On the Chopping Block (A Callie's Kitchen Mystery Book 1) Page 7

  Callie stepped outside to get some air. The last warm days of Indian summer had come to a close and she could feel the familiar chill of a Wisconsin autumn in the darkening evening. Usually a brisk change in weather meant customers seeking out her heartier dishes, like soups and stews. Tonight, one or two tourists straggled in but everyone else stayed away. It was terrible to know that the customer base she’d worked so hard to fill had been lost, perhaps forever.

  It wasn’t only the fear of not earning enough money that caused her despair. She missed the banter and conversation of her customers, the compliments to her cooking, even the customers who flirted with Max while she smiled tolerantly.

  As she locked up Callie’s Kitchen for the evening, Callie felt afraid again, almost like someone was watching her. She asked Max to walk her to her car, but as the darkness settled in, she did not feel safe.

  * * *

  The morning dawned sunny but cold as Callie got up early and prepared to deliver the cakes to the breakfast meeting at the bank. Olivia was sleepy at breakfast and a little wheezy, so Callie insisted that she do a breathing treatment and made her promise to go to the nurse if necessary. She hated to sound like such a worry wart but she couldn’t help wondering if her daughter’s asthma was getting worse.

  After handing her daughter an overflowing backpack to shoulder, Callie had Olivia out the door early. She quickly walked Koukla and then set off for work, where she had to load the cakes for the First Bank of Crystal Bay and Lucille’s breakfast meeting.

  The First Bank of Crystal Bay was a small building with a quaintly majestic air. Built in the town’s early days, the building’s red brick facade featured white scrolls and columns as extra flourishes to enhance its stately appearance. Originally part of the town center, most of the small businesses had left for the Garden Street Business District, and the bank now shared the block with a small dry cleaning service, shoe repair, dentist and small drugstore that was housed in one of the town’s earliest building structures.

  Lucille was sitting at her corner desk in front of a conference room that was set up for a meeting but was currently empty of people. Callie could see fruit, napkins and coffee urns in the center of the table, along with bottles of water in a bowl full of ice.

  “Hi!” Lucille greeted Callie in an exaggerated stage whisper so as not to disturb the other customers. “Thanks again. You’re an angel to deliver these cakes on such short notice.”

  “No problem,” Callie stage-whispered back. “I just hope they’re a hit. It sounds like they’ve got a lot to live up to, since Dave was talking them up.” And wait until you get my bill, Callie thought, echoing Samantha’s words to her outside the police station.

  “Unfortunately for my personal trainer, your mini coffee cakes are my favorite,” Lucille enthused. “The only thing that tempts me more is Minette’s Chocolate Shop. I suppose closing it is a good thing for all of our figures, but the owner was in here today looking for a loan. Maybe they’ll get one.” Lucille tugged at the pencil skit that hugged her slender waist as if it were too tight, then rose from her seat. “Can you help me set up?”

  “Sure thing,” said Callie, unpacking the first box. “Minette was here this morning?”

  “No, not her. It was her husband, Jeff. He really wants that business to reopen – it’s so romantic the way he talked about his wife! He said their chocolate shop was like their baby and he had to try and save it because they both loved it so much.” Lucille fanned herself with a brochure for home loans. “Working at a bank these days is no fun. They say the economy is slowly getting better, but tell that to people dealing with home foreclosures and failing businesses.” No kidding. If she didn’t start serving more than one or two customers a day at Callie’s Kitchen – and soon – she’d be another one of those statistics.

  Callie finished setting the breakfast treats on the cake stands. The cakes did look scrumptious and she was glad she had a few extra in the delivery truck. Lucille was sipping a bottle of water, quiet for the first time in several minutes, so Callie decided to pounce.

  “You had something to tell me. About Drew? What was it?”

  “Oh, that,” Lucille hedged. “Just something that seemed strange to me. But you can’t tell anyone I told you this or I could get into trouble.” Twenty-something Lucille fidgeted a bit on her high heels and chewed on a pen cap. She looked like a worried six-year-old who doesn’t want to tattle to the teacher.

  “I understand,” Callie said, smoothing a crumb off of the cake stand and into her waiting hand.

  “Drew recently came in about two weeks ago and applied for a huge loan. Somewhere in the arena of $100,000. I know I shouldn’t have, but I peeked at his loan application materials.” Lucille waited for criticism and when none came, she shrugged and kept on with her tale. “He was in debt, both his business and his home. He really needed money. I thought his business was in the black. He had one of the nicest homes and nicest cars in Crystal Bay! It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t make sense at all,” Callie said. Why would prosperous Drew need such a large bank loan? “Thanks for telling me. The police will probably be investigating Drew’s finances, too, so please, tell them everything you know. They have been investigating me, too, since I’m the one who found him.” Callie stopped gathering her empty cake boxes and leaned against the table.

  “I know, I heard. I read the newspaper article in the Courier. That journalist really made me mad. You don’t seem like the murdering type to me, whatever that is. Besides, anyone who bakes as well as you just can’t have done something so awful!”

  Callie smiled. Lucille was a little bit ditzy, but she was loyal. Callie gave the younger woman a quick hug. “Thanks. I really appreciate your support. It’s been a difficult time.”

  “I bet!” Lucille rolled her eyes. “If I found a dead body, I’d hide under my covers and refuse to come out.”

  The two women cleaned up the rest of the boxes and said their goodbyes, with Lucille calling to Callie on her way out the door to send her the bill for the rush delivery on the cakes. A couple of bank patrons exchanged glances when they heard her name.

  The Crystal Bay gossip network was working overtime on Drew’s murder, especially with the release of the news story, but Callie couldn’t be bothered with that right now. She had bigger fish to fry. Such as: why in the world did Drew need a loan?

  Seven

  When she returned to work, a customer – not one that Callie recognized – was leaving with a small container of what appeared to be Greek chicken stew. Other than that, the shop was empty except for Max, who gave her a wave as she joined him in the cooking area.

  Delicious smells wafted from the ovens and Callie inhaled deeply. Lemon, butter, sugar: Max must be making cookies. However, that delicate scent was nearly overpowered by the fragrant odors of tomato sauce, chicken, cinnamon and above it all, the sharper scent of cucumbers and yogurt that would make a sauce for the pita bread to go along with it.

  The food smelled great, but where was the usual flow of customers to appreciate it? If business didn’t pick up, she was regretfully going to have to tell Max not to make so much food. It would only go to waste, along with the little money she had left.

  The phone rang and Callie picked it up, tucking the receiver under her ear while she stirred the contents of a massive stockpot.

  “When were you planning on telling me about your boyfriend’s murder? And what about Olivia? Are you two safe? I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.” Hugh, Callie’s ex-husband, sounded more than a little agitated.

  Deep breath, count to 10, Callie recited to herself. Reminding herself that Hugh was simply a concerned father, she kept her frustration in check.

  “Hugh, hello! Nice to hear from you, too. Can I ask who told you about this?”

  “Some detective named Sands. He came to interview Raine and me. He found our phone numbers on a cell phone that they confiscated from you.”

  At t
his news, Callie silently ran through a string of Greek curse words she’d learned from a cousin long ago. Now Sands was talking to Hugh. Things must be worse for her than she thought. Or maybe – could they possibly suspect her ex-husband? What a joke. He was thrilled with his new wife and appeared to have no interest whatsoever in her dating life, other than how it might affect their daughter.

  “Hugh, we’re fine. I’m being careful. And I’m innocent by the way. I’m cooperating with the police so that I can prove that. Dad watches Callie after school most days or she goes to a friend’s house when I’m stuck at work. She never walks by herself. Plus, I’ve even got a few karate moves I picked up from Samantha when she forced me to take that self-defense course. I know you’re worried, but I promise we’re okay.” Callie stirred the tomato sauce slowly, wishing she could dive into the warm chicken stew and sail away from her troubles.

  “I knew you would say that.” Hugh appeared to be relaxing, as was his way. Get angry first, ask questions later. “Does George know about this guy?”

  “No. And don’t tell him. I haven’t yet.”

  Hugh chuckled. “Still the same strict old George, I see. Well, you’re all grown up now. You can go out with who you want, right? Anyway, I’m sorry to hear about your loss. Let me know if you need anything.” Hugh cleared his throat. “Look, why don’t I take Olivia for a couple of days?”

  “What about school?” Callie countered. Hugh lived two towns over, closer to Madison. It would not be impossible to drive Olivia to school from there, but not exactly convenient, either.

  Hugh persisted. “How about I pick her up after school on Thursday and she can only miss one day? I can take her out on my boat with Raine.” The new wife. Loyal Samantha had given Hugh’s new wife the nickname “Raine on My Parade.”

  A boat ride. How cozy that sounded for the three of them! Callie would no doubt be eating cookies and sitting at home with Koukla – if she were lucky and not in jail.

  “I guess so,” Callie agreed with a sigh. “But she’ll want to ask her teachers for work in advance and then she might have to do some over the weekend. She doesn’t like to get behind.” Olivia could be a little rigid about having to make up school work. Another Type A personality in the making?

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll help her figure out her homework situation. This is great. I can’t wait to tell Raine. She’ll be so thrilled, she just loves Livvie.” Well, it was better than not loving her, but it still hurt to see her child go off with another woman. Thank goodness for Koukla – she had made it clear a long time ago that she preferred Callie to any other human on earth. That was probably due to Callie’s generosity with chicken, her warm lap and her habit of bringing home new dog treats, but it was true love just the same.

  “You do that, Hugh. Listen, I’m up to my eyeballs in Greek chicken, so I’ll work out the details with you later.” Callie wanted to get back to cooking, but Hugh wanted to stay on the line, another thing he never did when they were married.

  “I always did love that stew. And that Greek soup you make with lemon, rice and egg.” Hugh sounded wistful. Maybe Raine wasn’t such a great cook.

  “Hugh, I’ve got to run, but thanks for your concern. I’ll even save you some food. Bye!” How would Raine like to sit down to a dinner cooked by Hugh’s ex-wife? She probably wouldn’t mind all that much. Like most of Callie’s customers, she would probably just be happy she didn’t have to do the cooking.

  After she hung up, Callie felt her blood continued to boil at a low simmer, just like the stew on the stove. Hugh could still get her angry, much to her chagrin. But darn him, he always felt like he knew better than she did – in everything.

  Early in their relationship, when she was younger and unsure of herself, Callie had appreciated Hugh’s take-charge attitude. The more independent she grew, the more she and Hugh had grown apart. Anyway, she’d had enough of a “take-charge” attitude from George to last her a lifetime.

  It was as if her thinking of George conjured him up. When Callie took her stew off the stove, the doorbells chimed and there stood her father. This time, he didn’t look like he was seeking doughnuts or small talk. His bushy black and grey eyebrows were drawn close together over his nose and his brown eyes snapped with fire.

  “Hi, Dad,” Callie tried the lighthearted approach. “No loukoumades today but I’ve got Greek yogurt coffee cake.”

  Without a word, George walked behind the counter and enveloped Callie in a bear hug. His actions were tender, but his words were anything but. “How can a daughter of mine be mixed up in a murder?” He pulled back and stared at his daughter. “This is how I raised you? And when were you going to tell me about this Drew? I knew about him, don’t think I didn’t. I was waiting for you to come to me and tell me you had someone new in your life. But no, you didn’t trust me. Your own father.”

  “Dad,” Callie began, but he kept on speaking, his words tumbling over themselves, his Greek accent becoming more pronounced. “This is scandal! A man is murdered – a man you are seeing – and you don’t tell me. I had to find out at The Olympia from an employee who was only too happy to show me a newspaper article, stating that a female Greek food business owner had been questioned – obviously, you! I pretended to know what he was talking about but I would have expected you to tell me yourself!” George was growling now and didn’t resemble a cuddly bear any longer. He was more like a bear who had stumbled into a wasp nest.

  His angry outburst riled her, along with a burning sense of shame and embarrassment that her father had known about Drew but had kept her in the dark about this knowledge. Apparently, the two were more alike than Callie wanted to admit.

  “You can’t blame me for not telling you I was dating someone! You wouldn’t have approved. You don’t think I can handle my own affairs!” Bad choice of words, Callie realized, but George didn’t appear to notice the double entendre.

  “A father should be there to protect his daughter. You don’t allow me to be a true father when you shut me out.” George was losing steam; now he just looked sad. His craggy face sagged.

  Callie bit back another angry response. Her father was only concerned about her, just like Hugh was concerned with Olivia.

  “Dad,” she said again, and this time he was quiet. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about the murder right away. I planned to do it today, I swear.” She hugged her father and he squeezed her back in one of his infamous rib-cracking embraces. The two stepped back and stood looking at each other.

  Callie was ashamed. How often George must have wanted to question her or, God forbid, to say something critical of Drew, as was his habit with any man who’d ever been in her life, but he’d never said a word.

  “I should have come to you,” she repeated, “but I didn’t really know how things would turn out, so I just didn’t mention it.” And of course, I certainly didn’t know it would end in a murder! Callie thought.

  “You’re embarrassed that your marriage failed,” George said and Callie winced at his words. “But you have no cause to be. It’s my fault that you feel this way about yourself. I made you feel like you failed. But this is only because I felt like I’d failed you, that I hadn’t been a good enough father AND mother to you.” Callie looked at him in surprise. He continued, tears starting in the corners of his faded brown eyes.

  “You’ve been a wonderful father,” Callie said, shocked at his words. She’d always felt like he blamed her for the divorce.

  “But,” George said, his sharp tone returning. “Who is this Drew that he winds up murdered in his own home? Mark my words, he’s done something wrong. These things don’t just happen.”

  Callie felt her own brows knit together as she started to assemble a smart comeback, but then thought the better of it. George was being as magnanimous as he knew how and she shouldn’t waste the moment.

  “You might be right, Dad,” she said, thinking of what Lucille at the bank had told her about Drew’s mysterious loan.

  The two wer
e silent a minute. “Well, now what do we do?” Callie asked her father.

  George appeared to be thinking carefully about his response. “You said you have coffee cake?” he finally asked.

  “Yep.” Callie smiled at her father.

  “Well, am I going to go and get it, or are you?”

  Eight

  The next morning, Callie’s Kitchen was once again nearly devoid of customers. A few brave regulars came in for coffee and their usual meals to go, but nothing like her usual happy, hungry crowd.

  Callie mulled over the ingredients in her refrigerator. She should probably try to make some dishes and freeze them so that she didn’t waste food, but instead of menus, her mind kept replaying her short but intense visit with Samantha the previous evening. They’d caught up on a few things, but only briefly, as Sam was in the middle of a big case.

  According to Sam, Detective Sands was questioning all of Drew’s friends and colleagues. No funeral was planned yet as Drew’s body had not yet been released. With apologies, Sam had also taken back her cell phone, so Callie was left without that familiar tether to the outside world. She wanted to get a new phone but would the police take that away, too?

  After the morbid news about Drew, and her worries about the police investigation, Callie had slept fitfully was now more tired than ever. She decided to take a break from menu planning and depressing thoughts of spoiled food and wasted money, and switch gears to her social media plans. It seemed as if every time she figured out how a social network operated, the company changed it. This Piper friend of Max’s sounded like the answer to her prayers. If only she could convince her to work for college credit — or at least for food.

  Closing her laptop, Callie was surprised to see Minette walk through the door, this time without her husband. Callie waved and came out from behind the counter to greet her friend.