by Jenny Kales
“Now, now. I can’t reveal all of my sources. Let’s just say I have spies everywhere. On another note, I thought you might like to know that they found the lockbox, sans cash, in one of the trash cans at the park last night. I heard about it this morning.”
“Seriously?”
“Sure am. I’m really sorry about that.”
“Not as sorry as I am. I needed that money, and I certainly don’t need any more bad publicity. And I am absolutely dreading telling Mrs. DeWitt about it. Despite everything, I really appreciated the chance to provide food for the Chamber events. I guess that’s over now.”
“Not necessarily. Besides, we’ve got bigger problems. I happen to have a report in front of me that confirms that Tammy Heckstrom was given a strong dose of muscle relaxant the other night. That’s why she passed out.”
“Muscle relaxant? That’s weird.”
“Some of them are pretty strong. It’s definitely not a drug you’d want to take before an acting gig.”
“Definitely not. I wonder who did that to her and why?”
“Well, you didn’t hear any of this from me. I just wanted you to know that people are getting nasty. Be careful.”
Feeling her face burn with the memory, Callie thought of her escapade at the crime scene the other evening. Sam hadn’t brought it up, so Callie hoped she didn’t know about that “crisis” at least.
“I will. I don’t have time to do anything but cook for the next couple of days. Remember? Greek Fest is upon us!”
“I know, I know. And I also heard that Max has left Callie’s Kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to help?”
“Yes, he was.” Callie sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t had much time to catch up with you lately. How did you hear about Max? Or should I even ask?”
“No mystery there. Your Grandma Viv bumped into me at the dry cleaner’s. I got the whole story, very colorfully presented, let me tell you. I’m very sorry to hear that his dad is having health problems, but Max isn’t going to be easy to replace. What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got a temporary replacement right now,” Callie whispered. “I can’t really talk about it.” She heard a yelp from the kitchen and realized she needed to wrap up the phone call. “I’ve got to go.”
“So do I. But not before I tell you this. You’ve got a new assistant for Greek Fest. Me.”
Eighteen
Friday, the day of Greek Fest dawned sunny and warm. Callie peeked out the window and was thankful to see a clear, blue sky dotted with just a few puffy white clouds. Nothing was worse than huddling under a tent with soggy souvlaki.
She’d been up until 2 a.m. baking additional savory Greek pies for the festival. Better too many than not enough, was George’s motto, and in this case, she had to agree. The Greeks among the festival attendees would be horrified if they didn’t get a piece, or two, of pita.
Thoughts of the busy day in front of her almost helped to drive the story of Tammy Heckstrom and her muscle relaxant dosing out of Callie’s mind.
Almost. Because now it looked like any one of a number of people who could have spiked Tammy’s tea: Raine. Hugh. Lisa Linley. Allan Browne. Any of the actors, really.
Even Josh, heaven help her.
It was too much to process right now. She needed all of her positive energy today and then some. Callie smiled as she thought of Sam and her generous offer to help out at Greek Fest. Her busy friend had promised to leave work early and help Callie get through the evening crowd. Sam was no cook, so Callie planned to put her in charge of something simple, like selling cups of rice pudding or plates of spanakopita while Callie handled the frying of the loukoumades, the one “fresh” item that needed to be prepared.
Sometimes Callie ran the “frappe” station, providing traditionally Greek frosty coffee drinks to overheated Greek Fest attendees, but this year, a couple of women from the church had taken over that duty. Callie was glad to surrender the task.
On a brighter note, Sands had promised to try and meet her at the Greek Fest that evening.
After checking in with Piper to make sure that Callie’s Kitchen was up and running, Callie figured out her game plan for the day. First, she had to visit Callie’s Kitchen and get her pites and other goodies. Then, she had to dash over to the event location to claim her refrigerator space, a highly valued commodity. Jockeying for refrigerator storage was typical, so Callie made a note to bring some of her own ice-filled coolers as well.
Fueled by coffee and adrenaline, Callie drove to her shop just long enough to load up her foodstuffs. Piper was not her chipper self, missing Max, no doubt, but she was doing a competent job of serving the customers for the morning rush. As if in mourning, she was dressed more conservatively than usual, in a navy blue blouse with a Peter Pan collar and black capri pants, instead of one of her brightly colored, cinched-waist dresses.
Josh and Piper had baked the frozen pites the day before, and now, the delicacies were spread out in golden brown rows. Callie hoped the sight of that buttery goodness would tempt festival attendees to eat up and spend. Combined with the fresh-baked pites that she had slaved over the previous evening, the food situation seemed to be under control. Callie recalled Max’s frenzied efforts at baking and cooking over the last several days. I couldn’t have done it without him, she thought.
Packing up the food and ensuring that it was securely fastened in the coolers took longer than Callie had thought it would, and it was nearly 11 a.m. before she was pulling into the parking lot of the public park rented out by the church. Because of the small size of the Greek Orthodox community in town, the church hall and grounds weren’t large enough to hold the hordes of Crystal Bay locals and tourists who turned out for authentic Greek food and music. Luckily, the park was a green and open space, with a view of the water and fortunately, ample restroom access.
Across the bay, the elegant silhouettes of the beautiful Gilded Age homes were just visible in the distance. Narrowing her eyes at them, Callie was gripped by a feeling of something important eluding her. It was the same feeling she’d had ever since she and Max had pulled their spy mission the other evening. She made another mental note to research the article Viv had mentioned as soon as possible.
White tents were set up on either side of the park, creating a walking path that led directly to a small dais at the far end of the park, right near a thick copse of trees. Several picnic tables and smaller tables covered in white paper tablecloths surrounded the stage. This would be the space for the Greek band to perform. Callie smiled as she thought of George kicking up his heels in a traditional Greek folk dance, something he dearly loved to do once he’d served his time grilling souvlakia, aka kebabs, at his food tent.
“Calliope! Over here!” The hearty, Greek-accented voice of her father called to her. Smiling, Callie lugged her rolling trays of food a few tents down the “lane” towards her father. He waved at her impatiently.
When she was just a few feet away, George couldn’t wait anymore. He barreled over to her and embraced her in one of his signature bear hugs. “Hrisi mou. Calliope! I thought you’d never get here. But now you’re here, so let’s get to work!”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I’ve been working on the food for the festival for days. It’s going to be good. And look! The sun is out! It’s going to be a great success.”
“Are you joking? I’m not going to stop worrying until the last souvlaki has been grilled. Then and only then will I sit back with ouzo and maybe a lamb chop with some tzatziki. But that’s hours away. No use thinking about it now.”
Callie smiled warmly at her father as he bustled about, helping her to unload her food. Despite his self-deprecating tone, she knew this was one of the most joyful and much-anticipated days of his year. Dimly, she remembered Greek Fest as being an anchor to George when he’d lost her mother so many years ago. Perhaps it was a symbol of how he’d remade his life since then. Greek food and camaraderie had a way of being life-affirming.
Exclaiming excitedly over each item as he
removed it, he nonetheless couldn’t help himself from a visual critique of each item. Fortunately, most of it seemed to meet with his favor, even the food baked by Josh.
“So, I hear young Max has left Callie’s Kitchen,” he said, putting his nose to a covered dish of spanakopita and pronouncing it just a little under baked.
“Yes, he has. How did you hear about that? Viv?”
“No, a regular at the Olympia mentioned something.” The Olympia was her father’s diner, and he’d harbored dreams of her taking it over one day, a dream that had been dashed when she’d opened Callie’s Kitchen.
“A friend of Max’s father told me all about it,” George was saying, shaking his head. “So sorry to hear about his father’s tragic accident, but what will you do without Max? It’s summer season, hrisi mou. So many tourists!”
“I know, I know. The thing is I’ve got this new guy, Josh, helping me out. And Piper’s still there, so we’ll manage. Samantha is going to help me out today. Max was supposed to be here, but obviously he has to be where his family is.”
“Of course. Family is the most important thing of all.” George puffed out his chest and Callie was ready for a pontification to begin, but he only held out one meaty forefinger and pointed it at Callie before pointing it at himself. “You and me. We’re family, and we will stick together. I’m happy to help at Callie’s Kitchen while you find a permanent replacement.”
He stowed a couple more pites before adding “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me already. Especially with this latest murder in Crystal Bay. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help, you know. It won’t kill you.”
Uh-oh. George was warming up for a lengthy discussion, Callie could feel it.
“I admit: I may very well need your help and I thank you for the offer. Right now I’ve got Josh and I will see how he works out at the shop. He’s young and not an experienced cook, but he seems to enjoy food, so that’s half the battle.” She decided not to mention Josh’s tie to the murder mystery night troupe and Tammy’s unfortunate muscle relaxant dosing while performing.
“The things I could teach him in the kitchen!” George had a light in his eyes, and Callie remembered him as her cooking instructor, showing her how to brush just the right amount of butter on the phyllo dough, or that a squeeze of lemon improved the flavor of any grilled meat dish.
Callie was saved from having to respond by the arrival of more Greek Fest volunteers, George’s buddies from church and The Olympia. Their biggest concern was that one of the deluxe grills they’d brought to the festival didn’t seem to be working. With apologies to his daughter, George rushed off to attend to the problem. Several minutes later, cries of “Opa!” told Callie that the grill was fixed, and that somebody may have dipped into the ouzo earlier than they’d said they would.
The next 15 minutes were a blur of talking to her fellow festival workers and setting up food. After she had unloaded everything, Callie took a quick trip around the festival, peeking in on each tent and saying hello to her fellow festival hosts. She was charmed to see so many crafts, including some by young girls not that much older than her daughter Olivia. One father and daughter were offering their own handmade jewelry and lush-looking olive oil soap. Callie made a mental note to stop by later. Perhaps next year Olivia could join her mother in the tent. She would be just as old as Callie was when she started helping her father, George, with the annual Greek Fest.
The first attendees were due at 1 p.m., and Callie could already see that the parking lot was filling up with everything from trucks to sleek sports cars. Fleetingly she thought of Piper and wondered how the shop was doing without Max, but she shook off that thought.
Callie had just decided it was time to put the first of the rice pudding into disposable cups when her cell phone rang.
“Callie, it’s me.” Sands’ voice was warm, but wary.
“Oh, hi! Don’t tell me you’re not coming to the Greek Fest today. I can use every bit of moral support. Plus, you haven’t lived until you’ve watched my dad do his Zorba routine on the dance floor.”
“You sound a little stressed, my dear. Of course I’ll be there. I wanted to tell you that we found your lockbox but without any cash. I would have called sooner, but I was tracking down some information about something else.”
“Sam told me. I don’t know how she found out. I appreciate the news. I just wish we had the cash.”
“Sam told you? Hmm. I wish we’d found the money as well, but we usually don’t in cases like this. I just thought you would like to know.”
“Thanks for the call. Let’s chat some more tonight. I’ve got hungry people approaching me right now.”
Sands laughed. “I bet you do. See you later.”
Callie sprinkled cinnamon on her rice pudding cups and was startled when a young man suddenly joined her behind the table.
“Josh!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”
Nineteen
“I wanted to redeem myself,” Josh said.
“There’s really no need…” Callie started to say. Today of all days, she didn’t have time to deal with training anyone on her team. Plus, she realized she didn’t know if her food was safe around Josh, and not only because he’d confused salt with sugar.
“No, I insist,” Josh said. He found an extra “Callie’s Kitchen” blue and white apron lying across one of the large folding tables and tied it on.
“Well, that’s awfully nice of you,” Callie said, trying to hide the uncertainty in her voice. “I can’t really pay you today, you know. This is volunteer work that I, we, do for the Greek Fest. The proceeds go to the church, mostly. I only get a small cut of the profits.”
“Yes, that’s what Piper said. It’s OK. I just want to show you what I can do.”
That’s what I’m afraid of, Callie thought.
“Wait a minute here, what do you mean, Piper said? Did she tell you to come here and help me out? I swear I never mentioned a thing to her.” Callie fumed a bit, wondering why Piper was so anxious to foist Josh upon her today of all days. Was Piper trying to remove Josh from Callie’s Kitchen so that she could have some peace and quiet herself? Or was Josh truly just an eager-to-please, would-be chef?
Josh blushed, and Callie felt bad for scolding him. “Yeah, she did mention something. Don’t be mad at her. Seriously.” Josh gazed at Callie with wide eyes. “I want to help.”
“Thank you for showing up,” she said, collecting herself and feeling badly that she was behaving in such a bad-tempered way. “I do need someone to help. But I have to warn you this isn’t glamorous work. I’ll need you to be versatile. That means maybe even basic stuff like getting ice for coolers or moving tables. It’s not all food related. Are you up for that?”
Playfully, Josh flexed a bicep. “What do you think? Just tell me what you need done.”
Callie stood with her hands on her hips. “First things first. I need all these rice puddings from this cooler to be placed in one of those portable refrigerators in the refrigeration tent. Make sure the food is labeled Callie’s Kitchen.” She handed him an indelible marker. “It’s getting hot and the puddings are perishable. Use sharp elbows to get in there if you have to. Fridge space is limited and highly prized!”
“No problem.” Smiling, Josh took her tray of puddings and walked off jauntily in the direction of the refrigerator tent.
Callie turned back to her work, making sure she had enough plastic spoons, paper plates and paper napkins with her blue-and-white Callie’s Kitchen logo on them. She carefully placed all of her baked goods out on the tables and put out signs stating how many tickets each item cost. Thankfully, the Greek Fest used tickets instead of cash transactions at each tent. Callie made a mental note to suggest this system to Mrs. DeWitt for the next Beats on the Bay event.
The gates would open soon and the literal feeding frenzy would begin. Callie looked around. Where was Josh? Had somebody bested him in the refrigerator space wars, and he was afraid to report back to her? He�
��d better not; she couldn’t have her desserts spoiling in the hot sunshine.
Callie peeked outside of her tent and saw that several attendees were already checking in and getting their tickets. Her heart soared for her father. If these early birds were any indication, the Greek Fest should be a success!
After scanning the growing crowd for several more minutes, she finally spotted Josh. He wasn’t carrying any rice puddings, thank goodness, but he was speaking to a portly gentleman with wild red hair. Allan Browne.
“Good news, Callie,” Josh said proudly. “I got all the refrigerator space I needed. The women in the tent called me something that sounded like “pethas.” What does that mean?”
“Pethas? Oh, you mean “petharos.” Callie couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess you’re home free, then, Josh. ‘Petharos’ is a Greek term that means ‘handsome, strapping young man.’ ”
“Really?” Josh gulped and smiled sheepishly at the two of them.
“You lucky boy. Or should I say ‘Adonis?’ Another of the strapping, Greek young men.” Allan Browne smiled benignly at the two of them before continuing. “Before I offer up my tickets that will allow me to sample some of your delicious-looking food, I want to apologize for the other day. I was supremely upset. I’m sure you can understand.”
Callie tried not to show her surprise at this apology from the blustery Allan Browne. “It was an upsetting evening. I saw Tammy, though, and she’s made a full recovery.”
“Yes, I know. I’m so relieved. Losing Holly was just…” Allan’s face crumpled, but he regained his composure so quickly that Callie wondered if she had imagined it.
“In any case, what a wonderful day this is for such an event!” Allan slapped Josh on the back. “You know that the ancient Greek actor, ‘Thespis,’ is considered to be the creator of the theater, in particular, Greek tragedy. That’s where the term ‘Thespian’ comes from. Though of course, you know all about that, Josh.” Apparently, Allan Browne relied on pomposity to see him through the difficulties of life. Well, Callie thought, whatever helps.