The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (17 page)

Momentarily flustered, Ashley fiddled with her wedding ring, so Cooper filled in the silence. “Ashley’s dedicated to charity work. She can organize a group of volunteers like a five-star general. Because of her devotion and leadership skills, untold amounts of funds have been raised to benefit local charities.”

Alek frowned. “Isn’t that a great deal of time and effort to spend on strangers?” She gestured at the photos of her hosts on the mantelpiece. “Don’t you have children to keep you busy and fill up this big house?”

This time, Lincoln intervened. “Honey, I think I hear a bell going off in the kitchen.”

After calmly indicating that everyone should proceed into the dining room, Ashley strode into the kitchen.

Though Cooper would have preferred to dump her cocktail over Alek’s head, she spoke to the frosty woman about her own career instead. Alek asked a few cursory questions about Make It Work! until Ashley reappeared wearing a Vera Bradley apron and matching oven mitts. Pushing open the swinging door between the kitchen and dining room with her hip, she proudly deposited the platter of warm lamb chops in front of her husband.

“Would you serve, darling, while I collect the rest of our meal?”

Lincoln admired the presentation for a moment and then asked Cooper and Alek to hold out their dinner plates. “These are some gorgeous chops!” He smiled at Ashley when she reentered with the potatoes and asparagus. “Sweetheart, it’s better than any restaurant!”

“I even made that honey butter you like. Let me just fetch the bread. Be back in a wink.”

Ashley didn’t notice Lincoln’s appreciative glance at his wife as she disappeared through the swinging door, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Cooper or Alek, and while Cooper was thrilled for her sister, Alek seemed displeased. However, the second Lincoln passed his coworker the bowl of potatoes, she smiled at him and launched into a monologue on climbing interest rates.

She was still talking when Ashley took her seat. Lincoln listened politely to his guest and murmured in agreement a time or two, but his eyes kept returning to his wife’s face. The couple exchanged knowing smiles while Ashley repeatedly praised Alek for her business acumen. Then, she began to make gentle inquiries regarding the other woman’s personal life.

“You look like a supermodel—you must have a dozen boyfriends!” Ashley exclaimed. “I bet you can even change a lightbulb without a stool. Men just adore tall, powerful women such as yourself.”

Alek waved off the suggestion. “I have no interest in dating. My job is my life.”

“So are you from this area originally?” Cooper asked in hopes of keeping the conversation flowing.

“No. That’s why I don’t have your charming accent.” Alek cocked her head as though seeing Cooper for the first time. “Do you travel much doing your, ah, copier repair work?”

Cooper paused in the act of cutting a piece of her lamb chop. “All of my jobs are in the metro Richmond area, but I’d love to vacation in another country. I could drive to Mexico, but I don’t speak Spanish, so I’m not sure what the experience would be like. Do you speak any foreign languages?” Cooper pushed the wine bottle in Alek’s direction.

“Four, actually. Including Spanish.” Alek poured herself a second glass of wine.

Ashley shot Cooper a questioning look and then began to collect the dishes. “We’re having Irish coffee and miniature chocolate crème brulee for dessert.”

“Let me help you,” Cooper said, rising to her feet. She hadn’t prepared any dessert and was relieved to see a bakery box on the kitchen counter. “I was worried for a sec. There are limits to my culinary skills and crème brulee is one of them.”

“You’ve done enough, Coop, and I can actually make Irish coffee.” Ashley giggled, clearly pleased over having played her part as the charming hostess well. “Why did you ask her about speaking other languages?”

Cooper shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted to see if she’d react at all when I mentioned Mexico, but either she’s a great actress or my remark didn’t serve as a reminder that she’d murdered Miguel and thrown his body in the trunk of a rental car.”

Ashley poked Cooper in the ribs with a teaspoon. “You’re naughty! I think Alek’s deadly, all right, but not like that.” She put the individual ramekins of crème brulee into the oven. “I don’t want to leave Lincoln alone with that tigress too long.
Not
that I’m afraid he’s attracted to her, but because she might poison my wineglass while he’s not looking!”

It took the two sisters several minutes to warm the dessert and pour the coffees into tall glass mugs. Alek’s seat was empty when they returned to the dining room.

“She’s powdering her nose,” Lincoln whispered and then pulled Ashley down into his lap. “Thank you for inviting her tonight, honey. Even though she doesn’t act like it, I think she’s lonely. You’re such a giving person, Ash. I am a lucky, lucky man.” He kissed her on the cheek and she nuzzled against his chest.

Cooper busied herself by refolding her napkin until it was a perfect square. When the married couple’s kisses grew more ardent, she cleared her throat. “I’ll just go and see what’s keeping your other guest.”

The plush carpet in the hallway muffling her footsteps, she quietly approached the bathroom. The door had been left slightly ajar, and as Cooper raised her hand to rap on the frame, Alek leaned into the mirror and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. At such an angle, Cooper had an unobstructed view of the other woman’s face.

“Who could ask for a more perfect boss?” Alek puckered her lips and scrutinized the monogrammed hand towels. “And his silly little wife? She’s no threat.” This comment was followed by a derisive snort. Alek appraised her reflection with satisfaction, and then her mouth twisted into a crooked smile.

Cooper backed away from the door and retreated to the dining room. Ashley and Lincoln had separated and were sipping their coffee while talking softly to each other.

“I’m going to call it a night, you two.” Cooper gave Ashley a hug and squeezed Lincoln’s shoulder. She was just about to leave when Alek reentered the room. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” Cooper said.

“And you,” Alek replied and mustered a smile that never reached her glacial eyes.

11

Angela was back at her desk the next day, surrounded by such an abundance of red, pink, and peach roses that Cooper had to part the blooms in order to see her friend’s face.

“Looks like Valentine’s Day came early,” Cooper said.

Jumping up from her chair, Angela raced around her desk and threw her arms around Cooper. “Cupid found me, thanks to you!” She dropped her arms and tugged on her bubble-gum pink sweater, which had snaked up over her hips. “There I was, at my hairdresser’s, lookin’ at the latest pictures of that delicious George Clooney, when Ginny hands me a letter.”

“Written by a middle-aged cherub with wings?” Cooper teased.

Angela smiled. “That’s right. Anyhow, I read it and leapt right out of my seat. I smacked my head on the dryer and it actually knocked a lick of sense into me. How could I have assumed the worst about my man? I never even gave him the chance to explain.”

“The important thing is that you’re back together and that you’re answering the office phones again.” Cooper pointed at the apparatus. “I don’t know how you do it, Angela. You’re sweetness and courtesy all day long, no matter how crazed or demanding our clients are.”

“I draw nasty pictures of the ones who are mean to me. Why do you think I burn through notebooks so fast?” Angela winked. “Now, I have a little gift for you for being such an amazing friend.”

Cooper gathered the day’s work orders. “I’m thrilled to see you and Mr. Farmer happy. That’s reward enough.”

“I knew you’d say something silly like that, but you can’t return this gift, so you’re going to have to accept it!” Angela grabbed Cooper’s hand and led her to Mr. Farmer’s office.

There, huddled in a shallow basket lined with a green gingham blanket, were two black-and-white kittens. Judging from the pink and blue rhinestone collars Angela had placed around their necks, Cooper concluded the tiny cats were brother and sister.

“You need company in that apartment of yours,” Angela whispered. “These guys are too young to go outside until spring, so all three of you can snuggle away the rest of the winter. Or, all four of you, if Nathan’s there, too.” She reached into the basket, removed the male kitten, and placed him in Cooper’s arms. “Or are you getting cozy with Edward these days?”

The kitten opened his yellow eyes, yawned, and began to knead her chest with his little claws. Cooper nuzzled her face against the fur of his chin and he immediately began to purr.

“Precious thing,” she murmured. “You smell like clothes fresh from the dryer.” Reluctantly, she placed the kitten back into its warm nest and gently stroked his sister’s head. The little cat wriggled in her sleep and the black line of her mouth curved into a contented grin, but she didn’t open her eyes. Cooper turned to Angela. “I can’t believe you got me kittens! That’s a pretty high-risk gift. What if I was allergic to cats?” she joked.

“
Please! Your grammy’s a reincarnation of Noah. You could never turn away a homeless animal.” Gloating, Angela crossed her arms. “And I knew you and these fur babies needed one another. Mr. Farmer will keep an eye on them today and we bought a carrier so you can bring the sweet things home, but I imagine you’ll be off to Food Lion during your lunch break. Good thing you got that raise and can support your new family. Take it from me—gourmet pet food’s more expensive per ounce than filet mignon.”

Cooper caressed the kittens again and then sat still for a moment, watching the rise and fall of their sides as they slumbered. “Thank you, Angela. This is such an unexpected and wonderful surprise.”

“Just like my Mr. Farmer,” Angela said dreamily.

Rolling her eyes, Cooper collected the work orders from the floor. “It’s a good thing the office is empty most of the day. You and Mr. Farmer can flirt right until the whistle blows.”

“Not for long!” Angela put her hands on her hips. “I’m getting an assistant. I can’t handle the phones, the incoming orders, the inventory, and the books, so I’m supposed to hire a part-time girl to do the stuff I don’t have time for.”

“Are you putting an ad in the paper?” Cooper asked.

“Yep. I wish I could write ‘cute girls need not apply!’ I’m not lettin’ any hot-blooded young things near my man. I plan to be Mrs. Farmer by this time next year—and I won’t be anythin’ like the
other
Mrs. Farmer!” With that, Angela sashayed down the hall to her desk.

Over the course of the morning, Cooper visited her favorite elementary school to perform a quarterly service on their leased copier, tweaked the drum of a finicky Hewlett-Packard at the Bank of America, and completed a roller replacement in a laser printer at a podiatrist’s office. She gulped down an Italian sub and an orange for lunch and spent a tidy pile of money buying food, litter supplies, and toys at Petco. After that, she dashed to Mr. Farmer’s office to pet her kittens before settling down in the small Make It Work! conference room to await Bobby Weller, the first of the day’s three interviews.

Cooper reread the questions on her legal pad and tried to still the butterflies in her belly. She’d never been on the hiring end of a job interview before and was surprised to find the reversal unnerving. After all, the two new hires would be working on her team, and her decisions would determine the overall success of her department. Cooper wanted to be worthy of the position and the praise Mr. Farmer had given her.

After reviewing Bobby Weller’s application once more, Cooper decided to peruse the
Times-Dispatch
until he arrived. As usual, the front page was all doom and gloom. The text decried a sinking stock market, a senator caught cheating on his spouse, and the emotional funeral service given for the young girl killed in the East End shooting the week before.

Cooper sighed and turned the page, hoping for a shred of uplifting news, when an article detailing the slaying of a Hispanic man named Hector Gutierrez caught her eye.

Could it be the Hector who made me my fake license?
she wondered anxiously. She read the sparse account of the twenty-one-year-old’s death. According to the reporter, Hector had been shot, execution-style, in the back of the head, and his body dumped at a construction site. The police were quoted as saying they were actively following several leads but had no additional information to share with the public at this point in their investigation.

Cooper was frustrated by the piece’s lack of detail. “It’s like Miguel’s death all over again.” She then heard Angela’s voice in the hall and got out of her seat in order to meet Bobby Weller at the door, but not before tearing the article from the paper.

Bobby was in his mid-forties and had grease-stained fingers, an honest face, and a generous paunch. As he shook Cooper’s hand, his eyes crinkled with humor and, after holding out her chair, proceeded to answer her questions with a relaxed and confident air. Having repaired televisions, computers, and most recently motorcycles, Bobby told Cooper that he was ready for a job with consistent hours and more growth potential.

“I’ve got six kids, so the benefits package you’re offering is mighty attractive, too.” Bobby produced photographs from his wallet and passed them across the table.

Cooper looked over the smiling faces of the Weller brood and then pointed at what appeared to be a prom photo of Bobby and a woman who could have doubled as his sister, so similar were their builds and round, smiling faces. “Is this your wife?” she asked him.

“Yep, that’s the missus. We were high school sweethearts. Went to the prom and never stopped dancing.”

Cooper returned the photographs, told Bobby she’d let him know her decision by the end of the week, and wished him a pleasant day. She made a few quick notes on his application and wondered if the rest of the applicants would be as personable and qualified as Mr. Weller. “This could be tougher than I thought.”

The next candidate was a man named Frankie Kepple. Cooper expected him to be waiting outside by the time Bobby left, but she had time to read the paper’s movie reviews and complete the crossword before Angela knocked on the door again. The man she invited into the room was not the tardy Frankie Kepple, but Edward Crosby.