Cranberry Bluff

by Deborah Garner

  “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.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sadie was the first to arrive at breakfast in the morning, gussied up in an ankle-length lilac skirt and purple tunic with rhinestones on the sleeves. A white velour band with matching rhinestones stretched across her forehead. She poured a mug of coffee at the side buffet and took a seat at the table as Molly entered the room.

  “I approve of the flower arrangement, Molly – it matches my outfit. I’ve always loved purple and white together. And snapdragons with carnations – what a sweet mix!” Sadie added creamer to her coffee and watched Molly place a basket of lemon-poppy muffins at one end of the table and a tray of cranberry nut bread at the other. She grabbed a muffin immediately. “These are still warm – how divine! I may have to eat them all myself.”

  “That’s one advantage of being the first one to breakfast.” Molly smiled, but her voice lacked the enthusiasm of someone wide awake.

  “Are you feeling ok, dear?” Sadie asked.

  Before Molly could answer, Bryce arrived. His khaki slacks and blue button-down shirt gave him a business-like appearance. His hair was still damp from a morning shower. A scent of pine and spice followed him into the room.

  “Good morning, Bryce,” Sadie said. “I was just asking Molly if she was feeling OK.” She turned her attention back to Molly. “Are you, dear?”

  Bryce answered for her. “I imagine it can be a handful taking care of a group of guests.”

  “Yes, it can be,” Molly answered, looking at Bryce with a pointed expression. “But I love it,” she added quickly, directing the additional comment toward Sadie. “And I feel fine, don’t worry. I’m just a bit tired.”

  Sadie reached for a basket of muffins and handed them to Bryce.

  “Try one, they’re delicious!”

  “Gladly.” Bryce reached into the basket and took a muffin, placing it on a bread plate.

  “You must get up very early to bake t
hese,” Sadie said to Molly before turning back to Bryce. “Put some raspberry jam on that.” She waved her hand in the direction of a bowl of preserves. “It’s a perfect blend of flavors, the lemon and raspberry.”

  “Did someone say raspberries?” Susie sashayed into the room, her ponytail as bouncy as the ruffled skirt she wore. Firm, tan legs stretched from the skirt’s hem down to a pair of tan flats. Sadie guessed she’d been a high school cheerleader, maybe even homecoming queen. Susie was exactly the kind of girl she’d envied in school.

  “Raspberry jam, not raspberries,” Sadie said, “but just as delicious. You must try some on these muffins – wonderful!”

  “Good morning, Susie,” Bryce said. Sadie studied the expression on Susie’s face. She didn’t seem overjoyed to see him. Perhaps she’d thought she could slide in and out for breakfast before he arrived, just as she’d done the day before.

  “Where is that lucky fellow,” Bryce continued, “the new husband?”

  “Right behind me,” Susie said, just as Dan stepped into the room.

  “Dan, you know Sadie from yesterday morning,” Susie said. “But you haven’t met Bryce.” She turned what seemed like an exaggerated smile toward Bryce.

  “Bryce, this is my husband, Dan.”

  Bryce leaned forward, extending his hand toward Dan. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. Dan returned the handshake politely.

  Watching the interaction, Sadie felt certain that Bryce and Dan were meeting for the first time. But Bryce and Susie’s reactions to each other still seemed more familiar than new acquaintances.

  Molly brought a pitcher of fresh-squeezed juice from the kitchen and set it in the middle of the table, a bowl of cranberry applesauce along with it. “You must have all coordinated your breakfast times,” Molly said, a light tilt to her voice.

  Susie laughed. “Not really!” She chose the seat next to Bryce. Dan sat on her other side. “Just a coincidence. There are so many unexpected coincidences in life.” She turned toward Bryce and smiled. “Don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely,” Bryce countered. His smile was less forced than Susie’s. If the two were playing a cat and mouse game, he was winning. Dan seemed oblivious. He stood, reached for the pitcher of juice and poured two glasses.

  Molly, on the other hand, had paused at Susie’s comment about coincidence. Sadie was growing more and more convinced that there were several scenarios playing out at the table. The trick was to figure out what they were.

  “Everyone OK with French toast?” Molly asked.

  “Sounds delicious!” Sadie exclaimed. “And we have everyone here…no, that’s wrong. You have one more guest staying here – the quiet man from yesterday morning.”

  “Mr. Miller,” Susie said. “Charlie Miller.”

  “You have a good memory, dear,” Sadie said. “I hardly remembered that Mr. Miller had a first name.”

  “I have a better memory than you think,” Susie replied. The odd comment was as strange and out of place as Susie’s glance toward Bryce.

  “Memory can be faulty, you know,” Bryce said. “I backpacked in Europe, back in college one summer. It was all the rage, you know?”

  He paused to smile at Sadie, who nodded, remembering doing the same thing, although years before Bryce.

  “I remember it fondly now,” Bryce continued, “perhaps from the viewpoint of missing the ‘good old days.’ But the reality was that the trip wasn’t all that glamorous – finding a hostel for the night, counting change to pick up soup or bread at a corner café. I don’t think I had a warm enough jacket – things like that.”

  “Oh, yes,” Sadie jumped in. “I did the same thing. Got stuck in the rain one night in Belgium when I missed a bus, had to walk three miles to get back to the hostel. But, like you said, I remember that time as being wonderful.”

  “My point being…” Bryce paused to sip his coffee. “…that what we remember isn’t the complete picture. Our memory holds onto what it wants to and discards the rest.”

  “Meaning what, exactly,” Susie asked. Sadie thought her voice a bit sharp.

  “Meaning the past redefines itself over time,” Bryce said. “What we remember isn’t always accurate.”

  Molly brought two plates of French toast from the kitchen. Fresh raspberries and powdered sugar dusted the hot entrée. A serving of scrambled eggs accompanied the dish. She set the plates in front of Sadie and Susie and returned to the kitchen, bringing two more servings out for Bryce and Dan.

  “Butter and syrup are in the middle of the table,” Molly said.

  “The sweeter the better,” Bryce said. He reached for the syrup immediately, offering it first to Sadie and then to Susie.

  Sadie didn’t miss the smile he flashed Molly. Neither did she miss Susie’s frown. Or the look that Dan sent to Susie. It was like watching a chain of dominoes.

  “Isn’t Mr. Miller joining us this morning?” Dan asked.

  “He called down to say he’d be skipping breakfast,” Molly said. She picked up the breadbasket and headed to the kitchen to refill it with muffins.

  “But how could anyone resist this French toast?” Sadie was in heaven, already three bites into the serving. “I might need some of your recipes if they’re not secret.”

  “No problem,” Molly laughed as she called over her shoulder. “You’ll get a recipe book full of Cranberry Cottage favorites when you check out. And a few dishes from Eleanor’s, too. There aren’t any recipe secrets around here.”

  Sadie was sure she heard Dan whisper to Susie, “Just other kinds.” Susie shot him a warning look before switching back to her usual sweet smile and looking at Bryce. Sadie focused on a dripping forkful of French toast and syrup. What on earth was going on between the three guests?

  “Any plans for shopping today?” Sadie directed the question to Susie, hoping to break the tension in the room.

  “Maybe that shoe store a couple streets up,” Susie said. “I saw some great boots in the front window – ankle height with three buckles up the side.”

  “Yes!” Sadie exclaimed. “I saw those, too. They have them in three colors – black, tan and charcoal.”

  “I’d love a pair of the black…no, make that tan. They’re soft and would go with pale colors,” Susie said. “Like a camelhair coat in a snow storm, don’t you think? Sort of Dr. Zhivago-ish?”

  Bryce cleared his throat and took another bite of French toast.

  “I have no interest in shopping, do you, Bryce?” Dan said.

  “None whatsoever,” Bryce said. “A woman’s hobby, I think.”

  “Now, now, you seem like a liberated type,” Sadie laughed. “I bet you said that to tease us.”

  “Yes, I certainly did,” Bryce said, though he winked at Dan, who ignored him and took a last bite of breakfast, clearly finding Bryce’s gesture annoying. In fact, he seemed to find everything about Bryce annoying.

  “Are you done, sweetheart?” Susie set down her fork as she spoke. She looked at Dan brightly. It was clear that Susie expected Dan to be finished when she was.

  “Yes, dear,” Dan replied. He stood, pushed his chair in and pulled Susie to her feet. Susie’s smile faltered briefly as Dan slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close against him.

  “Maybe some shops later?” Sadie said. “We could hit that shoe store, if you want.”

  “Sounds great.” Susie said a polite goodbye to Bryce and thanked Molly for breakfast. Hand in hand, the couple left the room to return to the barn suite.

  Sadie reached for the tray of cranberry nut bread and offered it to Bryce. He waved it away, indicating that he was full.

  “It’s none of my business, of course,” Sadie said, “but those two seem mismatched to me. He’s a quiet sort of guy and she’s more…adventurous is the best description, I think – outgoing, alive.”

  Bryce smiled, but didn’t respond. Molly circled the table, refilling both Sadie and Bryce’s coffee mugs and removing the plates that Susie and Dan had left.

&
nbsp; “Well, young love, new love, what can I say,” Sadie sighed. “Those days are long gone for me. I can barely remember that far back.”

  “Now, Sadie,” Bryce said. “It hasn’t been that many years. And, besides, I bet you can remember plenty about those times.”

  “Aren’t you full of flattery,” Sadie said. “But, you’re right, I do remember those days. Seems they weren’t that long ago, though I know they were.”

  “What is one favorite memory, Sadie?” Bryce sat back in his chair, his right hand curled around his coffee mug.

  Sadie waited while Molly removed their plates and then leaned back with her coffee, thinking over her answer.

  “How far back do you want me to go?”

  “As far as you want,” Bryce said.

  “Now that you have me thinking about it, I don’t have to go back all that far,” Sadie said. “I have many wonderful memories of times with my late husband, Morris. But one that stands out is a charity dance we attended in San Francisco. It wasn’t long before he died. He called me one day – from another room in our house, mind you – and asked me out on a date. Those were his exact words. ‘Will you go out on a date with me tonight?’ It was a cool evening and I wore a green velvet dress that I hadn’t worn in years. He greeted me at the front door with a wrist corsage, and we went out to dinner and then danced. There was a marvelous band playing our favorite swing music from the forties.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Bryce said.

  “Yes, it was.” Sadie grew quiet, wrapped up in reliving the memory. “We didn’t know at that time that he’d be gone soon. At least I didn’t. He was always quiet about doctor visits. He had that live day-to-day philosophy. In any case, it was an enchanting evening, one that I’ll never forget.”

  Sadie stood and set her coffee mug on the table, the rhinestones on her sleeves sparkling as the sunlight streamed through the window.

  “Thank you for inspiring me to think about it again.”

  “You’re welcome,” Bryce said, also standing up. “Memories are good to have.”