Sweet Ginger Poison (6 page)

And why was Kayla Hanker not more upset about the
death of her boyfriend?

When Elijah had dropped Ginger off at the bakery after
their visit with Kayla, she noticed that Lacey was being unusually quiet. She
couldn’t tell whether she was mad at somebody or upset about Navy. She
considered taking her aside and having a talk with her. But Lacey could be
moody—even on a
good
day. Ginger decided to leave her alone.

Lacey had reason to be upset about Navy. The two had
dated for a long time. And even though they were no longer together, Ginger had
the impression that Lacey still had feelings for him.

She had often wished that Lacey would just get over
him, once and for all. Ginger wanted to see Lacey move on with her life—and
allow herself to be happy. The young woman was special to Ginger—almost like
the daughter she never had.

There were several things Ginger would need to share
with the police—if Navy’s death was ruled a murder. She would be obligated to
tell everything she knew.

And the thing that bothered her the most was the
panties the deputies found under the front seat of Navy’s car. She was fairly
certain that they weren’t Kayla’s. Could they be the murderer’s?

Ginger prayed that she was wrong, but she was almost
sure the panties belonged to Lacey.

Coreyville Coffee Cakes was open Monday through
Saturday, 7:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Most of the customers came early in the
morning or for a coffee break at around 10:00 a.m. or 2:00 p.m. Ginger had
learned through trial and error that staying open past 3:30 was not profitable.

This particular Saturday had been filled with all the
talk of Navy Newcomb. Every customer had an opinion. Some said he had it
coming. Folks debated what had really happened to him. Was it accidental or
murder?

The last customer walked out at 3:28, and Cheryl
locked the front door and flipped the sign to ‘Closed.’ Lacey began to scrub
each table with a hot, soapy dishcloth while Danny swept and mopped the floors.
Cheryl went into the office to do her bookwork and prepare the checks and cash
for bank deposit.

At about 4:00, Cheryl walked out of the office. Lacey
and Danny were sitting in the dining area, several tables apart, ignoring each
other.

“Ready to go?” Cheryl always insisted that they wait
for her. She wasn’t comfortable going out into the alley by herself carrying a
bag full of money—even in a law abiding town like Coreyville.

“Yeah,” said Danny.

Danny and Lacey stood up.

“What’s the matter with you two?” said Cheryl, in her
usual rapid-fire style. “You look like you just missed the last bus to
Christmas.”

“Nothing,” said Lacey.

“Look,” said Cheryl, “I’m tired of lying to Ginger.
What do you care if she knows you’re living together? If you’re so ashamed of
it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“Ask
her
,” said Danny.

Cheryl looked at Lacey. “Well?”

“Because she’ll be disappointed in me,” said Lacey
with her head hung low.

“Why?” said Danny. “Because I’m not good enough for
you?”

“I didn’t say that,” said Lacey.

“Never mind,” said Cheryl. “Let’s go. If I don’t get
home soon and get out of these shoes, my feet are gonna kick my butt to
sorry-ville.”

The three walked to the back kitchen door. Danny
followed Lacey to her car as Cheryl locked up. They waited for Cheryl to drive
away first.

On the way to Lacey’s apartment, neither she nor Danny
said a word. Once they were inside, Danny let loose.

“I’m sick of this!” He snatched a ceramic coffee cup
off the top of a bookshelf and threw it down. It hit the edge of the coffee
table and exploded into dozens of pieces that flew all over the living room.

Lacey broke down. She collapsed onto the couch, crying
aloud.

Suddenly Danny felt like a creep. He rushed to her
side. “I’m sorry, Lacey. Please forgive me.” Why had he done that? Danny had
never gotten violent around Lacey before. He’d always been able to control his
rage in her presence. “I’m sorry I was late this morning.”

“You promised you’d be on time.”

“I know. But I fell back asleep.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know. It was stupid. I’m sorry. It won’t happen
again—I promise.”

“No. Don’t
promise
. Don’t promise me anything.
Just say what you’re gonna do, and then
do
it. I need to know I can
depend on you.”

“You can, Honeypie. You definitely can depend on me.”

But the truth was that Danny Iper never had much of a
reputation for being dependable. A few months earlier, his dad had thought that
his son was finally ready to be responsible. So, he pulled some strings to get
him a job. Phillip had been so proud that he and his son would be working for
the same construction company.

But Danny didn’t like construction. There was too much
sweating and too many bosses. One day Danny’s foreman caught him sleeping on
the job, so he filled a paper cup with cold water and threw it in Danny’s face.
The other men thought it was hilarious. Danny jumped to his feet, ready to
fight somebody—only to be laughed into embarrassment.

But that afternoon, Danny took his revenge on the
foreman. He sneaked up behind him and dumped a keg of ice water onto the
foreman’s head—the way football players sometimes do to their coach after
winning a big game. It was Danny’s turn to laugh—and get fired.

Phillip did not say anything to his son about getting
fired—even when they got into the pickup to go home. But once they were on the
freeway, he unleashed a tirade upon the boy about how stupid, foolish,
brain-dead, and irresponsible he was—over and over, in every possible
combination of degrading adverbs and adjectives.

Danny gripped the door handle so tightly that his hand
turned blue. His only way out would have been to fling the door open and jump.
He pictured his banged-up body, covered in blood—just another dead skunk on the
side of the highway. He had come very close to yanking that door handle.

He gently lifted Lacey’s chin and looked straight into
her moist blue eyes. “You believe me, don’t you, Lacey? You really
can
depend
on me.”

She stood up, but didn’t answer him.

What did she want from him? How could he make her feel
better? “Is there something
else
bothering you?”

“No. I’m fine.” She walked into the kitchen.

Danny got up from the couch and went after her. “Well,
you don’t
seem
fine.”

She stood at the kitchen sink looking out the window.
“Just…drop it. Okay?”

“Wait a second.” He walked up beside her. “This
doesn’t have anything to do with
him
, does it?”

She began to whimper.

“You’re kidding. This is ridiculous. You said you were
over him.”

“I thought I
was
.”

“Hey, we’re all sorry he’s dead. But you shouldn’t be
crying
over him—unless you were still in
love
with him!”

Lacey broke down.

Danny stepped back. “I can’t believe this.” He began
to walk around in a small circle faster and faster as he talked. “You said you
loved
me
, and we were going to get married and have kids. And now I find
out you’re still in love with Navy Newcomb. How do you think that makes me
feel?”

She turned around. “I’m sorry, Danny. It’s not really
that I still loved him. It’s just that we dated for a long time and—”

“—I know, I know. But you were supposed to be
completely over him by now.” Danny continued to walk the circle, gaining speed.

“I
am
. I really am.” She stepped forward and
grabbed his arm to stop him. “I love you, Danny.” She moved in close to him.
“Only you.”

As soon as their lips touched their bodies began to
catch fire. They started taking off each other’s clothes as they moved in an
awkward, twirling, out of control motion toward the bedroom. Whatever each of
them had been thinking a minute earlier was now irrelevant.

**********

When Danny opened his eyes he was on his side, facing
her. She was just a few inches away. He lifted his head off the pillow slightly
to check the alarm clock on her nightstand. Less than an hour had passed since
they had come home.

He admired her milky-smooth skin, the way her lips
curled up slightly at the edges, and her long eye lashes. And her hair. How he
loved to bury his head in her long, thick, dark brown hair.

Danny knew how lucky he was to have Lacey. The only
problem had been getting her to forget about Navy. When Danny first started
dating her, it was always ‘Navy did this and Navy said that.’ And just when he
would think she was finally over him, Danny would see him there in her eyes
again.

In some ways, Danny had been a little envious of Navy.
The guy was one reckless, womanizing, cool son of a millionaire. And if you
were his girlfriend, you got everything your little heart desired—until he went
broke. But even then, he was somehow still cool.

Danny knew he could never compete with the legend in
Lacey’s mind. He needed to somehow
remove
Navy from her mind. That had
proved to be much harder than he expected.

But now it was different. Now that Navy was dead,
Lacey could finally begin to forget about him. The tiny ember of hope that she
would someday get back together with him had gone cold.

I’m not such a bad guy, thought Danny. I’ll learn to
control my temper. And I’ll be a wonderful husband and father.

Danny continued to adore Lacey’s sleeping face.

He smiled. Too bad Navy died. Too bad.

The Domino Girls Club met every Tuesday and Saturday
night, around the oak table in Ginger’s breakfast nook. Their potluck dinners
were made up of whatever each woman had cooked that day, plus a pan of hot,
buttery rolls and a never-ending supply of iced tea. Usually Ginger provided
dessert.

The meal would be followed by a seven-round game of
Chickenfoot dominos, which could get pretty rowdy, especially with Jane
mouthing off and Barb wise cracking.

“Oh, Ethel, I love this casserole,” said Ginger.
“Could I get your recipe?”

Barb grabbed Ethel’s arm. “Don’t do it, Ethel. Not
unless she’ll swap it for one of her secret coffee cake recipes.”

Ethel Eggly and Barb Omatta, 67 and 66, respectively,
had been best friends for many years. And they had grown closer than ever since
their husbands, Earl and Henry, were killed in a horrific speedboat accident
three years ago.

“
I’ll
tell you what’s in it,” said Jane.

“No, you won’t,” said Barb. “This ain’t some Betty
Crocker concoction, Jane. It’s Ethel’s own recipe.”

“I know that,” said Jane. “But I can tell you the
ingredients just by tasting it.” She took a bite and chewed slowly and
thoughtfully. She closed her eyes as though she were meditating.

“What’s the verdict, Jane?” said Ginger.

“You really think she can do it?” said Ethel.

Ginger smiled and shrugged.

“Well?” said Barb. “Wait—let me guess. You have
determined that Ethel’s tuna casserole contains…tuna!”

Ginger and Ethel snickered.

Almost everything that came out of Barb’s mouth had a
sarcastic ring to it. Sometimes she grated on Ginger’s nerves. But other times
she was laugh-out-loud funny.

“Well, that’s a given,” said Jane. “Of course it has
tuna.”

Ethel and Barb looked at each other and started
laughing. Ginger tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help herself.

“What so funny?” said Jane. “I’m just getting started.
Be patient. I’ll tell you what the rest of the ingredients are.”

“You’ve already blown it, Honey, and you don’t even
know it,” said Barb.

“Huh?” said Jane.

“It’s not tuna,” said Ginger. “It’s chicken.”

Jane didn’t have an acute sense of taste like Ginger.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a problem in her line of work. Jane’s Diner offered plain
old country cooking. It was delicious food—but it wasn’t fancy.

For example, breakfast at Jane’s consisted of bacon,
ham, sausage, eggs, grits, pancakes, biscuits and gravy. Once in a while an
out-of-towner would wander in and ask for something not on the menu—like Eggs
Benedict.

That was enough to get you branded a ‘city slicker.’
Jane would delight in putting a hand on one hip and saying, “I’m sorry, Sir,
but we don’t have those here. In fact, nobody in town does. You might want to
try McDonalds. I understand they’ve got something called an Egg McMuffin.” Jane
wasn’t normally a smart aleck. But she just couldn’t tolerate uppity people.

“Chicken, tuna—whatever,” said Jane. “Never mind.”

Barb looked at Ginger. “So, Ginge, I hear you had
quite a morning.”