Sweet Ginger Poison (4 page)

Ginger and Elijah got into his car and drove away from
the nursing home. He had offered to break the sad news to Navy’s girlfriend,
Kayla. Ginger asked to go along.

“Navy’s house is on the south side of town,” said
Ginger. “The reason I know is because I’ve heard Lacey Greendale talk about
that ‘crummy little rent house’ he lives in. She and Navy used to be a couple.”

“What broke them up?”

“Kayla.”

“Oh.”

“Well, in all fairness, it was really more about the
drinking and the gambling, and wasting his trust fund.”

“It was a big mistake to give it to him all at once. I
don’t know many twenty-one year olds who could handle that kind of money.”

“He didn’t stick around here for long. Remember? I
guess he just couldn’t spend the money fast enough in Coreyville. So, he moved
to Dallas. Lacey was a senior in high school. She didn’t even say goodbye to
her parents. But according to her, they didn’t care what she did anyway.”

“I would have driven to Dallas and given that boy a
piece of my mind. My daughter would have been back in her own bed that very
first night.”

Unfortunately, Elijah didn’t have a daughter—or a son.
His ex-wife had deprived him of children. Not because she couldn’t have
them—but because she didn’t want the responsibility. It would have been nice if
she’d shared her true feelings with him before they got married. Once he had
said ‘I do,’ it was too late. A divorce would have ended his career in the
ministry—or at least he
thought
so.

Clara divorced him four years ago, saying she was sick
of being a pastor’s wife—having to act a certain way around church members,
leading the women’s group, and always having to put on a Christian face for
everybody. She had drudged her way through it for thirty years. Now she wanted
to be herself—whatever
that
meant. It seemed like a mid-life crisis to
Elijah. But he couldn’t talk any sense into her.

He knew he would have to resign. At the time, he was
fifty-nine years old. What jobs would be open to him at that age—with his
background? Bosses don’t like to hire a former minister. They figure he’ll make
the other employees uncomfortable. Or scare off customers.

But he could not go on as though nothing had happened.
Being divorced and being a Southern Baptist minister were
incompatibilities—like a staunch vegetarian participating in a hot dog eating
contest. At least the vegetarian could puke up the hot dogs and repent. Elijah
wished he had such an option.

He had prepared his resignation for the monthly
deacons meeting on that Monday night. But the deacons were wise to his plans.
And they surprised him with a show of overwhelming support. Nobody in the
church wanted him to leave. He must stay. They would not accept his
resignation.

So, by a unanimous vote of the deacons of Corey Acres
Baptist Church that night, Elijah was allowed to continue the work he so loved.
Too bad his childlessness could not also be fixed by a roomful of raised hands.
Maybe Elijah wouldn’t have been a great dad. Perhaps his ministry would have
suffered due to the strain of raising teenagers. He would never get a chance to
find out—thanks to Clara.

“Lacey admitted that she enjoyed it at first,” said
Ginger. “Who wouldn’t? Navy was buying her all kinds of jewelry and
clothes—anything she wanted. He was taking her out to fancy restaurants and
clubs. Navy’s the one who got her smoking. She was only sixteen when they
started dating, and he was this cool college guy who smoked cigars and drove
like a maniac.”

“Didn’t he flunk out of college?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Technically he wasn’t a college
student when they started dating—but he wasn’t working either. He was just
kinda bumming around.”

“Waiting for his trust fund.”

“And getting into trouble. But his mother always
bailed him out.”

“She should have let him spend a little time in jail.
That might have helped.”

“Yeah, maybe. But Lacey thought he could do no wrong.
She finally began to wake up after they had been in Dallas for a year or so.
She said he was spending the money so fast that she began to worry about their
future. When were they going to settle down and buy a house? And what about
kids? She decided to force him to do the right thing. She got on a bus and came
home to Coreyville, thinking he would come after her. Then he would get his act
together and they could live happily ever after. But her plan backfired.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah. He got mad and found himself a hooker. I guess
that was his way of paying her back for leaving him.”

“And then he came to his senses, but she wouldn’t take
him back after she found out what he’d done?”

“No. He fell in love with the hooker, and the two of
them spent the rest of the money. Then he tried to get more money from his
mother. But she wouldn’t give him any.”

“I’m confused. When did
Kayla
come into the
picture?”

Ginger raised her left eyebrow and waited.

“Kayla is the
hooker?
”

“Yes.
Former
hooker. But let’s try not to call
her that.”

“This should be interesting.”

“There it is—that blue house on the right.”

Elijah pulled into the driveway and parked behind the
cherry red Miata.

They walked up the stairs, onto the porch and Elijah
knocked.

After a few seconds, a woman yelled, “Just a minute.”

Finally the door opened.

“Yeah?”

She was wearing a robe and her hair was a mess. Ginger
figured she must have just gotten out of bed. But then she noticed the socks
and tennis shoes.

“Are you Kayla,” said Elijah.

“Yes.”

“Hi. I’m Elijah Bideman, pastor of Corey Acres Baptist
Church, and this is Ginger Lightley. I’m afraid we have some bad news. Would
you mind if we came in?”

“Can’t you just tell me? As you can see, I’m not
dressed for company. I just got out of bed. I like to sleep in on Saturdays.”

“Sure, I understand,” said Elijah. “It’s about Navy.”

“Yeah?”

She seemed curious, but not particularly concerned.

“This morning he was out at the nursing home and he
fell down and…he died.”

“What? He just fell down?”

“The police think the fall is what killed him. But
they’re not sure. They’ll know more after the autopsy.”

Kayla contorted her face. Ginger couldn’t tell if it
was because Navy was dead and now they were going to cut him up, or because the
thought of autopsies in general made her ill.

“Well…thanks for coming to tell me. Goodbye.”

She closed the door. They could hear her walking away,
toward the back of the house.

Elijah looked at Ginger.

“That was kind of a weird reaction,” said Ginger.

“People react differently to the loss of a loved one,”
he said, as they walked down the stairs. “Five minutes from now she’ll probably
be crying her eyes out.”

Ginger walked to the front of the Miata and felt the
hood.

“What are you doing?” said Elijah.

“It’s still warm.”

They got into his car.

He started the engine. “So? What are trying to say?”

“Why did she lie? She told us she just got out of bed.
Yet her car engine is still warm. And she was wearing tennis shoes.”

He pulled out of the driveway. “Okay, I’ll admit—it
does seem strange.” He drove toward town.

“Not just strange. Her boyfriend died mysteriously—”

“—well, I wouldn’t say
mysteriously
. We’ll know
exactly what killed him after the autopsy.”

“Maybe the reason Kayla wasn’t torn up about Navy’s
death…is that she had something to do with it.”

“Who are you—Jessica Fletcher?”

“No. But think about it. It’s possible. A big-city
hooker probably knows all kinds of ways to kill a person.”

“Okay, stop. Your imagination is starting to run wild.
The police will solve this thing. Just leave it up to them.”

“You’re right, Elijah. That’s what I need to do.”

But somehow she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

Daniel Foenapper sat down at his desk. The twin
gold-plated pens stood at attention on their marble base at the sides of the
little clock. It had been a thoughtful gift from his mother in celebration of
his promotion to Chief of Police. Nine-fifteen. Had it really only been ninety
minutes ago that he got the call about Navy Newcomb?

Kip had assured him the job would be a cakewalk.
Nothing much ever happens in Coreyville. Yet he’d only been chief for six days,
and was already having to deal with a suspicious death. But maybe it was
accidental. If the medical examiner determined that Navy simply fell down and
busted his head open and died, all Daniel’s worrying would have been for
nothing. He just needed to chill.

His desk phone rang. Who would be calling him at his
office on Saturday? And when were they going to upgrade the phones? Caller ID
would come in handy.

“Chief Foenapper.”

“Hi, Chief. This is Ginger Lightley. The dispatcher
put me through. She said she really wasn’t supposed to, but I told her I had
important information regarding the Navy Newcomb case.”

He cleared his throat, and tried to sound
authoritative. “It’s not really a
case
. It was probably just an
accident.”

“I don’t know, Chief. When Reverend Bideman and I
dropped by to tell Kayla Hanker about Navy, she was acting strangely.”

“Well, I imagine so—after you told her that her
boyfriend was dead.”

“But that’s just it. She didn’t seem very upset about
it. She told us she’d just gotten out of bed, yet she was wearing tennis shoes.
And her car engine was still warm. She’d apparently just come home from
somewhere.”

“Maybe she made a quick trip to a convenience store
for a pack of cigarettes.”

“And she was embarrassed for us to find out that she
smokes? I don’t think she’s the type of person that cares what people think
about her.”

“Who knows? It could be anything. And I certainly
don’t see how any of this is relevant to Navy’s death.”

“But—”

“—I appreciate you trying to help, but this is my job.
So, please—just let me do it.”

“I didn’t mean to imply…I’m sorry. But please let me
know what you find out. Navy was delivering cakes for me when he died. I want
to know what happened to him.”

“I’ll let you know. And thanks again, Mrs. Lightley.
Goodbye.”

That was all he needed—some amateur crime dog sniffing
around for clues.
He
was the chief of police.
He
was in charge.

Sure—every other man on the Coreyville police force
had more years of experience than he did. But his Masters in Criminal Justice
had given him the advantage. Nobody else had a masters. It didn’t matter that
he had graduated near the bottom of his class.

The chief leaned back in his plush leather chair and
admired his wall of educational accomplishments. The massive walnut frames made
even his Coreyville High School diploma look like something from Harvard.

The phone rang.

It better not be Mrs. Lightley calling back with
another ‘clue.’

“Chief Foenapper.”

“Daniel, come up to my office.” The mayor hung up.

What was he upset about
today?
The mayor had
called Daniel to his office every day this week.

The first floor of the courthouse was occupied by the
Justice of the Peace Courtroom, the water department, and various other
offices. The police department was located on the second floor. The mayor’s
office and other city administrator offices were on the third floor. The entire
fourth floor was the city jail.

Daniel pushed the elevator button, and immediately
became impatient. He took the stairs, two at a time, up to the third floor and
walked quickly to the mayor’s office. He knocked timidly.

“Come in, Daniel.” said the mayor.

Daniel walked in and shut the door behind him.

“What’s going on, Daniel? I understand you may have a
murder on your hands.”

“
Murder?
No, I don’t think so. And how did you
find out? It just happened a couple of hours ago.”

“Murder is big news in a small town,
Chief
.”

“But I don’t believe it was murder. I think he just
tripped and fell.”

“Well, whatever it is, I want this thing put to bed in
a hurry. That’s the way we do it here in Coreyville now, right? Now that
we’re
in charge.”

“Right, Kip.”

The mayor jumped to his feet, and was instantly in
Daniel’s face. “Don’t you EVER call me that again. My name is
Houston
Kassle.
There is no Kipford, Kip, or Kippy anymore. You
know
that.”