Spiced and Iced (A Callie's Kitchen Mystery Book 2)

by Jenny Kales

  Callie put on oven mitts and lowered the oven door. She’d leave the topic for the time being – but it was troubling.

  “Yes, I would love that,” Callie said, hoping to placate her co-worker. She set the cookie sheets on the countertop, being careful not to let the hot surfaces touch her. “Let me slice them first; they’ve got to be baked twice.” Callie went about her business as Piper snapped what she called “action shots” with her iPhone, and finally took some stills of the cookie slices lying prettily in the pans before Callie returned the cookie sheets to the oven.

  “The cookies look great,” Piper said, flipping through her phone. “You’ll definitely want to use some of these pics.” Callie peered over Piper’s shoulder at the photos and smiled at the images of her messy hair pulled into a topknot, and her floury apron and hands. One thing you could say for her: she looked like she was working hard.

  “I like them,” Callie said. “Go ahead and put one of them up on our Facebook and Instagram accounts.” Callie was happy with how much she’d caught up with the social media challenges presented to modern small businesspeople. Piper had been a big part of that, she had to admit.

  She turned to Piper who was busily gathering up her things and not looking at her. “Gotta go,” Piper chirped, visibly relieved that the conversation was coming to a close. “I’ll get your pictures up as soon as I can but I’ll be late for class if I don’t leave now. Especially with all of this snow.”

  “It’s snowing – again?” Callie asked, following Piper to the door so that she could inspect the skies. Sure enough, fluffy white flakes were descending from oppressive gray clouds: a typical Wisconsin winter day.

  “Bye!” Piper called, barely recognizable in her hat, coat and scarf that covered half of her face. In addition to snow, the temperature had dropped and it felt about 20 degrees outside. “Be careful!” Callie called back and Piper gave her a thumbs-up sign. What felt like a wall of frigid air blasted her as she opened the door. Quickly, she slammed it shut and retreated to her warm kitchen.

  Well, that was awkward. Callie slumped against the countertop. And worrisome. Frankly, someone following a young woman in a parking lot sounded an awful lot like reports she’d heard about Bix. Would he follow a woman he was interested in, in the hopes that it would drive her closer to him? If so, that was sick. Callie sighed deeply. And this was the guy her normally sane and sophisticated best friend was seeing. Sheesh.

  The oven timer binged again. Worrying about her personal life and analyzing potential suspects would have to wait. Paxemathia were calling.

  * * *

  That night, after closing up shop for the day, Callie found herself driving the short distance to George’s house for a family dinner. George had called her at work to invite her, just as she was pulling another batch of paxemathia out of the oven.

  Sweetie and Viv would be there, of course, and Olivia was in the back seat of the car with Koukla, who her daughter insisted should be able to join the gathering. Olivia was chatting away about school and excited to be visiting Sweetie, her new obsession.

  Callie had tactfully refrained from asking if Kathy would be joining them. Spending nights at home alone just didn’t have the same charm it once did. Every creak of the floorboards, every lashing of wind, every bark from little Koukla convinced her that something evil was lurking. With resignation, Callie realized she’d probably feel that way until Natalie’s killer was apprehended.

  Callie’s car crunched over the packed snow as she parked in front of George’s cozy house. It was pitch dark and bitingly cold, but white Christmas lights on the evergreens, and the glow from the lamps in her father’s picture window were inviting and warm. Olivia took Koukla gently out of her kennel that had been strapped and secured in the back seat, and grabbed her leash. The two of them scampered up the walkway, while Callie locked up the car. Carefully, she balanced the box of Greek biscotti she’d brought from Callie’s Kitchen and took cautious steps up the pathway in her chunky-heeled leather boots, silently admonishing herself for not wearing her more practical, waterproof footwear.

  Olivia had already pressed the doorbell, so Callie was quickly ushered into George’s small living room. This was Callie’s family home growing up and not much had changed – from the walls covered with Greek art, to the comfortable leather sofa, now worn around the edges, but sublimely comfortable. Callie took off her snow-covered boots and placed them next to Olivia’s on a small rug by the front door while Koukla barked excitedly and ran around in little circles around everyone’s feet.

  Callie hugged her father tightly, then Viv and Sweetie, who smelled like butter. “Cooking again, Sweetie?” she asked with a smile and the older woman smiled, showing her one dimple. “For you – yes!”

  “Hello, dear,” Viv greeted her granddaughter with an embrace. “I’m so glad you could make it. Any news about Natalie?”

  “Viv!” scolded Sweetie, with a smile. “We have nice dinner, no talk of murder.”

  “You’re right,” Viv said apologetically. “We’ll talk about it after dinner,” she said with a firm nod.

  “Of course!” Sweetie nodded firmly. “But not now. Now we have nice time.”

  Those two. Callie left the two ladies to fawn over Koukla as she followed George into the kitchen. From her quick scan of the house, he didn’t seem to be harboring any surprise guests. “Thanks for having us over, Dad. What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing, all good!” George washed his hands. The rich smell of roasting meat coming from the oven was excruciatingly delicious. “I made Greek meatloaf, vegetables, tzatziki, and a little spinach pie left over from the other night. I’ve got bread, feta cheese, what else?” Even though tzatziki – a luscious cucumber yogurt sauce flavored with garlic – was a traditional summer dish, it was excellent on meats and pita bread and George served it year round.

  “It already sounds like enough to feed an army, Dad.” She put her arm around his shoulders. “Sounds great. Should I tell Olivia to go wash her hands?”

  “Yes, everything is nearly ready.” George gave Callie a squeeze and walked over to the oven to check his meatloaf. “Correction. Ready now!” He removed a gigantic roasting pan from the oven and placed it on a large trivet before turning to Callie. “Can you call everyone to the table?”

  Callie gathered the troops and everyone seated themselves around George’s rectangular table, covered in a beige cloth with an open crochet pattern, no doubt created by his mother years ago in Greece. So, Callie thought, relieved. No sign of Kathy and no eligible bachelor for Callie to meet. This might just be a nice, calm, family dinner after all.

  George filled everyone’s glasses with his favorite full-bodied red wine, while Callie poured grape juice in Olivia’s tumbler. Before eating, he said a short grace, and then nodded at the group. “A toast! Here’s to Sweetie for joining us all the way from the old country for Christmas.”

  They all clinked glasses and sipped their wine while smiling at Sweetie who was blushing prettily. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and she was wearing a thick sweater with a reindeer on it. Callie looked more closely – it looked like it came from a local store in town. “I like your sweater,” she said to her cousin, passing her a platter of roasted potatoes, zucchini and carrots that had been tossed in olive oil and lemon before going into the oven with the meatloaf.

  “Thanks. Viv get it for me,” she said, taking a generous portion of the vegetables before passing it to Olivia.

  “Yes, Sweetie and I have been seeing quite a lot of each other,” Viv said with a smile.

  “Yes, we even go to The English Country Inn,” Sweetie said innocently. “Just look around, no big deal.”

  “What?” Callie said. “You did?” She looked at her grandmother with exasperation. “They’re going to get suspicious if we all start showing up there.”

  Viv waved her fork in the air, unconcerned. “Don’t worry. I already thought of that. I pretended I wanted to have an event there and
I ended up talking to Melody Cartwright. She’s filling in for Natalie Underwood, apparently. She was very nice, if a bit harried.”

  “Okay, sorry. Did you find any new information?” Callie wasn’t aware that she was leaning forward in her eagerness.

  “I thought you didn’t want us to investigate…” Viv teased.

  “I didn’t. I don’t. But as long as you were there, I figured I might as well ask.” Callie rationalized. “Besides tipping them off, I don’t want you and Sweetie to get hurt. There is a killer out there, after all.”

  “I know, Callie. It is frightening, but I promise, we were careful.” Viv had the good grace to look a bit sheepish.

  “We fine,” Sweetie said stoutly, forking a piece of spanakopita onto her plate. “Anyway, nobody think I understand English. But I no hear much, just Melody tell someone on phone to stop bothering her.”

  Didn’t hear much? It sounded pretty juicy to Callie, though it could be as innocent as a reporter calling – or even a fight with a boyfriend. “Sweetie, not that I condone eavesdropping, but did you happen to hear who she was talking to?”

  “I no hear.” Sweetie took a huge bite of meatloaf and chewed contentedly. Swallowing, she raised her eyebrows and said eagerly, “I go back, hear more if you want.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Callie said quickly. She turned to Viv. “Look, I appreciate the help. I just don’t want you two to get hurt. Promise me.”

  “Callie,” Viv answered, looking a bit offended. “We were just talking to Melody. Don’t worry. Anyway, do you think I would have lasted so many years if I didn’t know how to take care of myself?”

  “Sorry, Grandma. Of course not.” Callie busied herself with her food. “Just look out, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “I will, dear. And you as well.”

  George finally spoke up. “Glykeria, enough with the snooping. It’s bad enough that Callie is involved. I didn’t invite you here from Greece to play detective.”

  Oh boy, thought Callie. Here we go.

  “George, you my cousin and I love you,” Sweetie held her head high. “But is boring hanging around the house. I want go out, see Crystal Bay. Beautiful snow, nice people. You out working, with girlfriend, I find things to do.”

  The two exchanged some heated words in Greek. Callie thought she caught “donkey” and “nosy” but they were speaking too rapidly for her to get much more. Olivia looked at the two with interest, her gaze rapt. When George noticed his granddaughter taking in the argument with wide eyes, he stopped talking.

  “Glykeria, I’ll spend more time with you all. Sorry, I’ve been very busy.” He cast a glance at Callie, who stared back at him. “Calliope, the same goes for you. The holidays are busy but family comes first.”

  “Don't worry, Dad,” Callie answered. “The holidays have been busy at Callie’s Kitchen, too. And no one begrudges you a social life…” she said slowly, trying to be magnanimous. Olivia interrupted.

  “Yeah, Dad’s busy, too,” Olivia said, happy to have a topic that may be of interest to the adults at the table. “He and Raine think they found a house in Crystal Bay. Mom already knows, I told her about it.” Olivia beamed. “Right near our house. I could see Dad every day!”

  “Yes, you did mention that to me, honey. I remember. Dad,” Callie said, turning to George, whose face was a bit flushed. “What does Kathy say about that? Any news on whether or not she found a house for Hugh and Raine yet?”

  “Not really,” George answered, looking away. “Well, how is the food? Olivia? Glykeria? Viv?” Fine, change the subject, Dad. Callie decided to corner him in the kitchen later, under the guise of dishwashing.

  “It’s great, Pappou,” answered Olivia, scooping up more spanakopita. Koukla yipped and George tossed her a small piece of meatloaf.

  “Olivia, you no eat nothing,” Sweetie accused, looking at the girl’s plate. That was what she always said, even though everyone had had seconds, if not thirds. Knowing the drill, Olivia shrugged it off. “I ate a lot, Sweetie,” she said. “This is my third piece of meatloaf.”

  “OK, honey. Is dessert coming so you eat that, too. I make cookies and a honey cake.”

  George stood up. “I’ll make coffee,” he announced, apparently eager to get out of the conversation involving Kathy.

  “I’ll help you, Dad,” Callie answered, gathering up a few empty plates. The two of them had a brief stare-down until George sighed resignedly. “Thank you, Calliope.”

  Callie followed George to the sink where he started running water, full force. She addressed him in a loud whisper, not wanting the others to hear, but needing to compete with the blast of the faucet. “Dad, you know I love you and I’m happy for you if you met someone. But I want to be honest. It’s really hard for me to think of Hugh moving so close to my house. I’ve moved on, of course, and I want Olivia to see her dad, but it’s awkward. It’s hard for me to understand why you might be encouraging this to happen.”

  George started filling the kettle with water for the Greek coffee he was preparing. He put it on the stove and turned to his daughter. “Callie, there is a reason for everything I do. Just trust me.”

  “What ‘reason’ are you talking about?”

  “I said, I’ll tell you later. Not now.” George handed some dirty plates to Callie and she rinsed them in the sink.

  Callie tried again. “Dad. Can’t you at least give me a hint? And what about you and Kathy?” She hesitated and asked in a softer tone. “Is it serious?”

  “Oh, Calliope. Everything is serious when you’re my age. But you have the wrong idea. Kathy is a nice lady. Very nice. But that’s all I can say now. I promise I’ll tell more when I can.”

  Callie felt her anger bubble up like the water on the stove. “Fine. Well, I guess this is payback time for not liking the guy I’m dating,” she blurted and instantly regretted it when she saw George’s crestfallen face.

  “No, Callie. You’re wrong. It’s not that at all. I’m disappointed you would think that.” He filled the briki, the copper pot especially for making Greek coffee, with water and put it on the stove. Later, when the water boiled, he would add sugar and strong ground coffee. Only the thick, sweet top portion of the coffee would be drunk by the guests; the grounds would settle to the bottom of the cup.

  By the set of his shoulders, it was obvious to Callie that George wouldn’t say another word about the Kathy/Hugh conundrum. Wordlessly, Callie placed cookies and cake on a platter, got out dessert plates and brought then into the dining room to oohs and aahs. George gave everyone a cup of sweet Greek coffee and Sweetie offered to read the coffee grounds once everyone had finished the dark, rich drink.

  When she came to Callie, she frowned. “You see this ledge? That means you go on a trip near water. This is boat.”

  “Do mine, do mine!” Olivia begged. She’d been given Greek coffee as a special treat and Callie hoped it wouldn’t keep her up all night.

  “Ah yes. See this ledge? This is bed. You sleeping here tonight.” She smiled at Callie. “If okay with your mother.”

  “Yes, yes! A sleepover! Can I, Mom?” Olivia was bouncing up and down in her chair and Callie couldn’t help but laugh, nodding her assent. “I should get going,” she said. “Lots of baking tomorrow.”

  Everyone kissed and hugged goodbye, extensively, and then finally, Callie picked up Koukla and braved the cold.

  The streets were dark and eerily silent, lulling a sleepy Callie, who was fighting fatigue despite the Greek coffee. She was approaching a stop sign when she became aware of lights filling the back window of her car. The vehicle was large and the headlights were so bright that Callie couldn’t make out what kind of car it was.

  When it didn’t appear to be stopping or even slowing down, Callie swerved to the right to avoid a collision, but the roads were slippery and she’d swerved too sharply. Her car bumped and thumped into a nearby ditch. Callie screamed for Koukla and felt a large jolt to her jaw as the car came to a rocky halt.

&nb
sp; Twelve

  Callie was freezing cold and her jaw was in serious pain. Her brain felt sluggish and she wondered if she’d blacked out for a moment. “Koukla,” she tried to shout, but her voice emerged as a weak half-whisper.

  She turned her head, wincing, and looked back at Koukla, who was in her tipped-over kennel, wagging her tail and whimpering at her mistress. “Are you all right, baby?” she asked the little dog who gave a loud, piercing bark. She seemed all right, thank goodness. Now – how to get out of the car?

  Callie considered her dilemma with a pounding heart. The car listed to the side and the driver-side door was jammed. Unfortunately, the passenger side was wedged against a snowbank.

  It appeared that the hardened snowdrift had prevented a full roll-over and, for the first time in her life, Callie thanked the Wisconsin winters for being icy and cold. She realized that her jaw was so sore because the airbags had punched in her in the face when they deployed.

  Where was the other car? Callie shook her head, causing a wave of nausea to roll over her. She looked out the windshield and saw red taillights blazing several hundred feet in front of her. A figure stood in the middle of the road. As Callie watched, the person took a few steps closer to her car, crouching down as if to see inside.

  Callie could just about make out a shape, dressed all in black or some other dark color. She tried to make out the features, but the darkness and falling snow on her windshield made that impossible.

  Shifting in her seat, Callie tried to roll down the window to call for help, but it wouldn’t budge. “Help!” she called, yelling as loudly as she could. “I’m stuck in here!”

  But the figure was backing away from her car. Suddenly, the shape started running. Bright taillights flashed once again, blinding her. She blinked as the vehicle that had run her off the road sped away with a squeal of tires.

  So much for help from the other motorist – she was going to have to find a way out alone. What a jerk.