by Jenny Kales
“Let’s go!” Callie hissed.
As quietly as they could, they raced behind the hedge and jumped the short wooden fence that bordered the neighboring property. Without looking around or stopping, they looped around to the front of the neighbor’s house and made their way back to the sidewalk. Nodding at each other, they ran in the direction of Callie’s car.
Callie didn’t look back or even speak until she’d reached her car and unlocked it. Max, huffing and puffing was right behind her. He jumped in the passenger seat as Callie started up the motor and pulled away from the curb like a bat out of hell.
“That was a really stupid thing to do,” Max said, breathless from his sprint.
Callie was trembling so hard she could barely handle the steering wheel, but she didn’t want to stop, just in case they were followed. “You know, Max, I think you might be right.”
“Who was that?” Max was looking a little green around the gills.
“I don’t know. The police?” The police surely wouldn’t have any qualms about returning to a crime scene, but would they be wearing a hooded sweatshirt under the cover of darkness? Or it could be the killer. We have to call this in!”
“Callie. We can’t admit we were there. We’ll be in huge trouble. Are you crazy?”
“I know, but what if it was the killer? I’m going to call and just say I was in the neighborhood and thought I saw an intruder. I’ll call Sands.” Quickly, she swerved over to the side of the road. Nobody appeared to be following them.
“Great.” Max let out a disgusted sigh.
Callie tapped Sands’s number into her phone and fortunately, he answered.
“This is going to sound odd, but just bear with me. I was driving by the house where Holly was killed, and there’s somebody out there. In the yard. I thought you’d want to know.” She grimaced at Max and he shrugged.
“Driving by?” He sounded skeptical. “When was this?”
“Just a few minutes ago.”
“Do you have a physical description of this person?”
“Yes. They were medium height and wearing dark clothing. And a hooded sweatshirt. I couldn’t see them very well.”
“How did you see as much as you did,” Sands demanded, “if you were only driving by?”
“I walked around the perimeter of the yard and I spotted it then.” It was mostly the truth.
Sands let out a shout. “You did, did you? We’ll talk about this later, and I’ll need to take a statement about everything you saw. For now, I’ll get a patrol car to go over there. Where are you?”
“Driving back towards downtown Crystal Bay.”
“I see. Well, I’ll want to talk to you later. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Stay away from there. I mean it. Unless you want to get an obstruction of justice charge and get me fired.” He hung up.
Max just stared at her. “Why did I agree to this again?”
Callie felt sick. She put down her phone and resumed driving. “I don’t want to go to either of our homes, just in case,” she said. “What if somebody is on our tail?”
Max turned around and strained to see outside of the car’s rear window. “I don’t see anybody, but that’s not a bad idea. Let’s just head to The Pub.”
The Pub, with its prosaic name and comforting atmosphere, sounded good to Callie.
Max kept a lookout for anyone following them, but they seemed to be alone on the road. Callie felt a lot better when they approached Garden Street and Main, Crystal Bay’s business district. Many people were still out and about, but they were able to find a prime spot in the parking lot of The Pub.
Max dashed to the men’s room while Callie sank down into a booth, letting her breath out with a whoosh. She felt hot, sweaty and dusty, but at least they had escaped detection from the intruder. The adrenaline rush that had sent her running from the intruder was fading, and she realized she needed sugar and maybe some caffeine.
The waitress came to take their order, and Callie ordered fries and Cokes for Max and herself. Not the healthiest options, but the food and drink would sustain them for a while longer. Callie felt her stomach rumble and realized that she had never had a chance to eat dinner. Tammy’s sudden illness had halted the deluxe dinner that was being offered along with the murder mystery show. Callie knew how she would feel if she had wasted all of that food. Lisa must be disappointed, furious – or both.
Callie was sipping her icy drink when Max returned. “You got food, awesome,” he said, sitting down across from her and appearing to cram half of the fries in his mouth with one huge fist.
“Careful not to choke,” Callie admonished, realizing she was treating Max like a child. “Sorry, mom habits die hard,” she explained when he gave her a look. “Any ideas about who that could have been?”
“Not a clue,” Max said. “I wonder if the person we saw tonight has been going in and out of the house this whole time. I don’t know why they would, though. It’s a pretty risky thing to do.”
“I know.” Callie rubbed her eyes. “I wonder who cut the pane. Was it the person we saw tonight? I’m with you. I think somebody is using that window to get in the house, someone who doesn’t want the police to know what they’re up to. If they use the window, they won’t disturb the crime scene tape.”
Max picked up a menu and Callie took a long drink from the glass of water the waitress had just set down on the table. “We didn’t see anyone go inside, just walk across the lawn, so we don’t have definite proof. Still, I find it hard to believe this is the first time the intruder has been there.”
“There’s one point that’s really bugging me. It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone want to go inside that house and possibly get caught?” Max slugged down some more pop.
“I wish I knew.” Callie put her head into her hands. “Especially because Holly wasn’t found inside the house, she was outside.” She gave him a rueful half smile. “The house can’t have anything of value in it. It’s been vacant a long time and the police would have collected any evidence by now. I guess we’ve got another mystery to solve.”
“Yep, it sure does look that way. But we’re not going to solve it tonight. Callie, this has all been a blast, but I’d better get going. Food and drinks are on me.”
“No, that’s not necessary. It’s my treat,” Callie protested.
“Not this time. I figure I owe you. I haven’t had a good scare like that since I went on the biggest rollercoaster at Crystal Bay carnival when I was a kid. Tonight was a bargain!”
***
Max and Callie were droopy during the morning shift early the next day at Callie’s Kitchen, which was unfortunate as there were several additional items on the agenda, including preparing more food for the upcoming Greek Fest.
“What’s with you two today?” Piper asked as Max and Callie staggered to the back of the shop for yet another cup of coffee. “You both seem half dead.”
“It’s nothing,” Max said, gulping down the hot brew. “I just stayed up too late last night watching a movie.” He kept his eyes off Callie, and she started busying herself with food in the freezer.
“Which movie?” Piper asked. She put her hands on her hips and stared at Max.
“Uh…it was an Alfred Hitchcock film fest. I fell asleep somewhere in the middle of Rear Window and woke up during Pyscho.”
“That would make me lose sleep,” Piper said, nodding. “I hope it wasn’t during the shower scene.”
Piper was still chatting away about classic thrillers as she led Max back to the front of the shop. Callie breathed a sigh of relief when they were gone.
She felt remorse for snooping around the crime scene house, especially because she hadn’t really discovered much for all the risk she’d taken. However, she did have proof that an intruder had been there. Callie was bracing herself for the conversation she’d have to have with Sands about her nighttime escapades.
Still, she couldn’t fully regret her attemp
ts at getting more information. Mainly, she felt bad for involving Max.
She’d deal with all of this later, she thought, facing the packages of phyllo dough thawing on the countertop. In the meantime, she had Greek pies galore to bake.
Working with the food helped to unsnarl some of the tensions that had built up during the last several days. At George’s request, she was baking one of his favorite summer “pites”: zucchini-phyllo pie or kolokithopita for the Greek Fest. The seasonal zucchini gave the pita a mild but unique flavor that was savory and just a little sweet. The zucchini had to be fully drained or the filling would be too wet, and it would ruin the crispness of the baked phyllo. Better get to work.
The first kolokithopita were just going into the oven when Callie heard Max calling her from the front of the shop. Callie set the timer, wiped off her hands, and smoothed her hair before heading out front. Please don’t let it be the police, she thought, but no, it was another unwelcome visitor. Hugh.
“Hi, is everything OK?” Callie greeted him with a worried frown.
“Just thought I’d stop in. Can we talk for a minute?”
Callie knew that Max and Piper were listening and customers were starting to trickle in for their lunch breaks. Whatever he needed to say didn’t require so many ears.
“Sure. Follow me, but I can’t talk long. This is a busy time of day for us.”
Hugh nodded and followed Callie into the back room. She offered him a cold drink, but he shook his head.
“I wanted to apologize for how I acted the other night about Holly. I realized that it must have come as a big shock to you.”
Callie shrugged, but was inwardly surprised at Hugh’s humility. Why did he care?
Hugh continued. “I wasn’t trying to put anything over on you, I swear. It’s just that it was embarrassing. I wasn’t even living in Crystal Bay at the time, so I guess I’d forgotten a little bit about how “small” small towns really are. I should have known better than to date someone who could turn out to be our daughter’s teacher. Besides, Raine didn’t know.”
“I see. Well, thanks for the apology.” Hugh didn’t budge. “Is there more?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with Holly’s death,” Hugh said, his face turning bright red. “Just because I was secretive about our dating life doesn’t mean I had anything against her.”
“Now we’re getting to the crux of it. Let me guess. You want me to tell Sands to back off.” Callie threw her hands up in the air. “You must know I can’t tell him how to run his investigation!”
“I know that. If you told Sands you didn’t think I had anything to do with it, maybe it would help. This could jeopardize my new job! While I feel awful about Holly, I didn’t do anything.”
Callie stared at Hugh. She understood not wanting to lose a new job and he seemed sincere. “For your information, I have told Sands that I didn’t think you had anything to do with this.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Do you think I’d want you around Olivia if I thought anything else? But I can’t control the investigation. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Hugh turned to leave. “I should get out of your way. I don’t want to be late. I’m headed over to The Harris House right now to talk to Lisa Linley.” He rolled his eyes.
“What’s wrong with Lisa? Or is it the project itself?”
“A little bit of both. April, the project manager, said Lisa’s a little difficult to work with.”
“How is Lisa being ‘difficult’?” Callie asked. She remembered Tammy’s argument with Lisa and how strained Lisa had seemed when she had dinner with Sands at The Harris House.
“It’s fairly typical stuff. She keeps arguing about how to do the renovations. When she hired my firm, she seemed really open to our expertise. Up to her, of course, but I think we gave her a reasonable estimate. If she does the whole thing now, she’ll end up saving money. If she cuts corners now, she may end up spending more later.” Hugh shook his head. “I tried to explain this to her. April said she did, too.”
“That’s strange, but she must have some solid reasons for her logic,” Callie remarked. “Maybe she has a limited budget.”
“All customers have reasons for their logic,” Hugh pointed out. “You should know that.”
Callie had to laugh. “I sure do.”
Hugh seemed to brighten a little bit. “Overall, though, I really love this job. I get to work on some amazing old homes. Did you know that a lot of the Gilded Age homes on the bay were built when wealthy Chicagoans had to evacuate the city after the Chicago Fire?”
“Yes, of course I know, thanks to Grandma Viv’s interest in old homes and real estate. A lot of these homes stay in families for generations.” Callie laughed. “It’s a good thing, too. Most people keep up the homes and renovate them as needed. It would be a shame if they went to rack and ruin.” She was silent a minute thinking of the home where she’d found Holly Tennyson. She gulped, disturbed by the intensity of the memory.
Hugh didn’t notice. He was warming up to his topic. “The thing I love about some of these older homes is that they have some really interesting extra features. For example, a few of these business magnates from Chicago had ties to the mafia, and they’d have all sorts of secret compartments they could hide in, if they needed to. I’ve been really curious to know if The Harris House has anything like that.”
“Secret compartments?”
“Yes. And the compartments also came in handy for anyone who was bootlegging back in the ‘20s. They needed a place to hide their stash of booze. We’ve found secret cellars in some of these homes, even secret compartments in the walls. They’ve always been empty, though.” Callie stifled a laugh at his wistful tone.
“Nice try, but The Harris House has had several owners. My dad knew the last owner and he never mentioned anything to him.”
“Yeah, probably.” Hugh shrugged. “Well, it is what it is. I do enjoy my job, even when clients are difficult. Hey, don’t repeat that, by the way. I know you deal with Lisa sometimes, too.”
“Of course not,” Callie said, her mind on Lisa and what, if any, secrets that The Harris House could be hiding.
“Give my love to Olivia,” Hugh said. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”
After Hugh had gone, Callie leaned back against the countertop, staring at the pita ingredients strewn around the kitchen. Everybody had secrets, it seemed.
In fact, two things were starting to become the focus of her life.
Secrets. And pies.
Thirteen
“Olivia!” Callie called for the third time. Yesterday had been a blur of baking, cooking and puzzling out who could have been the “intruder” at the home where Holly was killed. Callie hadn’t heard a peep from Sands regarding any news of the intruder, except for a text saying hello and that they would have to talk later. In a way she was relieved. She knew she’d have to tell him the truth about the reason she saw the intruder in the first place.
Shaking off that thought, Callie called up the stairs again. “It’s time for day camp! We’ve got to go!” Whipping out her compact, she put some powder on her shiny nose and checked her lipstick, determined to look fresh-faced for customers despite the heat and her overall exhaustion.
Nothing.
“Olivia!” No response.
Grumbling under her breath, Callie climbed the stairs, Koukla at her heels. Olivia had been at breakfast, but Callie hadn’t seen her since she sent her to get dressed.
Olivia’s bedroom door was open, but she was nowhere to be found. Callie exhaled loudly and jumped when she heard a soft sound from inside Olivia’s closet. She threw open the door.
Olivia was huddled on her closet floor among a slew of shoes and stuffed animals, crying her eyes out.
“Honey!” Callie knelt down and drew her daughter in her arms. Koukla jumped into Olivia’s lap.
“I’m just sad about Ms. Tennyson,” Olivia said between sobs.
“
Well, of course you are,” Callie soothed. “I am too.” She held her daughter a minute and Olivia stopped crying.
“Is it all right if we go someplace a little more airy?” Callie asked, touching the tip of Olivia’s nose. “This closet is a little stuffy.”
Olivia half smiled at that. “I guess.” Callie heaved herself to her feet and took Olivia’s hand.
“Let’s sit down,” Callie said, gesturing toward the bed. She and her daughter sat down, and Koukla batted their shins with her paws until Olivia pulled the little Yorkie up on the bed with them.
“You don’t have to go to camp if you don’t want to,” Callie said, stroking Olivia’s tangled hair. “I can try and get Grandma Viv over here.” She glanced at her watch.
“I want to go to camp.” Olivia grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “I’m just sad sometimes. I’m sorry to make us late.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Callie said. “Anything I can do to help?”
Olivia looked at her mother with huge eyes. “You promised you’d help find out who did this to Ms. Tennyson. Have you found anything out yet?”
Oh, dear. “A few things,” Callie hedged. “I’m sure the police are finding things out, too. Obviously, they don’t share all the news with us, but they’re working on it, I assure you.”
Olivia nodded solemnly and said nothing.
“Think you can make it to camp?” Callie asked gently.
“Yeah.” Olivia got to her feet and stepped into her well-worn sneakers.
“Let’s go then. But if you need me, you can call me.” She hugged her daughter tight. Koukla jumped off the bed and barked as if in affirmation. Even Olivia had to chuckle a little bit at the Yorkie’s antics.
***
Callie was pensive as she dished up loukoumades and poured coffee for a stream of customers that morning, Max working busily by her side.
Olivia was obviously suffering. How could Callie assure her daughter that her teacher’s killer would be found when she had no idea that was true?
Callie had her cell phone in her pocket in case Olivia needed an early pickup from camp, but she realized if her daughter called, she’d have to bring her to work with her. She couldn’t leave her home alone, and there was still so much to do.