by Jenny Kales
As she gathered her purse and gave Koukla one last belly rub before she left for work, Callie was unenthusiastic about being Lucille’s delivery person. Experiencing an unusual amount of worry and stress early in the morning was not helping her to motivate for a day of trying to win back customers and keep her business afloat. She prayed that people were finally coming back to Callie’s Kitchen.
Blinking in the late September sunshine, Callie thought ruefully that the weather had never been more beautiful than in the days following her horrific discovery of Drew’s body and subsequent interrogation by the police. Somehow, slogging through ice, snow or sleet under slate grey skies would have better fit her mood. Nature, however, was indifferent to her troubles.
Putting on oversized sunglasses against the glare, what Samantha called her “Jackie O. look,” Callie prepared herself to face the day.
At Callie’s Kitchen, Max was busy cooking and baking, but Callie noticed that he’d scaled back a bit. Usually he made enough for an army. A couple of what appeared to be tourists and one or two regulars were sampling apple-pumpkin breakfast cake and braided Greek butter cookies. Still, just a few people compared to the large crowd that usually arrived in the morning wasn’t a good sign.
Callie slipped into the kitchen to inspect the coffee cakes that Max had supposedly made for Lucille. Thankfully, Max had been diligent in his preparation. The cakes appeared to be boxed up and ready to go; her signature blue-and-white “Callie’s Kitchen” boxes were marked with a note saying “First Bank of Crystal Bay.”
Based on the low number of boxes, Callie deduced that this was just a small party and didn’t require the massive amount of cakes Lucille had ordered for the head honchos of the bank’s parent company in Madison.
As Callie began taking boxes to her car, Max appeared from the front of the shop looking glum.
“Hi,” Max greeted her, but without much enthusiasm. Callie peered more closely at him. Even the spikes of his haircut seemed to be drooping. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Thanks, I am. Well, mostly. I still have a headache and am a little achy, but generally, I feel all right, considering. What about you? Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s still slow, but the people that do show up seem to enjoy the food.” Max blushed. “I didn’t make as much food as yesterday. I’m trying not to waste ingredients.”
“I noticed. Thanks. Let’s stick to that policy for the time being, at least until things pick up. If they ever do.”
“Hey, here’s something!” Max seemed to want to cheer her up. “Those crème brûlée cupcakes you had last fall? One of the tourists asked when you would serve those again.”
“Really? Well, that’s a positive piece of news. I’ve got to find my kitchen blowtorch and then we can make them. They were trés magnifique, weren’t they?”
Callie leaned against the counter, her arms crossed in front of her. “You seem a little down,” she said to Max, noticing that his glum expression had returned. “Is anything wrong? Well, besides the usual worries about work.” And the fact that your boss is a murder suspect.
“I’m fine. Well, not really. It’s a little embarrassing.” Max didn’t seem to want to meet Callie’s eyes.
“Just a second,” Callie said, checking the front of the shop. Her few customers had departed. She sighed and turned back to her employee.
“I’m grabbing some coffee. Want some? And then you can tell me all about it. I want to try that apple-pear coffee cake, too. I’ve got a couple of minutes before I make my delivery.” She started bustling around looking for coffee cups and sugar.
Max pulled up a stool. “It’s just that….” he hesitated and took a sip of the coffee Callie had handed him. “I don’t think that Piper wants to go out with me anymore.”
“Oh?” Callie replied. “Were you officially ‘going out?’” Whatever that meant to people Max’s age. She tried to not think about the free social media expertise that she might be losing and put an understanding look on her face.
“Yeah, I guess.” Max smiled. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with her. She seems distant these last couple of days. I’m almost afraid to ask what’s wrong because I don’t want her to dump me.”
Obviously the poor guy was desperate if he was asking her for love advice. Callie began slicing pieces of breakfast cake for each of them. Unable to resist, she took a huge bite. The cake was so moist and flavorful, redolent of cinnamon and brown sugar, with a tender crumb.
Callie devoured another bite of cake before deciding to answer. “Don’t be afraid to talk to her. Likely, it’s not you at all. She’s probably just busy. She works and goes to school, right?”
Max nodded. “So don’t worry about it,” Callie reassured him. “If you just started going out, you’re still getting to know each other.” With a failed marriage and a dead boyfriend to her credit, Callie wondered if she was committing a sacrilege by giving relationship advice.
Max gave her a hint of a smile. “You’re probably right.” He sipped more coffee and set down his cup with a decisive click. “Well, I’ve got more stuff to bake and then I thought I’d start a new batch of Greek chicken stew. It’s on the menu for the week. I checked the walk-in and we’ve got the ingredients. Is that okay with you?”
“You bet, but don’t make the usual large batch. Until customers return, anyway.” Max looked worried at the thought of fewer customers but agreed. Callie gathered up the small order of coffee cake boxes for Lucille and picked up her car keys. “I’m off. See you in about half an hour.”
Callie found a space right in front of the bank this time and set off in the direction of Lucille’s cubicle. Seeing the bank tellers reminded her that she needed to write herself a check for cash until her new debit cards arrived.
“I heard you were mugged,” Lucille said quietly as Callie reached her desk. “Let me help you with those.” She started grabbing blue and white cake boxes.
“They’re not heavy,” Callie protested.
“It’s no trouble. Thanks for bringing the food,” Lucille enthused. “You know how much I love them. Everybody has been so nice to me since I came back to work, and now you’ve brought my favorite cakes.” She opened one of the boxes and inhaled deeply. The scent of cinnamon, brown sugar and vanilla wafted out.
“Yum!” she said, beaming at Callie. “I also wanted to thank you for the soup delivery the other night. I couldn’t believe it when I found out that you were attacked, just like me. What’s happening to Crystal Bay? It’s not a safe place anymore.”
“That’s just what I was thinking,” Callie stammered, trying to figure out a way to ask about Chef Johan without appearing nosy. “I don’t even want to step out at night without a big, strong guy on my arm!” She blushed to hear herself speak that way, but it just might work. Anyway, she had stepped out with Viv and little Koukla only the night before – and to a crime scene no less.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lucille said slowly, inspecting her nails, shiny with red lacquer. “You and I are both strong and fit. Even so, I’m definitely reviewing my self-defense training after my attack at Bodies by the Bay. If anyone comes after me again, I’m ready for him. Or her!” Lucille held up her arms in a mock karate chop and Callie couldn’t help but laugh at her antics.
“Well, what I mean is,” Callie said, trying again, “there is safety in numbers. And having someone bigger and stronger by your side will really help deter a would-be attacker, wouldn’t you say?”
Lucille opened her eyes wide. “Callie. Are you already dating someone again? Who is he?”
Impressed at Lucille’s ability to turn the tables, Callie was momentarily stunned into silence. “Uh, no,” she finally answered. “But it would be nice to have a bodyguard, especially with a killer still on the loose.”
Lucille looked at her, puzzled. “I didn’t think so. I mean, it would be kind of soon.” She chewed on one of her perfectly manicured nails for a second and then seemed to regain her usu
al buoyancy. “Hey, Callie. I’ve got this. Thanks for delivering the goodies, but I’ll unload them myself. You go get off your feet or something.” She started arranging the boxes on a table next to a coffee urn.
Callie’s shoulders slumped as fatigue washed over her. Lucille’s offer was tempting. “Well, I can’t do that, but I do have an errand to do here at the bank. And I have been missing way too much work. Sure you don’t mind?”
“Nope. Go on, now!” Lucille playfully waved her away, so Callie thanked the young woman again and headed for one of the bank teller stations.
As she wrote her check for cash, Callie decided that gossipy Lucille had suddenly become a pretty good poker player. She wasn’t giving anything away.
* * *
Callie returned to her shop where she hoped she’d be greeted by a throng of Greek-stew loving customers. No dice, as George liked to say. Maybe now was a good time to finally call Olivia. She dialed Hugh’s cell phone, telling herself it was perfectly fine that she didn’t feel like interacting with Raine at the moment.
“Hi, I was going to call you,” Hugh said by way of greeting. He sounded worried.
“Why, what’s up?”
“Olivia’s been having a lot of wheezing. We’re trying to figure out what’s going on. Raine gave her a breathing treatment and she seems better, but I’m concerned. I didn’t want to bother you unless absolutely necessary.”
“Of course you’re not bothering me. Can I speak to Olivia?”
“Sure. Here she is.” Callie was relieved to hear her daughter’s voice on the line. She sounded pretty much like her usual self, if a little tired.
“Hi Mom! How’s Koukla?”
“Hi. Well, she’s just fine. Keeping me great company. I hear your asthma is acting up again.”
“Yeah. I did a treatment and it helped but I swear, every time I’m around Raine it gets worse.”
“You’re probably imagining it.” Was Olivia now experiencing anxiety-related symptoms due to Raine? How was she going to fix that problem? Raine not only wasn’t going anywhere, she was seeking to produce progeny – aka, new “Raines.” Callie let out a sigh, feeling defeated.
“Drink lots of water and don’t overdo it with the exercise. I’m going to call the doctor and ask for advice. I miss you and love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. When I get home, will you let Koukla sleep in my room?”
Callie smiled. “Sure. Now let me talk to dad again. Bye!” She heard the phone exchange hands and Hugh was back on the line.
“Just let her rest. I don’t want to treat her like an invalid but I don’t like the asthma kicking up, even on medication. I’ll call her doctor and keep you posted. Maybe she’ll have to come home before the weekend is over. If there’s an emergency, take her to the hospital. Promise?”
“Yes, I’ll take care of her.” Hugh sounded a little impatient, but then softened his tone. He knew better than anyone else how scary it could be to watch a child have a serious asthma attack. “Don’t worry, Callie. She’s in good hands.”
“Hugh,” Callie wasn’t quite sure how to broach the topic. “Do you mind giving her the breathing treatments next time? It’s nice of Raine to offer to help Olivia, but maybe she’d feel better if you were the one to do it.”
Hugh blew air out of his nostrils in an exasperated gesture that used to drive Callie bananas and still did. “Raine’s great with her, Callie. You don’t have to worry. But yes, I’ll be happy to deliver the medicine if it’s needed.”
Fair enough. Callie rang off and sat down on a chair, her fatigue returning. As much as she trusted Hugh to take care of his daughter, she felt slightly apprehensive about not being near Olivia when she clearly needed her.
What would make her feel better, Callie asked herself? Besides eating a pound of chocolate or a dozen crème brûlée cupcakes, the only thing that came to mind was figuring out Drew’s murder once and for all. She was tired of watching her back and having people think that she had the slightest thing to do with his death. She was tired of people shrugging her off and refusing to talk to her, people she’d known for years. She was tired of suspecting people and having them suspect her.
Like Jane. Well, watch me refuse to take ‘no’ for an answer, Callie thought. Jane might not want to talk to her, but she couldn’t prevent her from visiting Bodies by the Bay as a client, could she? But – Detective Sands had warned her away from any more crime scenes, she thought guiltily. Well, she just wouldn’t go near the pool or hot tub.
Callie grabbed a bowl of soup from one of the huge stock pots on the stove and sat down at the staff table, formulating a plan. By the time she finished, she knew just what she was going to do.
Twenty Three
Max and Callie finished their food prep for the day and tidied up. The lack of customers was really becoming a problem. Only one or two brave (or hungry) souls had ventured in for a bite and then, nothing. Callie stepped outside and looked up and down the street, a rush of crisp fall air cooling her face, flushed from standing over stock pots and hot water. Nobody appeared to be headed her way. Maybe it was time to lock up and go home.
Though the air outside was cool, inside, the shop was warm with the homey scent of Greek chicken stew and the tantalizing aroma of crème brûlée cupcakes. Would this food just go to waste, too? Obviously, the people of Crystal Bay had believed that vile newspaper reporter’s version of things instead of believing in her. For a split second, she considered what it would be like to be a hostess at The Olympia again. No way. She’d think of something.
Max had worked on the cupcake batter and was monitoring a batch while Callie took stock of her refrigerator contents, making sure that she had the right ingredients for the cupcakes’ signature custard frosting.
The frosting was applied to each cake and then caramelized with a small but powerful cooking blowtorch, right before being placed in a refrigerated display case. Looking at the pile of mixing bowls they’d used, Callie filled a sink and started rinsing them, then placed them in the dishwasher. A quick search on her office computer regarding membership policies at Bodies by the Bay and she had everything she needed.
Despite her distraction, Callie noticed that Max seemed happier as he worked with the cupcakes, carefully adding just the right amount of batter to each muffin tin and then setting the timer with no question about it, some spring in his step. The first batch came out, pale gold, with a fragrant vanilla scent. Max placed the cakes on racks to cool and it was difficult to resist eating one even without the rich, creamy custard frosting, topped with a crackling layer of caramelized brown sugar.
Callie was in too much of a hurry to even contemplate a cupcake break — she had to get to the fitness center before closing time. She’d barely had time to place a call to the doctor, who had suggested Olivia visit the office as soon as she got back from her father’s house.
“Max, can you handle closing up tonight? I’ve got a pressing errand. If you don’t mind storing the cupcakes once they cool, I’ll finish decorating them tomorrow morning. They’ve got be thoroughly cold before the frosting is torched, anyway.” Callie wiped her hands on her apron.
“Sure. You go ahead.” Max turned out another batch of cupcakes on a huge stainless steel baking rack. Callie regarded her employee carefully. Had he reached a rapprochement with Piper? Unfortunately, Max’s love life woes weren’t her concern at the moment. She’d follow up on that later, but in the meantime, she hoped Max hadn’t sensed the mixed feelings she had about the young woman.
“Thanks for all of your hard work. See you later!” Callie called to Max as she picked up her purse and waved goodbye before heading out the front door. She wasn’t taking any chances with the alley tonight.
Callie powered the VW along Lake Shore Drive until she arrived at the modern structure that was Bodies by the Bay. She could see several people in various stages of exercise through the gleaming glass windows. Patrons of all shapes and sizes were running on treadmills and riding exercise
bikes with their eyes glued to flat screen TVs. Some chose to focus on the peaceful panorama the calm waters provided, and some wore ear buds so that they could work out to their own private soundtrack. The place looked as busy as ever.
Callie all but sprinted up the steps. Jane’s BMW wasn’t there: check one.
Stepping aside to allow a gaggle of young women in brightly colored workout gear to pass by, she strode purposefully through the doors and straight to the customer service desk. A young woman wearing a tight tank top with a “Bodies by the Bay” logo greeted her. “Hi, welcome to Bodies by the Bay! What can I do for you?” She smiled broadly, showing gleaming white teeth that shone from her friendly, freckled face.
Callie was happy to be able to share one piece of truth among all of the lies she was about to tell. “I’ve come about my membership card. My wallet was stolen and I lost all of my cards.”
The young woman’s face fell. “I’m sorry, but you need I.D. to have a card here. I can look you up in the computer, but without any I.D. I can’t reinstate your card. It’s a center policy. We want to have security for our customers. Especially because,” the girl lowered her voice to a whisper. “Someone was attacked here recently. You can’t be too careful.”
Callie pretended to ponder this scenario. “You’re right. Well, let me see.” Again, she pretended to think this over. “I know.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m a friend and colleague of Jane Willoughby, the owner. Do you mind if I pop in her office? Maybe she can help me.”
The friendly young woman looked crestfallen; for the second time in just a few minutes she had to deliver bad news to Callie. “I’m so sorry, but Jane isn’t here right now.”
“Oh.” Callie feigned surprise. “Well, in that case, let me talk to her assistant. They might be able to tell me when she’ll be in.”
