by Jenny Kales
“Sam!” Callie greeted her friend as if they hadn’t met for years. “Come in, please.”
She led Samantha by the arm, possibly a little too enthusiastically. “Okay, okay, I’m here,” Sam protested, pulling herself from Callie’s grasp. “No need to pull.”
Callie shot Sam a desperate look and ushered her further into the room so she could see the unexpected guest seated on her sofa with her traitorous dog. “Samantha, you know Detective Sands.”
Sands had risen from the sofa and Callie noticed Sam taking in his long blue-jean clad legs and crisp white shirt with an appraising eye before her mascaraed lashes suddenly started blinking. Or was she batting them at Sands? Was Sam flirting?
“Detective Sands. What a surprise.” Sam looked from one to the other.
“Nice to see you too, Ms. Madine,” Sands offered smoothly. “I’m just following up on a few things.”
“Oh, really? Well, I hope you have some good news for us. This has gone on long enough.”
“Sam, please. Have a seat. The detective was just telling me to watch my back, especially now that Lucille from the bank has been attacked.”
Sands stood up abruptly. “I’ve said all I need to for now. I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening. Ms. Costas, I’m sure we will need to speak again.”
Wonderful. That was probably going to involve an “official visit.”
Callie shrugged at Sam, got up and saw the detective to the door. He had a gentle, loping walk, probably because he was so tall. “Thanks for stopping by,” she said. “But truly, I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, I suppose you can.” Sands stopped just outside the door. She was surprised at the warmth she felt when their eyes met this time. “Please make sure that you remain cautious, especially with a young daughter.”
Callie was reminded of the picture of the little girl on Sands’ desk she’d observed during the horrible trip to the Crystal Bay police station.
“Yes, of course. Good night,” she said and closed the door. Her breath, which she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, let out with a whoosh. Was his purpose in visiting to confuse her? If so, Sands had done a bang-up job.
Fourteen
“What was that all about?” Samantha sounded amused.
Callie flopped on the couch next to her friend. “I have no idea. I thought he was you.”
“It’s difficult to mistake him for me,” Sam said, kicking off her heels. “He’s much taller than me and much more handsome.”
“Very funny,” Callie answered. She decided to quiet her inner turmoil by playing hostess. “Sam, what can I get you? I’ve got so much food and those cookies you wanted. I’ve got wine, too.”
“Thanks, I’ll have a glass as long as you’re already up. But you know you don’t have to wait on me.” Sam sounded weary.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Callie already on the move to the kitchen. “How about food?” she called out to her friend.
“Nah,” Sam called back. “I’m not that hungry. Too tired.”
Callie had learned that people always refuse food at first and then end up wanting to eat. To save a trip to the kitchen later, she put together a hummus and pita bread plate with some raw veggies and dug a half-full bottle of Riesling out of the back of the refrigerator. Placing everything on a tray, Callie sauntered back into the living room where Sam was flicking through her android phone, a frown creasing the well-preserved skin between her eyes.
“Sorry, no phones allowed. It’s time to relax.” Over Sam’s weak protests, Callie gently removed the phone from her friend’s manicured hand and put it on a side table.
“Anyway,” she said, placing the tray within Sam’s reach and handing her the glass of chilled Riesling, “since Sands was just asking me about it, let’s start with the attack on Lucille. Anything new on that front?”
“Not really.” Sam took a sip of wine and raised it in half toast to Callie before continuing. “Bodies by the Bay doesn’t have security cameras. If you think about it, why would they?” Sam put her wineglass on the table in front of her and leaned back on the sofa cushions. “The fitness center is very low crime. Heck, the whole town of Crystal Bay has been low crime. Petty crime, yes. Kids stealing bicycles. Some DUIs. Murder and attempted murder, not so much.” She started munching on the goodies that Callie had placed before her.
“I’m guessing they will install them now,” she said through a mouth of food. “Sorry, I’m starving after all.”
“That’s disappointing about the security cameras,” Callie agreed. “What I can’t figure is who would risk trying to kill Lucille with people still in the vicinity? Maybe whoever did it was desperate.”
“Jane Willoughby is high on my personal list of suspects,” said Samantha. “Something weird is going on at Bodies by the Bay.” Samantha shook her head.
“I agree that something strange is going on there,” Callie finally said. “But I’m not sure it has to do with Lucille’s injury in the whirlpool.”
Samantha leaned eagerly towards Callie. “What?”
Callie picked up her wine and put it down again. “Max has a friend named Piper. He recommended her to me regarding social networking for my shop. The other day I was at Bodies by the Bay and I met her. Piper shared with me that they are having a rash of strange theft regarding syrup of ipecac. It makes you, uh, toss your cookies.”
Samantha abruptly dropped the pita chip, laden with luscious garlicky hummus, that she’d been about to pop into her mouth. “Callie, wait a minute…”
“I know. It’s disgusting,” Callie continued before Sam could finish. “Piper, Max’s friend, said it had become a problem. She was wondering why Jane even stocked it anymore. It used to be an over-the-counter drug and was used for poison control, you know. In case someone had an accidental ingestion of something. Now, Piper is claiming that people are using it to purge.”
“Callie, you’re not going to believe this. The word at the office is that a strange substance was found in the food at Drew’s house: syrup of ipecac.”
Callie felt her mouth fall open in disbelief as Samantha came over and sat next to her on the sofa. Sam faced Callie. “I don’t know why he would have done that, so don’t jump to conclusions. We don’t even know that he was the one that did it.”
“Who else would have done it?” Callie replied, feeling her cheeks burn with humiliation. “Maybe he planned to prank me or something. I guess I never believed that he was so mean-spirited.” Tears stung her eyes and she angrily wiped them away.
“I don’t understand. Why make both of us sick? And when I, uh, found him, he hadn’t been sick.” Callie gulped as the image came back to her. “So obviously, he hadn’t eaten the food. The only thing left is that he wanted to make me sick. I guess that’s why he invited me over.”
Sam took another sip of wine. “It’s just a piece of the puzzle. I can’t figure it out either.”
“I know. It makes no sense.” Callie put her face in her hands. “Nothing has made sense for days.” Sam patted her on the back.
Finally, she raised her head and took a shuddery breath. “I realize now that I really didn’t know Drew at all. For example, the head chef that worked for him told me that Drew hadn’t paid him in over two months. He was furious.”
“Where did you see Drew’s chef?” asked Sam.
“Today. In fact, Sands caught me in the act of snooping. By the way, I found a note in a cookbook. ‘To Drew: With Love from Kitty,” she recited in a sarcastic singsong.
“Oh no,” Sam groaned. “Well, whatever you were able to find, you’ve got to stay away, I’m serious. You’re lucky you’re not calling me from the station right now.”
“I know, but I wanted to see if I could find any clues after they took my knives. Which brings me to my big question: why did they take them? The murder weapon was on the scene.” Callie felt queasy just thinking about it.
“I couldn’t find out much. Obviously, the detective isn’t going
to tell me anything. However, I kept my ear to the ground and spoke to a few crime lab colleagues, off the record, of course. It looks like the police assume that the killer brought their own knife, a professional grade. So it’s possible that they’re trying to match up different knives to see if they could have been contained in a set.”
“Why not take my knives from home?” Callie wondered. “Is that next?”
“I don’t know,” Sam fretted. “I suppose it could happen but don’t give them anything without calling me. Where do you get your knives, by the way?”
“The tools I use at home are good but cheap. A lot of stuff I’ve gotten from basic kitchen departments and such. But at work, I’ve got the professional-grade stuff. I guess I got carried away when I opened my own business and ended up spending a bundle.”
Sam nodded. “Well, I’ll let you know the second I hear anything.”
“OK,” Callie decided to change the subject. “Getting back to this latest incident with Lucille, I was thinking of visiting her when she gets out of the hospital.” Callie started clearing Samantha’s clean plate, mentally congratulating herself on correctly anticipating her friend’s hunger. She walked to the kitchen and placed the plate on the counter, eyeing her knife block as she did so. She shuddered.
“Yeah, OK, but why?” Sam asked when Callie returned to the living room and flopped back down on the sofa.
“She’s a good client, Sam. I’ll bring her some cookies or brownies, something. Her assault may have nothing to do with Drew’s murder, but what if it does?”
“Tread lightly,” Samantha advised. “I don’t know about this. If you do visit her, keep it breezy. You don’t want it to seem like you’re trying to tamper with a witness. As your lawyer and friend, let me tell you that you can’t be too careful. Promise?”
“I promise to be careful. But maybe she will remember something that will help me.”
“All right, Miss Marple. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Speaking of cookies, how about you give me some for the road? I’m beat and I know you have to be at work early tomorrow, too.”
Callie packed up some kourabiethes for Sam and saw her to the door with hugs and promises to keep her snooping to a minimum.
Hauling herself upstairs to bed, Koukla hot on her heels, Callie wondered about the spiked food, Lucille’s attack and especially, Detective Sands and his impromptu visit. Better watch out for that guy, she thought, but with regret, recalling his hazel eyes and sandpapery voice. He was dangerous in more ways than one.
Fifteen
Callie dreamed of the ocean that night, not a peaceful vacation-friendly ocean, green-blue and white with froth, buoying up swimmers as they swam happily in the calm waters. The ocean in her dream was angry and dark, with cold black waves that threatened to pull her under. It took all of her strength to fight the powerful current; it was dragging her down, further and further into the cold, deep water.
Struggling to swim to the top of the imaginary ocean, Callie woke up. No wonder she couldn’t breathe. Her head was under her pillow, the fluffy cotton fabric right near her open mouth. Her blankets and sheets were twisted around her legs and Koukla had retreated to the far corner of the king-sized bed. When she saw her mistress sit up, she ran to her, licking her face. Koukla had a way of making even the worst dream seem ridiculous.
Still, the nightmare left Callie feeling uneasy. Deep down, she believed that she was simply missing something and if that elusive “something” occurred to her, she would be able to figure out who had killed Drew and why Lucille had been attacked.
Suspects were everywhere: Chef Johan, for one. But was he angry enough to kill? Even Mrs. DeWitt didn’t escape scrutiny. Chef Johan had mentioned that she had been at Drew’s bistro shortly before his death. She was strong, physically fit and she lived near Drew’s home.
And what about Jane Willoughby? She was hiding something and she had a link to the substance found in Drew’s food. And Minette. Johan said she’d been at a lunch held at Drew’s bistro. Then there was Jeff and even Jane’s husband. What did he know about the fitness center and the odd goings on there?
What about Piper? And Lucille? Could they somehow be involved? Callie frowned as she thought about them. Each young woman seemed to know a lot of information that they really shouldn’t.
Thinking back to her nightmare, Callie realized that she loved the seasonality of the lake and the bay, the beauty and the peace. Was she simply unexciting or was she smart to play it safe?
Play it safe. Ha! These days Crystal Bay was anything but safe. And speaking of safety today was the day for Olivia to be picked up by her dad. Hugh was leaving work early and arriving at Callie’s Kitchen by four, after Olivia’s school day ended. Callie looked at her clock. It was only seven o’clock, but she had to hurry. Max should be there now, but she wanted to put some extra time in to make up for all of the errands she’d had to run lately.
Callie called to her daughter as she pulled on some capris and a long-sleeved T-shirt with the Callie’s Kitchen logo. Koukla sat on the edge of her bed watching her, no doubt wondering why her usually calm and cuddly owner had been thrashing about earlier like a trout in a net. “It’s time to get up.”
Silence and more silence. “Olivia!” Callie called again, quickly gathering her hair into a ponytail. She peeked into the mirror. These nightmares weren’t doing much for her under-eye circles – and hurriedly put on some concealer, blush, powder and lip gloss. Not ready for a photo shoot, but better.
Callie sat on her daughter’s bed. “Come on, honey. Don’t dilly dally today. We’ve got to get going.”
Olivia buried her head under her covers. “I don’t want to go to Dad’s.” Uh-oh, thought Callie. Not now, I’ve got to go! Inwardly, she fumed but she tried to keep the frustration out of her voice when speaking to her daughter. After all, the kid was as shaken up by Drew’s murder as she was. “Why not, Olivia? You seemed fine with it yesterday. Aren’t you looking forward to a break from school?”
“I guess,” her daughter said, sitting up. “But I like school. And anyway, Raine is kind of a pain. Hey, that rhymed!” She giggled and rubbed sleep out of her eyes.
Callie hid her smirk from her daughter as best she could. Samantha would love that one: Raine the Pain. “What do you mean? I thought you liked her.” It couldn’t be true. Was she really going to have to convince her daughter to like her father’s new wife? Apparently, so. Ex-wife of the Year Award, here I come, thought Callie.
“Oh, she’s all right, I guess. But she’s always asking me how I AM and what do I want to DO. She doesn’t just let me sit and read a book, like you do. She doesn’t just let me BE.” Olivia scowled.
“I see. Well, at least she’s thinking about you and wants you to have a good time. It could be worse, you know.”
Olivia did not look convinced. “Anyway, Mom, what about you? Will you be safe? I don’t like you being all alone.” So that was it.
“I’ll be fine.” Callie smoothed her daughter’s tangled hair. “I’ve got Koukla, Pappou George and Grandma Viv to keep an eye on me.” And, Callie silently interjected, I’ve got Detective Sands on my trail like a bloodhound.
Callie smiled at her daughter’s sleepy face. “Look, when you get back, I promise we’ll have a great time together. You can have a friend for a sleepover. Rent movies. I’ll take you bowling. Whatever. But right now you’ve got to get ready to go. You’ll be late for school and I’ll be late for work.” Callie stood up. “I’m making coffee. Want a waffle?”
Olivia brightened at that. “Lots of syrup?”
“Sure.”
“OK. I’m up.” Livvie had lowered her feet to the floor, so Callie left the room. The house rule was that you had to have your feet on the floor to truly be “up.”
* * *
Callie tried to relax as she drove to work, taking time to appreciate the route. She smiled as she passed a hand-painted sign that read “The Sweet Corn Lady” and made a mental note to buy some ear corn
before it was no longer available for the rest of the season. She passed The Cove Skating Rink, with peeling paint and a weather-worn statue of a bearded pirate looked like he’d seen better days – and he had. The place had been around since George’s day and Callie had spent a fair amount of time there as a middle-schooler and teenager.
In those days, there just weren’t that many places in Crystal Bay to go, but Callie recalled that she had always enjoyed herself at The Cove. No doubt, when her time came, Olivia would go there too unless a new business popped up and knocked the old pirate out of his spot. In the current economic environment that didn’t seem likely.
Cool air blew through the window as Callie passed Lake Shore Drive and turned onto Main which led directly into the Garden Street business district. Rolling up her window, she looked at her car’s digital clock. Not too late. Hopefully, Max could serve the customers while Callie stocked lunches and dinners in the main freezer section at the front of the shop. Max had said he would do some baking this morning, too.
Callie parked behind her shop and noticed garbage piled high in the alley behind Minette’s – were they moving out for good? If she ran into Jeff, she’d ask him but she hoped not. He’d seemed so optimistic at the fitness center the other day.
Opening her door, a sugary smell of homemade cinnamon rolls wafted out, the scent making Callie’s mouth water. She’d been eating so little lately, surely one cinnamon roll couldn’t hurt? Or how about half a cinnamon roll with some fruit? That sounded much more virtuous, but not nearly as satisfying.
Callie nodded a “hello” to Max who stood at the front of the shop arranging muffins, banana bread and today, cinnamon rolls. Unfortunately, he was not joined by the usual slew of morning customers. Only two or three unfamiliar faces, tourists, probably, waited to be served. Well, maybe they had friends. Customers or not, her morning baked goods presented a tempting array.