Autumn Dreams

by Gayle Roper

  Grinning, Cass put an unhappy Flossie on the floor and pulled out her list of things to be done before the new guests arrived. She and Brenna bent their heads over the paper and divvied up the work.

  “When Jared gets home, he can give the lawn what may well be the last mowing of the season,” Cass finished. Having the boy on site did come in handy, even if he ate nonstop, putting an unexpected crimp in her food budget. She handed Brenna her list of tasks for the day. “If either of us has an extra minute, we can deadhead the mums. I noticed when I jogged past this morning that some of them need tending.”

  “I can mow the grass,” Dan offered.

  Cass was horrified. “But you’re our guest!”

  “A bored guest,” he reminded her. “Let me do it. It’s been so long since I tended a lawn that it even sounds like fun.”

  “How are the mighty fallen,” Cass said. “From CEO to lawn boy.”

  “Not to mention shopper’s assistant.” He grinned. “The day shows promise after all.”

  Dan proved himself invaluable as he lugged grocery bags, mowed the lawn, deadheaded the mums, swept the front porch and the sidewalks, and rearranged the library’s nonfiction titles by topics and fiction section by author. He was standing in the front hall wearing jeans and a deep brown long-sleeved tee when the first guests arrived. When he saw them, he hurried down the porch steps to carry their luggage.

  Cass mentally rolled her eyes as he ushered them to the registration desk.

  “This is Mr. and Mrs. Novack,” he told Cass. He turned to the Novacks. “Cass is the innkeeper at SeaSong, and she’ll take good care of you.” He stepped back and grinned at Cass over the Novacks’ heads. The sound of slamming car doors had him running out front to play bellhop once again.

  Cass ran Mr. Novack’s credit card, gave the couple their room key, and turned to Brenna who had just entered from the kitchen. “Will you escort the Novacks to the third-floor turret room?”

  Brenna smiled a greeting at the Novacks and reached for one of the suitcases.

  Dan appeared in the lobby at that moment, the luggage of another couple in his hands. “Leave it, Brenna. I’ll bring the Novacks things up while the Mancinis register.”

  She grinned and dropped the suitcase, then turned to the Novacks. “Your room is right this way.” She led them upstairs.

  The next hour passed in a blur of new arrivals, registrations, and questions for Cass. Brenna escorted people upstairs, and Dan carried everyone’s luggage. By 6 P.M. everyone was accounted for, a very unusual situation. Cass stretched her hands over her head as Brenna escorted the last couple to the third floor, Dan following with the bags.

  When he returned, he grinned. “That was fun.”

  “Hey!” Jared stuck his head in from the kitchen. “Who mowed the lawn and when’s dinner?”

  “Dan did and in a half hour,” Cass said. “How’d your day go?”

  Jared looked at Dan in surprise. “Good man. Thanks. It went fine.”

  Cass flicked her thumb at Dan as she said to Jared, “He figured you’d be tired after practice.”

  Jared looked chagrined. “Well, practice on Friday is mostly reading and reviewing plays and the coach’s pep talk for tomorrow’s game. I’ve been at Paulie’s.”

  “Hey, Ms. Merton.” Paulie stuck his head under Jared’s arm. “How are you doing?”

  “Hi, Paulie. This is Mr. Harmon. I take it you’re here for dinner?”

  “Hey, Mr. Harmon.” Paulie smiled, then turned to Cass. “Nobody cooks like you, Ms. Merton.” His face clouded. “My mom sure doesn’t.”

  “You’ll eat with us too, won’t you?” Cass looked at Dan. “You’ve certainly earned your food today.”

  Dan nodded, looking inordinately pleased. Well, of course he was pleased, Cass thought. He didn’t have to buy dinner at a restaurant and eat staring at a wall. His pleasure was nothing she should take personally.

  “Hey,” Paulie asked, trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably. “Where’s Jenn?”

  Poor Paulie. “I think she’s in her room.” Cass pointed upstairs. “But she’ll be down for dinner.”

  Paulie smiled, his teeth gleaming his pleasure.

  “Jared, pull out an extra pack of rolls and get them ready for the oven. And an extra bag of salad. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

  “Come on, guys,” Dan said. “We can get dinner ready for the ladies.” The three men disappeared into the back of the house.

  Cass checked to be certain that all her paperwork and computer records were current, knowing how easy it would be to miss something in the flood of guests. She looked up as she heard Brenna come down the stairs. One look at the girl’s face told Cass there was a problem. Tears sat at the edge of Brenna’s lower lashes, like water on the crest of a dam about to overflow, and her chin wobbled.

  Cass rushed to her. “Brenna, what’s wrong?” It couldn’t be more strange phone calls. All SeaSong’s rooms were occupied, which meant Brenna couldn’t use any upstairs phone, and Cass herself had been at the registration desk all evening. Cass gave Brenna a quick hug. “Tell me.”

  “The Novacks,” she said, her voice all shaky.

  Cass stiffened. “What did they do to you?” she demanded, feeling very protective.

  “They’re unhappy with their accommodations.”

  “What?” Cass stared, surprised. Nobody was ever unhappy with SeaSong. “But the third-floor tower is one of our best rooms. It’s beautiful. What’s not to like?”

  “Mr. Novack found a hair on the pillowcase.” Brenna’s tears breached the lids and slipped slowly down her cheek. “He said he couldn’t stay in a room that was obviously dirty.”

  Cass frowned. “A hair on the pillowcase?”

  Brenna nodded miserably. “I made up that room. I must have been careless. I’m so sorry.” She sniffed. “They insist on seeing you.”

  “You wait right here until I get back, okay?” Cass said as she started up the stairs. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Brenna sank onto the antique red velvet slipper chair that sat next to the grandfather clock and sniffed several times.

  When Cass reached the third floor, she knocked quietly on the door of the tower room.

  “Come in,” Mr. Novack called.

  She turned the handle and entered the apricot room. The quilt was turned partially down, the pillow closest to the door exposed. In the middle of the crisp pillowcase lay a long hair.

  Mr. Novack pointed. “How can you ask us to sleep in a bed with sheets that have obviously been used before?”

  Cass smiled sweetly at Mr. Novack as inside she fumed. There was absolutely no way that hair, so very long and curly, had been left on that pillow from a previous guest. As she walked to the bed to study the circumstantial evidence, she noted Mrs. Novack sitting in the alcove of the turret, looking out the window, ignoring the conversation behind her. She was an attractive woman in navy slacks and a royal blue sweater set, her long, light brown, curly hair hanging below her shoulders.

  Cass took hold of the quilt, blanket, and top sheet and pulled them down, draping them over the foot of the bed. She gestured to the revealed bottom sheet.

  “As you can see, Mr. Novack, this bed has not been slept in since it was changed. All our bedding is fresh, as are our towels and washcloths.”

  He looked at the pristine sheet and went, “Humph! I thought this was a bed-and-breakfast of impeccable reputation. I see now that I was wrong.” He looked at Cass’s blond hair. “It was probably that girl you have working for you.”

  Cass bit back her defense of Brenna. “Let me remake the bed for you, Mr. Novack. That way you will be assured of the cleanest, freshest bedding possible.” Smiling even though it hurt, Cass turned for the door.

  “I must tell you,” Mr. Novack said, his voice sly and smarmy, “that I find it reprehensible that you would still charge us full price when such an avoidable and egregious mistake has been made.”

  Bingo. “Let me ge
t the fresh sheets, Mr. Novack, and we can talk.”

  By the time the bed was remade and they were finished talking, Mr. Novack was satisfied with the 15 percent price cut Cass gave him. She left his room, fuming at his chicanery as she ran down the stairs. When she reached the front hall, Brenna rose to her feet, red-eyed and despairing.

  “I’m so sorry, Cass.” She sniffed. “I don’t know how it happened.”

  “Was he unkind to you? Did he say anything offensive? Because if he did, I’ll ask them to leave.”

  Brenna shook her head, new tears falling. “He just made me feel like a complete incompetent.”

  “Well, don’t you worry, honey.” Cass gathered Brenna close. “It wasn’t you, and it wasn’t your hair. It was Mrs. Novack’s.”

  Brenna stepped back, shock showing on her face. “Really?”

  “Really. I just haven’t decided yet why she cooperates with her worm of a husband. She sat facing away from me the whole time, as though she was distancing herself from the con or was terribly embarrassed by her husband’s shenanigans.”

  “What did you do to calm him down?”

  “I remade the bed and gave them a 15 percent price break.”

  Brenna frowned. “But why? You know he’s lying. Now he thinks he’s won.”

  “I have a house full of other guests, nice people who are paying a goodly sum for an enjoyable, relaxing weekend. I want them to have a great time here, a pleasant time. If I ignored Mr. Novack, he’d make all my other guests miserable with complaints all weekend. I’ll take the loss for the sake of the honest guests.”

  Brenna nodded. “The customer is always right, even when he isn’t.”

  Cass smiled wryly. “He’s so transparent it’s pathetic. I’m downright curious to see what he tries next, and be assured he will try something. I’d bet my life on it.” Cass slung her arm over Brenna’s shoulders and led her toward the kitchen. “I need to pass his name on to the B&B Guild members so they can be on the watch for him in case he tries something like this again.”

  Reminder: Be certain to mention that the B&B has no room if Mr. Novack ever calls again.

  “You think he does this a lot?”

  “Oh, yeah. You have no idea of the tricks, both clever and mean, that people try to pull without thinking about the person they’re hurting.”

  Brenna gave a little noise like someone had punched her in the stomach. Surprised, Cass looked at her. The girl quickly lowered her head, but not before Cass saw a new surge of tears glistening in her eyes. She thought back over her words. Tricks? Clever and mean? Hurting people? Poor Brenna.

  Cass gave the girl’s shoulders a squeeze, and with a hand on the swinging door, said, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

  Brenna froze for an instant. Then she nodded, head still bent. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I’m—it’s—uh—” She stumbled to silence and ducked out from under Cass’s arm and almost ran to the back door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at seven-thirty.”

  Cass watched Brenna hurry out without acknowledging any of the people who were in the kitchen, no small feat since Dan, Jared and Paulie all called out good-bye.

  “Come on, Cass.” Dan drew out a chair. “Sit here. Dinner’s ready.”

  Jared pulled the casserole and the rolls from the oven and put them on the counter. There was no room for them on the little table. Paulie poured iced tea into five glasses. Dan tossed the oversize Caesar salad.

  “Jenn?” Cass asked.

  “Here.” She glided down the steps and into the kitchen, timing her entrance perfectly. No more work to be done, at least until clean-up time.

  “Here, Jenn.” Paulie held a chair for her, his face like that of an optimistic puppy that was ever hopeful of not being kicked.

  With a grunt and a do-me-no-favors look that would have scorched most guys, Jenn flopped into her chair. She frowned when Paulie sat beside her, her brow so furrowed it resembled corrugated cardboard.

  Poor Paulie.

  Cass was pleased because the bell on the registration desk rang only four times with requests for advice about restaurants, theaters, and the weather. It was almost like eating undisturbed. When she returned to the registration area after dinner, Paulie was carrying dishes to the sink for Jenn to stuff in the dishwasher. Jared and Dan had disappeared. Almost immediately the sound of a basketball bouncing indicated a game of one-on-one out back.

  It was nine-thirty when Greg Barnes of the Seaside police walked into the SeaSong lobby, followed by Joe Masterson, the owner of Dante’s at the Dock.

  “Gentlemen,” Cass said with the instinctive clutch in her heart at an unexpected visit from a cop. She was glad that Jared and Jenn were watching a video in Jared’s room, Paulie keeping them company. She offered Greg and Joe her hand. “What can I do for you?” Of course there was always Mom and Dad.

  “Hey, Ms. Merton.” Greg grinned as he shook her hand. “How are you doing? How’s the B&B business?”

  “I’m doing fine. How’s the cop business?”

  “Always interesting.”

  Cass liked Greg Barnes. He had been one of her students back in the old days at Seaside High. He had been a good kid then and had turned into a good cop. He’d married his high school sweetheart, a little bouncy redhead who had more energy than any ten people. “How are Ginny and the kids?”

  Greg pulled out his wallet. “You should know better than to ask.”

  Cass oohed and aahed until Joe Masterson cleared his throat. His ears turning pink, Greg reverted to his professional persona, stuffing his wallet in his pocket and squaring his shoulders. “Do you have a Mr. Brian Novack staying here?”

  Cass bit back a smile. She’d read Mr. Novack right. He was trying another con, only this one was going to get him into trouble. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving man. “Mr. and Mrs. Novack are staying in the third-floor turret room.”

  “I need to speak to them,” Greg said.

  Cass climbed to the third floor once again, knocking gently at the Novacks’ door.

  “What?” Mr. Novack barked through the wood paneling.

  “Someone to see you downstairs,” Cass said sweetly.

  The door opened, and Mr. Novack stepped out wearing navy dress slacks and a yellow oxford cloth shirt with a little pony over his heart. “Who?”

  Cass would have enjoyed saying, “The cops,” just to see his face, but she merely said, “I’m only bringing the message.”

  Mr. Novack snorted and surged past her and down the steps. She followed, filled with the anticipation of his comeuppance. It doesn’t say much about my character, but … She grinned.

  He stopped abruptly when he saw who awaited him.

  “Mr. Novack?” Greg Barnes stood tall and Cass was impressed with how authoritative he could be when he put his mind to it.

  “What do you want?” Mr. Novack snarled. Clearly charm wasn’t the man’s strong suit.

  “Did you have dinner this evening at Dante’s at the Dock?”

  “The fancy side,” prompted Joe Masterson. “That’s important.”

  “Dante’s at the Dock, you say?” Mr. Novack paused as if in thought. “Never heard of it.”

  “Then how come we have your name on our reservation list?” Joe asked.

  All eyes fastened on Mr. Novack. He fidgeted. “What if I did eat there? Surely that’s not a crime.”

  “You forgot to pay your bill,” Joe said, his voice dripping dislike and more than a touch of anger.

  “Is that true, Mr. Novack?” Greg asked, his face impassive.

  “The waiter never gave it to me. How could I pay a bill that I didn’t have?”

  “So you just left?” Greg stared as if he were appalled by such actions.

  Mr. Novack’s cheeks flushed an unbecoming pink. “How do you know it’s me who didn’t pay?”

  “You mean aside from the fact that you just admitted it?” Greg asked.

  Joe stared at Mr. Novack as though he couldn’t believe such stupidity. “
Our reservation list shows you were assigned a certain table. My manager saw you leaving as soon as you finished your last swallow of coffee. He knew you had been a pain of a customer, harassing your poor waiter, so he was watching you. You didn’t wait even two minutes for your bill, so he followed you. Then he called me to tell me where you’d gone, and I called the cops.”

  “He followed me?” Mr. Novack had the nerve to look angry. He turned to Greg. “Isn’t that a violation of my right to privacy?”

  Greg’s cold stare dropped to frigid. “Pay Mr. Masterson. Right now.”

  “But I never got the bill. The service was lousy. The food was inferior.”

  Joe glowered at the insults. “Then don’t leave a tip.”

  “Pay the man.” Greg spread his feet and rested his hand on his gun. “Immediately.”

  Cass was still smiling long after Greg and Joe left, and Mr. Novack, minus a substantial number of dollars—it was, after all, the fancy side—returned to his room.

  No one ever said inn keeping was dull.

  Twelve

  TUCKER STARED AT his grandfather in disbelief. One million dollars? He felt like knocking his hand against the side of his head to straighten out what must surely be defective hearing.

  One million dollars!

  “I put this money aside for you when you were born, Tucker, and for Sherri when your father married Patsi,” the old man said. “Sherri was just a baby then. So sweet. So cute.”

  Tuck squirmed. The old man was right. Sherri had been cute and sweet, and from the moment she showed up, everyone forgot he was there. It was a clear case of along came the little princess, and the prince might as well have been a frog.

  When his father remarried and presented Tuck with both a new mother and a baby sister, he didn’t want either. He’d liked having Hank all to himself, being spoiled and indulged and catered to. But then, who asked him what he wanted?

  Sometimes he wondered about the jealousy he’d felt toward Sherri from the moment he’d first seen her, an adorable two-year-old with dimples and a smile to rival the sun in luminosity. Often resentment and envy-induced spite seized him by the throat and shook him like a dog would shake a favorite toy. When that happened, he visited her room until he found the zing, showing her that she might be the favored one, but he was the one with the real power. Whether it was her favorite Barbie disappearing or her bike tires mysteriously going flat, he wanted her to suffer as he had suffered from her displacement of him as the favored and only child.