Sweet Ginger Poison

uncomfortable inside on most days. So, he removed one of his front windows and installed a huge exhaust fan. His electric bill went up a bit—but not near as much as his profit.

Then a couple of months ago he had another idea: What would happen if he extended his hours until 10:00 p.m.? And instead of offering donuts that had been made that morning, what if he fried up a fresh batch at around 7:00 p.m. He knew he would still get almost no business at dinner time. But what about right after dinner, and then close to bedtime when people got the munchies? What did those folks normally do—go out for ice cream? Why not a box of hot, fresh donuts? It was worth a try.

Once the word got out, his evening traffic began to grow. Now his second-busiest time of day was between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m. His store was becoming the destinationfor a late night sugar fix.

And he had learned to have the coffee brewing right up until closing. His coffee was always fresh—anytime of the day or night. But you paid for it. A cup of Cash and Carry coffee cost fifty percent more than anywhere else in town—but the cups were twice as big. And his coffee cups were not the environmentally-friendly ones made out of recycled paper. Cash hated those things. He served piping hot, I-dare-you-to-sue-me-for-burning-yourself, coffee in heavy duty Styrofoam cups.

A drive-through window would have brought in even more business. But because his shop was located between two other stores, there was no way to add one. Cash had briefly wondered about the possibility of a drive-through window at the back of the building. But the City Council never would have approved it. His neighboring shop owners would have thrown a fit over the idea of Cash’s customers driving through theiralley all day long.

Silvy Knox had only been working at the donut shop for a few weeks. The young blonde had landed the job soon after moving to Coreyville. She had lied about being nineteen, calculating that Cash would be more likely to sleep with a twenty-one year-old.

“It’s almost closing time, Boys.”

The two young cops looked up from their coffee and donuts. Silvy could tell they wanted her body. Otherwise, one or both of them would have made some remark about how she should show more respect to the police. A young woman like her had no right to refer to Coreyville’s Finest as ‘boys.’ She knew how hot she was, and enjoyed using it to the max.

“We need nourishment so we’ll have plenty of energy to serve and protect,” said Officer #1.

“Yeah,” said Officer #2, “without us out there to protect you, you’d feel…naked.” He did a slow scan of her body—as though he had X-ray vision.

“Ooh,” said Silvy, “I guess I would.” She covered herself with both hands, as though she were naked. The cops seemed to lose their appetite—for donuts. She loved it. “So, what’s happening around town—anything new?”

“Well, I guess you heard about Navy Newcomb,” said Officer #1.”

“Sure,” said Silvy. “Everybody’s heard about that.”

“Yeah,” said Officer #2, “but I’ll bet you didn’t know…,” lowering his voice, “…that it was murder.”

“Really?” said Silvy. “I thought he just tripped and hit his head.”

“He was poisoned,” said Officer #2.

“You’re kidding,” said Silvy.

She pumped them for more details, but soon realized they didn’t have any.

After the cops left and the dining area had been cleaned up for the next day, the other workers took off and Silvy locked the front door.

She walked into the kitchen and saw Cash organizing an array of ingredients on the counter. His brand new ovens were preheating.

Up until now, the only food items Cash sold were donuts: glazed, powered, filled, twisted, puffed, rolled— every imaginable type. He dominated the donut market in Coreyville. Now he wanted to branch out. He wanted a business like Ginger Lightley’s. People came from all over, just to purchase her famous baked money-makers.

But he would go further than Ginger had. She refused to pursue an internet business. Cash figured she was just too old to understand the opportunities—the fortune to be made through online sales. He wouldn’t be so foolish. His new cakes would one day be even more famous than Ginger’s.

“Everybody’s gone and we’re all locked up,” said Silvy.

“Check out these jumbo muffin pans,” said Cash. “Wait until people get a taste of my new Cash and Carry Cupcakes.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to call them muffins? Cupcakes are usually kinda small.”

“No. I’m calling them cupcakes because it goes better with Cash and Carry. Besides, a lot of restaurants sell muffins. I’m gonna offer people a new vision of what a cupcake can be.”

“Big?”

“Yeah—and amazingly delicious. But I need to come up with a cool name for each flavor—like Ginger Lightley does. She’s got the Carrot Orange Blossom, the Pineapple Doozie, the Veggie Lightley, and names like that.”

“And don’t forget the Sweet Ginger Cake.”

“Yeah. I should have a cupcake with myname on it. Like…the CashCake or something.”

“What kind of flavor would that be? Would it taste like money?”

“Very funny. I don’t know yet. I’ll think of something.”

Silvy slithered in between Cash and the counter and looked up at him with her ultra-seductive eyes. “I’d like to taste yourflavor right now, Baby.”

Normally, this would have been enough to make the ambitious entrepreneur forget all about work. But not tonight. He stepped to the side, picked up the black book and began to thumb through it.

“I can’t believe you’re already using it,” said Silvy.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because he just died this morning.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” said Cash, flipping another page.

“Don’t you feel bad that you didn’t even payhim for it?”

“I wouldhave—if he had lived long enough.” He set the book down, opened, and checked the items on the counter against the recipe. “Good. I’ve got everything I need. Might as well get started.”

Silvy wondered why Cash couldn’t have just created his ownrecipes instead of stealing them. But she knew the answer: Cash had a dull sense of taste. He did know a good donut when he tasted it. But beyond dough and icing, he was lost.

“I’ve got some bad news,” said Silvy.

“What’s that?”

“A couple of cops came in just before closing.”

“Cops love their coffee and donuts, don’t they? It’s a stereotype—but it’s true.”

“Yeah.” She just stood there waiting for him to take her seriously.

Cash stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “What?”

“Navy was murdered.”

“Murdered? I though he just tripped and busted his head open.”

“They did an autopsy. He was poisoned.”

“Well, I had nothing to do with it. Why is it bad news for me?”

“Because apparently the poison was in something he ate or drank this morning. And I remember you coming out of your office to get him a cup of coffee.”

“Well, yeah. But I sure didn’t put anything in it. They can test the cup and see for themselves.”

“Yes, that’s right. They can test the Cash and Carry coffee cup.”

“Oh, I get what you’re saying. The police are going to wonder what time he came by here.”

“And Ginger Lightley’s probably already reported that her recipe book was stolen.”

“But they have no proof of anything.” His tense face began to relax. “Navy’s dead. And the only other people who knew about the book were you and me.”