by Jenny Kales
“Oh, you’re probably right,” Viv shrugged. “Though she has a housekeeper, so you’d think she’d be better organized.” She sighed and then brightened a bit. “How about those scones? Ava is a keeper. Now, where to next? Should I take you to home? After what you’ve been through, you should be somewhere quiet with your feet up. I could stay with you, if you like, and cancel my volunteer spot at the library. It’s no trouble, dear.”
With Viv as a guest reader, Story Time was a big hit with kids and parents alike. If she missed, the kids would be disappointed and anyway, Callie had to get back to work.
“No, you go ahead. I feel awful but I feel like I need to go to work. I can’t leave Max to handle everything, especially because we’ve had a huge crowd this morning. Max thinks it’s because Mrs. DeWitt let it slip that I found him.”
Thankful that Viv was keeping her eyes on the road, Callie shifted in her seat and spotted a book on the backseat of the car that she hadn’t noticed before. She reached back and grabbed it, glancing at the title: “My Life in France” by Julia Child. “Great book,” she said to her grandmother.
“Why don’t you borrow it, Callie? It’s got a week to go on my card since I finished it so quickly. Maybe it will help you to relax.”
“I love this book but it’s been ages since I read it. Thanks. Any distraction would be good.” Maybe reading about Julia’s trials and tribulations as she found her footing and started a new life in 1950s France would take her mind off of her own troubles. Callie remembered that Julia’s stories about cooking, life, even her charmingly squalid Paris apartment were inspiring as well as entertaining.
“I’m glad.” Viv beamed at her granddaughter. “Sometimes reading a book you’ve read before and enjoyed is like visiting an old friend.” Viv swerved around a squirrel that darted across her path and Callie watched the creature scamper up a tree before exhaling with relief. Viv didn’t seem to notice and was looking at Callie again instead at the street before her.
“Please, Grandma, eyes on the road!” Callie couldn’t help but exclaim.
“Sorry, darling!” She turned her gaze back to the winding road that led them back to the Garden Street business district. “I’m just so worried. Please keep me posted. I’ve got my cell.”
“Thanks, you know I will. If you’d just drop me off at my shop, I’ll be out of your hair. For now, anyway.” The women exchanged smiles. Callie was relieved when Viv appeared to make a conscious effort to study the road once again.
The duo grew thoughtful as they made their way back to Crystal Bay’s downtown. The events of the past day and a half were starting to catch up with Callie, but there was no time for fatigue. Thinking of one of her favorite poems, she realized that she had “miles to go before she slept.” Today, Frost’s double meaning of the word “sleep” seemed to crackle with sinister symbolism. Drew had been someone with “miles to go” before he slept, too, someone who appeared to have everything to live for. His killer had clearly disagreed.
Six
When Callie arrived at work the next morning she waved at Max who stood behind the counter and then did a double-take. Usually, her display cases would be well picked over by now as customers snapped up their early morning baked goods and lunchtime items. Instead, they were full. Since Callie and Max baked a set amount of fresh goods each day, she knew he hadn’t simply replenished the stock.
Max followed her gaze to the display cases and gave a shoulder shrug. “I guess you haven’t seen the newspaper article yet.”
“What newspaper?” Callie said, on her guard.
Max held up a copy of the local Crystal Bay Courier. The cover story featured Drew’s picture and she blinked back a few tears when she saw his handsome visage staring out at her. But then her eyes narrowed at the headline and subhead: “Bistro Owner Slain: Rival Food Business Owner Questioned by Police.”
“Oh no!” Callie cried, as she saw the future of Callie’s Kitchen melt away in front of her eyes. “No!”
“I’m sorry. I guess that reporter in here yesterday decided to write a story. She’s probably sold a lot of papers. It’s online too, where nothing ever dies. Unfortunately, we’re not selling much food now as a result.”
“I just saw Mrs. DeWitt yesterday,” Callie said slowly. “I never did ask her why she talked to reporters. I was preoccupied, I guess.”
“I’m sure you were,” Max said. “You’ve had enough stress the last couple of days. Callie, don’t worry about it. Our clients are probably just freaking out. They’ll come back. You’re innocent.”
“I know that and you know that, but I don’t think that the detective in charge of the case knows that,” Callie said, still staring at then Courier article. A big story like that certainly wasn’t going to do her any favors with the police, either.
The phone trilled and Max picked it up. “Yep. Uh-huh. We can do that. Wait. You need it when? Just a minute, please.”
“Callie,” Max said breathlessly. “We’ve got Lucille on the line and she wants 100 mini coffee cakes for tomorrow morning. It’s a breakfast at the bank. What do you think? We’ve got no customers right now, anyway.”
Callie nodded and grabbed the phone. “Lucille? I understand you need some coffee cakes for tomorrow?”
“You’ve got to help me,” Lucille Reynolds, assistant to the vice president of the First Bank of Crystal Bay. “We have a big breakfast meeting tomorrow – very last-minute and now they want me to provide a feast fit for a king. You know I always give you advance notice but this time I promise, I had no idea. Corporate is coming down and Dave” – Lucille’s boss – “has been bragging about your coffee cakes. Please say you can get these to me. We’ll pay extra for the short notice, of course.” The panic in her tone was unmistakable.
Despite all of her troubles, a glow of gratitude warmed Callie’s heart. At least someone still trusted her to provide food. Or maybe it was just that she hadn’t seen the newspaper story yet. Never mind, a customer was a customer.
Callie calculated how many cakes she already had in her freezer: probably about two dozen. She’d have quite a few more to bake, but she would be able to charge her rush delivery price. That settled it. Talking to Jane Willoughby would have to wait.
“I’ll do it, Lucille. I’m happy to help.”
“Thank you, you’re a Greek goddess!” Lucille’s enthusiasm was contagious and once again, Callie felt grateful for her vote of confidence.
“Only half Greek,” Callie reminded her, with a smile. “As my dad says, the better half.” Lucille laughed at the quip and said something that Callie couldn’t hear. She strained to listen to Lucille who had dropped her voice to a near whisper.
“Listen. I’m sorry about Drew. It was terrible what happened to him and everything and I know you were going out, but that guy was weird.” Lucille kept her voice low.
“What do you mean?” Callie said, startled by this abrupt change in the conversation.
“I can’t talk about it right now,” Lucille hedged. Callie heard voices and assumed someone was coming into her office space. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when you deliver the cakes. Thanks again!” Lucille hung up abruptly.
Strange. But Callie had little time to decipher Lucille’s words, at least at the moment. She had cakes to bake, a daughter to care for and a dog that needed walking, feeding and grooming, in that order. She had to get going if she didn’t plan to be home by midnight. Maybe she’d finish in time to head over to the fitness center and ask Jane Willoughby some questions.
After filling Max in on the news that they needed about seventy-five more miniature coffee cakes by tomorrow morning, Callie left him at the register and got to work. With their delicious brown sugar and cinnamon streusel topping and rich, velvety crumb, Callie’s coffee cakes were a customer favorite. She’d gotten the idea to bake minis because so many customers were reluctant to purchase an entire coffee cake.
Callie’s Kitchen cakes used low-fat Greek yogurt in place of the more tr
aditional sour cream so they were healthier than most, but the miniature version of the cakes made her customers feel less guilty. As a result, the minis were even more popular than the original sized cakes that baked up rich and gorgeous in a 10-inch tube pan. Never underestimate the power of adorable, individually-sized food portions was a rule that Callie had learned to obey.
Callie began gathering some of the cake’s decadent ingredients: lots of unsalted butter, thick and creamy Greek yogurt, large organic eggs, spicy cinnamon, dark brown sugar and aromatic pure vanilla extract. As she measured out flour and greased her extra-large cupcake pans, her thoughts returned to Drew and his mysterious death. If only she could have had a chance to speak to Jane Willoughby in person.
Callie was just sprinkling streusel topping on a divine-smelling batch of batter when the bell over the door gave its cheerful jingle. She looked up, hoping to see her usual lunchtime crowd of hungry locals and tourists. Instead, she was surprised to see that it was only one lone client, Steve Willoughby, approaching the counter where Max was placing cookies in an artful array.
Jane Willoughby’s handsome husband jingled his car keys and didn’t say anything. He wasn’t a frequent customer and Callie found it odd that he would stop in now, when so many regulars were avoiding her business.
Max said hello and stood waiting for Steve’s order, while Callie kept sprinkling streusel topping on her cake batter, wondering if she could ask Steve to tell her about Jane’s schedule. As she worked, Callie realized that Max was trying to engage Steve in conversation and appeared to be receiving one-word answers. She decided to offer him a fresh-baked cookie on the house in an effort to break the ice. A food bribe was never a bad idea.
“Steve, won’t you try one of these butter cookies?” Callie asked in as chipper a tone as she could muster. Her lips felt dry and chapped, devoid of her usual colorful lipstick. She’d been too tired and upset to put on any makeup.
Max, who had clearly worn out his conversational topics, looked relieved to see Callie take over. Quickly, he returned to his cookie display.
“Uh, sure,” was Steve’s lukewarm response. “I guess so.”
He took the proffered cookie and destroyed it in one huge bite. Chewing, Steve seemed to relax a little bit. His usually slicked back blonde hair was mussed up and his clothing – a blue button-down shirt and khaki pants – were rumpled. Callie noticed that his normally lively turquoise eyes were puffy and tired-looking and a day’s worth of stubble coated his cheeks and chin. Steve was not his usual dapper self.
“I was hoping to pick up some dinner for tonight,” he said, wiping his mouth. “I don’t want Jane to have to cook.” He looked down, appearing to consider his next words. “I suppose Jane wouldn’t mind if I told you about her recent problems, seeing as you’re friends.”
Callie nodded at him encouragingly.
“Jane lost a pregnancy,” he confessed, his voice cracking.
Callie felt helpless at this show of emotion. Was he going to break down right here? She tried to look around for Max without Steve noticing but before she could, he plowed ahead with the rest of his sad story.
“She’s – that is, we’re both – hurting. It’s been really hard. I’m sure it’s harder on her, though, physically as well as mentally. So I’m trying to treat her extra well and I figured having some prepared meals on hand would be a nice touch.”
“Oh, Steve,” Callie said. “I am so sorry. Of course we’ll find some delicious and healthy meals for you and Jane.” Emerging from behind the counter she took his arm and led him over to her refrigerated case with clear glass walls and shelving. “Would you like some of my Greek chicken stew? And let’s see, I’ve got salad and pita bread, too. Plus, cucumber yogurt sauce for the bread. Healthy and comforting.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, brightening a little bit. “That sounds good.”
Callie began gathering up the items and placing them in one of her signature blue and white shopping bags.
“Things haven’t been so great for several people in Crystal Bay lately,” Steve observed as Callie brought the bags to the cash register. She slipped some more cookies into a paper bag and placed them with the other items.
“My treat,” she explained. “These butter cookies, or koulourakia, are my grandmother’s recipe, George’s mother, that is.” “Yiayia, we called her, which is Greek for ‘grandmother’.” She realized she was babbling but Steve didn’t seem to mind.
“Thanks,” Steve said wryly. “What I meant to say is that it was terrible what happened to Drew. And then, that newspaper article.” He looked Callie in the eye. “That had to be a surprise.”
Callie felt her face redden and she tried to keep her customer-friendly smile on her face but it froze before it reached the corners of her mouth. “It was a blow,” she said, trying to control her voice and forbidding herself to cry. She pulled herself together and forced a tepid smile.
However, Steve was looking around the shop; he didn’t seem to have noticed Callie’s emotional turmoil. “So,” he said suddenly brisk. “How is this place doing anyway?”
“Oh, you know,” Callie said with a shrug, a little surprised at the sudden change in topic. “As well as can be expected, I guess. We’re struggling like everyone else.”
“No kidding. At least you’re still in business. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that Minette’s Chocolates had shut down.” He shook his head.
“Yes, I was shocked about that, too,” Callie remarked. “Steve,” she said, deciding to take advantage of this chance meeting. “I need to talk to Jane. Do you know if she’ll be at the fitness center tomorrow?”
Steve handed Callie some cash and started gathering his bags as she rang up the sale. “She should be. In fact, work seems to be the only place she can stand to be right now.” He seemed to be about to say something and then stopped. “She’s there most mornings, evenings and everything in between.” He frowned and busied himself with his wallet. “Thanks for the meal and the cookies,” he said. He waved at her and hustled out the door.
Why was chatty Steve in such a hurry after sharing so much personal information? Probably he was embarrassed to have shared quite so much, Callie thought as she wiped the counter with a clean cloth.
“What’s up with Willoughby?” Max said sidling up from cleaning tables in the front of the shop. “Dude looked like he was upset about something.”
“I know. I feel terrible for him.” Callie said. “His wife had a miscarriage.”
“Yeah, I heard.” At least Max had the good grace to blush at his obvious eavesdropping.
Callie just shook her head at her inquisitive protégé. “Let’s get baking, buster,” she said. “Mini coffee cakes are calling.”
While they worked, Max seemed to have experienced a burst of energy. Callie watched, impressed, as he expertly but speedily scooped batter into the large muffin cups and sprinkled the luscious streusel combination over all.
“Max, you’re a hero. As soon as things get back to normal, let’s see about getting you some time off. In fact, I had been hoping that I could win the business contest so that I would get some additional employees to help you. Provided business picks up again, that is. I also need a social media expert but that looks like it’s going to have to be me, for now. And I’m no expert.”
“Social networking? I have a friend who’s a pro at all of that stuff,” Max enthused. “She’s still in school at Crystal Bay College but she studies online marketing, web design, social media, all of that. Maybe we could ask her for some pointers. You might even want to hire her part-time. You know, provided things are going well.”
“Who is this friend? Have you mentioned her before?” Callie’s voice was gently teasing but she saw that she’d hit a nerve when Max blushed to the roots of his artfully spiked hair.
“No, it’s someone I’ve just gotten to know recently. Her name is Piper and she’s really smart. I mean, she’s a computer nerd and all that but in a good way and really artist
ic. I met her when I was visiting my friend Jack a couple of weeks ago in Madison. She happened to be visiting a friend, too. Piper just moved to Crystal Bay. I knew there was a reason I hadn’t noticed her before.” Max shifted from foot to foot, trying to look casual.
“I’d love her input. I wish I could hire her! She sounds like just the person I need.”
Max smiled as he finished sprinkling streusel on top of the last of the coffee cakes. “I could call her and ask her to take a look at our web site. What else do you want to do?”
“We need to be on Facebook and Twitter. Instagram and Pinterest are probably a good idea, too, since it’s a great way to advertise food using enticing photos of Callie’s Kitchen creations. But I just don’t have the time to manage all of those sites on my own. You really think she’d be interested in helping out?”
“I think so.” Max looked thrilled. “Maybe she could even get college credit, you know, like an internship?”
“That would be great.” Doubly great, thought Callie, since an internship didn’t pay in dollars, just in experience and like Max said, college credit. A real part-time employee would be nice but maybe this Piper could offer a stopgap until Callie laid her hands on some additional funds.
“I’d love to chat with her. Tell her to stop into the shop sometime.”
“Will do!” Max beamed. Piper must be pretty special after all. Max wasn’t exactly unpopular.
“One task I will take off your hands tomorrow is delivering these cakes to the bank,” Callie informed Max as they carefully boxed the cakes. “Lucille made a personal request for my presence. No offense, I hope.”
“No problem,” said Max as he flexed his muscles stacking cakes on the shelving unit in the back of the shop. “I’m coming in early to bake and I’ll be back at the shop until about two.”
“Right,” said Callie. “Hopefully tomorrow we’ll have some more customers to feed.” In the meantime, how was she going to find time to see Jane Willoughby? She also needed to stop in Drew’s restaurant and check to see if she could find anything that might help offer a clue to his murderer.
