Spiced and Iced (A Callie's Kitchen Mystery Book 2) Page 18

  Nick pressed his lips together and was silent but the red color of his face only intensified.

  “Take it up with my mother-in-law,” he said finally. “I don’t have time for this!” He swept past Callie and out the front door. Great, he was back behind the wheel.

  Callie started when she heard footfalls, but it was only Mrs. Dayton or Lexy moving around upstairs.

  “Quick!” she whispered. “Let’s find a broom and then let’s get out of here! I’ll send Mrs. Dayton a check.”

  Locating a broom in a small closet off of the kitchen, the three women teamed up to sweep every last shard and tiny bit of glass from the floor. Thankfully, it was polished, uncarpeted hardwood. Callie sent Viv and Sweetie to the front door while she did one final inspection. It looked good to her.

  She took a cautious step to the foot of the staircase once again and called up to Mrs. Dayton. “We’re leaving! Enjoy the party!”

  A moment’s hesitation, then Mrs. Dayton called down. “All right. See yourselves out.”

  But of course. The trio walked to the door. When they were finally safe in their car, Callie realized she’d been holding her breath. Boy, those people made her tense and it wasn’t only the fact that her group was responsible for breaking an expensive pitcher.

  Callie had dealt with rudeness and brusqueness before, but truthfully, she’d never dealt with clients who had such barely suppressed anger.

  “Am I glad that’s over,” Callie told Viv and Sweetie, as she exhaled in a whoosh. “Thanks for being my bodyguards.”

  “Some bodyguards,” Viv protested. “I could just kick myself.”

  “What were you doing, anyway?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I picked up the pitcher, just to admire it, you see. I love Waterford. The darn thing just slipped out of my hands.”

  “It’s OK, Grandma. Stuff happens. I’m just glad we got out of there when we did. I have insurance – should pay for the breakage. You don’t owe a dime.”

  Callie backed down the driveway, on the lookout for Nick Hawkins and his potentially wayward driving.

  Something wasn’t quite right at Chez Dayton. That much was clear.

  Twenty

  Still somewhat troubled at the show of rage from the normally docile Nick Hawkins, Callie went to her shop early the next morning to finalize her food for the Melody Cartwright book launch/tea party. She had a few things to make fresh, but she figured that the more she finished early, the better off she’d be.

  As the sumptuous, spicy scents of gingerbread cake – to be topped after baking with a creamy glaze that dripped down the sides – filled her warm, bright workspace, she found herself thinking about “Sandy Madison” and any possible connection that she could have to Melody Cartwright.

  Callie checked the timers and saw that only 10 minutes remained on the gingerbread cakes. They’d have to cool before being topped with the rich glaze, so she had a little time after they came out of the oven.

  Looking around to make sure no one was watching her, Callie tapped the search “Sandy Madison” into her cell phone. Several entries came up and Callie scrolled through them looking for likely matches.

  Soon she’d clicked on a promising link. Filling the screen was the photo of a young, blonde woman wearing bikini bottoms and nothing else. Callie blushed. Fortunately, the model was facing away from the camera so none of her “naughty bits” showed. Callie squinted at the small image. It was hard to make out the woman’s features.

  She clicked on the next link and this time, the face of “Sandy Madison” stared out at her. She blinked. The woman did look just a little bit familiar. The eyes, the face … they looked quite a bit like a certain cookbook author.

  Could it be? No!

  Callie started to take another look but the jingle of the bell over her door startled her. Quickly, she tried to click off of the image. In her haste, her phone slipped right out of her hands and clattered to the floor.

  With a small whimper, Callie picked it up, almost afraid to look. Sure enough, the screen was shattered. Well, that’s what she got for looking at salacious web sites.

  Sighing she tested the phone and found that it still was useable – but only for calls, not for anything else. The screen was barely readable. Who knew when she’d have time to replace it – not to mention the expense? With Christmas gifts looming, she would have to wait until after New Year’s.

  Callie put the damaged phone back in her pocket and focused on serving her customers. But inwardly, her curiosity was beyond piqued. Without access to her private screen, where could she continue her research? Her home computer was tempting, but she shared it with Olivia. She really didn’t want to take the chance of her daughter stumbling across any inappropriate images.

  As she was wiping crumbs off the counter, she had lightbulb moment.

  There was a large antique shop just a block away from Callie’s Kitchen and she vaguely knew the owner, since it was a spot she enjoyed browsing in, when she had the time. They carried everything, even vintage men’s magazines. She’d always walked right by those displays – until now.

  Determined now, she grabbed her shattered phone out of her pocket and tapped in a number before she could lose her nerve.

  “Hiya, Callie. Howya doin’?” asked Earl, the manager when Callie identified herself. Along with his wife, a 70-something with bright red hair named “Ginger,” they had been selling vintage and antiques to Crystal Bay’s residents and tourists since the 1970s.

  “I’m looking for some, uh…reading material.”

  Earl cut in cheerily. “I just got a bunch of those vintage cookbooks you like. You want me to hold them for you? I’ve got Betty Crocker from the ‘60s, even a Good Housekeeping from the ‘50s. Good condition, not a bad price.”

  This was going to be more difficult than she thought. “No, Earl, this is a bit different. I’m looking for men’s magazines. You know, the kind with centerfolds. I’m looking for stuff from the 1990s.”

  “Callie, don’t tell me George sent you on this wild goose chase. I’ll whip him myself!”

  “No, no. It’s just for a, uh, friend.” Why did she keep explaining herself? What friend would send her on an errand like this?”

  “Yeah, no problem, Callie.” Earl was apparently used to discretion where his buyers were concerned. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got all kinds of stuff like that. But believe it or not, I just sold out. Just a second –” Callie heard a muffled bit of conversation and Earl was back on the line.

  “Yeah, Ginger said a woman came in the other day and bought the lot of them. She wasn’t around for that particular transaction; one of the other sales girls was working that day. Sales girl didn’t know the lady – she just happened to comment on it to Ginger because it’s unusual to sell out of that stuff in one fell swoop. Still, collectors are nutty. You never know what they’ll buy. Thank goodness, they are, ‘cause a lot of ‘em will pay high prices for something like that. We did okay.”

  Callie stammered a bit. This wasn’t what she was expecting at all. Strike one. “Thanks, for the info, Earl. I appreciate it. And while you’re at it, go ahead and hold the Betty Crocker for me.”

  * * *

  That night at home, Callie realized that the Christmas cheer she’d felt just a few days ago was rapidly diminishing. She was anxious to see if her hunch was true and knew that she could ask Sam or Sands, or even Max to look up Sandy Madison for her online. Briefly she wondered if Max’s dad would let her take a peek at his magazine collection and then she colored beet red. No way could she ask that of him. For one thing, Max would probably be mortified.

  And what if her hunch did prove true? Callie didn’t know if she was ready to expose Melody – she cringed a bit at the term – when it could damage her reputation right before her book launch. If she was wrong about Melody – well, then, she’d look ridiculous. Plus, rumors could get out and that could hurt Melody’s chances.

  An even more unwelcome thought occurred to Callie. I
f Melody had assumed a new identity, it was just possible that Natalie had discovered it and that was why she was killed. Callie tried to picture gentle Melody killing someone and shook her head.

  No, for right now Callie would do the investigating on her own.

  Besides the aches and pains from her minor car accident, and the strike-out on the “Sandy Madison” magazines, Callie realized that her brooding had not only been about Melody – she was also worried about her fall-out with Samantha.

  Checking to see if Olivia was safely in her bedroom upstairs, Callie decided to phone Sam and see if she’d cooled down at all. Her entire body felt tense as she waited for her friend to answer.

  “Hello?” Sam said, her voice sounding thick and strange.

  “Sam? It’s Callie. Are you…all right? I was just calling about the other day. I feel terrible.”

  “No, I’m not all right, actually.” Sam was silent a minute. Then, “You were right about Bix.”

  “What do you mean? He didn’t do anything stupid or hurt you in any way did he?” Callie was aghast.

  “He hurt me all right but not in any physical way. More of a psychic way. He dumped me. I can’t believe I’m so upset. I mean, I’m a big girl, right? And it’s not like I wasn’t warned.” Sam blew her nose loudly.

  “Oh Sam, don’t do this to yourself. I am sorry, you know, despite what I’d heard about him. What happened?”

  “He left it kind of vague. My guess is that he met somebody else. I really liked him – it feels like a gut punch.” Sam blew her nose, loudly, into the phone.

  “I’m sorry,” Callie repeated. “I’d come over there but I can’t leave Olivia right now.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I look awful and I should probably be alone. My plan right now is to lie around, eat potato chips, watch old movies on TV and feel sorry for myself. After a brief period of that, I’ll get back in the saddle.” The two of them laughed.

  “Anyway, I haven’t been very nice to you lately.” Sam sighed. “Well, you were right. You can say ‘I told you so.’”

  “Sam, come on. You know I’d never say that to you.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Sam paused. “Let’s get together when I’ve emerged from my self-pity cocoon.”

  “You bet. Stop by anytime. Or come visit me at work.”

  The two friends rang off, and Callie was relieved that Bix and Sam were no more, but she was also concerned. She certainly hoped her best friend wasn’t now going to be the target of the odd behavior he’d exhibited to other girlfriends.

  Callie sat there a moment, cuddling Koukla who had jumped on her lap. Sam’s love life was one thing – but what about Callie’s?

  Ever since her car accident, Callie had sensed a tension in Sands. He was still kind and friendly but there was an aloofness that hadn’t been there previously. It worried her a bit, but at the same time, she didn’t want to assume the worst. She had been enjoying the easy, non-stressful relationship they’d seemed to be developing and the last thing she wanted to do was push it.

  “Let’s face it, Koukla,” she said, rubbing the dog’s ears. “I’m a little gun-shy when it comes to guys.” Koukla just stared back at her, an adoring look on her face. If only humans were as simple to get along with as dogs.

  Callie’s ruminations were interrupted by her daughter who suddenly materialized in front of her, her cheeks flushed. “Mom,” she began breathlessly, “I have to go to the library. Can you take me – like now?”

  Callie peeked out the window – it was snowing, but lightly. “I don’t suppose it can wait until tomorrow?” she asked ruefully.

  “No. I’m sorry, Mom. I have a project due and I need a certain book. I thought it was due the day after tomorrow, but I checked the calendar and it’s due tomorrow!”

  Callie sighed. “And this isn’t something you can get off of the Internet?”

  “No,” Olivia, said, growing a little more agitated. “We need to use this certain book for the report. It won’t take long. Come on, Mom. Please.”

  Callie heaved herself off of the sofa, dislodging Koukla in the process. “Sorry, Koukla,” she said. “I’d rather stay inside but it’s not to be.”

  “I’ll get the car warmed up,” Callie told her daughter. “You get your coat.”

  “You’re the best mom in the whole wide world!” Olivia chirped, relieved that her mother was now taking action on her behalf.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Callie laughed. “Last-minute school projects are my specialty.”

  Soon the two of them were bundled up and powering along in the icy darkness towards the library. It didn’t close for another two hours but the cloud cover cloaked the streets in darkness and not even a star could be seen – it felt like the middle of the night. Callie found herself glancing surreptitiously in her rearview mirror a couple of times trying to gauge if anyone was suddenly speeding up, but they passed only one or two cars on their journey.

  Callie parked in the sparsely-populated parking lot and looked around as an idea struck her. Maybe she could use this unexpected trip to the library to do a little additional research on Sandy Madison.

  Despite the cold and her tiredness, Callie found that the small and charming Crystal Bay Library was a balm to her spirits. The structure was designed in the 1950s by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, the famous Wisconsin resident, and it had a beauty and charm that made you want to sit down and stay awhile. Tall windows on one entire wall of the building framed picturesque views of the bay and offered a changing panorama of the seasons.

  Olivia marched in and shed her coat, which Callie took from her. Olivia knew her way around the library and took off in the direction of the young adult department in search of her book, so Callie sauntered over to circulation desk to talk to a librarian she recognized. Bev Anderson was a frequent customer at Callie’s Kitchen and one of the best-read women Callie knew.

  “Hi, Callie,” she offered cheerily. “Cold night to be out. Can I help you find anything? We just got a bunch of new paperbacks in stock.”

  “No, not tonight, although that does sound wonderful. I just need to use one of the computers for a bit.” You had to sign in to use them, so Callie handed over her library card. You had only an hour at a time but that was plenty. She didn’t plan to linger.

  Before heading over the computer station, she checked in with Olivia who had found her book and was already avidly reading it. “I have to research something real quick,” she said to her daughter. “Can you sit here and read while you wait?” Olivia nodded without looking up and Callie smiled to herself.

  The library was relatively empty, but for a few high school kids studying, their brows furrowed over thick textbooks, and older folks gathering reading materials to fortify them for the cold winter days. It wasn’t long until Callie found the links she was seeking, including a few more on auction sites. The library blocked any sites that were too explicit, thank goodness, but the auction sites showed only “appropriate” images and some of the links looked promising.

  She took a closer look: Earl was right when he said that collectors would pay top dollar for their favorites. Depending on the issue, the prices were surprisingly high.

  Scrolling quickly before Bev or anyone else busted her looking at this “adult” merchandise, Callie felt her heart do a little flip in her chest when she saw a thumbnail photo with the heading “featuring Sandy Madison” on it. Quickly, she clicked on the thumbnail.

  The face of a beautiful, twenty-something woman stared back at her, a sultry look in her heavily made-up eyes. The woman was blonde and her nose was a little bigger, but Callie felt herself gripping the edges of the desk as realization dawned slowly. Her hunch had been correct.

  Put on a dark wig and some glasses and you had the spitting image of Melody Cartwright.

  Twenty One

  Callie sat a minute, absorbing this information. In her astonishment, however, she had let the screen – now showing an enlarged title of the said men’s magaz
ine for everyone to see – sit for too long.

  “Why, Callie,” said a voice at her elbow and she whirled around. “What are you looking at?”

  Quickly, Callie clicked off of the site, her face feeling like it was on fire despite the cold evening. Kayla, coat check girl and Melody Cartwright co-worker from The English Country Inn was smiling down at her, a quizzical look on her face.

  “Uh, nothing,” Callie stammered, thoroughly angry at herself for being caught in such a compromising position. A weak explanation occurred to her and she grabbed at it. “I must have clicked on the wrong thing. I was actually looking for a Christmas present and it took me to that page.”

  Kayla looked bemused. “Yeah, you really have to be careful on the Internet,” she said pointedly.

  Callie clicked off the site and stood up, gathering her purse and outerwear. “I’m sure I’ll see you at Melody’s book launch,” she stammered to Kayla.

  Another mistake. Why on earth had she brought up Melody? Her face flamed again, but Kayla was losing interest and gazing vaguely around the library.

  “I’m hoping to make it. I might have to work. Well, stay warm,” Kayla advised, raising an eyebrow. She sauntered off towards the section marked “Romance.”

  Face still burning, Callie collected Olivia and then retrieved her library card from Bev, making small talk, but barely able to meet her gaze. Olivia checked out her school book and Callie hustled them both out of there, feeling like a thief in the night.

  Besides an embarrassment that threatened to smother her, she was blown away by the photo she’d found of “Sandy Madison.” It was Melody Cartwright, Callie was sure of it: same face shape, (basically) the same facial features, just different hair color and all of that make-up. To the indifferent observer, she supposed they would look very different.

  As she drove, Callie listened to the excited chatter of her daughter, grateful for the distraction, but her brain was churning and she had to force herself to focus on the road. Living in a small town was generally a wonderful thing, but you couldn’t do anything without running into somebody – or in this case, somebodies – that you knew. How unfortunate to have run into Kayla when she was almost home free!