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Sweet Ginger Poison glm-1 Page 11

by Robert Burton Robinson


  “Not totally,” said Ginger. “I went to visit Ellegora Newcomb this morning. That didn’t help much. By the way, Navy’s funeral is tomorrow at ten. Y’all want to go with me?”

  The other women nodded.

  Ginger went on. “But then I dropped by Carl Vittleman’s office. He’s the Newcomb’s attorney. But he wasn’t there. Instead I met with his son, Cray—who I wasn’t impressed with at all. Then, on the way out, I got his receptionist to spill the beans.”

  “What?” said Jane. “What beans?” She could barely contain her excitement. Ginger sensed that the sugar from the cake was beginning to kick in.

  “From what she said, it made me think there was a second trust fund. You know that Navy blew the first one—all two million of it. So, I’m thinking there was a second one that he was unaware of, and that he was due to get it on his twenty-fifth birthday. Remember: he got the first one when he turned 21.”

  “Yeah,” said Jane. “His dad had set up the trust fund before Navy was born.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Ginger.

  “So, you think his father may have set up twotrust funds?” said Ethel. “The second one being a backup in case he squandered the first one?”

  “If so,” said Barb, “the dad was a pretty smart cookie.”

  “Yeah,” said Ginger, “except when he walked out in front of that bus and got himself run over.”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Ethel, cringing.

  “But how would it profit Cray Vittleman for Navy to die?” said Barb. “That doesn’t add up.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” said Ginger, “Guess who I saw in the parking lot when I came out of his office?”

  “Kayla.” said Jane.

  Ginger nodded.

  “I get it,” said Ethel. “The two of them are having an affair, and Cray tells her about the secret trust fund, so they plot to kill Navy.”

  “She collects the money,” said Jane.

  “And they ride off into the sunset,” said Ethel.

  “But Ginger, I thought you said Kayla was Navy’s girlfriend—not his wife,” said Jane.

  “Yeah,” said Ginger. “That’s the one hole in my theory.”

  “And it’s a big, gapinghole,” said Barb. “Better keep looking, Honey. This theory ain’t gonna fly.”

  “What if they really were married, but they didn’t want anybody to know?” said Jane.

  “Look—Navy never spent one second worrying about what other people thought,” said Barb. “So, why would he hide the fact that he was married? It makes no sense.”

  What Barb had said was perfectly logical. But Ginger still wasn’t ready to give up on her theory.

  Chapter 20

  It was too late to knock on Ginger’s door. He knew that. The porch was dark, but there was light coming from the living room. It was 10:45 p.m., so she was probably dressed for bed. He pulled the car over anyway. What would the neighbors think?

  He got out of his car, walked to the door, and knocked.

  Ginger seemed tired, but happy to see him. “Elijah?”

  “Sorry to bother you so late, Ginger.”

  “It’s no bother. Come on in.”

  She took his coat and draped it across a chair. They sat down in the living room.

  “So, what brings you out this time of night?”

  “Well, I know you’ve been trying to think of other suspects for Navy’s murder.”

  She perked up. “You’ve got one for me?”

  “Maybe. But I’m not sure I should be telling you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I learned this information during a counseling session tonight.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’re a Catholic priest.”

  What was he doing here? “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, Ginger.” He stood up.

  “No, wait. You don’t have to mention the name of the person you counseled,” said Ginger. “Unless, of course, that person is the suspect.”

  He hesitated.

  “Elijah, please. What will it hurt?”

  “Manny Monet.”

  “The shoe shine guy?”

  “Yeah. What I found out is that he has a side business: loan sharking.”

  “You’re kidding. I wouldn’t have thought he had much money to loan.”

  “According to…my Mr. X, Manny started out small, making payday loans.”

  “I hate those. They’re such a rip-off.”

  “I’m guessing that these days he makes way more money with his illegal banking than he does on shoe shines.”

  “So, you think Navy borrowed money from Manny?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering.”

  “Navy wasgetting desperate. He didn’t have a paying job. I think he was just holding out for help from his mother.”

  “And something tells me that if he did borrow money from Mr. Monet, it was a lot more than a couple hundred dollars.”

  “Let’s say it was several thousand. Then Navy couldn’t pay it back. And maybe he even thumbed his nose at Manny, thinking there was nothing he could do about it.”

  “Yeah. But Manny couldn’t let him get away with that. What if word got around? Maybe I’ve seen too many movies, but wouldn’t Manny feel he had to go break Navy’s legs or something?”

  “Yeah—so people would be afraid of him. Very good, Elijah. I think you’ve come up with a solid suspect.”

  There was a loud crack of thunder.

  Elijah grimaced. “I hope that’s not God’s way of saying he’s mad at me.”

  Ginger laughed. “No, I think he’s just telling us there’s a storm coming.”

  “Well, I’d better go.”

  Ginger stood up and walked him to the door. “Thank you so much, Elijah.” She hugged him.

  Just stay right here in my arms, thought Elijah. When Ginger released him, she looked up into his eyes. It was all he could do to keep himself from kissing her on the lips. But he feared that if he did the next lightning strike would rip through the ceiling and strike him dead. Why, Lord? Why can’t I show this marvelous woman how I feel about her?

  “Goodnight, Elijah. Drive carefully.” She picked up his coat and handed to him.

  He opened the door. “Goodnight, Ginger.”

  **********

  Danny could hardly wait to get his money. He would take the five thousand to Shreveport and turn it into fifty thousand in one night. He loved gambling. But he wasn’t like most of the chumps who think they can beat the house. He really could.

  As he pulled off the highway onto the dirt road, it began to drizzle. Danny wasn’t crazy about doing business in the freezing rain and lightning, but it wouldn’t take long.

  He drove until he reached the illegal dump site. It was mounds of the type stuff you can’t give away or leave out for the city to pick up. The pile was more rusty than stinky—made up of things like TVs, refrigerators, bicycles, mattresses, etc.

  Danny checked his watch. It was 10:57 p.m. He expected to see headlights in his rearview mirror at any minute.

  A pop in his left ear made him jump. Then he realized somebody was knocking on the window. He rolled it down.

  “Get out.”

  Danny opened the door and stepped out. He began to shiver almost immediately, and regretted coming without a coat. The half-frozen raindrop pellets began to strike his head. It seemed like his thick hair was the only thing keeping the little ice missiles from penetrating his skull.

  “Just give me my cash, so I can get out of here,” said Danny.

  “Give me my gun.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The rain began to pour down. Suddenly there was a pistol jammed into Danny’s left cheek.

  “Whoa. What are you doing?”

  “Tell me what you did with the gun.”

  “My girlfriend took it. And I don’t know what she did with it.”

  “Lacey Greendale?”

  “Y
es.”

  “Looks like I’ll have to get it from her myself. Maybe I’ll take a little sugarwhile I’m at it.”

  “Don’t you touch her!”

  “You’re in no position to give meorders.”

  “Well…then just give me my money.”

  “So, you’re going to stand there and tell me you killed Navy.”

  “Yes.”

  “You chickened out on shooting him, so you laced his coffee cake with fish oil.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you have any idea how much I hate being lied to?”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “I followed you Saturday morning. I watched you park your car down the road and then walk back and hide in the woods. So, you couldn’t have been the one who put the fish oil in his coffee cake since you were nowhere near the bakery Saturday morning until after he died.”

  “Uh…”

  “I suppose you could have gotten your girlfriend to do it for you.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “But if she was going to poison his coffee cake, why would you bother to drive out to the nursing home?”

  “I…uh…don’t know.”

  “In fact, I would think you would have wanted to stay as far away from there as possible.”

  Danny didn’t have a response. The rain was now coming down in sheetsrather than drops. He was standing in two inches of water, about to be shot in the head—if the lightning didn’t get him first.

  “I don’t allow people to cheat me out of my money.”

  “I wasn’t trying to.”

  “Yes, you were. You expected me to pay you for a job you didn’t do.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t accept your apology. Goodbye, Danny.”

  “No, no.” Danny held his hands in front of his face and closed his eyes.

  A deafening boom of thunder shook the ground. It was more than enough to mask the gunshot. But how was he able to still think with a bullet in his brain? He opened his eyes. He was standing alone in the rain.

  Then he felt something and looked down. There was a bird pecking at his stomach. He tried to shoo it away. Then he realized it wasn’t a bird—it was the handle of knife.

  He pulled downward and outward with both hands and it came out two inches. He pulled again and now he could see four inches of steel. One last yank, and it was completely out. He held it up and stared at the seven-inch blade in disbelief.

  Blood gushed down the front of his pants. His knees gave way and his body began to topple.

  “I’m so sorry, Lacey.”

  He hit the ground face first. Mud squished into his mouth and up his nostrils. It would have been enough to suffocate him if his heart had not already stopped beating.

  Chapter 21

  “Looks like Navy had a lot of friends,” said Ethel.

  “They’re not friends,” said Barb. “They’re just curious.”

  “Like us,” said Jane, surveying the room.

  Ginger was curious too. But she had a legitimate reason to attend Navy’s funeral: one of her coffee cakes had killed him.

  She spotted Bull Crawley way in the back left corner, sitting by himself. Then his brother, Cash, walked in with a beautiful young busty blonde. Bull stared at them. The blonde returned Bull’s stare. Cash ignored Bull altogether. They sat on the right side.

  “It’s almost time for it to start. We’d better go sit down,” said Ginger.

  Just as the women started to move, Ginger said, “Wait just a second.”

  Manny Monet had walked into the room. He sauntered up the aisle to the casket and peered in.

  Ginger thought surely he wouldn’t come to Navy’s funeral if he had been the one who killed him. She saw Manny give Navy’s corpse the once-over, and then almost start to cry—before quickly regained his composure.

  But wait. She replayed it in her mind. She had thought she’d seen him almost cry because that’s what would have made sense to her. But that’s not what he did. It hadn’t been a cry that Manny had stifled—it had been a laugh. He thought it was funnythat Navy was dead.

  Perhaps Elijah was right in thinking that Navy borrowed money from Manny and didn’t pay it back. Now Manny was having the last laugh. Ginger would look into it. But she’d have to proceed with caution. He looked dangerous.

  Ginger heard a door open in the front, and then saw Ellegora and another woman being escorted to the seats located to the right of the podium. It was the area reserved for family members. Ginger recognized the woman as the servant she’d met at Ellegora’s house. Apparently Navy had no other family. Or maybe they just didn’t care enough to show up.

  “Let’s go,” said Ginger. She led her friends to the pew where Addie and Cheryl were sitting. Ginger had decided at the last minute that Coreyville Coffee Cakes would close for the funeral. Lacey, the prime suspect for Navy’s murder, had understandably decided to skip it.

  Ginger was not surprised that Danny was also absent. Yesterday he had asked to be off today. He had not told Cheryl why he needed the day off. But everybody knew it certainly wasn’t so he could attend Navy’s funeral.

  No sooner than they sat down, Elijah walked out to the podium. Ginger knew that neither Navy nor Ellegora were members of Corey Acres Baptist Church. But she wasn’t surprised that Elijah had been asked to officiate. Some ministers try to use the death of a man like Navy as a lesson to everyone in the congregation. Get right with God or you’ll end up where Navy is—in Hell.

  Ginger thought those ministers were way out of line. How much could they really know about a person’s relationship with God? Elijah wouldn’t do that. He had told Ginger that when he led a funeral service his job was to comfort the family and say something positive about the deceased.

  Ginger knew it would be a struggle to find something good to say about the man in that casket. But Elijah managed to put a positive spin on Navy’s life. Ellegora seemed to appreciate it.

  After the service, as Ginger and the other women were getting up to leave, she saw Chief Foenapper walk in through the family entrance and start talking to Ellegora. What was so important that it couldn’t wait until a more appropriate time?

  Ginger said goodbye to her fellow Domino Girls and told Addie and Cheryl she would see them at the bakery in a little while. Then she got into her car and drove to Cash & Carry Donuts.

  It was time to confront Cash Crawley. Ginger was fairly certain that he was in possession of her fake coffee cake recipe book, and that Navy was the one who stole it for him.

  She parked her car and walked into the store. It appeared there was only one employee on the job. There weren’t many donut customers at 11:00 a.m.

  As she approached the woman standing behind the counter, the blonde from the funeral home walked out from the back hallway, saw Ginger, and said, “May I help you?”

  “Yes, I hope so. I’m Ginger Lightley, and—”

  “—glad to meet you, Ginger. I’m Silvy Knox. I’ve heard great things about your coffee cakes.”

  Ginger smiled. “Thanks. You should try one.”

  “I want to. I just haven’t got around to it yet. I’ve only been living here in Coreyville for a couple of months.”

  “I see. Well, come by and have your first coffee cake on me.”

  Silvy smiled warmly. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Ginger.”

  “Just tell them I sent you.”

  “Great. I’ll do that,” said Silvy. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, I was hoping to speak with Cash.”

  “Are you two friends?”

  “No. Actually, we’ve never been formally introduced.”

  “I can take care of that. Follow me.”

  Silvy led her up the hallway to Cash’s office.

  “You have a visitor,” said Silvy.

  Cash looked up from the paperwork on his desk. “Oh, uh—”

  “—this is Ginger Lightley,” said Silvy. “Ginger, meet Cash Crawley.”


  Cash stood up and hurried around the desk to shake her hand. “So glad to finally meet you, Ginger,” he said, and then quickly added, “Is it okay if I call you ‘Ginger?’”

  Ginger smiled politely. “Oh course.”

  “And you can call me ‘Cash.’”

  Silvy walked away.

  “Please have a seat.” Cash closed the door and walked back to his desk and sat down. “I have to say that I’m a long-time admirer of your work.”

  “Well, thank you.” Should she jump right in, or make some more small talk first? She noticed the potted plant in the corner. “What a beautiful plant. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before. What is it?”

  “I really don’t know. Silvy gave it to me. She’s the blonde who introduced us.”

  “Yes. Nice young lady,” said Ginger. “I notice you’ve started selling muffins.” Here we go.

  “I call them cupcakes, but yes, I just added them to the menu yesterday.”

  “One of my regulars tried one, and then shared a bite with me.”

  “Oh, really?” He looked worried.

  “Yes. It was…interesting.”

  “You didn’t like it.”

  “It tasted…fine.”

  “Great.” He grinned.

  “But there was something that bothered me about it.”

  “Too much cinnamon?”

  “No. I’m not sure whether you’re aware of this, Cash, but I have a keen sense of taste and smell.”

  “I guess you’d haveto—or you couldn’t create such wonderful recipes.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “So, I’ll bet you found something about my cupcake that could be improved with a few tweaks. Please—tell me what I need to change.”

  “No, the real issue is that I recognizedthe recipe.”

  “You mean it was similar to one you’ve tasted before?”

  “No. I mean it was a recipe I created.”

  “Oh, that couldn’t be.”

  “Where did you get your recipe, Cash?”

  “I made it up myself.”

  “No, you didn’t. You got it out of my book, didn’t you?” What was she doing? Did she really expect him to just admit it?

  He hesitated, bit his lower lip, and then said, “Yes, you’re right—it was yourrecipe. I’m sorry.”

 

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