Chapter One
Calliope Kostas’ bright blue Volkswagen SUV screeched to a halt in front of one of the most stunning
homes in Crystal Bay, Wisconsin. It belonged to her boyfriend, Drew, and it was spectacular. Huge,
mullioned windows beckoned, letting in dazzling light and a panorama of the changing seasons.
Composed entirely of burnished brick, the house was designed to impres s, with majestic neo-classical
columns and an envy-producing view of the water. It wasn’t on the million-dollar mansion boat tour for
the summer visitors, but Callie thought that it should be.
Today, Drew’s house looked poised for an autumn photo shoot. The oaks and maples on the property
were no longer simply tipped with the caramel and gold shades of fall as they had been the last time
Callie visited. Now they were ablaze with red, orange and yellow tones that belonged on an artist’s
palette.
Glancing at the mirror for a quick check of her appearance, Callie noticed a powdery white substance
clinging to her long, wavy dark hair. It had to be either flour or powdered sugar from her earlier baking
session at “
Callie’s Kitchen,”
her Mediterranean-inspired meals-from-scratch business. Powdered sugar was a
key ingredient of the kourabiethes she’d been baking. The rich Greek butter cookies were rolled in
powdered sugar while they were hot from the oven and the sugar tended to fly out everywhere. Quickly,
she tried to brush the white stuff out of her dark hair, but only succeeded in transferring it more
securely into her locks. Great: Now it looked like she was graying at the temples. So much for her
attempts at glamour. Drew would have to take her as is – powdered sugar in her hair and all.
Callie liked to look her best, but normally, she didn’t put quite so much energy into her appearance.
Tonight was different. Drew had offered to host her for a rare intimate dinner, not usually allowed by
their busy schedules. An excellent cook, financially secure, funny and dreamy to look at with his green
eyes, dark hair and tall, muscular physique, Drew was considered a catch. However, Callie had mixed
feelings for the reason behind this particular get-together: Drew’s triumph in the first annual Taste of
Crystal Bay contest. Along with a lot of their food-business buddies, they’d both been competitors in
what had proved to be a cutthroat cookoff. Even though she had feelings for Drew, it was impossible
for Callie to ignore the cold, hard financial facts: Drew’s win had shattered her hopes of getting the
$10,000 prize.
Going home to get ready after work had taken longer than had she thought it would and Callie realized
she couldn’t keep Drew waiting any longer. As she strode up the paved walkway, she hoped her
lateness wouldn’t be interpreted as rudeness. Determined to be cheerful and supportive, she put on what
she hoped was a happy face and rang Drew’s doorbell.
No answer. She waited another minute and rang again. Nothing. “
Oh, Drew,”
Callie whispered under her
breath. “
Come on. Not today.”
Maybe the doorbell was broken. She rapped on the front door. Silence reigned, so Callie continued to hit
the door, each knock growing in emphasis and volume. At least her repeated hitting of the massive oak
door was good for relieving stress. Give the guy a break, she thought. Drew was probably on the phone
spreading his good news to the world. Just to see if he’d pick up, Callie dialed his cell phone number.
No answer: it went straight to voice mail.