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

The models did a brief twirl and then handed some of the ladies in the audience packets of panties to examine.

“Edible underwear!” One of the partygoers giggled. “Chocolate, strawberries and cream, vanilla caramel, and mocha. Charlie loves coffee. Should I try one?”

“Go for it, Dolores!” another woman coaxed her. “You heard what Georgia said. It’s our duty!” Both women laughed raucously.

The models returned wearing lacy bras and matching briefs. The women around Cooper muttered in approval over the ample coverage provided by the boy-cut briefs. “I thought this would be all about thongs and strapless bras. I could actually wear that outfit and not look too fat,” declared a woman Cooper believed was surely a size zero.

Pens scribbled on order pads. Cooper glanced shyly at the models and gulped her champagne, accepting a second glass from a tray that seemed to magically appear by her elbow just as she finished her first drink. The models were busily handing out black and red boxes labeled
Dirty Girl, Lover Girl,
and
Naughty Girl
. Each box contained a minuscule pair of panties, breath mints, a toothbrush, a condom, flavored body oil, a perfume sample, and two energy pills. The
Lover Girl
box also included a red feather and the
Naughty Girl
package came with a silk blindfold.

Cooper handed the boxes to her sister. “Are you getting any of these things?” she asked her while trying to get a clear view of the order pad on her lap.

Ashley shook her head. “I’m not feeling inspired yet, are you?”

“Inspired? I am totally weirded out.” Cooper guzzled more champagne. “I don’t need edible underwear,” she whispered.

Ashley scowled. “We’re here for
me,
remember? You don’t have to buy anything.” She examined the
Dirty Girl
box and passed it to the next woman.

Wire baskets filled with massage oils and scented candles found their way to Cooper’s row along with a serving tray loaded with truffles, bite-sized raspberry mousse cups, and strawberries dipped in white chocolate.

Amid all this excitement, the models came into the room for their encore wearing flowing nightgowns trimmed in lace. The cream-colored silk combined with the tight, brocade bodices produced an ethereal effect. Cooper was sorely tempted to make a mark on her order sheet, but something held her back.

“That’s
what I want!” Ashley was thrilled. “Something beautiful, captivating, utterly romantic. With white candles, that nightgown and robe, and maybe a gardenia in my hair . . .” She made hasty marks on her paper.

“Where are you going to get a gardenia in the middle of winter?” Cooper inquired.

Ashley smiled. “I know an excellent florist. I’ll look like a spring bride. Fresh and lovely. He won’t be able to resist me.” She reached over and squeezed Cooper’s hand. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. It turned out to be a success. Cheers!”

Tapping the rim of her glass against Ashley’s, Cooper realized that she couldn’t recall whether she’d consumed three drinks or four. Her cheeks felt warm and the upbeat music and high-pitched laughter of the women seemed pleasantly boisterous.

Still, Cooper was glad that Ashley was more interested in placing her order and getting home than mingling with her friends. By the time the models had taken their bows and clothed themselves in jeans and sweatshirts, Ashley had already paid for her purchases and said her good-byes.

“Everyone was glad you came,” she said to Cooper once they were back in the Lexus. “They all think you’re really pretty. Georgia told me that her little brother’s single and quite a catch—but I told her you were perfectly happy.”

“Thanks,” Cooper replied, her words slurring slightly. “I am happy.”

Kneeling beside her bed a half hour later, Cooper folded her hands together and prayed that her sister’s marriage worries would come to a quick and decisive end. “And if Lincoln’s avoiding her, please guide him back home,” she added. “Before he wanders too far.”

2

Cooper was excited about starting a new Bible study with her friends from Hope Street Church. Except for Nathan, she hadn’t seen any of them since the Christmas Eve candlelight service because everyone had left town to visit family. Savannah Knapp, the legally blind folk artist who led their small group, had stayed away even longer in order to teach a painting workshop at an artists’ colony, so they’d been unable to commence with a fresh study until she returned.

Feelings of pleasant anticipation coursed through Cooper when she finally received a phone call from Quinton Enderly, an investment banker and amateur pastry chef, announcing that it was his turn to choose the next study. He’d picked
Directing Our Passion: Corinthians I and II.

“Sounds steamy,” Cooper had teased him after he’d recited the title.

“I’ve been praying for a wife for over ten years now,” Quinton had replied. “But I realized that there are other relationships I need to straighten out before I can have a lifelong one with a woman. This study just spoke to me.”

“Trust me, Quinton. We could all use help in the relationship department. Besides, you’re a real catch. Some lady is going to celebrate the day she met you,” Cooper told her kindhearted friend and then sped off to LifeWay to buy the study guide.

She loved opening an unblemished, stiff workbook, uncapping her favorite purple pen, and rustling the pages of her Bible as she prepared to complete the first homework lesson.

“Sounds like the wings of a dove, doesn’t it?” her mother had once said while flipping through her own Bible.

Cooper had felt a bit lost during the break the Bible study group had taken. She’d gone to church, but her focus had wandered during each service, her eyes roaming the congregation in search of the faces of her friends. Now, on the third Sunday in January, it was time to reunite. The first to arrive in the Hope Street Christian Academy’s biology classroom, Cooper set out a basket of her mother’s meringue pecan bars, brewed a pot of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, and placed a stack of snowman napkins alongside a plate of red seedless grapes.

“Now
this
is an interesting room,” meteorologist Bryant Shelton declared as he entered, flicking a solar system model suspended from the ceiling into orbit. “I’m glad we got booted from the English classroom. I was getting tired of being stared at by those Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf posters.” He sidled up to the life-sized skeleton and slung an arm around its bony shoulders. “Sorry to keep you waiting for our dinner date, sweet cheeks. Why, you’ve practically wasted away!” He laughed, displaying his famous television smile. Twin dimples appeared in his tanned cheeks as he released the skeleton and walked over to embrace Cooper. “I’ve missed our meetings.”

Cooper smiled at him, knowing that dozens of women longed to be the recipient of Bryant’s attention and would have gladly locked her in the classroom’s supply closet if it meant the gorgeous weatherman would hug them instead. Cooper cared for Bryant, but only as a friend. The two of them understood what it meant to suffer the effects of a failed relationship. Bryant was a divorcé three times over, and Cooper’s only serious boyfriend had left her for another woman.

“I smell cookies!” Jake Lombardi bellowed as he stepped into the classroom. “Yours or your mama’s?” He stripped off a pair of worn leather gloves, dumped his aged barn jacket onto one of the student desks, and began to remove tissue-wrapped coffee mugs from a grocery bag.

“Magnolia’s Marvels,” Cooper said proudly.

“Lucky us.” Bryant pointed at the coffee mugs. “What are those, Jake?”

Jake grinned. “I wanted to get something for our first meeting of the year. I might be a plumber, but I have good taste. Check these out.” He handed Cooper a mug. It showed a rising sun and the words: “Coffee Hour: The Third Sacrament.”

“We’re the Sunrise Bible Study Group and we love our coffee,” Bryant said. “I think these were made for us.”

“Did you come bearing gifts, Jake?” a mellifluous voice asked from the doorway. Savannah held a white cane in one hand and several books in the other. Quinton was guiding her by the elbow with Trish Tyler, the ambitious Realtor and mother of two, following closely behind. Nathan brought up the rear.

“These are really cute, Jake,” Trish said, picking up one of the mugs. “Even if they’re a tad sarcastic.”

“Get your caffeine on and be grateful, lady.” Jake smiled at her. “After all, I could’ve picked the ones that said ‘God Only Loves You ’Cause He Has To’!”

Nathan chuckled. “Oh, man, that is
so
mean!”

The members exchanged small talk about their various trips and then settled down to begin day one of their study.

“The first book of Corinthians addresses the people of Corinth. Imagine that!” Savannah took a bite of one of the meringue pecan cookies and sighed in delight. “This Greek city was a bustling and wealthy port,” she continued. “All kinds of exotic goods came in and out of this city and its people were as mixed as its goods. There was plenty of entertainment to be found, including athletic competitions like the Olympics. According to my audio guide, there was also a tavern on every street comer.”

“Sounds like Americans and our Starbucks,” Bryant remarked.

“Does this setting remind you of another biblical place?” Savannah asked.

“Babylon,” Nathan said. “Both cities have the lure of glamour, wealth, and greed.”

Savannah nodded. “We live in a modern Babylon, so we face similar temptations every day. I don’t know about you all, but I give in to these trappings on a regular basis.” She held up her cane. “I can’t even
see
and I have a house loaded with stuff!” She laughed. “I admit to enjoying many material things. You probably didn’t know that I listen to QVC even though I can’t see the products clearly—only fuzzy colors. But I like how the hosts describe everything. It’s a seductive show.”

“My problem is a type of greed.” Quinton spoke next. “I want more food than I need. I overindulge. I can’t seem to get a grip on my cravings.”

Jake patted the large man on the back. “I hear ya, man. Over the holidays I slipped and had a smoke. And then a second one. Now those cigarettes are calling to me night and day.”

“Boy, I know that feeling,” Cooper sympathized with Jake. “Even though I quit months ago, anytime I get stressed the thought of taking a few drags is tempting. Hang in there.” Glancing at her own workbook page, Cooper recalled that she’d written that her weekly pedicures were an unnecessary luxury, but that she had no intention of giving them up.

Savannah raised the next discussion point. “In verse nineteen of chapter one, Paul quotes from Isaiah. How do you respond to the phrases ‘destroy the wisdom of the wise’ and ‘the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate’?” Savannah looked around the circle of faces, as though she could see everyone’s features through her nearly sightless, navy blue eyes. Cooper noticed that she’d loosened her braid, allowing her dark hair to spill over her shoulders. The light from the windows caught a few strands of silver framing Savannah’s unlined face. Once again, Cooper was struck by Savannah’s loveliness.

 “I don’t think Paul is trying to compliment smart people,” Trish said and then paused to rub her glossy ruby-tinted lips with her pinkie.

 “I’ve definitely acted dumb when I thought I was being clever,” Cooper told her friends while trying to block out images of the Pajama Party. “When I started fixing office machines, I thought I was some kind of female da Vinci. One of my first jobs was to repair a printer in the nurse’s office of a nearby grade school. I tried everything, but I couldn’t get it to work. Then this seven-year-old boy comes in and tells me that it’s not plugged in. Sure, there was a nest of cords and wires under the nurse’s desk, but I never even checked the most basic step because I
wanted
to solve a complicated problem.” She shrugged. “Guess I needed a dose of humility.”

“‘Arrogant’ is not a word that I’d associate with you.” Nathan winked at her. “And you’re awesome at problem-solving. Do I have to point out that you’ve helped solve two murder cases?”

“Well, arrogant
is
a word people might use to describe me,” Bryant said with a self-effacing grin. “Once, when I was working at a station at the beach, I showed up too late for work to review the latest weather data before I went on the air at six a.m. Because of that, I failed to warn commuters that they’d be dealing with a serious fog. There were dozens of accidents that day and lots of people called the station to complain about my crappy forecast. My boss reamed me out with a hurricane-force lecture.”

“At least you didn’t punch a hole in somebody’s septic tank.” Jake screwed up his face in disgust. “On Fourth of July. During a family reunion. Do you know what sewage smells like in the middle of a ninety-nine-degree day?”

Quinton squirmed in his chair. “Ew! No more details, Jake, please. You’ll put me off my cookies. Did I ever tell you guys about the time—?”

“Enough!”
Trish shouted and the Bible study members jumped in their seats.
“I
win the blue ribbon for being stupid! Hands down, no contest, game over. I win.” She hit the desktop with a closed fist, her crimson fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm. “I always thought I was the type of person who couldn’t get sick. People who smoked or drank or never exercised got sick. Not
me.
I eat balanced meals, work out four times a week, and only drink a glass of Chablis when the mood strikes me. But I’m sick, all right. Look at this.” She raked her fingers through her copper-colored hair and then showed her friends the red clump resting on her palm.

“What’s happening?” Savannah asked in concern, unable to see Trish’s unsettling movements.

“She’s losing her hair,” Cooper whispered, her eyes never leaving Trish’s tormented face.

“I’ll be lucky if that’s all I lose,” Trish muttered hoarsely and then her mouth began to quiver. “Do you remember that biopsy I had back in the fall? The one that came out benign?”