Cranberry Bluff (11 page)

Sadie looked over the dessert menu at Eleanor’s. Not that she needed anything after the pasta she’d just finished, but the plans she’d been contemplating during the meal had triggered her sweet tooth. This was what they called emotional eating, wasn’t it? Eating when you weren’t hungry, but because you were upset, sad, angry, or, in this case, excited.

“Does anything look tempting?” the server asked.

“I really shouldn’t,” Sadie said, not because she meant it, but because it was a handy disclaimer when making a dessert decision.

“Everyone says that,” the server said. “But you’re on vacation. No calories!”

Sadie laughed. “OK, you talked me into it. I’ll have the white chocolate bread pudding with caramel sauce. It sounds delicious! Oh, and I’d like a cappuccino, please.”

“Both excellent choices.” The server returned to the kitchen.

The decision to have dessert was more about staying at the café. Being away from the inn seemed to clear her head. She was able to look at the situation from a distance. And she was pretty sure by now she knew what she saw.

Bryce and Susie knew each other, but didn’t want others to know they did. Why? That was the question. Clearly they hadn’t known each other would be there. The surprise on Susie’s face was obvious, even though it only lasted a split second. And though Sadie hadn’t seen Bryce’s face, his voice had altered just enough to show his surprise. Yet each one had snapped out of it instantly. That took practice. Good drama training might accomplish that, but the more she thought about it, the more certain Sadie was that she wasn’t the only detective at the inn.

Because of the suspicious way Bryce and Susie had behaved toward each other, Sadie smelled detective on both of them. If Susie was there to find Molly, then her husband was probably in on it, too. Or maybe not. Sadie hadn’t ever told Morris what she did beyond her work at the boutique.

Or maybe Susie and Dan
were
a team. That was the problem with this business. No one could ever be sure of anyone.

She closed her eyes as she listed the investigators: Bryce, Susie and possibly Dan. That would leave Mr. Miller as the only guest not involved in the case, which was easy to believe. Not only was he strange, but he kept to himself. He didn’t have an investigative bone in his body, as far as she could tell. He was hardly the breakfast conversationalist. Nothing seemed to interest him at all. Traveling salesman was Sadie’s best guess – insurance or something equally boring.

“Here you go.”

Lost in thought, Sadie was startled by the server’s arrival, but delighted when she saw the dessert plate slide in front of her. The bread pudding was a small portion, but every millimeter of it screamed “rich.” The caramel sauce crisscrossed the top like a sweet ribbon. It smelled heavenly.

“No calories, you promised, right?” Sadie asked.

“None whatsoever.” The server winked and moved on to greet a new table of guests.

Sadie dipped her fork into the bread pudding, carving off a caramel-covered bite. She slipped it between her lips and sighed. It was perfection – warm and sweet. She took a second bite and mulled over her recent thoughts.

Safety in numbers was sometimes a good thing, but, in this case, she doubted it. Only one person was going to get credit – or payment – for finding Molly. With several detectives around, it became a competition, which was a shame. She was rather fond of the other guests. Susie seemed like a sweet girl, though her husband was unimpressive. And Bryce, well, what was there not to like about him? He might as well have stepped out of a Cary Grant movie.

Both Susie and Bryce had believable stories, whether true or not. Susie certainly played the part of a young bride well. Dan was probably just along for the ride. And Bryce – a novelist? Yes, she could see that. Maybe he really was a novelist in his spare time. He wouldn’t be the first detective to have a second career going.

A third bite of bread pudding filled Sadie’s mouth as she thought over the coincidence of them being at the inn at the same time. She’d never joined forces with other detectives, always preferring to work on her own. This was a unique situation. It was possible she was the only one who had all the dots connected. Bryce and Susie almost certainly knew each other. Her powers of observation were keen. She rarely missed details, one benefit of working alone. It was easier to get distracted with others around. That had been an issue on occasion with Morris, who loved to travel. She’d usually been able to persuade him to let her go on an “independent woman’s trip,” in order to concentrate on assignments. Now and then, he’d gone along.

The challenge now was how to use the current situation to her advantage. She could stick to herself or maybe pull Susie under her wing. After all, the girl was young and would probably welcome the help. But that felt risky. Youth didn’t necessarily equal naivety. It would be wiser to keep her as a shopping partner. She could keep an eye on the young detective at the same time.

As she sipped her cappuccino, she turned her thoughts to Bryce. It might be worth confiding in him and working on the case together, if he agreed to team up. That was a tough call, though. For one thing, she could be wrong about him being a detective. And if she opened up about her own reason for being there, it could be awkward or dangerous or both. A better tactic would be to get him to open up first, which could be difficult if he was as experienced as she suspected. He would have had plenty of practice keeping his motives to himself. Still, if she could pull it off, joining forces with Bryce could be the best option.

Sadie ate the last of the bread pudding, resisting an uncouth urge to lick the plate. She finished the cappuccino, paid the bill and left the café, waving to a busy Eleanor on the way out.

Indulging in some window-shopping, she strolled down the main street, checking front displays for merchandise that she might have missed on her earlier shopping adventure. She gave herself credit for being thorough. She hadn’t missed much, though she noted a turquoise sweater that she might need to try on the next day.

One block from the bed and breakfast, the stores dropped behind her. A cold wind blew across an open field that separated the downtown shopping area from the inn. Without buildings to block the wind, the chilly evening temperature was registering. She picked up her pace. Almost to the inn, Sadie slowed down as she spotted a car pulling up in front. Stepping out of sight, she watched two figures get out of the car and enter the inn. Was she imagining it? No, she wasn’t. It was Molly and Bryce.

Sadie waited several minutes before entering the inn herself. She had too much running through her mind to risk conversation. She watched the light in the front, second floor room turn on, envious of Bryce’s accommodations. She’d asked for that room when she first called to make a reservation. The ocean view looked spectacular from the website photos.

Molly was nowhere in sight when Sadie stepped into the entry hall, exactly as she’d hoped. She eased the front door closed and went to her room for the night.

Susie stretched across the four-poster bed in the barn suite. She hated the old flannel pajamas that she brought on trips with Dan. They were dull and boring, but anything she could do to make him keep his hands to himself was worthwhile. On the positive side, they were comfortable – far more comfortable than some of the itchy lace she’d sported on occasion. And comfort was what she craved after topping off her honey-balsamic glazed salmon fillet at Ocean with chocolate espresso cheesecake.

It wasn’t difficult keeping him at arm’s length. He pushed constantly with verbal hints, but the lines were clear. Her black belt in karate didn’t hurt, either. Dan knew there was only so far he could push her before she’d let go with a vicious kick. She’d never had to use such tactics on him, but he knew she was capable. As far as she was concerned, it was one of the reasons he brought her on assignments with him. He was too much of a wimp to handle difficult situations by himself.

She, on the other hand, had been in plenty of tough spots. Moscow had been one such job. It was likely that her skill in fighting off a counterfeiter had been part of what drew Bryce to her. She’d rather attribute it to her more feminine charms, but she knew the truth. Men were attracted to power and strength as much as to pretty faces and sweet smiles.

She flipped through the pages of a fashion magazine, trying to distract herself from her new concern: Bryce. It was clear he had fooled everyone at the inn but her into believing he was just a wealthy novelist. He was an expert bluffer, would have made a great poker player. In fact, maybe he had been one at some point. He’d worked so many jobs; it was almost certain he’d been in gambling casinos while tracking people down.

Having him in Cranberry Cove posed a big problem. Now, not only did she need to find the money herself, she had to keep him from interfering. And that would be tricky. He was good at what he did – at everything he did, as she remembered too clearly. She tried not to think about those cold Moscow nights that were anything but cold with him around.

Her concentration was interrupted by the sound of Dan gargling in the bathroom. Really! Who gargled, anyway, much less when others could hear? Next he’d be out doing his evening stretches in the sitting area, reaching over his toes while outfitted in striped pajamas. Then he’d start on jumping jacks, as if he were in high school gym class. Finally, he’d pull out the sofa bed – he did know his place, after all – and read one of his old Sherlock Holmes books. It would likely be his fourth or fifth time through the same book. His routine bored her to tears. But it would be worth suffering with it once she got her hands on the money.

This was another disadvantage to having Bryce around. He was undoubtedly there to take Molly back to Tallahassee. But if he took her away immediately, the bed and breakfast would close and Susie’s hopes of finding the money would disappear. She needed to find it quickly.

She didn’t believe for a minute that the money wasn’t there, as Bryce had suggested. He really thought Molly was innocent? That was just like Bryce – getting blind-eyed when working on a case that involved a female. This bothered her, though there was no reason for it to. She’d gotten over their fling a long time ago. Still, it made her nervous that he seemed sure of Molly’s innocence. She hated to admit it, but he had good instincts. He was a success at his job, which meant it was possible she was wrong about the money. In that case, Dan would go away without a case solved, which wasn’t a big deal, not to her. But she’d go home empty-handed, with nothing in her pockets except memories of enduring another assignment with Dan. That wasn’t an outcome she was willing to accept.

Setting aside the magazine, she stared at the ceiling and tried to replay the security tape footage in her head: Molly at one teller’s window, the other figure at the next window, Molly, once up off the ground, leaving in one direction, the other figure running in the opposite direction. Chaos both inside and outside the bank made the tapes even more confusing. Aside from the visual clues, there were spoken and written clues from the news reports. Those couldn’t always be trusted, she reminded herself. Not the way the media twisted stories around. But the basic facts were there. Molly had been arrested shortly after the robbery and then released after analysis of the tapes indicated she wasn’t identical to the suspect. But that didn’t prove she didn’t have the money. It only proved they had no concrete evidence.

She felt sorry for the young woman, to tell the truth, now that she’d met her. She was a nice person, the kind a guy might take home to meet his mother or the kind that a girlfriend might go out with for tea. But Molly’s routine trips to the bank had made her an easy decoy. As they say, wrong place, wrong time – or right place, wrong time – or, whatever the saying was. Or was it actually right place, right time? Was Molly in on it from the start? Wouldn’t that be a twist?

That was something she hadn’t considered. In a backstabbing world, it was impossible to trust anyone. What a perfect decoy that would be – someone who seemed innocent, but was actually a cover for the crime. No, it was unlikely. Bryce could be right, as much as she hated to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Anything interesting up there on the ceiling,” Dan asked, as he came out of the bathroom. “You know, like clues or money or anything?”

“Very funny,” Susie said. “I don’t see you coming up with anything.”

“Well, if I could solve cases alone, I wouldn’t need to bring you with me,” Dan said, stretching his arms forward over his toes.

“You’d bring me, anyway.”

“True,” Dan admitted. “It’s just not the same out on the road without you.” He started in on the first of many jumping jacks.

“I agree,” Susie added, rolling over so she didn’t have to watch him. “It’s
not
the same without you.”

“We need… to come up…with something concrete…now that we’re here,” Dan said, sputtering words between jumps. “We tracked her….here, but…that doesn’t help…without proof.”

“Save your breath for your exercises,” Susie said. “I already know what you’re going to say. You’re not sure she’s the one with the missing money.”

“Yep,” Dan wheezed.

Susie sighed. “Well, I’m sure. I never would have agreed to come out to this hokey town if I hadn’t been convinced. But we need proof.”

“The money,” Dan said. “That’s the proof.” He paused and leaned forward, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “We need to find the money and turn her in.”

“Don’t worry,” Susie said. “I fully intend to find it.”

After she ran through the routine of preparing for the next morning’s breakfast, Molly took the cordless business phone with her into her room at the back of the inn just in case any of the guests needed anything during the night. Once she closed the door to her room, she felt weak from the relief of having time to herself. Her mind was reeling and her body begged for a hot shower and the comfort of her bed. She was mentally and physically exhausted. Tossing a nightshirt on the bed, she disrobed, turned on the shower and stepped under the steaming water. She leaned forward to let the heat soak into her neck and shoulders and let her thoughts wander.

She didn’t know how to process what Bryce had told her. The revelation in the kitchen had been so unexpected, she could barely follow it. Her first thought was to run, but it wasn’t rational. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Besides, she was done running. Aunt Maggie had given her a second chance and she was determined to make it work. If trusting a stranger was going to help, she needed to force herself to do so.

They had chosen the coffee shop on the outskirts of town as a place to continue the kitchen conversation without being overheard. It was a much less popular place than the trendy restaurants and cafés that had been popping up all over town. The run down eatery had few customers so it was more private than other establishments. With only one cook in the kitchen and the server plugged into her iPod, they could talk freely without worry of discovery.

Certainly other situations might have made for a nicer evening out with Bryce – a candlelit dinner at an ocean side bistro or a stroll along the beach, for example. But it was what it was. Without the bank robbery fiasco forcing her to focus, Molly doubted she’d be able to concentrate around Bryce. The silver lining to the whole mess was that Bryce’s matter-of-fact attitude helped relax her.

She’d always known someone might follow her across the country. Moving to Cranberry Cove was never about going into hiding, but was simply about leaving the stress of Tallahassee behind. The media had backed off and the police had cleared her. She’d even half-believed them when they said the threatening letters were only a prank. The break-in at her apartment could have been a foolish teenage joke. But it didn’t matter. Her calm, uneventful life had been over as soon as she’d become part of the news.

The bed and breakfast had provided a respite from the chaos of her life in Florida, though she always knew deep down that the mess wasn’t over. But she hadn’t expected bed and breakfast guests to be part of the ordeal. A phone call from the Tallahassee police, maybe. A request for another written statement, maybe. But not someone posing as a guest and then blindsiding her with the story that Bryce had laid out for her.

Molly stepped out of the shower with more questions than answers. Although the hot water had relaxed her body, it did nothing to soothe her mind. She towel dried her hair, put on the nightshirt, climbed into bed and picked up a book from her nightstand. But she couldn’t read. Her brain wouldn’t stop running through the events of the evening. She turned off the light, hoping the softness of her pillow might lull her to sleep. It didn’t work.

She threw on a robe, went to the kitchen and put water on to boil. A cup of Chamomile tea sometimes did the trick when she couldn’t sleep. It had worked back in college when she was under the pressure of final exams. It had worked at times when the activity level at the ad agency had been high and she found herself going over work tasks at home. It was worth a try.

Late nights in the kitchen alone always provided a break from stress. It was unusual for guests to leave their rooms at night. Either they had already turned in or were still out for late dinners or, if on a weekend, the occasional concerts that were offered at the town’s art center. The dimmed dining room lights usually sent them upstairs as soon as they returned to the inn. After-hour solitude in the inn’s back area was one of the perks of business ownership. For exactly this reason, she gasped as she turned back to exit the kitchen and found Bryce standing in the door.

“Sheesh!” she exclaimed. “Do you always make dramatic entrances like this?” The hot tea sloshed over the side of her mug and onto her hand. She moved it to the other hand and shook the one that had been holding it.

Bryce crossed the kitchen and grabbed a towel, turning back to hand it to her. Since dinner, he’d rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. Molly took in the tanned skin of his forearms and the glimmer of light that bounced off his watch. She paused long enough for Bryce to approach and wrap the towel around her hand.

“I apologize,” Bryce said. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I was worried. I know everything we talked about came as a shock.”

“I’d call that an understatement,” Molly managed. Her surprise at finding him in the doorway had eased and she was beginning to feel calmed by his presence. It was an odd sensation, being calmed by someone who brought troubling news.

“You look cute, by the way,” Bryce added.

Molly cringed, suddenly recalling her tussled, wet hair, nightshirt and bathrobe. All she needed was a pair of bunny slippers to match Susie’s and the look would be complete.

“Very funny,” Molly said.

“I’m serious,” Bryce said. His smile was genuine. Again, Molly felt calmer. There was something about him that set her nerves at ease.

“Have some tea, as long as you’re down here,” Molly said. “I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes it helps.” She moved to the counter and started to pull a mug out of the cupboard.

“I’m more of a coffee drinker, myself,” Bryce said, “but don’t fix any. It keeps me awake at night.”

“Decaf, maybe,” Molly offered, holding the mug up as a question.

Bryce shook his head. “I have a secret stash of brandy in my room. That’s more my type of evening drink. Would you like some? I hear it goes well with tea.”

“You’re making that up,” Molly said.

“Yes, I am,” Bryce laughed. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Molly paused, impulse getting the better of her. “You know, I think I might just have some.” What would it hurt? Everything was so confusing already there was no point in trying to keep her regular evening routine.

“I’ll be right back, in that case,” Bryce said. He left the room and returned shortly with a bottle of Courvoisier VSOP.

“You have good taste, I see,” Molly said. She reached into a far cabinet and pulled out a snifter.

“Ah, you’re a brandy type of girl after all,” he teased.

“No,” Molly admitted. “I’m more of a Chamomile tea girl, as you see. But the execs at the job I had in Tallahassee did a lot of entertaining. I kept the in-office bar stocked with their clients’ favorite drinks.”

“You were a regular at Wine and Spirits, right? Twice a month? You usually checked out with a delightful young lady named Ruth who shared your love of Jane Austen novels. And Chardonnay.”

Bryce smiled at Molly’s shocked expression. “I followed your trail before I came to California. It’s what I do.”

Molly sighed, exasperated. “Do you know everything about me?”

“More than you’d like me to know, I imagine,” Bryce said. “But not as much as I’d like to.”

Was he flirting? Was it a work-related comment? Maybe it was both. Molly was intrigued, flattered and nervous, all at once.

Molly watched as Bryce poured an inch of brandy into the snifter. She didn’t stop him when he added brandy to her mug, as well.

“Not too much,” Molly cautioned. “I do have to serve breakfast in the morning.”

“Ah,” Bryce said. “What are we having?” He smiled as he toasted her mug of tea and lifted the snifter of brandy to his lips. Molly could sense his suppressed laughter.

“Dry toast and prunes.” Molly smirked.

“My favorite,” Bryce answered. There was an unmistakable gleam in his eye.

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, then,” Molly said, shaking her head. “That’s what we have on Sundays for brunch. Tomorrow you’re stuck with raspberry French toast, fresh-squeezed juice, cranberry applesauce, lemon-poppy muffins and cranberry nut bread.”

“My loss,” Bryce threw back. “Good thing I’m here for a week. I get to try all your specialty dishes, dry toast and prunes included.”

Great, Molly thought. It was enough that she was wrapped up in the bank robbery again. But the man who was working to help her clear her name was attractive and
flirting
with her. This could be trouble.

It had been two years since her last relationship, and that had ended badly. She blamed herself, having broken her rule of not getting involved with clients. Why the marketing director for the small coffee roasting company had gotten the better of her, she wasn’t sure except that she had a weakness for men with smooth moves who seemed sincere.

Like the one who sat across from her now.

She’d been fortunate that her bosses had never realized she’d been seeing the client. When she ended the relationship – and he ended the business association with the company – he’d simply blamed it on his company’s budget. It was a classy move, she had to admit. Still, it kept her from dating for a while. And then the bank robbery chaos happened. Since then, dating had been the last thing on her mind.

Molly turned her attention back to Bryce, who was quietly watching her. Again he lifted the brandy snifter to his lips, still not saying a word.

“I just wish this whole thing would blow over,” Molly said. “The police were satisfied I wasn’t involved. They haven’t even contacted me since I’ve been in Cranberry Cove.”

“That only means they couldn’t prove anything,” Bryce said. “Lack of evidence, that type of thing.”

“Great!” Molly exclaimed. “Now you think I did it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Bryce said. “I’m just pointing out the police perspective. Look at it from the crooks’ viewpoint, too. They’ve gotten away with crimes in the past. They know it’s possible to fool the police.”

“I don’t understand why anyone would suspect me, anyway,” Molly said. “I’m just a plain, everyday girl who was working an everyday job.”

“Not so plain,” Bryce said. He swirled his brandy around in the snifter and smiled.

“Flattery will get you nowhere with this,” Molly said, though she felt herself blush. “Besides, getting back to the subject, there were plenty of other people in the bank that day. Why suspect me? Why not go chasing the others down?”

“Molly, we’ve been over this already,” Bryce said. “It’s pretty clear why the attention has been directed at you.”

Molly was on the verge of yelling, but kept her voice low, remembering there were guests in the inn. “I know – they stalked me, knew my schedule, planned it to make it look like I did it. But that should make it even more obvious that I wasn’t involved.”

“Or…all the better for your cover,” Bryce said. “You could have been in on it from the beginning, planned it with the thief.”

“That is just insane,” Molly said.

“You’re going to have to think like a criminal in order to get out of this,” Bryce said.

“No,
you
are going to have to think like a criminal,” Molly said. “
You
tracked me down here.
You
get me out of this.”

Molly dropped her head into her hands. When she looked up, Bryce was smiling again.

“What?”

“Your hair is dripping on the table,” he said.

“Now you’re going to tell me you have a weakness for wet hair?” Molly said. “You know, like some men like blondes and others like brunettes?”

“I’m an equal opportunity hair admirer,” Bryce countered.

“How do you live like this?” Molly said. “Always suspicious, never trusting anyone.”

“It’s just part of the job. If I trust anyone completely, I rule out options. Once that happens, I risk overlooking possibilities, which makes it harder to solve cases.”

“I wouldn’t want to look at life that way,” Molly said. “I need to believe that people are good - innocent until proven guilty. Like
me
, for one perfect example!”

“Yes, like you.”

“I just want this all to go away. I don’t understand why this keeps coming back to haunt me,” Molly said.

“I know. And I do believe you’re innocent,” Bryce said. “We’ll figure this out.” He poured another snifter of brandy and started to add more to Molly’s tea. She shook her head to stop him and stood up.

“I can’t think about it anymore tonight,” Molly said. “It’s already late and I do have to serve breakfast in the morning.”

“Dry toast and prunes?” Bryce laughed as he stood and picked up his brandy.

“If you insist.” Molly smiled as she pointed to the door.