The Path of the Crooked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 1) (17 page)

“Cooper found more scraps from Brooke’s copier,” Nathan announced as the worship music commenced. “We can see if any of the pieces fit after the service.”

“I would have brought them to you sooner,” Cooper hurriedly added, “but you didn’t answer your phone.”

“Business trip,” Quinton said with regret. “I’m sorry. I’d much rather have been working to find Brooke’s killer.”

“It was only a few days,” Trish told Quinton. “Let’s get pizza at Chianti and we’ll get right to work. I’ve been craving a hot pie with feta, red roasted tomatoes, and kalamata olives all week.”

The group agreed and made their way to the chapel. Savannah took Nathan’s arm and Cooper trailed along behind the rest of them. As they headed in the direction of the music, Quinton stepped into the men’s room. Pretending to have left something behind in their study classroom, Cooper loitered outside the bathroom until he emerged. She then held out the piece of paper bearing his song lyrics.

“I’ve been looking for the chance to give this back to you,” she said. “You dropped it during the service last week.”

Without looking at her, Quinton accepted the paper, folded it into a small square, and tucked it inside his suit jacket. “Did you read it?” he asked in a nervous whisper.

Cooper squeezed his arm and smiled encouragingly. “I thought it was lovely.”

Quinton’s face glowed. “I scribble lyrics all the time. They just pop into my head.” He sighed happily. “Someday, I’d love to get them set to music. Who knows, maybe even have one sung at church.”

They began to walk down the hall. “Well, I’d sure love to hear those words come to life,” Cooper said and then the two of them joined their friends for worship.

• • •

Nathan made sure that he pulled into Chianti’s parking lot right behind Cooper. As she opened her car door, he dashed around Sweet Pea and blocked her path to the restaurant.

“I just wanted to apologize for last night,” he said breathlessly. “It was incredibly rude of me to stay on the phone for so long. It was a client—one of those people you can’t interrupt because they talk without stopping for breath.” He paused and uttered a goofy chuckle. “Kind of like I’m doing right now. But I’m so sorry. I was having such a great time with you.”

Cooper stared, wondering why Nathan was lying to her. How could he call a woman from his Internet dating service a client? She looked at his pleasant face and his smiling eyes and marveled over his duplicity.

“And thanks for cleaning up,” he continued. “I’d really like to show you how sorry I am by taking you out to dinner. I’ll lock my cell phone in the car and you can name your favorite place. What do you say?” Before Cooper could reply, Quinton heaved himself out of his cream-colored Cadillac and joined them

“I stopped by CVS and picked up some glue. Do you mind if I see if those scraps of paper you found will fit our document before we eat?” His eyes glimmered expectantly. “It sounds silly, but I feel like I stand a good chance of making sense of that document since it’s about financial matters.”

Cooper handed over the plastic bag containing the minute shreds. “It’s all yours.”

“Terrific!” Quinton beamed. “Let’s go inside. I’m getting the Italian combo pie: mushrooms, pepperoni, sausage, pepper, and onions. That’ll make a person happy.”

Cooper’s belly growled in agreement and the three friends entered the eatery. Their group ordered four different pies, including the Mediterranean White that Trish had wanted and the Italian pie that Quinton had longed for, along with pitchers of sweet tea and soda.

“I finally have something worthy to contribute to our investigation,” Savannah announced once the waitress had distributed plastic tumblers filled with ice. Quinton was too busy gluing to bother looking up from his work.

“Do tell,” Trish prompted.

Savannah turned to Nathan. “When you called Friday night, you said that Brooke’s assistant claimed that Brooke and Wesley had fought a few days before she was killed, right?”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “Cindi said that the Hugheses had an argument on the phone, but she didn’t know what it was about. Cooper and I didn’t believe her, but we couldn’t think how to press her any further.”

“That’s just fine, because Brooke’s librarian friend, Deanna, knew all about their quarrel. The subject of the fight was Caleb, their son.”

Trish clucked her tongue. “Parents often argue about their children. Which school should they go to? Which friends should they have? Do they look good in yellow? All sorts of things.”

Savannah nodded and went on. “Caleb is a graduate student at Georgetown University. At least he was. He was in his second year of business school, but he’d been doing so poorly that he dropped out without telling his parents.”

“Oh, man!” Quinton exclaimed. “My folks would have killed me.”

“There’s more,” Savannah continued. “The reason behind his slipping grades was alcohol-related. Caleb finally came clean to his dad and Wesley checked him into a treatment center two days before Brooke was killed. He didn’t want to tell Brooke until after their anniversary celebration, but Caleb called Brooke at work and admitted everything.”

“Wesley was trying to protect Brooke from hurtful news, so why was she ticked off?” Bryant sounded indignant.

“Caleb is Brooke’s son too!” Trish countered. “No mother wants to be kept in the dark when it comes to her children. Keeping secrets is not the way parenting
or
marriages work.”

“Perfect timing!” Nathan declared as their pizzas arrived. When everyone was served, he glanced at his friends. “Guys, I hope we haven’t misjudged Wesley Hughes. I’m surprised to learn that he kept something so serious from his wife.”

“We haven’t misjudged him,” Savannah said soothingly. “Deanna said that Brooke and Wesley rarely fought and that they had already patched things up within hours of the argument over the phone. Wesley made a poor choice, but his motives were pure. According to Deanna, Brooke had forgiven Wesley by suppertime the same day.”

“Where does that leave us?” Jake demanded.

“I believe Cindi’s an integral part of our investigation.” Nathan looked at Cooper for approval. She nodded. “But since she’s already involved with a married man, trying to flirt information out of her isn’t going to work.”

“How about some female bonding?” Bryant suggested.

Trish examined her hands. “You’re onto something there, Mr. Weatherman. Did either of you happen to notice whether she was wearing nail polish?”

Nathan shrugged, but Cooper remembered the pink polish on Cindi’s nails. “Yes. Her nails were bubble-gum pink and perfectly even.”

“Women talk to other women at nail salons.” Trish clicked her own acrylic beauties together. “I’ve heard some pretty intimate details from complete strangers over a full set. If someone else can follow Cindi around for a few days to see which salon she goes to, then I can drop in when she’s getting a manicure and have a friendly chat. I’m sure I’ll think of a way to bring up Hazel’s name.”

“Seeing as I set my own schedule, I’ll tail Cindi,” Nathan said.

Jake helped himself to a second slice of grilled chicken pizza. “Wish I had my own schedule, but backed-up septic systems wait for no man.”

“I think you should come too,” Trish said to Cooper.

Cooper shook her head. “No, she’s seen me before.”

“Only in your uniform, right?” Trish argued. “And if you’re getting a pedicure, you can listen in on our talk and signal me if I’ve missed anything. She’ll never know you’re there.”

Cooper twirled a piece of mozzarella around her finger, thinking how ridiculous it was to have her toes polished and painted. She couldn’t think of a bigger waste of time or money and frankly, she didn’t relish the idea of someone touching her feet. Wearing work boots and heavy socks five days a week didn’t make for soft heels and toes.

“I don’t know . . .” she began, but didn’t get to finish her sentence.

“I’ve got it!” Quinton shot to a standing position. Then, just as quickly, he sat back down, expelling a loud breath. “Hazel’s last name is Wharton. Hazel Wharton. Lady, we found you at last!”

Bryant pushed back his chair. “I’ll ask our waitress for a phone book!”

The Sunrise members were on the edge of their seats as Bryant scanned the list of Whartons in the white pages. “Here she is!” he hollered in jubilation and whipped out his cell phone.

“What are you going to say to her?” Savannah asked, concerned.

Bryant waved her off, forgetting that she probably couldn’t see his dismissive gesture. A few seconds passed before he snapped his cell phone closed. “So much for solving the enigma known as Hazel Wharton.” He groaned. “We’ve reached another dead end. Hazel’s number has been disconnected.”

11

“I’ve been beside myself trying to figure out what your voice mail meant,” Ashley said late Monday afternoon.

Cooper had just returned from exercising Columbus and was surprised to see her younger sister pacing in front of the hawk’s cage, her spiky heels clicking on the blue flagstones. Uncrossing her arms over a silky fuchsia crewneck, Ashley whipped off a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses with oversized lenses and focused her cerulean gaze on her sister.

“Your message said that you had a mission for me. Well?” She flicked her glasses against her hip impatiently. “What is it?”

After settling Columbus back in his aviary, Cooper stripped off her father’s leather gloves and motioned for her sister to follow her to her apartment. “Come on up. I need to wash my hands.” As they walked, she eyed Ashley’s stylish ensemble. “You going someplace special?”

Ashley smiled. “Lincoln’s taking me to dinner, but he had to work late so he’s going to meet me at Little Venice, that darling little Italian restaurant we love.” She issued a smug sigh. “I relish our intimate dinners, but I’ll be at the gym all week if I order pasta and tiramisu.”

Following Cooper to the kitchen sink, Ashley scrutinized her sister’s face. “Have you been plucking your own brows?”

Cooper ran her fingers over her brows. “Yes, but how can you tell?”

“How can I tell?” Ashley threw her arms out in mock horror. “Because it looks like Daddy went after you with a miniature Weed Whacker.”

Examining her reflection in the toaster, Cooper frowned. “I guess they’re a bit uneven, but once I started plucking I just kept going.”

Ashley sank down at the kitchen table. “Leave your brows to the professionals, Coop. Even the best of us can’t do a perfect arch.”

Setting two glasses of fresh lemonade on the table, Cooper sat down opposite Ashley. “Speaking of appointments . . . are you planning on having your nails done this week?”

Ashley spread out her graceful fingers and examined the petal-pink polish on her rounded nails. “Probably on Thursday. I like them to look fresh for my tennis league practice on Friday.”

Even though Cooper considered the notion of having polished nails for a sporting event rather absurd, she nodded as though she understood completely.

“Would you be willing to go to a different nail salon for the sake of aiding our investigation?”

Ashley’s face grew animated. “Do you have a lead?”

After taking a sip of the tart lemonade, Cooper gave Ashley a summary of meeting Cindi, visiting Eliza, and the possible significance of Hazel Wharton, whose whereabouts were still unknown.

“Seems like you and Nathan are really bonding over this whole detective thing,” Ashley said. “Have things turned romantic yet?”

Cooper stirred her lemonade. “So far, we’ve had dinner. Just dinner. But let’s not get off subject. I need you to bump into Cindi and find out where and when she gets her nails done. Once we know that, Trish will try to finagle some info about Hazel from her.” Cooper hesitated. “I can tell you where she works and what her car looks like, so you might have to tail her and it may take a few days. After all, Cindi has two kids and might drive straight home from work to be with them.”

“No way,” Ashley argued. “If she’s got two kids, she needs to hit the grocery store several times a week. If not there, then a drugstore, toy store, or the library. Or heck, maybe even the liquor store. The working moms
I
know seem to be pretty stressed out these days. They all have a Superwoman complex.” Ashley shook her head in sympathy. “Don’t worry. I’ll find out which nail salon she uses. You can count on me.”

Relieved, Cooper poured her sister more lemonade. “Are you sure you’re not too busy?”

Ashley tossed a golden lock behind her shoulder. “I’m the chairwoman of three benefits, so yes, I’m busy, but I’ll trail Cindi in exchange for the answer to two simple questions.”

“Which are?” Cooper asked guardedly, handing her sister a piece of paper containing a map of Capital City’s campus, a physical description of Cindi, and a photo of an older Honda Civic.

Ashley accepted the paper and leaned forward, her diamond cross pendant clinking against the glass tumbler. “The first question is: Did Nathan kiss you at the end of your dinner date?”

“It wasn’t a date. And no, he didn’t even try to kiss me,” she fibbed, recalling the moment at Nathan’s house when he had pushed his plate aside and reached for her hand. If the phone hadn’t rung, it was possible that their clasping of hands might have led to a kiss. Nathan had certainly been looking at her as if he wanted to kiss her.

“Yoo-hoo!” Ashley waved her hands in front of Cooper’s face. “I guess I don’t need to ask my second question. The answer’s written all over your face.”

Scowling, Cooper removed the tumblers from the table and placed them in the sink. “What was your question?”

Ashley stood and tucked a banana-shaped purse under her arm. “Did you want to kiss him? Because I think you did,” she added complacently.

After touching up her frosty pink lipstick Ashley rose and opened the apartment door. “I’ll call as soon as I have the information,” she said in a raspy bass voice, and then giggled at her attempt to sound like a tough guy. “In the meantime, you need to get those fixed.” She pointed at Cooper’s brows. “If you and Nathan are going to start smooching, he’ll be
verrry
close to your pretty face.”