by Jenny Kales
“It feels like a betrayal?” Viv asked gently, picking up Callie’s train of thought.
“Yes. I guess so.” Callie looked at Viv. “I know how stupid that sounds.”
“Not so stupid,” Viv said softly. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Anyway, you know George doesn’t want you unhappy. That’s the last thing he wants.”
“Let me get straight,” Sweetie broke in, already on her fourth cookie. She brushed crumbs off her sweater and continued. “George date woman related to … who? You ex-husband?”
“Yes,” Callie said, her face growing hot. “Sorry. I don’t mean to air all of our dirty laundry. The woman dad is out with tonight is the aunt of my ex-husband’s new wife. It’s a little confusing, I admit.”
Sweetie looked perplexed for a minute and Callie was worried that the convoluted way she had described the relationship was bumping into a language barrier. But, Sweetie’s next words erased that theory. Unfortunately.
“So.” Sweetie said, narrowing her beautiful dark brown eyes and tossing her shoulder-length dyed auburn hair. Uh-oh, Callie thought. “George date woman related to evil woman who steal you husband? He act like donkey.”
“No, Sweetie,” Callie was embarrassed. “It’s not like that at all. No one stole my husband. Let’s wait and see what happens. Maybe we’re way ahead of ourselves.”
“OK,” Sweetie agreed, but looked skeptical. “But I talk to George for you, if you want.”
“Thank you, Sweetie, but no. That’s not necessary.” Callie didn’t want to imagine the fireworks that would ensue if these two got into a discussion of how George should live his life. Anyway, Callie didn’t want to be selfish and hypocritical. If she didn’t want George interfering with her way of life, then how could she interfere with his?
“Let’s change the subject,” Viv offered and delicately took another cookie off of the plate. Callie had already inhaled two of the delicious cookies and was contemplating a third. Sweetie was some baker. “Not that this is a cheerier topic,” Viv said, lowering her voice a bit. “But what happened the other day? Can you tell us anything about the murder of poor Natalie?”
After another large gulp of coffee for fortification, Callie gave Viv and Sweetie the basic details of Natalie’s murder and her role as witness.
Viv shook her head and Sweetie managed to look grim, while chewing what had to be her sixth cookie. “How terrible,” Viv said. “And that poor couple engaged to be married. I hope this doesn’t poison their happiness.”
“I hope not,” Callie said, recalling that their argument in the aftermath of the murder hinted at an unhappiness already present.
“So what now? Who do the police suspect? And what does Detective Sands have to say about all of this?” Viv wanted to know.
“I would imagine there are many suspects,” Callie answered. “Probably too many. However, this time I’m not one of them, thank goodness. That’s really all I can say. I’m sure you know that Sands wouldn’t want me to discuss the details with anyone outside of the investigation.”
“Oh, my dear, of course not, though it was more informative when you could discuss such things with us. The pitfalls of dating a law enforcement officer!” Viv's bright blue eyes twinkled at Callie. She liked Detective Sands, unlike George, who was wary of him after he had suspected his darling daughter of murder fairly recently.
“Well” Viv said, sipping her coffee. “Let’s hope the police take care of this and soon. And you stay out of harm’s way,” Viv said pointedly to her granddaughter. “No more bumps on the head or worse,” she intoned, obviously still upset at Callie’s involvement in a previous Crystal Bay murder.
“I’ll try,” Callie said wryly. “But, there are one or two odd things that don’t add up.” She told the two women about Melody Cartwright, the Courier article and the fact that Melody appeared to be lying about the business status at the inn.
“That’s a little bit strange,” Viv agreed. “But look at it this way: Her colleague has just been murdered. Maybe you can talk to her again in a few days when she’s calmed down.” Viv frowned, apparently deep in thought, and suddenly, brightened. Callie could nearly see the light bulb go off over her grandmother’s head.
“I know,” Viv said with triumph in her voice. “Sweetie and I can talk to Melody. Didn’t you say she puts on tea parties for young girls? Maybe Olivia would like to have one. That way, we can cozy up to Melody and maybe she’ll talk to us.”
“I perfect for job,” Sweetie chimed in. “People think I no understand English. Maybe I hear something good!”
Callie had to laugh at her two enthusiastic amateur sleuths. “I don’t know, but thanks for the offer. I’m already helping Melody with the annual Christmas Tea. It could be great publicity for the baked goods at Callie’s Kitchen – and you never know, I could get some inside information. Or maybe not,” Callie said, thinking about Melody’s closemouthed approach that afternoon.
She sighed as she considered her options. “I agree that we have to find some way to get Melody to open up. I think she might be downplaying trouble at the inn because she’s got her new book coming out. Anyway, with the holidays, her tea parties are probably already booked for the season. And I really don’t want to involve Olivia in all of this.”
The three women sipped coffee and were silent for a moment, thinking. Koukla trotted into the room and batted Callie’s ankles with her paws until Callie absently picked her up and placed her on her lap. The dog promptly curled herself into a ball and sighed with contentment.
“Wait. This might work,” Callie said after a few minutes of furrowed brows and anxiously nibbled cookies. “Why don’t I offer to do something for Melody’s upcoming book? Like a launch party or something like that. Maybe I can offer to host it at Callie’s Kitchen and I can make some of the tea party foods she talks about in her book. She’ll probably be busy and would welcome the help – especially with the food. The only thing is that her book comes out very soon. Do you think it’s too late to ask her?”
“Only one way to find out,” Viv said briskly. “It’s a wonderful idea. Melody will probably be flattered by your interest. Plus, it will give you an excuse to talk to her.”
“I like,” Sweetie said, motioning to Koukla to come sit with her. Koukla wiggled until Callie placed her on the floor. The little Yorkie ran to Sweetie and was quickly nestled in her warm embrace. Callie was pretty sure she saw Sweetie sneak a cookie piece to her dog but she didn’t say anything.
“That’s it, then. Our plan, such as it is,” Callie said, pouring more coffee. “I really do like Melody and would like to help her with her book launch. I guess this way I can kill two birds with one stone – help her AND get info.”
Viv shuddered. “Ugh. Don’t say ‘kill.’ I’m still in shock about Natalie. Such a sweet young woman and always kind to me.”
“I didn’t know you knew Natalie,” Callie said, though she wasn’t surprised. Viv and George knew just about everyone one way or another, having lived in Crystal Bay so many years.
“I did know her, but not well. We attended the same ballroom dance class at that new studio over the dress shop in town. It was only for a few weeks but it was a hoot!”
“Ballroom dance class? Did Natalie have an occasion she was preparing for? That’s usually why people take those kinds of classes, though not always,” Callie asked Viv, puzzled.
“She came to the dance lessons with a tall young fellow. He was quite handsome and had a strange name. He wasn’t super-friendly to the group, in my opinion, but they certainly looked like they were having fun together. Laughing, talking, you know. Her young man may have even stolen a kiss now and then.”
Callie felt Sweetie’s delicious cookies turn to stone in her stomach. “His name wasn’t Bix Buckman by any chance, was it?”
“Yes, that was it! Bix. Why do you ask, dear? Do you know him?”
“Uh, sort of,” Callie said, wanting to protect Sam.
Bix Buckman and Natalie? Real
ly?
Nick Hawkins, Lexy Dayton’s would-be groom had clearly had a soft spot for Natalie. So did Max. And now Bix? Who knew who else? Natalie had inspired much admiration from Crystal Bay’s young men. But had she also inspired anger – enough anger to kill?
* * *
Olivia had finally been asked to join the women, consuming her fair share of cookies and two cups of hot chocolate. The little group had chatted and laughed with no mention of murder, George’s romantic life or other controversial topics. No doubt about it, having Viv and Sweetie there had lifted Callie’s spirits considerably. It was late when Viv and Sweetie bundled themselves up against the elements and headed home, with promises to keep in touch.
“I like Sweetie,” Olivia said sleepily as Callie tucked her in. “She’s funny.”
“Yes,” Callie agreed. “I like her a lot, too. In fact, I visited her when I was just about your age. In Greece.”
“I know, you told me. You’ll take me there someday, right?”
“Yes. I hope so. Maybe we can even stay with Sweetie.”
“OK,” Olivia mumbled, pulling the covers up to her chin. Suddenly her eyes popped wide open.
“What is it?” Callie admonished. “Time to go to sleep.”
“I know, but I forgot to tell you something. Dad thinks that he and Raine might have found the perfect house!”
“Oh they did?” Callie tried to keep her voice neutral.
“Yup! And guess what – it’s only two blocks away from our house!”
Seven
After Olivia’s bombshell about her father’s house-hunting activities, and unwelcome images of Natalie’s lifeless form in the water, Callie didn’t think she’d be able to sleep. However, exhaustion caused her to sleep like a log. Her alarm woke her at 6:30. It was still dark outside and the house was cold. Callie was disoriented. She’d slept so soundly that she had nearly forgotten the horrific events at the inn and to wake up was to remember anew.
Heaving herself out of bed, Callie turned up the thermostat and made herself a cup of coffee while trying not to think about Hugh. She couldn’t tell him what to do or where to go – but she sure wished that she could.
The air was so glacial that Callie felt as if she were inhaling icicles as she started up her car, after seeing Olivia to the school bus. Callie was wearing her warmest down jacket, a hat, thick gloves and boots, but still she shivered as she scraped ice off of her windows.
On the ride to work, Callie’s mind wouldn’t stop churning. She had taken on too many projects. Emma was a good friend and she wanted to help her. However, her own business wasn’t exactly out of the woods after recent difficulties. She needed to take care of her clientele, spend time with her daughter – and she missed Sands. Why had she agreed to help figure out what was rotten at The English Country Inn?
As she pulled into a parking space near work, she realized that she wanted to help find the killer, not only to help Emma, but to find justice for this young woman who was struck down so tragically. She was shaken and angered by Natalie’s death. It just wasn’t right.
Callie unlocked the back entrance of her shop and walked in to find Max and Piper perusing food pictures on Piper’s phone that she’d taken earlier that week.
“Hi Callie,” Max said. Today he wore a tight blue T-shirt with the Callie’s Kitchen logo and well-worn, ripped jeans. They were fashionably tattered, but Callie smiled as she thought of what Viv would say: Can I help sew those jeans for you? It looks like they’ve been through a shredder.
Max seemed excited about something. “We’ve got some good shots of the food. Piper’s going to load them onto Instagram.”
“Some of the customers were getting in on the act the other day,” Piper explained, scrolling through pictures of loukoumades, the Greek doughnuts that Callie’s Kitchen was famous for, along with photos of iced gingerbread loaves, especially for the Christmas season, and buttery mini coffee cakes. Callie smiled at her customers’ antics – she was so thrilled to have them back, she didn’t care how many pictures they photo bombed!
“I can always crop the people out of these shots,” Piper was explaining. As usual, she was wearing colorful vintage clothing, including a red A-line dress topped with a black cardigan sporting a vintage Christmas tree pin. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Callie squinted at the pictures, surprised to see Nick Hawkins in the background of one of them. She didn’t remember seeing him, but put it down to being preoccupied.
“Hmmm,” Callie considered. “Maybe we should keep a couple of these as is. After all, people like to see and hear about themselves on social media.”
“I’m impressed,” Max said, only half-teasing. “You’re finally catching on to the ways of the 21st century.”
Callie decided to ignore his innocent jibe. “So what’s the status so far today?”
“I’ve got some more gingerbread cake in the oven and we’ve got pastitsio in the coolers out front.” Piper smiled at the mention of the delectable dish, a delicious mélange of ground meat, tomato sauce, spices and a luscious topping.
“Great. I guess I’ll get a head start and make the beef stew and biscuits for tomorrow.” Besides offering her favorite Greek dishes, Callie’s Kitchen was known for serving up Midwestern comfort food classics. Callie had eaten both styles of food growing up and loved them both. “Max, I could use you out front when you’re done here.”
“You bet.” Max stood up and Piper jumped up with him. “I’d better go,” the young woman said with a regretful look at Max. “I need to get to class soon, anyway.”
Piper was a student at Crystal Bay College and worked at Callie’s Kitchen for college credit in social media and communications, which was one reason she was constantly updating the Instagram and Facebook pages for Callie’s Kitchen. It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it – that is, if you wanted to compete in today’s marketplace.
Wrapped in a fluffy fake fur coat, Piper said goodbye to Max and then called to Callie. “Now that you’ve seen the pictures, I’ll go ahead and load them onto all of our social media.”
Callie nodded her approval. “Thanks, Piper!” A blast of freezing cold air blew through the kitchen, which was warm and fragrant with the smell of gingerbread, cinnamon and lemons for the gingerbread icing, egg-lemon soup and just about every other dish at Callie’s Kitchen. She truly could never have enough lemons on hand.
Alone in the kitchen at last. Callie started browning beef cubes for her stew. She added onions, a smidge of garlic, stock and a bay leaf, and then covered the mixture to cook at a slow heat. She was just chopping up some carrots and potatoes when Max stuck his head in the kitchen door, a wry smile on his face.
“Someone to see you,” he said. “They said they really need to talk to the owner.”
Terrific. “OK, just a second,” Callie said, wiping her hands on her apron, a small knot of anxiety building. And just when she had gotten into a peaceful cooking groove, too.
But when she entered the front of her shop, the anxiety disappeared and was replaced by an equally troubling reaction. Butterflies.
Sands was standing expectantly behind the counter, a small poinsettia plant in his hand. Callie glanced at Max who was grinning back at her.
“Good one, Max.” she said with a smile. “You had me going there for a minute.”
Max shrugged. “Don’t look at me. It was his idea.”
Callie went around the counter to join Sands, who was wearing one of his dark wool coats, snowflakes still melting on the lapels. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I missed you,” he said.
“Alrighty, then, I’ll just go, uh, check on the gingerbread,” Max said, uncomfortable with the public display of affection. He walked quickly through the half-door and Callie heard him ostentatiously singing to himself, as if to prove he wasn’t paying attention to them, while he moved around pots and pans.
Callie smiled up at Sands and took the proffered poinsettia plant. “Some Christmas cheer for yo
u,” he said. “Although, this place already has quite a bit of it. And that’s not even including its lovely owner.”
Callie looked around her shop, seeing it through the eyes of a customer – or Sands, for that matter. Max and Piper had done a beautiful job bringing a Christmas feeling to Callie’s Kitchen. The entire space sparkled with white Christmas lights and live mini-Christmas trees on every table. The front window display had a red wooden sled to hold cake stands filled with baked goods. Glittering faux snow with miniature trees, reindeer, candy canes and Santas sparkled from glass mason jars throughout the shop. The effect was festive, whimsical and inviting.
Callie brushed the remaining snow off of Sands’ lapels and he caught her hand in his.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said. “But you’ve got a job to do. I understand that.”
“Ah, yes. The job. It has kept me busy.” Callie noticed upon closer inspection that Sands’ eyes were blood-shot and he could use a shave. She was touched that he had taken the time to bring her a present when he should have been resting – or more likely, working.
“Thanks, this is beautiful,” she said, setting the red flowering plant on a nearby table. “It was thoughtful of you.”
“Sorry that I’ve been like the Invisible Man lately,” Sands said, smiling at Callie. He squeezed her hand and slowly released it.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve been busy working on Natalie’s murder. It’s scary to think that there’s a killer out there, wandering around.” Callie shivered. “Anyway, I think I may have found a way to combine your work with us getting to spend some time together.”
“How so?” Sands asked, narrowing his hazel eyes. “Callie, what are you up to?”
Callie filled him in on the connection between the ballroom dance class, Bix Buckman and Natalie, the murder victim.
