by Jenny Kales
Finally, Callie found that her voice had returned. “I’m fine. Really. Thanks for your kind words of…sympathy. It’s just difficult to talk about Drew right now.” And to hear your husband’s new wife talk about their plans for procreation!
“I had something else I wanted to tell you.” Callie wanted to plug her ears, but Raine plowed on, relentlessly. “I don’t know if Hugh shared this with you, but we were both interviewed by the police about the murder.” She spoke the last word in a loud stage whisper that was probably heard on the sidewalks outside.
“You were?” Now that was interesting. If she was a suspect, her ex-husband would be one, too. After all, as far as anyone else knew, Callie and Drew were having the hottest love affair since, well, since Hugh and Raine. Hugh could have been a jealous husband. A jealous, murdering husband. That is, if he cared anymore, which he obviously didn’t. According to Raine, Hugh was well on his way to making new Green Bay fans and his former wife was not on his mind.
“Yes. But we were at an ABBA cover band concert with some friends and lots of people saw us, so we were off the hook right away.” An ABBA cover band concert? Oh boy. Callie stifled a laugh at the image of Hugh, a notoriously bad dancer, shaking it to “Dancing Queen.”
Raine leaned in closer and Callie noticed a streak of mascara under one of Raine’s teary eyes. They sparkled at her next question. “What about you? Have you been cleared of suspicion?”
“Um, well. I’m not really authorized to talk about the investigation.” No one had come out and told her that, but it sounded good. Sands would be pleased. Sands kept turning up like a bad penny but she’d rather see him right now than converse with Raine another second.
“Thanks so much for chatting and for taking Olivia for a few days, but I really should get back to work.” Callie tried to assume an air of extreme busyness by bustling about the front of the shop,
“It’s our pleasure!” Raine said. Callie decided not to mention the mascara smear. “You hang in there, now. You’re a tough cookie!” Raine glanced down at the artfully arranged cookie display case and giggled again. “A tough cookie! That’s fitting!” She laughed to herself as she walked to the door, then turned back to Callie and waggled her fingers at her. “Goodbye! We’ll have Olivia call you!”
Callie forced the corners of her mouth into a smile, nodded and waved back. As soon as Raine had disappeared out the door, she sank against the display case, drained. Well, you had to say one thing for Raine: she was more upbeat than a brass marching band. But all that talk about reproduction with Hugh? That had to stop.
To soothe her frayed nerves after the unexpected encounter, Callie finished some more kitchen tasks. Max came up to her in the kitchen, all smiles. “Piper is going to meet us here in about 15 minutes. He looked around and lowered his voice. “She said she would be happy to be your social media consultant.”
“That’s great!” Callie said. Then she remembered that she’d left her new cell phone in the car. Even though her daughter had just left, she wanted her phone on hand in case Olivia needed her. As an afterthought, she grabbed her purse. Maybe she’d stop by Minette’s Chocolates and see if they had any of those truffles Lucille liked so much. Her friends would probably appreciate the business, even at this, their eleventh hour. She could drop off the indulgent candies later, after she delivered avgolemono to the bank worker, as promised.
“I’m going out for a minute,” she called to Max. “Be right back.”
A rush of air in the alley startled Callie about the same time that she heard footsteps running towards her. Before she could turn around, a sharp crack on her head turned everything black.
Seventeen
Callie felt very cold. Why was her mattress so uncomfortable? She knew it was probably time for new one, but she didn’t understand how her bed could turn into a slab of concrete overnight. She tried to roll over and find a more comfortable position, but wait. It was time to go to work. No, she was too tired.
A muffled voice said “It looks like she’s coming around.” Callie wanted to open her eyes, but her head hurt so much she couldn’t do it at first. Finally, she forced her eyelids open a crack and the light made her whimper in pain.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” a female voice kept saying. She tried to place the voice. Was it Livvie? The thought of her daughter needing help made her grit her teeth and force her eyes all the way open.
Two faces stared down at her. At least Callie thought it was two faces – or maybe she was seeing double because the light was so bright and her eyes didn’t want to open all the way. As she concentrated on focusing her eyes, Callie realized that Max and Piper were peering down at her.
She was not in her own bed but instead, she was sprawled on the pavement in the alley behind her shop. Callie slowly turned her head to the left and then to the right and found herself staring underneath the dumpster for her business. Max had told her he’d seen a rat back there the other day but thankfully, Callie had not seen any of the rodents herself. The thought of them made her shudder.
As she struggled to sit up, Max and Piper each took a shoulder and tried to make her lay back down. “Not so fast, huh Callie?” Max’s worried voice pierced her painful brain fog. Piper had removed her cardigan sweater and had bunched it up as a pillow. The sweater was as soft as a cloud under Callie’s aching head and for a moment, she relaxed until she remembered that she was lying in an alley. “Let me up,” she croaked.
Max looked at Piper and shrugged. “Let’s get her up, I guess. On the count of three we lift her, okay?” Piper nodded. “One, two, THREE!” Callie was grasped tightly, one person hoisting her under each armpit into a sitting and then a standing position. She felt herself swaying forward in their grip and tears of humiliation and pain came to her eyes. “Let’s get her inside,” Max said. “Callie, we’ll keep hold of you. Can you walk?”
“I think so.” They trio made their way slowly and carefully into the kitchen and Callie was helped to a chair. “You guys can let go. I can sit on my own.” Max and Piper backed away from her, but stood nearby.
“What happened? You say goodbye to me and then next thing I know, I’m taking out the trash and I nearly trip over you lying next to the dumpster. Did you hit your head?” Max appeared extremely worried and in her fuzzy state, he came across as a bit impatient, too.
Callie struggled to remember the exact chain of events. “I don’t think I fell and hit my head. I think someone hit me and then I fell. That’s it. Someone hit me on the head. They must have knocked me out for a minute.”
“Oh geez, Callie, you’re going to need to see a doctor. Now. You could have a concussion. Any nausea? Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” Max held three thick fingers in front of Callie’s face.
Piper, on the other hand, was as cool as the Greek cucumber-yogurt sauce Callie’s clients clamored for in the summer months. She smacked his hand away. “Max, you’re not helping.” She gave Callie a worried look. “I think we should call an ambulance, that is, unless you want Max and me to drive you over to the hospital ourselves.”
Callie squinted at Piper, her head aching in the bright lights of her kitchen prep area. No, she didn’t want Max and Piper to take her anywhere. Maybe she was grumpy and out of it from being hit on the head, but why did she have the feeling that Piper was always seeing her at her worst?
“I think I’ll have my father drive me. I’m up and I’m talking, I’m not nauseated.” As a seasoned mother, Callie knew the warning signs of concussion. “I think I need to see George right now.” Her throat constricted and she felt like crying. She knew he’d chew her out for finding herself in the middle of a dangerous situation – again – but his strength would be comforting right now. Callie was frightened to the bone.
“If one of you will just give him a call,” she continued, swallowing the lump in her throat. “My dad’s number is… Uh. It’s….”Callie couldn’t remember. Her head was still too foggy. She looked at Piper who was still gazing at
her with a concerned expression. “Will you get me my purse? I had it with me when I got hit. It might still be in the alley.”
Piper nodded and dashed towards the back door of the kitchen.
“Max, why do bad things keep happening?” Max looked at his sturdy black shoes and didn’t reply. Callie rubbed her face. “I’m just glad that Olivia wasn’t here. She could have gotten hurt, too.”
“Everything’s been screwed up since Drew got himself killed,” Max muttered.
“Got himself killed?” Callie was aghast. “Are you blaming him for being murdered?”
Max didn’t want to seem to meet Callie’s eyes. He was about to speak again when Piper rushed in from the alley.
“Your purse – it’s gone!”
“Oh no,” groaned Callie. There went her driver’s license, credit cards, health insurance cards, card for the money-dispensing “Tyme Machine” aka ATM – pretty much everything.
As reality dawned, Callie felt a cold chill begin at the top of her head and ran slowly down her spine. She’d been attacked, just like Lucille. She was lucky to be alive! Callie started to stand up and felt her knees buckle. Quickly, she returned to her stool.
“What was in it?” Max and Piper asked in unison.
Callie looked from one to the other. “All of my cash, credit cards, driver’s license, health insurance. You know. Nothing big.” Pain and fear turned Callie’s voice bitter and she instantly regretted her tone when she saw Max’s eyes narrow. “But I’m lucky I’m not hurt worse than this.” Pain shot through her forehead. Maybe she’d spoken too soon.
Max faced Piper, his hair even spikier in profile. “Let’s go look outside. Maybe the thief dropped Callie’s purse in a dumpster or something, or left some evidence behind. You never know.”
“Good idea,” Piper said. They started for the door and then Piper looked back. “I don’t know if we should leave you alone.”
“I’ll look on my own,” Max said. “You stay with Callie. I’ll call her dad when I’m done looking for her purse.”
Max left and Piper peered closely at Callie. “Do you want some water?”
“Sure.” Callie’s headache was extremely painful but at least she wasn’t seeing double anymore. She accepted a glass and took a cautious sip. Well, what to talk about? Why was Piper here? Oh yes, computers and social media.
“Max says you’re quite the computer expert.”
The young woman looked pleased. “I love computers. As a kid, I got kind of good at cracking codes and that hooked me.”
Callie looked at her. “Cracking codes?”
“Oh my goodness, nothing serious! I never went after government files or anything. No, I just loved to figure out passwords, codes, etc. It was kind of a game to me. But I stopped – I won’t do that here! Now I’m really interested in the Internet and social media. Anyway, cracking people’s passwords is just too easy.”
Really? “I’m just curious. How do you go about hacking into somebody’s personal computer or iPad?”
“If you know what you’re doing, it’s not that difficult. I mean, some people even have passwords that are ridiculously easy to figure out. Like, did you know that the word “Password” is one of the most commonly used?”
“I guess people are afraid they’ll forget their password so they use something they are sure to remember.” Callie began to shake her head and thought the better of it as a sharp pain raced across her cranium. Touching it as gently as she could, she was alarmed to feel a tender bump growing.
Piper charged on, warming to her subject. “Right. So a lot of times, people go for the obvious: their street name, pet’s name, kid’s name, their middle name, something like that. Or they go for really simply numerical codes: Literally 1, 2, 3. 4. If you know something about the person, it’s usually easier to decipher the code. A lot of people choose something that’s important to them, but something they think others won’t figure out.” Piper’s eyes flashed with excitement. She looked like a fresh, blooming flower and Callie knew she looked like a wilted weed. Still, Piper hadn’t just endured a concrete nap in an alley after a blow to the head. Fair was fair.
“You enjoy cracking codes,” Callie prompted, taking another sip of water. It tasted metallic, so she set it down on the counter.
“I do. Basically, I really like puzzles. And don’t worry. Like I said, I don’t use this skill at work.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Callie replied, closing her eyes. She opened them when Max returned to the kitchen, out of breath and with dirty stains on the front of his shirt. The aroma of garbage clung to him, and Callie felt her stomach turn over.
“Sorry I was gone so long, but I looked in every dumpster and trash can near the shop. Nothing. I guess whoever took your purse wanted money and credit cards.” He walked over to the wall phone. “Your dad’s number is right here, Callie. I’ll call him now.”
She nodded gratefully at Max and continued to ponder the attack. How many times had she entered that alley – even late at night – and been as safe as Koukla in her doggie bed? Hundreds of times. It seemed like too much of a coincidence.
Callie was starting to get sleepy, not a good thing with a head injury. She had to stay awake. Maybe if she stood up and took a walk, she would feel better. As she rose from the stool, Piper jumped up and grabbed her arm. “I’m getting tired, I think I need to walk,” Callie said. Suddenly, she really, really wanted to be rid of Max and Piper. Hurry up, Dad, she thought to herself.
“I’ll take your arm.” Piper grabbed Callie’s left bicep and Callie let her, but decided she was going to give the orders from now on. “Let’s go back to the alley. I want to see if anything looks amiss.”
“Are you sure you should?” Piper asked, but Callie was already pulling her in that direction so the younger woman let her take the lead.
Stepping out into the alley, Callie peered left and right. Everything looked normal and she could faintly hear the usual buzz of the after-work crowd that descended on the local shops before heading home for a quiet evening. Well, some of them were heading home for a quiet evening. At least one of them was a killer still on the loose and the other was a purse thief.
The only difference that Callie could see was that the trash from Minette’s Chocolates was no longer there. Someone must have tidied up – so maybe somebody had seen her attacker.
Callie turned to go back to her shop when suddenly she heard her name being called. Carefully, she turned in the direction of the voice.
“Are you hurt?” It was Mrs. DeWitt and Minette. Callie nodded but that gesture made the cobblestones of the alley seem to spin. She groaned and held her hand to her head.
“Get this girl back inside right now,” commanded Mrs. DeWitt. She and Minette followed Callie and Piper into the kitchen and re-seated Callie.
Once Callie was settled again, Mrs. DeWitt spoke. “We were walking in the back door of Minette’s and we saw commotion in the alley.” When Callie filled her in on what had happened, Mrs. DeWitt narrowed her eyes at Max. “Why didn’t you call 911?” she demanded.
Max and Piper looked sheepishly at each other. “Callie didn’t want that. She wanted her dad to take her to the hospital. I just got off the phone with George Costas and he’s on his way.” Max sounded a bit defiant and Callie recalled that he had never seemed to like Mrs. DeWitt all that much. Apparently, she had told him that his piercings didn’t look “appetizing” for someone in food service.
“Are you two crazy? Callie can’t wait.”
Piper was flushed, obviously embarrassed by being criticized by the formidable older woman. “Max and I were helping her.”
“Well!” Mrs. DeWitt exclaimed. She motioned to Minette who had been standing helplessly by her side. “Minette, you and I will take Callie to the hospital. Max,” Mrs. DeWitt said his name as if the syllable were a dead mouse she was holding by the tail. “You call George Costas and tell him to meet us there.”
Before she could protest or spe
ak, Callie found herself being led to the back seat of Mrs. DeWitt’s navy blue Mercedes, with Minette next to her, holding her hand.
“Callie, I’m so sorry!” Minette was tearful. “You could have been killed. Like Drew!” At this last, Minette was unable to control herself and burst into full-blown sobs.
“Minette, dear, you’re supposed to be comforting her, not upsetting her. Get a hold of yourself!” Mrs. DeWitt’s words were harsh but her tone was soft. “There, there. We’ll get Callie taken care of and she’ll be fine!”
“But my purse,” Callie mumbled, feeling groggy but not quite as badly as before. “I don’t have my health insurance card. Everything was stolen.”
“Not to worry,” Mrs. DeWitt sounded nearly cheerful. “I donated a lot of money to the hospital last year. They’ll be only too glad to admit you once I’m done speaking with them.”
The ride to the hospital passed in a blur. As Callie was whisked from the emergency waiting room and into the hospital’s inner sanctum almost immediately, she realized that it was far better for Mrs. DeWitt to have accompanied her to the hospital rather than George. The registration nurse had apparently taken Mrs. DeWitt’s suggestion about checking with the company for proof of insurance and Callie was certain things wouldn’t have gone as smoothly without her.
“Callie! Hrisi mou! What now? I get a call that you’re hurt and now I think – no! She’s getting into trouble again. How could you?” George Costas burst through the doors of the hospital room like the hounds of hell were after him. That was all he had said though. George wanted to interrogate Callie, she knew. It must be killing him to stick to just that one short rebuke. However, out of deference to Mrs. DeWitt or the hospital setting, he was keeping calm, at least for the time being.
“How can I thank you two enough?” Callie asked Mrs. DeWitt and Minette as they sat with her. They’d insisted on staying, Mrs. DeWitt perhaps sensing that her presence was preventing George from erupting into a million questions and admonitions.