defend her position about the mine when there were other people she needed to talk to? She didn’t mind seeing Leah again, but she didn’t understand how someone who only lived in Elder Creek for a few years, and who gave the impression she understood the concept of what they were trying to do, would have any deeply embedded opposition to opening the mine for escorted tours.

  “I know all that, Leah, but we need the mine if we’re going to succeed.”

  The discussion continued with Tucker defending the opening of the mine until Leah finally smiled and said, “Good. I’m glad to see you’ve thought this through, Tucker.”

  Tucker pulled her eyebrows down into a frown. “So, I’m confused. Are you for it or against it?”

  Leah let out a little chuckle. “Oh, I’m for it. I always have been.”

  “Then why—”

  “Tucker, when I heard a small faction in town opposed opening the mine—in spite of the fact that it’s a terrific idea to bring in both revenue and curious people who will spend money on food, lodging, souvenirs and mine tours—I researched the whole history of the mine and what happened to the little girl so I’d have all the facts. Then I researched the later information on rumors and concerns and knew those were mostly invented by people with concerns and fears about mine access until 1905. You’re right. They probably were afraid for their kids who loved to explore the area around the mine. Their fear and some overheard half-conversations transformed into ghosts and other eerie things that probably never happened to try to scare their children off. When it didn’t work, the citizenry demanded the mayor do something to keep kids out of the mine. The doors went up then, and the padlock went on. Of course, it only fueled the gossip fire more and the story became bigger.

  “Did you know an article in the Portero News in 1906 said there was another cave in and this time three kids, all brothers, died while exploring the cave the same day as the San Francisco earthquake? The paper said they never concluded if it was coincidence or if it was related to the quake.”

  “No. I didn’t. But that was after the mine was locked up. There have always been rumors of another entrance, though—a ’secret entrance.’ Did someone actually go to the mine and get inside?”

  “Nope. A follow-up story says someone from some town called Hatchet came to Portero. They met the reporter in an eating establishment, quite by accident, and told him the story someone related to him. It was all rumor, not founded in any facts.”

  “You’re kidding. Portero is less than an hour away on horseback and they didn’t come and check it out themselves before publishing the story?”

  “Exactly right. Apparently, the Reddman Mine has always fueled a great story so whenever anybody said anything about it, the old ghost would appear, literally and figuratively, and people took notice. In the second story the paper published, they admitted it was all unconfirmed rumor, but they never actually published a retraction and they didn’t put the information out about the ‘mistake’ until weeks later.”

  “I just have one question. Why? Why take on the Devil’s Advocate role?”

  “I knew you’d have to face them, the naysayers. I wanted to make sure you got the story straight and possessed all the ammunition you needed to change your real opponents’ minds. I put my name on the list because I wanted you to be able to talk it through, bringing out all the facts and the fiction, before facing the firebrands in town who might not be so quick to listen. I knew you knew all the positives of the commercial enterprise. I wanted to make sure you knew the truth, historically, in case any of it got thrown in your face as part of the arguments you might hear.”

  Tuckers said, “It wasn’t necessary to give me a heart attack.”

  Leah tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “When I saw your name on my list, my heart nearly stopped. Why you would be so opposed and not have said something before this?”

  Leah laughed.

  Tucker reeled. Leah’s laugh always made her feel a little faint for some reason.

  “There’s something else you said. You said the rumor came from Hatchet. I’ve only recently heard of the place.” She didn’t want to reveal how she’d heard about it. “Did the article indicate Hatchet’s location?”

  “No. The article implied a place everyone in the area would know, though. I guess it didn’t matter where the rumor started. It would have stirred up the gossip mill no matter where it came from.”

  “I guess you’re right. Still, it’s kind of strange to hear Hatchet is related to the mine, even if only through the gossip mill.”

  “Where did you hear about Hatchet, anyway?”

  Tucker didn’t know how to answer. If she told her, Leah would, indeed, think she’d lost her mind. The silence dragged on as Tucker looked down at her boots.

  “Tucker?”

  Tucker looked up. “Have dinner with me.” The statement startled Tucker. Where did that come from? She pushed on. “This time, let’s go to a nice restaurant, maybe over in Portero. Let’s make a night of it. I mean—if you want to. Maybe you don’t. It’s okay if you don’t.”

  “Tucker.”

  “I don’t’ want to push you, Leah.”

  “Tucker.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. If you did, you might not want—”

  “Tucker,” Leah said, louder this time. When Tucker finally made eye contact with her, she added, her tone softer now, “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  Tucker breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I have something else to ask you, and after I do, you might not want to spend time with me, but remember, you already accepted.”


  Leah wrapped her arms around her torso. “Okay.”

  As Tucker told her about the character idea, Leah exchanged the look of caution for one of excitement.

  “Tucker, what a great idea. Of course I’ll do it. It’ll be fun. I already have a lot of resources from the research I’ve done on the mine. It’ll be a piece of cake.” Then she added, “For an old librarian, that is.”

  “Oh, not that again. Will you ever stop throwing my embarrassing remark in my face?”

  “Only if it suits me, Ms. Stevens.”

  Leah laughed again.

  The butterflies took a lap around Tucker’s stomach. She felt as though she were carried far up into the clouds on their wings. She fidgeted while trying to get some control of her soaring spirit before she spoke. “Well, I can’t take all the credit. Actually Jackie came up with part of the idea.”

  “And it’s a great one. Sign me up. I’ll work on character studies. Exactly what time period are we doing? Have you decided?”

  Tucker told her.

  “Sounds like a good time. The mine operated full bore. The town was growing. And tragedy was still off in the future. It has a lot of potential.”

  Leah quieted for a few seconds before adding, “One thing. About dinner.”

  Uh-oh, here it comes. Second thoughts. Excuses to wiggle out of it. Tucker put up her guard, trying to keep the disappointment from her expression. “Yes? What about it?”

  “When we go, no talking about the project.”

  Tucker frowned. Not what she thought, then. “Why’s that, Leah?”

  “I want to leave everything behind and let us get to know each other. It’ll be the two of us, learning where we’ve come from and what we like, what we don’t like, what our dreams are.”

  Dreams? Maybe Tucker wished Leah would have canceled. Tell this woman about her dreams? Not those dreams. Dreams or hallucinations, whatever they were, she suspected if she did tell Leah about them, she would run as far away as possible into the night—away from Tucker. She didn’t want to take a chance on that happening.

  THE CHARLIE DIDN’T open for another hour, but Tucker knew Jackie never kept the door locked once she started getting ready to open for business. Tucker stood at the saloon door with her hand extended, hesitating before she pushed it open. She hoped she’d find Jackie behind the bar and not some stringy-haired, stubble-bearded miscreant.

  Instead of striding in confidently, as she usually did, she felt a reticence foreign to her, holding her back. When she finally mustered up the courage to push on the door, it felt as if it were too heavy, unyielding. She tried again, putting her whole body into it, and the door gave, opening enough for her to poke her head inside.

  Through a thick, viscous swirling fog, Tucker peered into the bar, empty of patrons. From behind the bar, not Jackie, but Tracey looked up from stacking glasses. Tucker breathed a sigh of relief and the fog lifted.

  Tracey brightened and said, “Hi Tucker. Jackie’s in back.” She tilted her head. “Want me to get her or are you coming in?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Um. I’ll come in.” Tucker stepped from behind the door and squeezed through the opening. One residual cloud hovered in the center of the room. It wasn’t real, Tucker told herself. As she stared, the miasma imploded and disappeared in a curl of smoke-like wisps onto itself.

  “You okay, Tucker?” Tracey asked.

  Tucker gave her a nervous smile.

  She took another step into the bar as Jackie came out of the back room, several bottles of liquor cradled in her arms like precious children.

  “Hi, Tucker.” She set the bottles on the counter but didn’t take her eyes off Tucker. “Something wrong, sweetie?”

  “No, nothing really,” she lied. The pressure on her chest told her she should be truthful. “Well, it’s no big deal, anyway.” Her breathing rate increased. Who was she trying to convince? Man, she hated it when she felt so out of control, and why did she feel this way now? Bewildered, she said, “I—I um...”

  Jackie came around from behind the bar and approached Tucker as she might a feral animal. When she reached her, she took her gently by the elbow, guiding her to a table at the far corner of the room, out of Tracey’s earshot. “Don’t lie to me, Tucker Stevens, something’s going on. Spill.”

  Sweat beaded on Tucker’s upper lip. She wiped her hand across her mouth. “That’s just it, Jackie. I have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Well, the Tucker Stevens I know usually doesn’t look like she’s seen a ghost and she’s usually not afraid to walk into my establishment like she owns the place.”

  “It’s the flashes I’m getting. I thought it was a dream, but now I’m getting them during the day when I’m awake.” She leaned forward. Her eyes glistened with tears as she whispered, “Jackie, I really think I’m losing my mind.”

  Jackie’s countenance changed. The look of concern vanished. She now looked angry. Her lips pursed tightly before she said, “No. You are not, Tucker.”

  The saloon door pushed open and a group of five jostled each other for entrance. A young woman among them said, “Can we get some coffee? I know it’s early and you aren’t open yet, but we’d appreciate it.”

  Tucker raised her eyebrows at Jackie. Opening and closing times at The Charlie were sacred—no one in before opening, everybody out at closing time.

  Jackie sighed and said to Tracey. “Can you get this?”

  Tracey quickly controlled her look of surprise and said, “Sure, no problem. I’ve got the coffee brewing now.” She gestured the group of men and women toward a table close to the front door and said, “Have a seat, coffee will be ready in a minute.”

  They all shuffled obediently to the table, settled in and started talking among themselves in quiet tones.

  Jackie turned her attention back to Tucker. “Tuck, what’s going on?”

  Tucker wasn’t ready to talk about it. The recently settled group proved to be a good distraction. “I might ask the same of you. How come you let those people in? It’s a good forty-five minutes ’til opening.”

  “It’s the press. Remember the other night when you and Leah were here for dinner and we were so busy Tracey called me in?”

  “Yeah, the two of you ran around like crazy to keep up with demand.”

  “The press has overrun Portero. It’s about the missing woman. There’s not a hotel room available there, so now Elder Creek has the overflow. It’s going to be busy until this blows over.”

  “Wow. Maybe you should hire a couple more people.”

  “Denise Miller-Sanchez is starting later today. She’s got experience. She’s worked in restaurants over in Portero and she even worked here filling in a few summers ago, so she should be able to hit the ground running after a quick orientation. But let’s get back to you. What’s going on?”

  She told Jackie about her dream. How when she went to bed it was today, and when she woke up, she found herself in yesteryear. She told her about the bartender at The St. Charles Saloon and how he projected an innate hatred of her. She told her about Leah—or Lily, rather—about how she looked like Leah, but wasn’t her.

  Then she told her about Olivia. “...she ran a sort of restaurant, a little place with a stove at the back. I think it’s where the bookstore is now. There’s no menu, just whatever Olivia’s serving that day, take it or leave it. And if you take it, it costs ten cents for breakfast and fifteen for lunch or dinner. And Olivia has green eyes, red hair, and a no-nonsense personality when it comes to running her business.”

  Recognition dawned on Jackie’s face. “She sounds just like...me?”

  “Yep. Looks exactly like you. Acts like you. Talks like you, although I did detect a slight bit of a brogue when she spoke. However, she claims she’s not you. Said Jackie was a boy’s name.” Tucker smiled for the first time since entering The Charlie.

  Jackie chuckled at the tease.

  Tucker felt the mirth quickly replaced with a feeling of desperation again. She tried to keep it from her
voice as she spoke. “Why do you suppose you and Leah are a part of this dream or vision or hallucination—whatever this is, but you’re not yourselves? And why is this guy, Nigel Dunbar, so hateful. I swear, if he’d gotten the chance and only half a good excuse, he’d have pulled out a gun and shot me right there in the saloon. And you wonder why I think I’m losing my mind?”

  Jackie stretched her arm across the table and placed her hand over Tucker’s. “Tucker, look at me.” When Tucker met her eyes, she saw compassion and concern again. Jackie said, “You are not your mother. She may have suffered with bouts of depression. You may have endured a tough childhood when she did, but you are not her. This is some crazy subconscious thing going on. You experienced a bad dream. I’ve encountered a few weird dreams myself. Some have stayed with me for days, I’m sure you know the kind I’m talking about. This might be the same thing. If it continues, let’s see if we can get you some help. Okay?”

  “You mean, like a shrink? No thanks.”

  “Tucker, seeing a psychologist or even a psychiatrist doesn’t mean you’re crazy, okay? You know it as well as I do.”

  Tucker looked down at Jackie’s hand on hers and shook her head.

  Jackie reiterated, “Right, Tucker?”

  In a barely audible voice, she said, “I guess.”

  She met Jackie’s gaze again and flipped her own hand over, palm up grasping Jackie’s. When she spoke this time, she sounded more confident. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s only some crazy dream haunting me. I’ll give it a few more days, then if it’s still bothering me, maybe I’ll see if I can find someone to help.”

  “Good,” Jackie pronounced. “Now, maybe you haven’t realized it, but while we’ve been talking about fifteen more people have come in here, so I’d better get over there and help Tracey.”

  Jackie’s chair scraped against the floor as she rose. She hesitated before walking away. “Are you going to be okay?”

  She needed to reassure Jackie so she could get back to work without worrying about her.

  Tucker gave her a tentative smile. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”