The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (2 page)

“Glad you noticed,” Cooper replied ruefully. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s our three-month anniversary. Me and Carla’s. I need to think of something cool to do. Should I take her out to dinner? Buy her something? How much is it going to cost to show her I’m better than all her ex-boyfriends? Do I have to get her some ice?”

“As in diamonds?” Cooper asked after a moment’s puzzlement. When Emilio nodded glumly, she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Unless you’re preparing to propose?”

Emilio paled.
“No!
I like this girl, but I am not
ready to wear the old ball and chain. No way, no how.”

Grinning, Cooper moved over to the sink and began to scrub her hands. It was too easy to push Emilio’s buttons. Still, her coworker had earnestly sought her help, so the least she could do was take him seriously. “You don’t need to buy her anything. You could take Carla somewhere special. What does she like to do?”

“Same as me. Watch ESPN and reality shows on TV. Go out for big slabs of steak and cold beers. And when we want to get our groove on, we go clubbing.”

“You could make her a mixed CD of her favorite dance songs,” Cooper suggested.

He frowned and handed Cooper twice the number of paper towels she needed to dry off her hands. “No dice. I did that for our two-month anniversary.
What about your man? Your church boy?” Emilio raised his brows. “What’s he given you that made you go weak in the knees?”

 “Nathan bought me a bicycle for Christmas. It’s the old-fashioned kind, with lots of chrome, a straw basket, and a big rubber horn. I love it.” She smiled, remembering how Nathan had covered her eyes while he led her into his garage, where he’d hidden her shiny blue bike beneath a bedsheet. He’d whipped off the sheet in a dramatic flourish, revealing the bicycle and the curled red ribbons hanging from the handlebars. She had thrown her arms around him in delight, kissing him fervently.

“Now for your gift,” she’d whispered a few minutes later.

He’d pulled her close once again. “I don’t need anything else but you.”

Eventually, Cooper had led him through his kitchen and out the back door. Standing in the small garden area behind Nathan’s row house, she’d waited for his reaction upon seeing his gift. For the past month, she’d been busy in her father’s garage making a birdhouse in the shape of a TIE fighter, the spaceship Darth Vader piloted in
Star Wars,
Nathan’s favorite movie.

“Did you make this?” Nathan had been utterly delighted by the workmanship. When Cooper nodded, he told her that it was the best gift he’d ever received.

“I can thank you more properly inside,” he whispered, kissing her lightly just below her earlobe. And then the doorbell rang. Nathan’s sister had stopped by with her boyfriend, and what was supposed to be a romantic evening for Nathan and Cooper quickly became an intense Monopoly competition between the two couples.

“Carla won’t be bowled over by a bike,” Emilio grumbled, bringing Cooper back to the present.

“Why are you so worried about this gift, Emilio?” Cooper asked as they left the employee locker room and headed for the break room.

Emilio released a heavy sigh. “She’s been hanging out with the other mailmen more than usual. What if she’s thinking about ditching me for one of them?”

 “Buying Carla something for your anniversary isn’t going to make everything better,” Cooper said. “You need to talk to her—find out how she’s feeling about your relationship.”

“Who do I look like?” Emilio spluttered indignantly. “That Dr. Phil clown? Ever since I told her how crazy I was about her she’s been less into me. I’m not going to do that again. Maybe I’ll make her jealous—make her realize how good she’s got it. Tons of chicks would thank their lucky stars to be with me.” He squared his shoulders and touched a lock of gelled hair.

Cooper pushed open the door to the break room. “That’s
not
a good plan, Emilio.”

“Pfahh! What do you know, anyhow? I heard you and your man haven’t even gone all the way.” He sat down in front of a foot-long sandwich and slung his arm around Angela, Make It Work!’s office manager. “Tell her what she’s missing, gorgeous. I’m sure you know how nice it is to have someone keeping you warm in the winter.”

“I like it downright toasty.” Angela handed Cooper an Italian hero from Subway and winked. “That’s right, I’ve got the fire department on standby, just in case things get too hot.”

As Angela and Emilio unwrapped their subs and bantered companionably, Cooper ate her lunch in a state of mute irritation.

Nathan and I aren’t any less of a couple because we’re showing restraint. I’m so sick of people assuming that we’re not in love because we haven’t slept together. I’ll show them,
she vowed.
Actually, we’ll show them! Nathan and me.

And with that, she took a big, satisfying bite of her sandwich.

• • •

“Why are you wearin’ pajamas to the table? You sick?” Grammy scrutinized Cooper from top to bottom. “Because if you are, you need to turn around and go back to your apartment. I’m goin’ to the P. Buckley Moss Museum tomorrow and I want to do some real damage at Golden Corral’s breakfast buffet beforehand.”

“I feel fine, Grammy.” Cooper squeezed her grandmother’s shoulders affectionately. “I’m going to a party with Ashley tonight and I’m supposed to dress like this.”

“You’re a little old for sleepover parties, ain’t you?” She cackled.

Cooper’s mother entered the kitchen and peeked into the oven. “Leave her be, Mama. She looks adorable.”

 “You look cozy,” Earl said to Cooper as he took his seat at the head of the table. “I saw your latest birdhouse in the garage. What are you doing with that one?”

“Donating it to Hope Street’s winter bazaar. The church is raising money for a youth mission trip to Mexico,” Cooper replied.

“Can they send your daddy and me to Mexico?” Maggie laughed. “Seems like we haven’t been out of the state of Virginia since man walked on the moon.”

“Don’t stick around on
my
account,” Grammy said. “I know my way around the coffeepot and the can opener. What else does a woman my age need?”

Maggie smiled indulgently at Grammy. “We all know how independent you are, dear. It’s more about our empty piggy bank than us fretting over you. After all, Cooper would look after everything if we went away, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Cooper nodded—her mouth full of scalloped potatoes. She glanced at her father, who looked especially tired. As the head groundskeeper for one of Richmond’s private schools, he performed physical labor that men half his age would find fatiguing. And her mother baked gourmet cookies for a dozen sandwich shops in the West End of Richmond, waking up at four in the morning in order to produce three varieties of her famous Magnolia’s Marvels.

They’ve worked all their lives,
Cooper thought.
They really deserve a special vacation.

“He can retire in three years,” Maggie had told Cooper one Saturday as she’d packed plastic baggies of fresh-baked cookies. “But we’ve put aside every spare penny in case Grammy needs special medical care. We’re not going to let her rot away in some nursing home. She’s going to leave this earth with dignity—from her own bed—if it costs us the roof over our heads.”

Fortunately, Grammy was still perfectly healthy and spry. Sharp-tongued and witty, the matriarch of the Lee clan spent her time caring for stray animals, hovering in the kitchen in hopes of receiving rejects from Maggie’s cookie production, watching reality shows, and nagging her granddaughters about her desire to become a great-grandmother before meeting her Maker.

Cooper looked at her grandmother, who was shoveling pot roast into her mouth as though it were her last meal, and then flicked her gaze to her mother, who was assessing her husband from the corner of her eye. Cooper was about to suggest to her father that he might want to see a doctor when she heard the blast of Ashley’s horn.

“Ain’t she even gonna come in and say hello to her family?” Grammy frowned at Maggie. “You raised her better than that!”

Cooper noticed that her younger sister had been avoiding Grammy lately. Ashley wasn’t trying to be rude, but she already put so much pressure on herself over becoming pregnant that she couldn’t bear to hear anyone else raise the subject. Unfortunately, Grammy brought up the topic whenever she had the chance.

“We’re probably running late,” Cooper said hastily, covering for her sister. On impulse, she kissed her grandmother on the cheek and was warmed by the approval in her father’s smile. “Maybe I can start selling birdhouses, Daddy. Send you two on a vacation.”

“And go for days without seeing your pretty face? I’d rather be here at home.” Earl stacked his fork with butter beans. “Better get a move on. If your sister lays on that horn again, Grammy might run out there and give her what for.”

“Run?” Grammy laughed. She loved to be teased by her son. “You know I only pick up my pace when they’re handin’ out samples of chocolate at Costco.”

Cooper put on a long wool coat, buttoned it up to the neck, and exited the toasty house. Stepping into the dark night, she hunched her shoulders against the brisk winter wind and trotted over to Ashley’s Lexus. As soon as she opened the door, she was assaulted by the heady floral scent of her sister’s perfume. Ashley was dressed in a knee-length fur coat and brown leather boots with sharp heels.

“Is this real?” Cooper asked and placed a hesitant hand on her sister’s coat. “No wonder you didn’t want Grammy to see you! She would’ve had your head on a platter.”

“It’s faux sable, though it costs almost as much as the real thing. Isn’t that ridiculous? I should get a discount for being humane. And you know why I didn’t come inside.” Ashley accelerated on the empty road leading through the rural county where Cooper and the rest of the Lees lived. Watching the stark trees pass outside her window, Cooper suddenly longed to be back in her tiny apartment, laid out on her sofa beneath a thick afghan while Masterpiece Theater treated her to a Jane Austen remake.

“I know what you’re thinking over there,” Ashley said as if she were truly clairvoyant. “You’re already figuring on not having fun. Just because these women are married with kids does
not
mean they’re boring. And even though they have plenty of money in their wallets, they’re not necessarily shallow. So don’t feel intimidated by how they look.”

“How dressed up can they be? We’re all wearing pajamas, right?”

Ashley was too busy maneuvering the on-ramp to the interstate to answer right away. “What did you say?” she asked after merging directly into the center lane. “Who’s in pajamas?”

Cooper unbuttoned her coat to reveal her pink flannel top. “I am! Aren’t you?”

At first, Ashley looked horrified and then she began to laugh. The sound of her laughter overshadowed the music coming from the car’s speakers. “Oh, Coop!” she squealed. “You’ve already made this a night to remember! The girls are going to
love
you.”

Suddenly, Cooper reached over and yanked up the hem of her sister’s coat, revealing a white skirt embroidered with black flowers. “I totally misunderstood.” She gulped. “Turn around, Ashley. I need to change.”

“Not a chance. We’re late as it is and Georgia was adamant about people getting there before the show starts.”

Visualizing Chippendale dancers, a fog machine, and strobe lights, Cooper groaned, but when they entered Georgia Ferguson’s Spanish villa–style mansion fifteen minutes later, she was not surrounded by half-naked men, but by boisterous and cheerful women holding champagne glasses. To Cooper’s relief, they were dressed quite casually in pressed khakis and cotton blouses or simple skirts and sweater sets. Their jewelry, shoes, and handbags were expensive and elegant, yet understated, and they welcomed Cooper warmly. Twice, Georgia offered to take her coat, which Cooper refused to unbutton.

“My sister’s embarrassed because she thought she was supposed to
wear
pajamas tonight,” Ashley explained, pulling apart Cooper’s coat in order to allow her friend a glimpse of her sister’s ensemble.

“I think that’s a fabulous idea!” a woman wearing tight jeans and a lime-green turtleneck exclaimed. “I wish you had thought of that, Georgia. We could all be as comfy as this pretty lady is. Aren’t you clever!” She beamed at Cooper.

Another woman sidled up. “What
is
the evening’s entertainment, Georgia? You’ve been so mysterious about it.”

“You’re about to find out,” Georgia said with a wink.

Suddenly, music began to pump through the speakers in the spacious living room. Cooper recognized Lady Gaga’s latest dance song and tagged along behind a handful of women as they made their way to a row of folding chairs. A young woman dressed in black pants and a black blouse snapped her fingers in time to the music as she ushered stragglers to their seats.

Georgia stood in front of the chairs and grinned. “Thank you for coming to my first Pajama Party! As married women, we sometimes need to shake things up a bit, especially if you’ve known your other half as long as I’ve known mine. The way I see it? It’s our duty as wives to please our husbands and for our husbands to please us
.
So, in the name of marital bliss, I invite you to bring a little sizzle and a whole lot of
ooh-la-la
home to your hubby tonight. All purchases are private and will be conducted on a discreet, one-to-one basis in my kitchen. This is Lola.” Georgia gestured at the woman in black. “She’s given all of you order forms and pens. You’ll find them under your seats. Simply check off the items you’d like to buy as they are modeled for you. Now, is everyone armed with bubbly? Good, because this is not the time to be timid!”

A glass of champagne was shoved into Cooper’s hand. She took a grateful sip and, finally letting go of her coat, draped it over the back of her chair. The lights dimmed, the music was turned up a notch higher, and three voluptuous girls in their early twenties strutted into the room, wearing fishnet stockings and sexy silk nighties.

“Oh, my! I like the peach one!” A woman slid on a pair of reading glasses and uncapped her pen. “Would you look at that? They come in plus sizes, too. How nice! I can order one for my sister-in-law.”