Undercover In Jenns Cove: A Jenns Cove Romance, #1

By Marc Sanderson

Half-truths and outright lies complicate life in a small town.
Small-town Jenns Cove, nestled in a pristine coastal environment, faces trouble they don't know exists. Titan Minerals Corporation has it in the cross-hairs. The Department of Justice asks Jake Weston to investigate what may be a fraudulent environmental impact statement, which dovetails perfectly with his mission to find his institute a project site.
The small-town lawyer he meets, Maggie Gallagher, is a single mom. The attraction is deep, but both fight the undertow for their own reasons. Maggie isn't ready for a love 'em and leave 'em fling. And though Jake can tell her about his project, the rest must remain confidential.
When the major landowner's nephew returns to Jenns Cove, he's in the corporation's pocket and has an old score to settle with Maggie. The eye of the storm is about to descend on Jenns Cove.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paper Gold Publishing OLD
• Release date: Nov 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393359012

Marc Sanderson

Marc Sanderson lives on the coast of California with his wife and their three cats. He has at one time or another studied biology, history, education, English, and law. Because being a perpetual student doesn’t pay well, he has worked from time to time as a dishwasher, waiter, tortilla chip maker, newspaper ad-layout artist, marine biologist, high school and college teacher, paralegal, book-reviewer, writer and editor (to name a few). For more information, visit the author’s website at www.marcsanderson.com 

Book preview

Prologue

Terror sliced through Helen Clancy. Her foot pounded on the brake pedal, but nothing happened. She was going too fast, and the section of mountain road ahead had a sharp curve above a deep ravine. In desperation, she pushed the steering wheel to the right, trying to wedge the car against the steep hillside, but that only threw the car back into the road, fishtailing crazily.

Oh God, I’m going to die! God help me.

She saw the curve coming and thought for a moment about opening the door and jumping out, but she was already travelling sixty miles an hour. As her car hit the curve, she turned the wheel, praying she would somehow make it around.

The car’s tires broke free from the road’s slick surface halfway through the curve, slamming the car into the guardrail. It flipped into the air and bounced on its roof with a horrifying sound of breaking glass and crunching metal, then rolled twice more and landed at the bottom of the ravine.

When Helen came to, the first thing she was aware of was a terrible pressure on her chest and pain. She couldn’t be sure how long she’d lain in the wreckage of her car, but miraculously, she was alive. The car had come to rest right-side up, though badly crushed. She was pinned by the steering wheel and a large piece of metal stuck out of her leg. When she tried to move, pain sliced through her. She would have screamed but couldn’t seem to get enough air.

Hearing a sound somewhere to her left, she summoned all her strength and turned her head. Blood in her eyes blurred vision, but she could just make out the figure of a large man coming toward her.

A wave of relief swept through her, and she sent up a prayer of thanks. She had always tried to live a good life. Hadn’t she brought the criminal misdeeds of her boss to the authorities even though snooping around had cost her job? Now, God was rewarding her. Tears mixed with the blood running down her cheeks.

The man made it to the car with some difficulty, scrambling over boulders to reach it. He leaned in the broken driver’s window, the calm smile on his face giving Helen comfort.

Help me, she breathed, but felt blood bubble up with the words.

The man said nothing. He only smiled, leaned in, and saw the deep red blood pulsing around the metal rod sticking out of the woman’s thigh.

Try to move your leg, he said, his voice warm and friendly.

I don’t think I should move. Blood burbled from her lips.

You have to, he urged. Just a little.

Desperately summoning her strength, Helen shifted an inch. She let out a moan and felt a surge of warm wetness flooding around her leg.

The man nodded. That’s good enough. Close your eyes. It won’t be long now. He leaned his elbows on the car door and chuckled. You really shouldn’t tattle.

Helen felt cold. Terribly, terribly cold. She worried she would be sick when the world started to spin. Then, suddenly, she wasn’t cold any longer.

The man smiled as he poured gasoline over the still-hot engine and frowned when it didn’t ignite at once. He took out his lighter, found a dry twig on the ground beside the car, and lit it. The flame flared and danced, making him smile again as he tossed it on the engine. The gasoline he’d added to the wreckage caught with a satisfying whoosh, and in a matter of moments, fire engulfed the wreck.

Smiling and whistling, the man made his way back to his car.

Titan Minerals’ Vice President for Acquisitions, Victor Carmoni, stood waiting patiently, only a slight twitch in the corner of one eye betrayed his agitation.

The Chairman, who sat behind his obsessively neat, Swedish-modern-style desk reading, backdropped by an amazing view of the city through floor to ceiling windows, would acknowledge him in his own time.

Victor knew this, but it grated on his nerves. Unfortunately, the Chairman and CEO of Titan Minerals was the only person in the world he feared, so he would have to put up with it. That grated too.

Finally, the Chairman looked up with those dead-shark eyes of his. Well?

The Chairman wasn’t one for small talk.

The problem has been taken care of, sir. Mr. Jones has seen to it.

The corners of the Chairman’s mouth twitched down almost imperceptibly. And the other matter? His dead eyes bore into Victor.

Victor swallowed. The property owner is proving more intractable than expected, but I assure you my plan will work. It’s less direct, perhaps, but it will let us acquire the Jenns Cove property without legal complications.

The Chairman’s eyes narrowed. Mr. Jones isn’t known for subtlety.

He’ll do as he’s told, sir. He may not like it, but he understands what’s at stake.

Do you, Victor?

Sir?

The Chinese are about to cut back the supply of rare earth metals to the U.S. When that happens, Titan stands to make five hundred million off the deposits under that old man’s land. I want this project underway, Victor. And no mistakes. Do you understand?

Victor unconsciously ran his tongue over dry lips. Yes, sir. Nothing links Jenns Cove back to Titan.

And?

And my position with the firm depends on it.

I see we do understand each other. With that he looked back down at the document he’d been reading and dismissed Victor with a perfunctory wave of his hand.

Turning with more assurance than he felt, Victor strode out of the office and quietly closed the heavy door behind him. His hands shook, so he crammed them into the pockets of his designer suit. He was in far too deep to make any mistakes. It wasn’t only his career on the line. The last Vice President at Titan who’d screwed up had mysteriously died in a kayaking accident. Victor knew the man—he didn’t kayak.

Not waiting until he got back to his office, he pulled his cellphone out and punched in a number he was coming to know all too well. "Mr. Jones? It’s Victor Carmoni...

Chapter One

From his first Ecology class in college, Jake Weston had had a vision. Now, he’d finally turned his vision into a reality, founding the Eco-System Services Institute. ESSI was still small, almost no one had heard of it yet, but it was an institute nonetheless—an environmental think tank. And ESSI was ready to move from theorizing to field studies.

But, after a year of searching, Jake still couldn’t find a viable project site. The heading on the report he’d just finished said it all: Project Site 6: Unsuitable.

Jake and the team he’d assembled were ready to begin a watershed-scale ecological inventory on a real site. They would catalogue all the ecosystems within a single watershed, studying how those ecosystems interacted with each other and the humans who lived there. Finally, they would apply market values to the natural services those systems provided. It would be a huge undertaking, never before attempted on this scale.

The goal was to create a computer model that could convince governments, corporations and landowners that conservation was not only ethically right but economically sound.

It would be a multi-year project, requiring the right kind of location. The project needed manmade as well as natural environments, a town surrounded by natural terrain in a large watershed with varied landscapes. To quote Goldilocks, the site had to be just right. It couldn’t be too large, or the task would become too complex. But it couldn’t be too small, or their model would be dismissed as too simplistic.

Most importantly, the local population had to be willing. If they viewed the ESSI scientists as wild-eyed environmentalists, hippie weirdos, the whole project would fail. At a minimum, Jake needed cooperative locals. A welcoming, enthusiastic populace would be even better, since Jake and his team needed access to most of the lands throughout the watershed.

Site 6, the last site Jake visited, and the last site on his list, was an inland watershed feeding Lake Shasta in Northern California. On the maps, it looked perfect. At 12,000 acres, it wasn’t too big, or too small. It had a good mix of forested wilderness terrain and agricultural and urban landscapes. When he’d arrived in the small town at the watershed’s center, Jake had been encouraged. He thought he might have finally found his project site. The town seemed great, small enough to be manageable data-wise, and friendly.

It hadn’t taken long, however, before word spread that he was an environmental scientist, which translated for the locals as eco-freak, job-stealing hippie. Suddenly doors closed in his face, and he got dirty looks from the people passing on the street.

He might have been able to work around some local animosity, but when he’d tried to talk with the rancher who owned a large portion of the upper watershed, the guy had made it abundantly clear he would never consider having a bunch of stinking hippie draft-dodgers poking around on his land. When Jake had tried to explain they weren’t hippies, they were serious scientists, it really set him off.

Scientists, apparently, were worse than hippies. They were against God and were ruining the whole world, making people afraid to drive their trucks, eat beef and go to church. As far as he was concerned, scientists were all a bunch of hippie Democrats. He’d told Jake to get the hell off his property and slammed the door in his face.

Proposed Site 6: a total bust.

Jake pushed back from his desk and exhaled in exasperation. He felt like screaming, but there was no one to scream at. Besides, it wouldn’t change a thing. He could yell at closed minds until he turned blue in the face, and it wouldn’t help them understand.

Patience, persistence, and reasoned science; it was how he had to make the case for conservation and sustainability. If he couldn’t persuade people, he’d never be able to force them.

So, the search for a study site would have to start again—from scratch.

Jake and his team would have to develop a new list of possibilities. But he was running out of time. ESSI had won a large grant from the National Science Foundation to move the study forward, but the funding was contingent on finding a site and beginning field work. If they didn’t come up with a site soon, they’d lose the grant.

Jake attached the disappointing report to an email to ESSI’s board members. He hesitated for a moment, then with a quiet curse, hit send. Too bad finding a suitable site wasn’t as easy.

Standing and stretching, Jake twisted right and left, loosening the tight muscles in his neck and shoulders. Streetlamps across Marina Boulevard flickered to life, and he finally noticed the boats in the marina were nearly shrouded in darkness. He looked at his watch. He’d been working for five hours without a break.

For a moment, he considered heading downtown, maybe catching up with friends or running into his sister at a club. Even on a Monday night, San Francisco always had something going on. Maybe he needed a night out. See some new faces. Have some fun. He’d worked all weekend, except for a brief outing to the gym.

But the idea didn’t hold much appeal. If he had to start a new site search from scratch, he might as well get started as soon as possible. It was the best way to overcome yet another setback.

Unfortunately, ‘start from scratch’ brought his sister’s nagging voice into his head. Lately, she’d been bugging him about applying his dogged work ethic to his personal life. After all, she’d said, wasn’t he starting from scratch there as well?

Jake’s already irritable mood ratcheted up a notch. He hated being nagged by his little sister, but his whole family was worried about him, which made him feel guilty.

It had been a little over a year since he’d been dumped—hard. A week before the wedding, his fiancée had told him she wanted something different. She didn’t want to spend her life tromping around in the woods looking at bugs and fish and couldn’t understand why he did. She’d signed on for a completely different kind of life.

And that had been that. Two weeks later she moved in with a bank executive and was living the life she wanted.

The Charlotte debacle, as his family had taken to calling it, had torn him apart. He found himself questioning everything about himself and everyone else and had spent the last year either buried in work or off alone on camping trips. For the most part, his family hadn’t bugged him about it.

But over the last couple of months, his sister Tracy had unilaterally decided he’d moped long enough—especially with the holidays approaching. She’d begun pushing him to start dating again. Whenever they spoke, she pestered him to stop protecting his heart at the expense of living his life—whatever the hell that meant. Occasionally she’d drop by unannounced and declare she’d had enough of his brooding and insist he get back out there. And she was just pig-headed enough not to let up on him until he started dating again.

Well, bug butts to that! If he didn’t want to go out and make mindless small talk in a noisy bar with women he didn’t know and probably didn’t want to know, it was his business! Tracy could shove it.

He wasn’t in a sociable mood and going out on the town would only remind him of Charlotte, his big mistake. It certainly wouldn’t help his mood. Better all-around if he stayed home and got to work.

Just as Tracy’s voice rang in his head, taunting him for hiding out, his phone bleeped and silenced her nagging.

Jake checked the caller ID. Fortunately, it wasn’t his sister. The smiling face of Dave Summerton, Jake’s best friend, popped up on his phone. He and Dave had been inseparable growing up and through college. Dave’s college girlfriend—now his very pregnant wife—had joined them their first year at UC Berkeley, and the three of them had done everything together at school and for several years after graduation. Then, two years ago, Dave and Kathy had moved to Washington D.C. where Dave got a job at the Department of Justice.

Having his two best friends leave had been a hard blow for Jake. Especially after his breakup with Charlotte, he’d missed them, so Dave’s call couldn’t have been more welcome.

Hey, buddy! Jake answered, What’s up? Kathy hasn’t had the baby yet, has she?

Nah, Dave said with a grunt. She’s still big as a house and cursing you every time she struggles out of a chair or goes pee for the third time in an hour.

Jake laughed. Dave could always make him laugh, even if he was feeling like shit. Why is she cursing me? Last time I checked, you were the one who got her pregnant. I had nothing to do with it.

If we hadn’t gone back to help you lick your wounds after she-who-shall-remain-nameless dumped you, we’d have been here working instead of taking a week off at a beach house, getting all romantic. We would have been too busy to get pregnant, so, technically, it is your fault. Or Charlotte’s.

I thought she would remain nameless.

Sorry, man. My bad. So, how are you doing? Tracy told Kathy you’ve been kind of a recluse lately. You’re not going all broody again?

I’m fine, Jake assured his friend, though he wondered if it was true.

His last conversation with Charlotte played over in his head. She hadn’t even been sad; she’d been defiant when she told him she’d met someone else, someone who understood her and gave her what she really needed. Apparently, Char needed someone who wanted to party and spend a lot of money.

Fine, huh? Dave sounded skeptical. If you’re so fine, why aren’t you seeing anyone? Tracy said you haven’t dated anyone in longer than she can remember. Come to think of it, the last few times we talked, I don’t remember you mentioning anything other than work.

Did you call just to bust my balls? Jake grumbled, letting his mood slip into his voice, or is there a point to this? And stop letting Kathy talk to Tracy. My sister’s a big enough pain in the ass without Kathy’s help.

Dave laughed. "Actually buddy, there is a point. Though I don’t believe being concerned about a friend is ball-busting. Now Kathy, she’d happily bust your balls, what with the pregnancy hormones and the bloating making her mean.

In that case, thanks for keeping her out of it, Jake said, though he wasn’t feeling very thankful. He wished his friends—and his pain in the ass sister—would leave him alone. If he wasn’t dating, it was because he was too busy. Since he would be restarting the whole site selection process, he’d have even less time, so it was a damn good thing he wasn’t seeing anyone.

Hey, man. I really didn’t call to give you a hard time. Kathy and I are just worried. We feel a little guilty since we introduced you. Charlotte was kind of our fault.

You didn’t force me to propose, Jake said.

True enough. In fact, Kath and I were blown away when you told us you had. It didn’t seem like the two of you were really connecting the last year.

Yeah, well, that was my mistake. I stupidly thought if I went all-in, she’d see what we could have together, but I guess we had different ideas about life after the wedding. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she started looking around for someone whose idea of married life fit hers.

Yeah, who knew? Right?

Not wanting to talk about Charlotte, Jake changed tack. Anyways, forget it. I’m good now. Or I will be once I find a project site for ESSI.

Well, that’s part of why I called. Last month my office got a call from a disgruntled ex-clerk in the Planning Department in Mendocino County. She’d recently lost her job with the county and was whistleblowing, so her information is suspect. But in this case, we think it’s worth checking out. Especially because she died in a suspicious accident, so she’s not available to interview.

Sorry to hear it, but what’s it got to do with me finding an ESSI site?

Are you still on the DOJ’s environmental consultants list?

Yeah. I’ve still got clearance.

Good. Everything from here on out is confidential, okay?

Sure, Jake answered, intrigued despite himself. Anything to get his mind off the ESSI disappointment and the Charlotte debacle.

"Okay. The clerk said an odd project application came across her desk a couple months ago. The documents were all there and seemed in order, but some of the data and the conclusions they drew seemed off—the whole package was too perfect for the proposal. When she made a joke about it, the head of the planning department got defensive and told her to just sign off on it and send it up to his office."

All right, so there was some interoffice power struggle going on. Maybe they didn’t like each other. Jake shrugged. Doesn’t seem like a big deal. If she got fired, she was probably just trying to make trouble for the guy who canned her.

That’s one possibility, Dave said. There are other factors involved, though, and I need someone to go check it out. The project was greenlighted without significant public comment—a large mine about twenty miles north of the Mendocino County line. Think redwoods and steep terrain.

Yeah, I know the area. It’s beautiful up there. But I’m still not sure what you want from me, or why a mine up in Mendocino is an issue for the DOJ. The Sierra Club, maybe, but not the DOJ.

I can’t really tell you much, but I need a completely unbiased third party to check out the Environmental Impact Report. We’ve had some cases thrown out of court lately because the corporations we were prosecuting claimed entrapment. You would have to go in blind.

Okay, Jake said. That’s understandable, but I still don’t see what it’s got to do with me finding an ESSI site.

That’s just it, Dave plunged ahead. I remembered what you told me you were looking for in a site—mid-sized watershed, one or two towns, and a good mix of agriculture and wildlands. The area where the mine would be is near a little town called Jenns Cove. I’ve checked out the topos, and the area seems a good fit for your criteria. For what I need you to do, you’ll need a convincing cover story... like scouting out a project site. It would be a win-win!

"I’m sorry, Dave, but I really don’t have time to do any consulting right now. I need to actually find a site, not pretend to find one. Most of my staff is on leave until I can find a site, and if I can’t find one by the end of January, we’re going to lose a three-million-dollar grant. I can’t do it. Sorry, man."

I get it, Dave said, undaunted by Jake’s flat refusal. You’re pressed for time. But that’s why this assignment is so perfect for you. You wouldn’t be faking it. Jenns Cove could work out for you, and all you would need to do for us is go in there and check the data in the Preliminary Environmental Report. Just let us know if it’s bogus or not. We’ll do the rest. And while you’re checking out our stuff, you can scope out the area to see if it would work for you. A lot of what you’d be doing for us would probably overlap with your own site evaluation. You’d get a two-fer.

I don’t know, Jake waffled, wondering if this could possibly work. If it did, it would save him a lot of time. My team and I haven’t discussed a coastal site. It would add a new dimension, a new set of variables in the analysis, I’d need a whole marine team. I’d have to check it out with the board.

Come on, Jake. You know you love a challenge, Dave said. A new dimension should be right up your alley. And it would mean a lot to me.

Jake was silent for a long while, considering. At this point he didn’t have any other viable sites to check, so he wouldn’t be shifting from another promising possibility. He could go to Jenns Cove himself and have his remaining small staff begin searching for other sites while he was gone. They could also start brainstorming how their analyses would have to be adapted to include the marine environment.

He really wouldn’t mind getting away for the holidays, especially if it meant avoiding his sister’s nagging and his mother’s less than subtle prodding about his nonexistent love life. She thought Jake was her best bet for more grandchildren. His older brother was tapped out, literally, since he’d had a vasectomy, and Tracy showed no signs of settling down anytime soon. His mom had been eagerly anticipating the beautiful babies she hoped he and Charlotte would make.

Jake sometimes wondered if his mother’s pressure for him and Charlotte to get going on a family had been one of the things that had driven her away. Charlotte had been lukewarm at best whenever he’d mentioned wanting kids. She didn’t want to be tied down. She wanted to live a jet-set life, and kids would’ve only slowed her down.

Jake had grown up in a great family, and he wanted to start one of his own. Unfortunately, his mother knew it and worried he’d missed his best chance. Worse yet, Jake knew she worried his disastrous relationship with Charlotte had tainted his view of women and made him cynical about love.

Tell you what, Jake finally answered, warming to the idea, give me a couple hours to pull up the maps and take a look at the area. If it looks like a possibility, I’ll call you back, and you can send me the documents you want me to check out. It’s the best I can do.

Sounds great! Dave enthused. I couldn’t ask for more.

An hour later, Jake punched in Dave’s home number, but Kathy answered. Hi Jake! Long time since we talked—about nine months. Bastard.

Hey, there was an extra room at the beach house. It’s not my fault you guys wanted to sleep in the same bed.

Yeah, so you say. Anyway, it’s Charlotte I should throttle. It’s her damned fault we were there in the first place.

Be my guest. Just be careful when you try choking her. She’s mean.

Kathy laughed. I’m a doctor; I know just where to throttle’m. How did you ever get hooked up with such a barracuda when you’re such a softy, Jake?

Really? Jake asked, amused.

Oh, yeah, right, I introduced you. I forget sometimes, Kathy said without a hint of contrition in her voice. She’d also been the one to tell him he’d be crazy to propose to her, so she didn’t have much sympathy. So, how are you doing, Jake? I talked to Tracy; she’s worried. Says you’ve turned into a workaholic hermit, and she can’t get you to go out at all. Plus, you’re getting all dark and moody again.

Tracy’s a pain in the butt, he countered. Besides, I thought women like dark and mysterious.

Mysterious, yes—to a point—but moody? Not so much. Of course, for a woman to decide whether she likes your brand of mysterious, she’d have to meet you in the first place. So, stop sitting at home brooding over stupid maps and get back out there.

Okay, fine. Whatever you say. Now, can I talk to Dave, please? You see, I’ve got this stupid map I want to brood over with him.

Kathy snorted. You’re incorrigible.

One of my better qualities, along with mysterious. Hey, before you put Dave on the phone, how are you doing? How’s my goddaughter treating her mom?

She’s currently angry because I ate Indian food for dinner. She’s kicking me in the side like a soccer player and elbowing my bladder like a roller derby queen. If she weren’t already a homebody, I’d ground her for being a brat.

Tough love, huh?

You bet. But the opposite punishment for you. Stop being a brat and worrying your sister—who’s not a pain in the butt, by the way, she’s sweet—and go out and find a nice woman to get pregnant so our kids can play together.

Um, sure, I’ll get right on it. But first I actually need to talk to Dave.

Fine, but don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. I want to hear about some new woman in your life the next time we talk. And it had better not be a year from now, or I’ll start fixing you up with people, and we know how well it went last time.

Jake heard muffled shuffling on the other end of the line.

Now, Kathy grunted, straining, if I can hoist myself out of this chair, you bastard, I’ll see if I can find my husband, the other bastard. If men had to carry the babies, I bet there’d be a whole lot less sex in the world.

Yeah, we’re bastards. Sorry about that.

She snorted again, then giving up the attempt to rise, yelled for Dave without bothering to cover the phone, blasting Jake in the ear.

She came back on the line a moment later, her tone suddenly serious. One last thing, Jake. Dave won’t say this, so I’ll have to. Be careful. I get the sense from Dave there’s more to this than usual. He won’t say anything specific, but I can tell he’s worried, which worries me. I think these guys he’s going after are more dangerous than your average polluters. Just be careful and don’t do anything stupid. I love you, you bastard. Stay safe.

A moment later, Dave came on the line, chuckling. I hear you’re still a bastard.

I heard it too. And apparently women don’t like moody men.

Huh, good to know, Dave mused. So, what do you think about Jenns Cove?

I think it looks promising, so I guess you’ve got your consultant. You may have just saved me a lot of time pouring over maps—something else women apparently aren’t too fond of.

Great, Jake. About the Jenns Cove thing, not the map thing. Why don’t women like maps?

Apparently, they’re stupid and turn moody men into work hermits.

Hmm. I learn something new every day. Anyways, first thing in the morning, I’ll email you the file on Jenns Cove. How soon do you think you’ll get up there? I’d like to get moving on this ASAP.

Jake had already called the other board members to tell them the news, and they’d agreed he should go by himself as soon as possible. If it looked like the site might pan out, he could call for a team to come help later.

I have a few things to take care of here this week, Jake answered, quickly checking his calendar. I’ll make arrangements tomorrow to rent a place up there, and I should be able to head up by the end of the week. Saturday at the latest.

Fantastic! I’ll send you the file in the morning. Sorry this came up so close to Thanksgiving. At least Jenns Cove is close enough for you to get back to the city for dinner with your folks.

Oh yeah, that’s a real bonus, Jake said wryly.

I thought you love Thanksgiving with your family.

I do, but Mom and Tracy have been on my case about my lack of a social life, and I wasn’t looking forward to them double-teaming me all evening.

Well, they do have a point. You’ve been reclusive lately. Maybe you should go out and start seeing someone.

Not you too! Oh, wait. Is Kathy on the line?

No, came Kathy’s unrepentant voice, followed by a loud click.

Just send me the file. I’ll let you know what I find, and I’ll send you a whopping bill with my report.

You’ll have it first thing. And buddy, meddling women aside, it wouldn’t hurt you to get back out there. Just make sure next time you really know each other before you get serious.

I promise, Jake said with a wry grin, having absolutely no intention of dating anyone. Maybe Jenns Cove would be the perfect place to hide out long enough to get his family and friends off his back.

Saturday morning, Jake met Tracy for lattes and scones at the coffee shop near his house. The place made the best coffee in the neighborhood, so it was crowded at 7:30 and took them several minutes to get their drinks. To Tracy’s dismay, there were no seats available inside.

Tracy loved her big brother, worried about him more than she probably should, certainly more than he appreciated. Meeting him at this horrid hour was proof positive she loved him.  At the moment, though, she couldn’t remember why.

Jesus, Jake! she groaned, pulling her coat around herself as she followed him outside to a small round table on the sidewalk. People were just beginning to stir, moving along the street, bundled up and going about whatever business had taken them from their beds. God herself, had the good sense to stay in bed until a civilized hour, Tracy was sure, especially on a weekend.

She wiped the morning dampness from her chair with a napkin before sitting, then huddled over her triple-shot latte, warming her hands and glaring at her brother. The November air was clear but bitingly cold. Jesus, Jake, she repeated, I didn’t know the sun even got up this early.

Stop complaining and drink your coffee, Jake returned good-naturedly. He grinned at the huddled form sitting across the table, bundled in a bulky pea coat, a wool hat pulled over her ears. Normally his sister wouldn’t leave the house without being dressed to the nines with her makeup perfect. This morning she looked like she’d just dragged herself out of bed two minutes ago, which Jake suspected was probably the case. She’d never been a morning person, and he felt a little guilty for getting her out so early.

He and Tracy were polar opposites. He loved getting up and going early in the morning, often rising before dawn; Tracy thought getting out of bed before 9:00 a.m. ought to be a crime. Since she’d already informed him when he called her at 7:00, she’d been out with friends until two in the morning, he suspected today she would consider it a capital crime. Tracy had always been most comfortable in the city, thriving on the hustle and bustle and crowds; Jake loved being out in nature, hiking, camping or just sitting on a lonely beach listening to the waves. Ironically, crowded cities always left him feeling lonely, despite all the people.

Glaring at her brother, Tracy sipped her latte and sighed deeply. Heaven in a cup! She broke off a piece of blueberry scone and nibbled, though it was too early for food. She needed more caffeine first.

She eyed Jake over the rim of her cup. Okay, what’s so important you needed to meet me at the crack of dawn?

The sun’s been up for an hour. Besides, you look beautiful in this light.

Right! She laughed at his unexpected compliment despite her irritation. "You are so full of BS, Jake, you ought to be mooing. I look like something the cat dragged in. Probably because I was dragged in only a few hours ago, and I didn’t get nearly enough beauty rest. You must want a big favor."

And yet, you’re still beautiful, he replied with total sincerity. Though she wasn’t looking her best, she was still a beauty. She’d gotten their mother’s thick, chestnut hair, delicate facial features and crystal blue eyes. The trim, athletic body hidden beneath the heavy wool coat ran in the family on both sides, so it was no surprise she had guys lining up around the block to take her out.

So, what’s up, Jake? Why am I here, freezing my ass off when I should be sleeping—and by the way, you’re damn lucky I didn’t bring anybody home with me last night, or you’d be sitting here by yourself.

That wouldn’t have been a problem. I would have grabbed coffee for three and come over to your place. I’m always curious to see who crawls out of your bedroom, and what shape he’s in. His grin broadened.

Hey, wait a minute! If you would have brought coffee to my place, why am I sitting in the cold waiting for you to ask me a favor, when I could be curled up on my sofa, wrapped in a warm blanket?

Jake would have enjoyed sparring with her for a while longer, but he was pressed for time. He had several things to get done before leaving for Jenns Cove, and he had promised the woman at the property management company he would pick up the key by three o’clock in the afternoon without fail. She’d been adamant.

After he had gotten off the phone with Dave, he’d called the only property agent listed in Jenns Cove. It had been 6:30, and he’d caught Gloria Burke as she was leaving her office for the evening. She hadn’t been too pleased by the late call, but by the time he’d hung up twenty minutes later, she seemed very happy. She had rented him a large house—bigger than he needed—for a month, with an extra commission, which seemed to have made up for the lateness of his call.

Jake gave Tracy what he hoped was his most endearing smile and said, You’re right about the favor, sis. I know it’s last minute, but I was hoping you could watch Wampus for me. Just for a little while.

Tracy’s eyes narrowed. How little of a while, and where are you going all of a sudden?

Well, he said, running a finger over his lower lip, a nervous habit he’d picked up from their mother, it would only be for two or three weeks. He quickly held up both hands to forestall her refusal. Come on, I know it’s a pain, but you can take him to your place. He’ll keep you company. I’m really in a bind here. My usual pet sitter called and cancelled at the last minute, and I’ve got to get on the road this morning.

Tracy groaned. Damn it, Jake. You know the last time I watched your rotten cat he shredded the back of my favorite chair. So, you can forget sending him to live with me. And where are you going for two weeks on such short notice anyway? Her eyes lit up mid-question. Did you meet someone? Hmm? Tell me! Who is she? It’s about time you stopped pining for Barracuda Girl. I still can’t believe—

Jake moved to cut off the tirade he’d heard several times before. No, I haven’t met anyone. Dave Summerton called out of the blue and asked me to do him a favor. I said I would, but it means being out of town for a couple weeks. He needs me to check out an Environmental Impact Report up on the Mendocino coast, a place called Jenns Cove.

And it’ll take you two weeks? Why didn’t you say no? Jake, it’s Thanksgiving next week. Mom will kill you if you beg off again this year.

I know, he said, cringing. He dreaded telling his mother he wouldn’t make it home. But this is time sensitive. On top of checking the data for Dave, I’ll be checking out the area to see if my ESSI project could be sited there.

I thought you were going to do it somewhere in Oregon, Tracy said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

There was one site in Oregon, but it didn’t pan out. Since Dave needs this job done, I figured I’d check out the Mendocino coast to see if the project might work there instead. Kill two birds with one stone. It would be closer to San Francisco, which would be great for me. I’d be able to keep a closer eye on things once I get the project off the ground. I was thinking of bringing in—

No! Don’t start with details. It’s too damned early, and I won’t be able to get you stopped. Besides, you said you were in a hurry. She narrowed her eyes and continued, So here’s the deal. I’ll watch Mr. Wampus, but on two conditions. First, I’ll stay at your place. It’s easier for me, and it doesn’t give Wampus a chance to destroy any more of my furniture. Second, you must promise me you’ll look around at the women in Jenns Cove and ask one of them out. At least for coffee. Deal?

Jake’s expression flattened and his jaw tightened. Nag, he thought, looking down at his hands wrapped around his nearly empty coffee cup.

She’d trapped him. If he made a promise, he would keep it. It was just who he was. And Tracy would hold him to it. That’s who she was.

He took a deep breath and fought off his annoyance. It wasn’t as if she was demanding he go out and find a new bride tomorrow, just ask a woman out for coffee. Simple. He’d done it a hundred times before. Hell, he could ask the property agent to meet him at a coffee shop for the key handover. It would technically satisfy the terms his annoying little sister had set out. Problem solved.

He smiled. Okay. Deal, he said, looking at his sister. The concern in her eyes turned to relief as she saw she hadn’t pushed him too far.

Good. So, remind me again why Oregon didn’t work? I wasn’t listening when you told me before.

Jake relaxed, forgetting he was pressed for time, and launched into a long explanation of what he needed in an ESSI site and the problems of getting a mostly conservative, small town to welcome a bunch of scientists.

As he began telling the story of arriving in Little Tree, Oregon, Tracy cut him off. Wow, Jake, I’m really glad you’re getting it all worked out, but if you’re going to make it to this Jenns Cove place in time, you’d probably better get going.

He looked at his watch, then nodded in agreement. You’re right. He stood, bent and kissed Tracy on the cheek. Thanks, sis. For everything. And I promise to ask someone out for coffee.

A woman! she called after him, catching the wiggle room in his version of the promise.

His only reply was a wave as he strode off down the block.

Chapter Two

The last time Lane Carstens had been in Jenns Cove was at the end of his junior year of high school. He’d been dumped there by Social Services after his mother’s death to live with his great-uncle, Conroy Jenns, his mother’s uncle and Lane’s last living relative.

Lane had spent five endless months in Jenns Cove trying to fit in and adapt to dairy-farm life on the outskirts of a small town full of suspicious-eyed people with wagging tongues. Sheer hell. Worst of all, it was a life full of restrictions Old Roy had tried to force on him. Where he could go and when. Who he could hang out with. By summer, he’d gotten so fed up he’d bolted, hitchhiking out of town and never looking back. Or, almost never.

Over the years, he’d contacted Roy now and then, throwing the old guy a bone by sending him a letter or postcard just to let the geezer know he was alive. Roy would send him money when times got hard, and there had been plenty of hard times. But hell, he was Roy’s only relative, so Lane figured the old guy owed him. It wasn’t like Old Roy couldn’t afford to help him out.

Now, all that was in the past. Times weren’t hard anymore. He was flush.

Lane leaned back into the soft leather seat of his flashy new Corvette. He felt better, taller, just sitting in the car as he whipped around the hairpin corners of Highway 128 heading north toward Mendocino. He wished it were summer so he could roll the window down, hang his arm out and feel the wind in his hair.

Since it was a friggin’ cold November day, he had the windows rolled tight, the heater blasting and the stereo cranked, playing metal tunes off his new smartphone. Bluetooth and surround sound all the way, baby! Fuck yeah!

New. That’s how he felt. He was heading back to Jenns Cove a new man, one who would command respect. Even the likes of Maggie Gallagher would take notice. He’d had such a crush on her growing up, but she’d never given him the time of day. Even when he’d swiped her backpack then brought it back, telling her he’d found it, she’d barely said thank you. She was like everyone else, suspicious of him because of his mother.

When he was a kid, whenever his mother hit one of her low spells, she’d head for Jenns Cove and drop him off with her uncle Roy before taking off for L.A. or San Francisco, stranding him for the summer in Podunk U.S.A. Once, during his first year of high school, she’d left him for nearly a year. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d ended up in jail for ten months. He’d spent part of the school year and most of the summer living on the farm with Roy and his son, who’d still been alive back then.

Lane remembered