by Jenny Kales
“Why, hello, Callie. I wasn’t expecting you today,” Melody said with a small smile. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
Not exactly a warm greeting, but Callie ignored it and pasted a cheery look on her face. “Oh, yes, of course. I’m just stopping here on the way.” Callie gently set down her boxes of food and gave Melody a warm smile. “I brought you and your staff some sweet treats. Let’s see, I’ve got gingerbread, Greek “snowball” cookies and a few other things.”
Melody made another attempt at a weak smile and nodded her thanks. Callie forged ahead, trying a more somber tone this time. “I’m just so sorry about what happened the other day. I thought some fresh baked goods might be welcome.”
“Yes, thank you. That’s very nice of you.” Melody looked a little pale.
“Are you all right?” Callie asked, concerned.
“No, I suppose I’m not. We’re all just in a state of shock. It’s all I can do to keep up with the demands of the guests. Fortunately, the hotel is still booked for the holidays. Still, the area behind the inn is a crime scene. I’ve got guests asking questions and I just don’t know what to say.”
“I can imagine,” Callie answered.
“Between you and me, I can’t even walk into the dining room without thinking about Natalie. You know, there’s a view of the spot where she was found. That room has always been one of the best features of the hotel and now it’s just gruesome. Yellow crime scene tape and all.” She frowned. “And there’s something else, but I really shouldn’t tell you.”
Callie prompted Melody. “What is it? Maybe I can help,” she said gently.
“No, you can’t, trust me. It’s nothing, probably.” Melody cleared her throat and smoothed her already smooth hair, perfectly coiffed in a sleek brown bun. “I’m sorry to burden you with my troubles. You must be suffering as well. After all, you found the…body.” Melody blinked.
“Yes, I sure did.” Callie didn’t feel the need to replay that day’s events.
“I’ll get going in a minute,” Callie said. “By the way, how is Kayla taking all of this? It must have been very difficult for her, losing a colleague, being questioned by the police….” Callie prompted. She thought back to the young woman’s remarks about Sands’ accent.
“She’s devastated – and afraid,” Melody admitted, looking away. “And of course, the Dayton family is livid. They’re probably going to sue. Lexy’s mother has been claiming that they and all of their guests were at risk and it’s all the fault of the inn. It’s a big mess.” She nodded at the stack of baked goods’ boxes on the counter and seemed to be collecting hold of herself. She attempted to smile at Callie. “It was nice of you to bring us some holiday treats. I’m sure the staff will appreciate it.”
“Any time,” Callie said. “I’m always happy to provide food. It’s a Greek thing.”
Melody suddenly looked more alert. “You know, there is something you can help me with, come to think of it.” She rummaged behind desk before placing a full-color brochure on the counter.
Callie peered at it closely. The festive brochure advertised The English Country Inn’s annual Christmas Tea. “Oh, I just love this event,” Callie gushed. “I was hoping to bring my daughter this year.”
“The holiday tea party is stressing me out,” Melody said glumly. “One of our usual food suppliers has messed up our bill and won’t provide some of the ingredients. I know it’s a mistake and I hope to get it cleared up. However, it may take a while to straighten things out with so much going on. And the holidays are such a busy time anyway.” She paused. “You’re such a good cook and baker. Do you think you could handle preparing some of the food? We’d pay you well, of course. Simple tea things like little cakes or maybe cookies. Do you think your schedule would allow it?”
Callie was taken aback.
“I think so,” Callie said slowly. This might be just the way to be able to dig a little bit deeper into the inn’s issues without appearing to be nosy.
“Thank you!” Melody seemed relieved. The phone started ringing. “I’d better get this,” Melody said. “See you later.”
“See you,” Callie answered. She walked out to the parking lot, a bit dazed at having taken on yet another food project when her spirits were already so low. Still, clients had to be fed. It was a good thing the holidays only came once a year. Too bad murder was starting to become a regular occurrence.
* * *
Max was straightening Christmas lights when Callie returned to her shop. Piper was near the front of the store, taking pictures of food in the shop. She flitted from attractively displayed baked goods to the refrigerated cases filled with festively-wrapped take-home meals. A couple of Callie’s Kitchen patrons photo bombed the pictures, but Piper only laughed.
Jack Myers was among the patrons, but he wasn’t trying to get into any pictures. Callie wished she could grill him about what was going on at the inn, but he didn’t look like he was planning to get a table. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a box of Greek doughnuts, aka loukoumades, in the other. He nodded at Callie and gave her a dazzling smile, all white teeth and dimples, before heading out the door.
“Social media stuff?” Callie asked Piper, as she rolled up her sleeves and headed behind the counter, smiling and nodding at customers. Callie rang up some orders and Piper joined her behind the counter when the crowd thinned out a bit.
“I took some pictures for Instagram. It’s a great way to show off your food,” Piper answered, putting her iPhone back into her pocket.
“Great idea,” Callie said. At least work seemed to be going smoothly. She was relieved to see a fair amount of customers bustling about the shop. While Callie watched, Max gave one final tug to the Christmas lights and then jumped down from his perch so that he could assist the customers beginning to assemble near the cash register. Who knew that Max would be so good at Christmas décor? He smiled at Callie and took a moment to admire his handiwork. Callie was happy to see Max behaving more like his old self. He must be feeling better. The lights sparkled and blinked, adding a warm and cozy glow to the shop’s interior.
“Thanks for doing the lights, Max. I’ll be in the kitchen,” Callie called as she went through the French doors leading to the food prep area. She checked the calendar on her computer to see if providing food for Melody conflicted with any other big orders or events. At the rate she was going, it just might.
One event she knew about already and it wasn’t making her feel any holiday cheer.
“Lexy Dayton holiday lunch,” she read. Callie hated to get dragged into any more Dayton drama right now, but she needed to keep her customers happy. Lexy was certainly celebrating frequently this season. Callie wondered if she and Nick had patched things up since their scene the day of the would-be bridal shower.
Callie sighed and turned away from the computer, deciding to seek out a bracing cup of coffee. She’d barely slept a wink and could almost taste a cup of her favorite dark roast, loaded with milk and a couple of sugars for extra energy.
However, a peaceful cup of hot, fragrant coffee was not to be. The newspaper folded next to the coffee maker nearly made her break the cup she’d just taken from a cabinet.
“Too Many Rooms at the Inn?” The Crystal Bay Courier’s headline read. “Murder Frightens Guests Away from Popular Hotel.” Had Melody been lying when she’d said that the inn wasn’t affected? Or was the Courier exaggerating – not an unusual practice?
Max walked briskly through the French doors. “Where do we keep the rest of the Christmas lights? Looks like one of the strands I just put up is burned out.”
Callie was absorbed in the article. “Uh…right. Lights. They should be in the storage closet. I’ve got a box marked “Christmas” above the extra cookie sheets.” She barely looked up from the newspaper.
“Yeah, I used those already. I guess I’ll have to get some more.” When Callie didn’t respond, he strode over to the coffee area. “What’s so interesting?”
Call
ie finished reading the short article that gave the bare outlines of yesterday’s murder at the inn and the supposed cancellations and held the paper up to Max. “Have you seen this?”
Max skimmed the headline and then looked back at Callie. “So? That’s to be expected, isn’t it? Look what happened to us after Drew’s murder last year. We nearly had to close.”
Callie sighed. “Don’t remind me. No, what I mean is, I was just at the inn and I spoke with Melody Cartwright. She implied that business was pretty normal, despite guests asking questions. In fact, she mentioned that she was really busy trying to keep up with everything.”
“Weird,” Max agreed. “Maybe she didn’t want to admit the truth about the crash in business, expecting that it could lead to more. But, in that case, who told the Courier that there were so many cancellations?”
“It wouldn’t take much to get that kind of information. All you would need was someone inexperienced in dealing with journalists to answer the phone. Something could slip out before you even intended.”
“Well, in that case, it could have been Melody herself. What experience does she have with journalists?” Max wanted to know.
“You’re right. She could have been trying to cover her mistake by lying to me. Come to think of it, I didn’t see a lot of cars in the parking lot….”
The bell over the front door rang. “I’ll get that. Food prep can wait for a minute.” Max turned to leave the kitchen.
“Wait. I’ll help with prep. What are you making?”
“Just some avgolemono. It’s not on the menu but I’ve had three customers ask me for it today. It seems to sell like hotcakes when it’s cold outside.”
“Got it. Maybe I’ll just keep it on the menu permanently – at least for the winter months.”
Max went to help the latest customer and Callie hunted in the walk-in refrigerator for the vat of homemade chicken broth she’d placed there recently.
Why would Melody lie? Callie shook her head, too preoccupied with soup and serving customers to figure it out at the moment. The woman was probably just confused, as anyone would be when confronted with a brutal murder at work.
Callie made her way back over to the coffee pot and poured a huge mugful. Melody wasn’t the only one confused – Callie hoped the caffeine would kick in soon and clear her foggy brain.
* * *
The rich smells of chicken, homemade broth and lemon filled the kitchen with a mouth-watering scent. Callie had made a large quantity of soup and was working on cutting out some Christmas sugar cookies, a soothing process, when the phone rang. She almost hated to break her peaceful state of mind by answering, but she wiped off her hands and picked the phone reluctantly.
“Hi, it’s me.” On the other end of the phone, Samantha sounded rushed, as usual. “I’ve just got a minute but I wanted to apologize again for what happened at dinner the other night. Bix was totally out of line and I know he’s sorry he reacted that way in front of you, me and of course, George. I guess he’s had some problems with The Elkhorn but really, that’s no excuse.”
“Just so long as you’re all right, Sam. That’s all I care about. Although…” Callie hesitated. She didn’t want to come across as if she were criticizing Bix.
“Callie, come on. What’s on your mind?”
“Well, are you sure Bix is someone you want to keep seeing? I know he’s charming and good-looking and all of that but he seems a little volatile.” There. She’d said it.
Silence.
“I’m not trying to criticize him,” Callie hedged, concerned she’d upset Sam. “But I’m just calling it like I see it.”
“Yes, I know.” Sam finally answered tersely. “Look, I didn’t call to dissect Bix’s character right now. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And I am. But right now, I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.” Sam’s phone beeped and the call ended.
Well, that escalated quickly, Callie thought. She sighed as she returned to her cookie dough. If only she could iron out her problems – and her friend’s problems – as easily as she rolled out her smooth, buttery dough.
Callie had another thought as she cut out whimsical Christmas cookie shapes and placed them gently on baking sheets. She was already checking up on the situation at The English Country Inn for Emma. Maybe Bix could bear an even closer examination. She wouldn’t tell Sam of course. But it wouldn’t hurt to find out more about this man who had her intelligent and logical friend so obviously smitten.
Six
Returning home that evening, Callie was determined to relax. Sands had called from the office but only to say hello and that he hoped to see her in person, soon. That makes two of us. Callie hadn’t realized how much she was starting to rely on Sands’ company and his absence these last few days had thrown her feelings into stark relief.
Olivia, her 10-year-old daughter was home from a visit with her father and his new wife, Raine. And her 6-year-old second “child,” Koukla, her Yorkie, was curled up on the couch next to her. As far as she knew, Sweetie was still at home dealing with “the jet lag,” Grandma Viv was no doubt involved in one of her many activities and George was who knew where?
Olivia sat on the other side of Callie, also curled up close. They were watching a movie and her daughter seemed to be enjoying it hugely. Callie tried to stay present, but considering the events of the last few days, her mind was wandering.
She was struggling to stay awake and Olivia was poking her, pointing out things in the movie that she was missing, when the doorbell bonged and startled her.
“Who could that be?” she asked over Koukla’s loud, excited barks. Secretly, she hoped it was Sands showing up for a cozy night in. A part of her was apprehensive – she didn’t usually receive surprise guests and with a killer at large, who knew who might be on her doorstep? Would a killer announce their presence by ringing a doorbell?
She peeked through the peephole and breathed a sigh of relief before throwing the door open. Bundled up against the weather and already covered with a fine coating of snowflakes, were Grandma Viv and Glykeria, aka “Sweetie.”
“Let us in before Sweetie freezes. She’s not used to the Wisconsin cold.” Viv had her arm wrapped around the diminutive Greek visitor.
“Eh, I fine,” Sweetie protested, but Callie noticed that she sped into the house as quickly as her short but shapely legs would carry her.
“Nice house. That beautiful girl your daughter? Tou, tou!” The Greek custom (well, really superstition) of warding off evil spirits by pretending to “spit” on beautiful children was something that Olivia was used to from George. Olivia was soon enveloped in Sweetie’s tight embrace.
Callie ushered Viv into her home over Sweetie’s exclamations about Olivia, Koukla, the house and the cold weather. Now fully awake, she was happy to see the two women and guiltily, she was glad for an interruption from the movie.
“Olivia, can you pause that for a minute?” she asked and Olivia glumly started to point the remote at the TV.
“No need for that,” Viv said smoothly, holding her coat out to Callie, who placed it next to Sweetie’s somewhat thinner coat on a chair near the door. “We just thought it would be nice to stop by and see how you’re doing. We heard about the murder at The English Country Inn.” Viv whispered this last part, glancing at Olivia.
“I figured you would have,” Callie said, nodding at her daughter to continue watching her movie. Olivia beamed and returned to the TV. But where was George? It was unlike him to miss out on family time, especially with his cousin in town.
“I bring cookies,” Sweetie said, holding up a container. “I no sleep at night. The jet lag. So I bake for you.”
“Thank you, Sweetie. That’s so nice of you!” Callie enthused. “Why don’t we go in the kitchen and I’ll make some coffee to go with the cookies. Decaf. So you can sleep.” Callie smiled at Sweetie. “Olivia can join us in a bit.”
The trio walked into Callie’s small kitchen, one of her favorite spots in the house with its whit
e cabinets, cheery pale-lemon walls and the matching pastel yellow Kitchen Aid sitting on the countertop. She gestured to the women to sit down at the table while she made a pot of decaf and got out plates for the cookies. Carefully, she opened the container that Sweetie had brought with her and a delightful smell wafted out. Mmmm. Koulourakia, the famous “Greek twist” cookies.
“These look delicious,” Callie enthused, setting down some coffee cups and joining the ladies while the coffee brewed.
“Is nothing,” Sweetie said with a shrug. “I like to do.”
“Where’s George?” Callie asked the two women who looked at each other, then down at the table.
“Well? What is it? Is he all right?” Callie asked again, growing alarmed.
Sweetie was the first to speak up. “He all right, dear. He out with woman, but he ask me first if it fine with me. I tell him, go, go. I visit Calliope. Viv nice enough to call and ask me here.”
“What woman?” Callie asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“Her name is Kathy,” Viv answered, with a wry smile at Callie. “And she’s…”
“She’s Raine’s aunt. Yes. I believe I just met the lady yesterday, while she was with Dad. They’re out together again?” Callie found that hard to believe. After all these years, George Costas was giving somebody the rush? And of all somebodies – a woman related to Raine!
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Viv remarked with the wisdom of her 80 years. “They may just be friends.”
Callie was ashamed of her petty feelings. “It’s not that I don’t want Dad to date,” she hedged. “It’s just that … someone related to Raine? It feels…I don’t know.” She couldn’t finish. Surely she wouldn’t resent George if he found someone she truly liked. However, she was uncomfortable with the rush of conflicting emotions flowing through her. Besides being annoyed by the Raine connection, she had to admit it did bring up feelings about her mother’s death, something she thought she had gotten over long before now.