pepper and crushed jalapeno? Yes—if they were in the proper amounts.
One of her best-sellers contained mustard powder. But nobody had ever been able to determine the mystery ingredient that gave them that wonderful tangy flavor. It was fun to watch them try.
Ginger took a knife and cut off a small corner of the cake. She put it into her mouth and let her taste buds go to work.
“Too peppery.” She spit it into the trash.
The next one she tasted was better—just the right amount of burn on the tongue to let you know it’s supposed to be spicy, but not enough to make you want to spit it out.
Ginger took a second bite to make sure. No. She had missed it on the first pass. By concentrating so hard on the level of pepper she missed the fact that the cocoa was too weak.
Four more possibilities, she thought. The third one tasted perfect—everything she had imagined it would be. And it smelled magnificent. She made note of the winner. Now she would make up a larger batch and bake them for tonight.
She stood at the kitchen window for a minute, remembering what Jane had said. Apparently at least one deputy believed Navy had been murdered. Did he know something Ginger didn’t know?
She wondered if the police had their
Maybe the police did have some details that Ginger was unaware of. But she knew some things
If Navy was the one who had taken it, perhaps he had dropped it off somewhere before going to the nursing home. Assuming he was murdered, could the recipe book have anything to do it?
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
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.
Chapter 8
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
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? He’d 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
“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 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’s 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?
