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Authors: Deborah Garner

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BOOK: Cranberry Bluff
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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Sadie sat across from Bryce at Eleanor’s, reading the daily lunch specials. Seven days of the week, seven different specials. All looked delicious, as did everything on the regular menu.

“Ah, the Southwestern Salad, that’s it for me,” Sadie said, setting the menu on the edge of the table. “Chopped lettuce, black beans, diced tomatoes, avocado, corn, tortilla strips and cheddar cheese. Can’t go wrong with that combination. Makes me want to head back to Santa Fe. Always loved the food there. Just might make that my next trip.”

Bryce set his menu on top of hers. “The French Dip is tempting, but I’m going with Eleanor’s Rueben, since you recommended it so highly.”

“Room for one more?”

“Eleanor, so glad you’re here!” Sadie said. She motioned for the café owner to join them. “This is Bryce; he’s staying at Cranberry Cottage, too. I was hoping you two might meet.”

“Glad to meet you, Bryce,” Eleanor said, taking the offered seat. “How do you like our quaint town?”

“It’s full of little surprises,” Bryce said, smiling.

“Yes, indeed,” Sadie beamed. “You never know what you might find in a small town. Like this gentleman right here, for example, who is…working on a novel, isn’t that right?” Sadie gestured toward Bryce, who simply nodded.

“Is that so?” Eleanor smiled. “I’ve thought about writing a book myself, though it would be a cookbook. My friends keep bugging me to put one together.”

“Well, I’m not surprised, with everything I’ve been hearing about this place. I’m glad Sadie finally dragged me here.” Bryce paused as a server stopped by and took their order.

“Good choices, both of you,” Eleanor said. “That salad is delicious with the cilantro-lime dressing and the Reuben is a local favorite.” She paused, seeing the restaurant hostess signaling to her from the front. “Excuse me a moment. That must be Casey,” she said as she stood up and headed to the front of the restaurant.

“Who is Casey?” Bryce leaned back in his chair, paying only minor attention to his question.

“Eleanor’s husband,” Sadie answered. “He owns the local hardware store. Nice man. He’s probably picking up food to go. I think she makes him a lunch every day that he can take back to work.”

“A good wife.” Bryce smiled. “And an advantage of having a restaurant in the family, within walking distance, no less.”

The conversation paused as their meals arrived. Bryce’s eyes widened as he took in the hefty sandwich and accompanying fries. He grinned and nodded his head in approval. Sadie wasted no time pouring dressing over her salad and spearing the fresh greens with her fork. Bryce followed suit and took a bite of his sandwich.

Eleanor returned to the table, taking a seat and smiling. “I see you’re enjoying your meals.”

“How could we not, Eleanor?” Sadie said, stabbing another forkful of salad. “Everything here is addictive. Obviously your husband thinks so. I see you’re still fixing his lunches.”

“Of course I am,” Eleanor said. “He works hard. We both do. Anything we can do to help each other out, we do. It’s convenient we have the restaurant. He doesn’t have to close up to get something to eat, yet he gets a chance to get away for a few minutes when he picks up lunch.”

“And you get to see him midday, as well,” Sadie pointed out. She poured extra dressing on the salad with a flourish.

“Not normally,” Eleanor said. “He usually picks it up at the hostess stand on his own. I make sure it’s ready ahead of time, in case we’re busy.”

“But today?” Sadie said.

“Sometimes when Casey sees that it isn’t too busy, he’ll have the hostess get my attention, and he’ll tell me little stories about his customers. He wanted to share a strange encounter he had,” Eleanor said.

Bryce’s eyebrows lifted. “Strange? In a bad way?”

Eleanor shook her head. “No, not in a bad way. Just weird. A man came into the store, browsing the aisles slowly. Bought a couple of tackle boxes.”

“How is that weird?” Sadie asked. “You must have fishing in this area. There’s a whole ocean just down the street.”

“Casey said he didn’t seem like the fisherman type,” Eleanor said.

“Maybe they were a gift?” Bryce took another bite of the Reuben, turning it sideways to keep sauerkraut from spilling out.

“Maybe,” Eleanor said. “Casey just thought he was a bit odd. Must have been a guest somewhere, said he was checking out soon.”

Sadie and Bryce exchanged glances.

“What did he look like?” Sadie set her fork down and took a sip of iced tea.

Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. “Short, glasses, not very friendly, almost rude – that’s how Casey described him.”

“Sounds like one of the guests at Cranberry Cottage,” Sadie said. “A Mr. Miller. Quiet, keeps to himself. I saw him loading his car when I walked over here, so he must have been getting ready to check out.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Eleanor said, standing up. “He just gave Casey the creeps. Anyway, I’ll let you finish your meal in peace. I need to see how dinner prep is going.” She pushed in her chair and returned to the kitchen.

“What do you think?” Bryce asked Sadie as he pushed his plate away in surrender.

“Nothing, really,” Sadie said. “He’s a strange man, but I don’t think buying tackle boxes is that weird. Maybe he’s planning to take a couple of sons on a fishing trip in the future?”

“Sons?” Sadie laughed. “There’s nothing about that man that says ‘married’ to me.”

“Nephews, then,” Bryce proposed. “Or maybe he goes fishing by himself and likes to be overly prepared.”

Sadie agreed. “He does seem that type, a bit on the obsessive side.” She set down her fork and moved her salad plate to the side of the table.

“Now, about Molly,” Sadie continued.

The server removed the plates from the table, took them to the kitchen and returned with two small scoops of cranberry sorbet, each in a miniature crock and matching saucer.

“Homemade, compliments of Eleanor,” the server said, setting a check for the rest of the meal on the table.

“Oh, my, what a delightful surprise! Tell her thank you!” Sadie wasted no time digging in.

“So, back to Molly,” Bryce said after the server walked away. Sadie caught the softness in his voice.

“You’re smitten,” Sadie grinned.

“Smitten – what an old-fashioned word, Sadie.” Bryce tasted the sorbet, raising his eyebrows in approval.

“Now, now, young man,” Sadie said. “I’m old and I’m fashioned, but I’d hardly say I’m old fashioned.”

Bryce laughed. “You’ve got me there. But, you’re right. I suppose I’m ‘smitten,’ as you say. Beyond that, I’m convinced she had nothing to do with the bank robbery, not before, not after. Still, we have no way to prove it. I’m running out of time to report back to
Binky
and we haven’t identified another suspect
or
found any money.”

Sadie smiled; she hadn’t missed Bryce’s exaggerated use of her first husband’s nickname. “What do you suggest?” She slipped a final spoonful of sorbet into her mouth.

“Finding both would be nice.”

“Yes, it would. But, whatever happens, don’t worry about
Binky
,” Sadie agreed, imitating Bryce’s exaggeration of the name. “He trusts my judgment, plus I have decades of experience getting him to back off. If I say she’s not guilty, he’ll believe me.”

Both stood. “My treat,” Bryce said, leaving a couple of crisp bills alongside the check. Sadie waved a thank you to Eleanor, who was talking with another customer.

Bryce held the front door open as they stepped outside. “I’m heading back to the inn to pretend to work on the book I’m not writing. I’ll walk back with you.”

“I have a few stops to make first,” Sadie said.

“Let me guess…shopping?” Bryce laughed.

“What else? That and I’d like to drop into Casey’s for a minute,” Sadie said. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The barn suite was empty when Susie stepped in, which was a relief. It was about time that good-for-nothing fake husband of hers stopped being lazy. Hopefully he’d gone into town to buy her something. It was one advantage of the sickening crush he maintained – trinkets he’d pick up as attempts to draw her closer. As if that were even possible! But she had mentioned some earrings at one Cranberry Cove shop that she hadn’t been able to lift the day before. He’d probably gone back to get them for her. She smiled. At least there were some perks to having him around.

She took advantage of having the suite to herself, running a hot bath in the Jacuzzi tub and adding lavender bath oils that the inn provided. Slipping out of her clothing, she slid into the fragrant water. The leisurely soak relaxed her and, for a moment, she almost felt she was on vacation. She could get used to living like this – aside from the dinky town and having to put up with Dan. Pulling a fashion magazine from a bath-side table, she flipped through the pages, pausing to admire a full-page jewelry ad. Emerald earrings, gold bangles with channel set diamonds, and a dangling pendant with a pearl drop ruby – all perfectly sized to fit in a pocket. How delightful! Magazine shoplifting was almost as fun as the real thing.

She set the magazine aside, stepped out of the bath and toweled off. Deciding against a cream colored sweater and matching slacks – after all, the tool shed wasn’t exactly pristine – she pulled on a pair of rhinestone-studded jeans and a black designer sweatshirt, hesitating over her favorite heels. Flats were more suitable for this task. She slipped into a brown pair that wouldn’t show dirt easily.

Her suitcase was always packed full when she traveled. Better to be over-prepared than under, she figured. And this time the excess had made it easy to carry extra make-up bags, the kind that could be purchased at any drug store. The ones she’d brought along featured prints that she could barely tolerate, but they’d serve their purpose. Had Dan noticed them, he would have simply thought they were for her expanding jewelry collection. She pulled two from the suitcase, tucked them under one arm and headed out.

The tool shed looked exactly as she’d left it an hour before, the latch tightly pressed against the wooden doors. She glanced in each direction. She’d have to work quickly, but it wouldn’t take long to fill the cosmetic bags. She needed to leave enough to make sure Molly was caught, but she could take most of it. After all, any amateur thief would have spent a good part of it by now. It was just one more reason that Molly deserved to be caught. That never should have been Molly’s money to begin with.

Susie pulled the latch aside and opened the tool shed. It was all coming together now, finally. All the mix-ups, all the role-playing, and all the patience it had taken to deal with Dan. These hassles would be over for good. Just a few more steps and she could solve the case, turn enough of the money in to cover her tracks and be done with the whole disaster.

Bending down to retrieve the box, she gasped. No, it wasn’t possible! The space behind the bag of potting soil had been well hidden when she’d left, yet was empty. Frantic, she pulled each bag away from the shed’s back wall, wondering if she’d confused the location. It was no use. The box with the money was gone.

Panicked, she shoved the bags back into the shed. Had Molly caught on? Had she seen Susie discover the box and then moved the money to a different hiding place? There was no way she was going to let that opportunistic office girl get away with the money. She slammed the door, not bothering to latch it. Furious, she stormed back to the barn suite.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Dan was seated on the couch when Susie flew through the door. He jumped up and turned toward her with a grin, but pulled back at the sight of her furious expression.

“What’s wrong?” Dan said.

Susie crossed the room, did an about-face and crossed again, beating her fist against her forehead as she paced. Dan frowned. She only exhibited this gesture under extreme stress. He remained quiet. Some kind of tantrum was bound to follow.

Susie wracked her brain, trying to think of a way to explain the situation without giving herself away. She’d tagged along with him to Cranberry Cove on the pretense of catching Molly. She might as well keep playing that story line. If nothing else, it would buy her more time to track the money down.

“I…,” Susie started, trying to settle down enough to keep her story straight. “I’m just frustrated. I was sure I’d…stumbled upon proof that Molly was guilty, but I was wrong. You know I hate being wrong.”

She threw herself down on the couch, buried her head in her hands and took a deep breath. Maybe he would go fetch a glass of wine if the inn had it out already. She grabbed her cell phone and checked the time. Damn, she thought. Another twenty minutes. She could use a generous goblet of Pinot Noir right then – or two or three, for that matter.

“It’s OK,” Dan said. “I was going to say…”

Susie snapped her head up and cut him off.

“Don’t patronize me,” she shouted, then lowered her voice quickly. Things were bad enough without blowing their newlywed cover. She needed to keep her temper under control. “It’s not OK.”

“But it
is
OK,” Dan repeated, a huge grin plastered across his face. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I’ve solved the case!”

A dread filled Susie’s gut.

“What do you mean, you solved the case?” she said.

Dan looked like he was about to burst with pride. The knot in Susie’s mid-region tightened. He dropped to his knees in front of her, so they were at eye level. For the first time, the thought that he was about to propose was not her worst fear.

“I found the money!” Dan whispered. He looked over his shoulder, a gesture Susie found ridiculous in their private suite.

“You found
what
?” Susie tried to juggle the thoughts that hit at the same time: How had he found it? Where was it now? How could she portion some off before they turned it in? Had he counted it?

“I found the money,” Dan repeated. “That was the evidence we needed to turn Molly in. Don’t you see? This is a big score for us – the prestige, not to mention the reward money.”

Maybe a big score for you, Susie thought to herself. That reward was peanuts compared to what she planned to get. She mulled over a course of action, hoping to steer Dan in a direction that would work in her favor.

“OK,” she said. “Let’s figure out a plan. Where did you put the money?”

Dan stood up, looking puzzled. “Don’t you want to know where I found it?”

“Of course I do!” Susie was sure her voice was overly enthusiastic. Forgetting to ask where he found it was a careless slip. A calmer partner would have caught that. She needed to keep in control or she’d blow the whole deal.

“You won’t believe it,” Dan said. “It was in a shed around the far side of the building. I was trying to find a replacement bulb for that pathway light. She had it stored in a toolbox, of all things! Or maybe it was a tackle box. It did look like my Uncle Jim’s box that he takes on fishing trips, come to think of it.”

“Wow, she hid it in a tool shed!” Susie forced herself to speak slowly. “Go figure.” She shook her head, counted to three and returned to her previous question.

“OK, so where did you put it? We need to make sure it’s safe until we turn it in.”

Susie waited for an answer, but Dan just grinned. The knot in her stomach began to twist again.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about it being safe,” Dan said. “I went directly to the police and turned it in.”

“You did WHAT?” Susie shouted, jumping up and grabbing Dan’s shirt with her fists. “You are such an imbecile! What am I going to tell Al?”

Dan pulled back and stared at her, eyes wide.

“What is the matter with you?” he said. “Of course I turned it in to the police. What else would I do with it? That’s the whole reason we came here – to find the money, turn it in and prove the innkeeper is guilty! And…who’s Al?”

Susie let go of Dan’s shirt, thrusting him backward as she stormed out of the suite. She headed directly for the kitchen of the inn, bursting in through the side door. Molly whirled around in shock as Susie flew across the room, her finger pointed in Molly’s face. Slices of cheese slid off a plate that Molly was holding and fell on the floor.

“You!” she hissed. “You thought you’d get away with this!”

“What are you talking about?” Molly stammered.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” Susie said. “You should have stayed down when I told you to. That was my job, not yours! Did Al put you up to this to begin with? Having me follow your schedule, match your outfit, go to the window next to yours…I can’t believe he did this to me, after all I’ve done for him – and
YOU
, an amateur!”

“What?” Molly’s face turned pale as the pieces came together. She looked over Susie’s shoulder, causing Susie to spin around.

“Really,
Susie
,” Bryce said from the back kitchen table, his voice calm. “And
YOU
, a pro, losing your cool like this. Not something Sonja would do.”

Susie gasped, one hand flying up to cover her mouth.

“Now, now, temper, temper. That’s a fatal flaw in our business, my dear. You should know better,” Bryce said.

“Who’s Sonja?” Molly said.

Dan burst through the side door, repeating his question from the barn suite conversation.

“Who’s Al?” he said.

“Sonja will explain, Dan,” Bryce said.

Dan turned toward the table, seeing Bryce for the first time since entering the kitchen.

“Who’s Sonja?” Dan said.

“Your fake wife,” Bryce answered.

“What?
Susie
is my fake wife,” Dan shouted. “Er…I mean, my wife.”

“Fake wife?” Molly said. “I thought you guys were newlyweds.”

“Shut up,” Susie shouted at Molly. “In fact, all of you shut up. I’m done with this whole fiasco.”

Susie headed for the side door, but Dan blocked her exit.

“You owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t owe you anything. It’s enough I’ve had to put up with you,” Susie countered. “All I want now is to get out of this stupid excuse for a town.” Turning, she aimed for the main kitchen door, but stopped as two police officers stepped into the room.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” the first officer said.

“At least not until we get you extradited back to Tallahassee,” the other added. He removed his police cap with one hand and reached for his handcuffs with the other.

“Did I miss anything?” Sadie said, entering the kitchen, both arms overloaded with shopping bags. She gave Bryce a knowing smile.

Susie ignored Sadie and shouted at the police. “What about her?” she said, nodding toward Molly. She struggled against being handcuffed. “She’s the one who had the money in her tool shed! Why aren’t you taking
her
in?”

“What money in the tool shed?” Molly said. “There’s no money in the tool shed.”

“Not now there isn’t,” Dan said to Molly. “But only because we found it and turned it in to the police. But, wait…if you didn’t put it in there, who did?”

“That’s a good question,” the first officer said, turning to the second, who had just finished handcuffing Susie. “Maybe we’d better take Molly in, too.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Sadie interrupted. “Molly, there’s someone here to see you.”

“She’s a little busy now, don’t you think?” Susie snapped.

“Bring him in,” Bryce said. “Sadie knows what she’s doing. Besides, it can’t get much more confusing than it already is. Or entertaining, for that matter.”

Sadie gestured through the kitchen door. A minute later Casey stood in the doorway, holding a piece of paper.

“I hate to barge in, but Sadie insisted I come over,” the owner of the hardware store said. His eyes grew wide as he looked around and took in the wild scene. Susie was as red as a bicycle reflector, Molly, pale as white kitchen tile and the rest of the room’s occupants wore expressions as assorted as a box of miscellaneous faucet washers.

“Casey?” Molly said, “I didn’t order supplies this week.”

“I know,” Casey said. “I’m not here to deliver anything. I just wanted to see if the guy who won this week’s raffle was here. Sadie thought he might be here, but I don’t see him.”

He glanced around the room. Shoulders shrugged and heads shook from side to side.

“No one cares about a stupid raffle right now,” Susie spit out.

“I think you might when you hear what Casey here has to say,” Sadie said. She winked at Bryce, a gesture that no one in the room seemed to understand.

“Sorry to interrupt, Molly,” Casey said, ignoring Susie’s previous remark. “The guy just said he was checking out and I was hoping to catch him before he left town. He won twenty bucks.”

“Wow, twenty bucks,” Susie said, her tone laced with sarcasm. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on that windfall.”

“No need to be snide, my dear.” Bryce said. “It goes without saying that Sonja never would have bothered with such a measly sum.” Susie glared.

“Who is Sonja?” Sadie said.

“Hold on, Casey.” One police officer stopped him as he was turning to leave. “What did the guy buy – the one who won the raffle and said he was checking out?”

“It was a tackle box,” Casey said, looking down at the receipt. “Actually, two tackle boxes, to be specific.”

“This gentleman turned in a tackle box filled with the money,” the officer said to his partner, indicating Dan with a nod of his head.

The kitchen grew silent. Dan was the first to break the lull in conversation.

“Well, what do you know,” Dan said. “An honest person found the money and…wait, why would he bring it here?”

Susie burst out laughing. “Dan, you are such an idiot!” She tried unsuccessfully to bring a handcuffed arm around and then exhaled upward to blow her bangs out of her eyes.

Molly looked at Bryce. “I don’t understand either.”

“I think I can explain,” Bryce said. “Mr. Miller took the money from Susie after she robbed the bank.”

“That was never part of the plan!” Susie said before turning to Molly. “Besides, aren’t you the one who crashed into me?”

“I didn’t crash into anyone,” Molly said.

“What plan?” Dan looked at Susie. Getting no response, he turned to Molly, who shrugged in return.

“Maybe it was an impulse – an opportunity, right place and right time. And he changed his mind later. Or maybe it was an accident,” Bryce continued. “It doesn’t matter. He didn’t come here to return it out of the kindness of his heart. He came here to plant it and pin the blame on Molly, since she was a suspect already. He may have even thought she was the one who took it originally. That was what the news coverage made it look like.”

“Well, it looks pretty clear who the thief is,” the first officer said, turning his attention back to Susie. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, before you take her, I just have to ask,” Bryce said, facing Susie. “What really happened to that Van Gogh in Austria?”

“As if I’m going to tell you!” Susie exclaimed.

“And those emeralds we weren’t able to retrieve in Barcelona? I don’t suppose you know anything about them, either?” Bryce crossed his arms.

“You’ll never know!” Susie shouted over her shoulder as the first officer pulled her through the door.

“Who
ARE
you people?” the second policeman said, shaking his head. He put his uniform cap back on and followed his partner out the door.

Molly and Dan exchanged confused looks. Bryce grinned and gave a thumb’s up in Sadie’s direction. Sadie looked around the room and lifted both arms, palms up, shopping bags dangling, as she spoke.

“Wine and cheese, anyone?”

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