The Path of the Crooked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 1) (16 page)

On Sunday, Cooper woke unusually early. The spring sunshine had launched an invasion through the cleft in her curtains, prompting her to make the most of the day, so she slipped on a pair of jeans and a Richmond Squirrels sweatshirt and fixed herself some scrambled eggs and toast. After breakfast, she wandered into her parents’ house to see if she could borrow some half-and-half for her second cup of coffee. In the kitchen, her father was contentedly dumping the contents of a Wal-Mart bag onto the counter. He rubbed his hands together and grinned like a little boy.

“Look what I got.” He held up a box illustrating a mole covering its ears as it fled from a large spike emanating pulses. “Two batteries is all we need. We whack this gadget into the ground and it’ll cover a whole acre. Scares the moles and the voles by thumpin’ day and night.” He handed the box to Cooper. “We can put them in this afternoon. What do you think, my girl?”

“Looks cool, Daddy.” Cooper smiled as her father began to fit batteries into one of the stakes. “You’re firing the first shot of the season, I see.”

Earl snorted. “Heck, yes, I am. A man needs an advantage over the vermin in his own backyard.”

“You should just move Columbus’s cage next to the garden,” Grammy advised, shuffling sleepily into the kitchen. “No critter in its right mind would venture into the vegetable patch with a hawk nearby.”

“But it would be teasin’ the poor bird,” Earl said. “He’d see all those rodents creepin’ by and wouldn’t be able to get out of his cage to catch them. No”—he brandished a pair of aluminum pie plates—“we’ll make do, same as every year. Those folks at the food bank will get their greens from Lee Farm despite the bugs, moles, voles, deer, and rabbits.”

“Forget about the rabbits.” Grammy turned her keen gaze on Cooper. “You got back a bit late last night, Granddaughter. You have a nice time with that new man of yours?”

“It was just dinner.” Cooper quickly hid her flushed face inside the fridge and grabbed the carton of half-and-half. “I’d better get dressed for church. See you all later.”

She scurried up to her apartment and spent several minutes going through the contents of her closet. After rejecting a dozen outfits, she chose a pair of khakis and a lightweight mocha-colored blouse and turned on the shower. The water was almost unbearably hot by the time she stepped into the stall, but Cooper leaned back into the heat, wishing that it had the power to erase the memory of her dinner with Nathan. The evening had gone from being amusing and comfortable to awkward and disconcerting.

At first, everything was perfect. They’d escorted Savannah into her house and then Cooper had washed lettuce and prepared a salad while Nathan decanted a bottle of Italian red wine. Giving the wine time to breathe, he set his kitchen table with striped napkins, white dishes, and a copper candleholder. Next, he placed a single unused taper in the holder and then rummaged through the kitchen drawers in search of matches.

“As you can see, I’m not used to lighting candles,” he’d said, laughing. “I hope I’m not losing too many points as a host. Can you tell I’m a bachelor or what?”

Cooper had given Nathan an encouraging smile, removed the candle from the table, and turned on the front burner of Nathan’s gas stove. She stuck the wick in the blue-and-orange circle of flame and then handed Nathan the lit candle. He beamed at her like she’d produced fire from a magic wand.

“Okay, I feel a bit stupid now,” he’d said and poured wine into glass goblets. “Maybe I’ll seem smarter after you’ve had some wine.”

The wine and candlelight had lent the kitchen an unexpected aura of intimacy and Cooper had wondered if Nathan’s flirtatious demeanor might morph into something more. However, once he’d served the food and they’d settled down to eat, the conversation flowed easily. They reviewed their visit with Eliza Weeks and speculated further on Jed’s disappearance.

“We sure have had an unusual start,” Nathan had said and offered Cooper another helping of pasta. She’d passed on the food but gladly accepted another glass of wine, feeling warmed by the meal, the libation, and the company.

“Start?” she’d prompted, watching him try to capture a slippery piece of noodle with his fork.

Nathan had cleared his throat. “Most people become friends because they have something in common. You know, like a job or a hobby or they went to school together.” He took a gulp of wine. “But you and I—our friendship has sprung from our attempt to exonerate Wesley Hughes. It’s kind of a unique bonding experience, wouldn’t you say?”

Nodding, Cooper had smiled and, made a bit reckless by the wine, said, “I’m really glad I ran into you in the hall at the high school. If I had gotten the right time for the worship service, we might never have met.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Nathan had raised his glass. “Here’s to being led by a greater power.”

They’d clinked glasses and stared at one another above the flickering candlelight. Suddenly, something had shifted in Nathan’s brown eyes and his gaze had grown more intense. Cooper had felt her entire body grow warm and again experienced a prick of guilt. She tried to push thoughts of Drew away. For once, she didn’t want her memories of him to invade the present.

“This is nice,” Nathan had whispered and pushed his plate to the side. Just as he’d made a move to reach for Cooper’s hand, the ringing of the kitchen phone had shattered the moment as effectively as someone throwing a rock through the window.

Cooper had exhaled loudly. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.

Nathan glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, standing. “Because I host websites on my server, I sometimes get client calls at odd times. A server might be down.” He examined the caller ID box beside the phone and cast an apologetic look at Cooper. “I have to take this call. Excuse me.”

Picking up the phone, Nathan spoke a quick greeting and then asked the caller to hold as he moved to his office. Cooper had drained the rest of her wine, feeling a strange mixture of disappointment and relief that Nathan’s attempt to initiate physical contact had been interrupted.

I like Nathan Dexter,
she’d admitted to herself as Nathan left the room.

Unsure of what to do next, Cooper had carried their dinner plates to the sink and, as quietly as possible, began to rinse and load them into the dishwasher. When that task was complete and Nathan’s office door still remained closed, she washed their wineglasses, wiped off the countertops, and put the leftover food in the fridge. All that remained on the table were the linens and the burning candle, which had cast a lonely reflection in the bay window.

Suddenly tired, Cooper had taken a surreptitious glance at the caller ID box to find that the call had come from RichmondMatchmaker.com. Cooper imagined Nathan holed up in his office, chatting with a potential date while his dinner guest cleaned up his kitchen and felt a surge of anger.

How dare Nathan try to seduce her and five minutes later field a phone call from a prospective girlfriend? Annoyed and hurt, Cooper had blown out the candle, scribbled a brief note thanking Nathan for dinner, and left.

“My mama raised
me
right,” Cooper had snarled under her breath as she shut his front door and stepped out into the night.

• • •

Now here she was the following morning on the brink of being late to Bible study because she’d spent far too long in the shower. Forgoing any attempts to re-create the way her hair had looked after being cut and styled at the beauty salon, Cooper shrugged into her clothes, got into the Jeep, and sped to church.

Cooper was the last one to arrive for Bible study. All of the Sunrise members had eaten their “second breakfasts” and were settled in their places, ready to begin the lesson. Nathan immediately tried to catch Cooper’s eye and held out his hand to indicate that she should sit next to him, but she pretended not to notice and sat beside Jake. As she opened her workbook, she remembered too late that she had been using the song written by Quinton as a placeholder.

“Whatcha got there?” Jake leaned over and tried to read the lyrics.

Cooper slammed her book closed, her neck reddening. “It’s not mine,” she blurted.

“I’ve used that line a time or two in my life.” Jake chuckled and opened a piece of Fruit Chill–flavored Nicorette gum. “Man, this is definitely going to spoil the taste of your banana muffins, Quinton,” he said and popped the gum in his mouth.

Relieved that Jake hadn’t been more inquisitive about the song lyrics, Cooper said, “I have my worst cravings right after supper. That’s when I used to sit out on my steps and smoke while I watched the stars come out. Now I just stuff cookies down my throat.”

Jake guffawed. “I hear ya, lady. I’m getting fatter and meaner every day. Least that’s what my coworkers tell me.” He grew thoughtful. “Still, I can climb stairs up folks’ houses now without struggling for breath, so I’ll take that as a good sign.”

“The way you’re striving to improve yourself has given me that perfect segue for our study today.” Savannah cleared her throat and the members grew silent. “Our workbook lesson discusses how Paul asks us to have humility, gentleness, patience, love, and acceptance of one another.”

“That last one’s the tough one,” Jake muttered.

Savannah smiled. “You’re so right, Jake. After all, we’re not talking about loving and accepting people you already like and admire. Paul is most likely referring to the folks that drive you crazy! The people that you’d rather shake by the shoulders than pull into an embrace. Does anyone have a person they could try harder to love and accept?” She waved a warning finger. “No names, please.”

“One of my former bosses made it clear that he didn’t think I had what it took to become a top Realtor,” Trish said, her lacquered lips turning down at the corners. “He said that prime listings were meant for men and I’d be better off selling the ‘modest’ homes. He tried to make me concentrate on rentals, which provided almost no commission, and handed all the top listings to a guy nicknamed Slick Mick.”

“But you showed him.” Bryant nudged Trish’s arm. “You have a successful realty business of your own now.”

“Yes, I’m a success,” Trish replied with uncharacteristic softness. “But when I see this man at conferences or trade shows, I still feel like I have something to prove. I still feel insignificant around him. The idea of loving and accepting him would be a serious challenge.”

“At least you showed him what you’re made of, and you can bet he noticed,” Jake said. “The person I have a hard time feeling love for is my pop. He left when I was four and we haven’t heard a peep from him since. I’ve never had a chance for him to be proud of me for a single thing. I don’t even remember him.”

Savannah reached out to grab hold of Jake’s trembling hand. “That must have been hard.”

Jake’s eyes grew glassy, but he blinked back the tears. “But he’s still my father. I might forgive him, if he gave me the chance.”

Savannah shared how it was challenging to accept one of her sons-in-law. “He says nasty things about my work—whispers them into my daughter’s ear while I’m in the room—as if I were deaf, not blind.” She took a sip of coffee. “I just hope he doesn’t belittle her work.”

“That strikes a chord with me,” Nathan said quickly. “I get a bad vibe about this guy my sister’s dating. He seems to drink too much and I’ve heard him yelling at her in the background while we’re talking on the phone.”

“Are you concerned about abuse?” Quinton asked.

Nathan shrugged. “I think my sister would tell me if things had turned violent, but she’s just such a great kid and deserves much, much better than this jerk. I’m struggling with loving the man she says she loves. In fact, I wish they’d break up.”

“At least you’ve got issues with someone from the present,” Quinton grumbled. “I’m still trying to get over all the kids who made fun of me for being fat.” He tented his fingers and sighed. “I try to imagine meeting one of those kids now that we’re grown-ups. I visualize us becoming friends—just starting fresh as if the past didn’t matter.”

Savannah nodded. “Your attitude is admirable, Quinton. Anyone else?”

Bryant twiddled his silver pen back and forth in his right hand. “There’s a nurse at my mama’s rest home that I do not like one bit. She treats the residents like they’re bothering her and should just spend their day in front of the TV.” He put down the pen. “But listening to you guys made me realize something. This woman may have her own story of hurt or loss. Maybe someone wronged her and that pain is making her meaner than she wants to be. What if I did something nice for her? Brought her flowers? Wrote her a note about how much I appreciated her caring for my mother? Maybe all she needs is for someone to express some kindness.” He thumped his desk enthusiastically. “I’m going to give it a shot!”

The members murmured their approval. Cooper was impressed by Bryant’s insight and was once again ashamed for judging him by how he appeared on television—vain and vapid.

Smoothing a lock of gelled hair, Bryant turned to face her. “What about you?”

Cooper was ready to tell her friends about her unusual looks. “I spent a long time letting go of a grudge against the girl who caused my accident.” She touched the lid of her green eye and fingered the curved pink scar beneath her brow. “It happened during our field hockey practice. She was showing off for this boy she wanted to impress, so when she hit me, it was because she wasn’t paying attention.” Cooper looked back at Bryant. “It wasn’t until I was in my twenties, after I got used to how I looked, that I started thinking that the young woman whose eye I was given . . . She was in a much more serious accident than me.” She dropped her gaze to her workbook and watched the black words blur. “She died,” she whispered. “And any time I’ve stared at myself in the mirror and not liked what I saw, I remember the gift that stranger gave me. It took a while, but eventually I knew that I couldn’t be angry at the girl who hit me. It would be a lousy way of showing my gratitude for having not lost my sight.”

Quinton took a bite of a glazed cruller and stared at Cooper. “Well, I think you probably see more clearly now that you almost lost your vision. Look how well Savannah sees without her eyes.” He sighed. “I wish I had more insight. I’ve been reading Brooke’s document over and over again, looking for more clues, and keep coming up dry.”