“Five dollars for a cup of coffee and that from my wife!” he said.“That’s what it would run you at a coffee shop these days, and it’s ex-wif...,” she reminded him. He produced a five-dollar bill and she took it and headed into the kitchen.She returned in a minute and half with a cup of the black elixir. She set it on the coffee table in front of him.She recrossed the floor of the room and resumed her standing position facing him. So, your excuse?” she said. The man looked worried. The meeting was. But the experience was unpleasant all the same.“I’m right behind you, Sugar,” Cinnamon said. “Don’t be scared.”“Gee, thanks, Cinnamon.”Armed with a flashlight and dressed in a sweatshirt and latex gloves, I led the way down into the low-ceilinged basement. I’m not sure you can actually call this a basement. It was more like a deep area in the crawlspace that only extended under the kitchen. At some time in the distant past it was used as a fruit cellar for canned goods. A shelf held a series of. More

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