The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (32 page)

Cooper thought about her introverted boss being complimented by the effusive Angela. He was a man of few words and usually hid in his office, drooling over the latest issues of
Technology Review
,
Popular Mechanics
, and
PC Magazine.
Cooper couldn’t fathom why Angela found their short, balding, hermitlike employer so captivating. It was like having a crush on Danny DeVito.

“See you in a bit, Angela.” Cooper saluted the other woman with her coffee cup and headed out to the van.

A Mrs. Brooke Hughes of Capital City, one of the nation’s largest credit card companies, had placed the call regarding the lost wedding ring. Cooper could tell that Mrs. Hughes was either an administrative assistant or an investigative agent in the Fraud Protection Division by the fact that the copier in question was located on the third floor in Building C. The Fraud Protection Division took up most of that floor, with the exception of a large filing room Cooper had never had cause to enter.

The second the elevator doors opened on the third floor, Mrs. Hughes leapt forward and latched on to Cooper’s arm like a barnacle.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” she exclaimed. Looking down, she realized she held Cooper with a viselike grip and that the younger woman was politely struggling to reclaim her limb. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Exhaling loudly, she released Cooper and then raised her hands, which were coated with black toner. “I’ve really made a mess of things, I’m afraid.”

Cooper could see that the woman had also smeared toner on her ivory blouse and berry-colored skirt. Mrs. Hughes, though agitated, had an open face and kind eyes. “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Cooper assured the woman and then introduced herself. “We’ll get your ring back. Which machine is it stuck in?”

“Oh, please call me Brooke. The copier’s right outside my office.”

Although she wore a name tag, Cooper thought it only polite to speak her name aloud since her client had established a friendly rapport, despite her distress.

It turned out that Brooke Hughes was the head of the entire department. She had her own assistant and a full-sized six-thousand-dollar Sharp grayscale copier at her disposal. The chair at the assistant’s desk was empty and her workstation was covered with mounds of wadded tissues and untidy stacks of paper.

“Cindi, my assistant, called out sick today. Again.” Brooke’s eyebrows shot up and down suggestively. “I’ve been trying to wrap up this case I’ve been working on and I just needed to pull together a few more documents.” She gestured at Cindi’s desk. “I was attempting to make sense of that mess when I came across a document that was
very, very
incriminating . . . ” She trailed off, looking abashed. “I’m sorry to go on about all this to you.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s just that it was crucial for me to make multiple copies of this, ah, report so I could quickly store it in more than one location as soon as possible.” Brooke nervously picked at her cuticles and continued speaking in a hushed tone. “I’m concerned that the original document could suddenly
disappear.
”
Her voice returned to normal as she continued. “But then the copier jammed and I was so desperate to make copies that I tried to fix it. When I reached under that panel”—she pointed inside the machine and Cooper noticed that Brooke’s finger was trembling—“and tried to rip out the paper, my ring slipped off my finger and fell down in there.”

“Were you able to make any copies?” Cooper asked, concerned about the woman’s apparent anxiety.

Brooke shook her head and made a visible effort to pull herself together.

Wordlessly, Cooper rolled the copier away from the wall and scanned the carpet. She couldn’t see the ring anywhere, so she knew that meant she’d have to unscrew the machine’s back panel. After retrieving a flashlight from her toolbox, she gestured at the Sharp. “Has this copier been acting up lately?”

“Yes, I believe it has. Cindi’s cursed quite loudly at it a few times. I also think she’s given it a few solid kicks.” Brooke winced as though she hated snitching on her assistant. “I’m afraid she’s not very good at following directions. Mine or a machine’s. But she’s a single mom and I just don’t have the heart to let her go.” She laughed humorlessly. “I swear I do both our jobs most of the time.”

Unused to being watched as she worked, Cooper began loosening the screws that secured the back panel to the main body of the copier.

“Unlike poor Cindi,” Brooke rambled on, “I’ve been blessed. My husband is my best friend. We were high school sweethearts, raised a terrific son together, and are celebrating our thirty-year anniversary tonight. That’s why I’m so desperate to get my ring back today.”

Cooper glanced up at Brooke’s face. She was gazing out a window beyond Cindi’s desk, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Wesley, my husband, is picking me up after work today in a white limo. We’re going out to dinner at this little hole-in-the-wall where we had our first date. He doesn’t know that I know, but he also reserved the bridal suite at the Jefferson.” She shook her head dreamily. “We couldn’t afford anything like that when we got married, so I guess he’s trying to make it up to me, but I wouldn’t trade our first years of struggle for anything.” She grinned at Cooper. “Are you married?”

“No, ma’am,” Cooper said without taking her eyes from her work. “My boyfriend of over five years left me six months ago. Really suddenly,” she added and then instantly clammed up. People didn’t usually speak to her once they had directed her to the machine in need of repair, so she was surprised to find herself sharing such an intimate exchange.

“I’m really sorry.” Brooke spoke with heartfelt sincerity. “Five years is a long time. Many marriages don’t survive that long, so you two must have been doing something right.”

“I thought so.” Cooper sighed. “And I’d do anything to have my life with him back. For those five years, he was my only friend, my whole world. I’m living with my parents again and just trying to figure out how to start again.”

Brooke put a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “You’re young and pretty and I can tell you must be awfully smart to be able to do what you do. Once time heals your wounds a bit, you’re going to find that men will line up around the block just to ask you out.”

“You think so?” Cooper looked over her shoulder and grinned ruefully. “Where’s the front of that line?”

Brooke smiled. “If you can laugh about your pain, you’re on the road to getting the best of it. And I know a place that might help you in the whole recovery process. Hold on a sec.” She pulled open a desk drawer, retrieved a marigold-colored brochure, and handed it to Cooper.

“This is the church I belong to. I would love for you to attend a service with me. Come as my friend. Any Sunday you’d like. Just walk on in and find me and we’ll sit together.”

Cooper stared at the yellow brochure. It was from Hope Street Church and simply had the church name, address, and the words
Welcome, Friends
on the cover. Brooke’s invitation was filled with warmth and hospitality, but the idea of attending an unfamiliar church wasn’t something Cooper felt comfortable doing. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Please do. And no more of this
ma’am
stuff. We’re just two women trying to make our way in the world. Brooke and Cooper.” She pointed at the brochure. “Take a look at that when you get a chance and feel free to call me if you have any questions. Now”—Brooke tugged on the bottom of her stained blouse—“
I
will stop blithering away like a chatty magpie and let you work your magic. I’ll be in my office, so please let me know if you need an extra pair of hands—to hold the flashlight or something.”

“Thanks, but I’m like an octopus when I’m working.” Cooper smiled and watched the other woman walk away. She then folded the Hope Street brochure in half, tucked it in her pocket, and returned her focus to removing the bottom paper drawer so that she could get a better view of the copier’s underbelly. After she detached the tray, she directed the powerful beam of her Maglite into the cavity and swept the light around the base. A twinkle in one of the far corners signaled the presence of Brooke’s ring.

Plucking the ring from the dark, Cooper cleaned it off using a fresh rag from her toolbox. A dozen tiny diamonds embedded in a band of yellow gold glistened as Cooper wiped away spots of toner and dust. As she rubbed the inside of the ring, she noticed an inscription. It read
Forever, I Corinthians 13:13.

Cooper knew that I Corinthians 13:13 was often used in wedding ceremonies. Sitting on the floor of the quiet office, she called to mind the cover of her younger sister, Ashley’s, wedding program. It showed the bride and groom as children inside a heart-shaped cutout. Above the photograph were two doves flying toward each other and the words
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Folding the ring carefully inside another clean rag, Cooper set the precious package next to her toolbox and began the process of removing the jammed sheets of paper. She made a pile of torn strips of paper along with an anthill of bits and scraps that had likely collected inside the copier over the last few weeks. It only took her a few minutes to restore the machine to working order. She checked under the lid to see if Brooke’s original document was still laid out on the glass. It was, so Cooper programmed the machine to make five duplicates in order to test the copier. It ran them through without a hitch.

Cooper didn’t even glance at the pages that were so critical to Brooke Hughes. She’d never examined the contents of a single document in her four years as a repairwoman and didn’t plan to start now. Clearing her throat, she stood in the threshold of Brooke’s office and unfolded the rag containing the wedding ring.

“Here’s your ring, ma’am—um, Brooke. No harm done.”

Brooke plucked the ring from the rag, pushed it on her finger, and threw her arms around Cooper. “You’re an angel! I can’t tell you how much this means to me!”

Though surprised by the woman’s quickness, Cooper still managed to press the documents against her thigh so they wouldn’t get crushed by Brooke’s embrace.

“Your copier’s back in order too,” Cooper continued once Brooke had released her. “I made five copies just to test the machine, but you’re good to go if you’d like to run some more.”

Brooke accepted the papers. The joy that had shone from her eyes upon seeing her wedding ring was instantaneously replaced by a mixture of worry and fear. “Thank you,” she said softly.

The phone on her desk began to ring, and Brooke glanced in its direction. Once again, she began to pick nervously at her fingernails.

“I’d better get that.” Her tone was regretful.

Cooper was accustomed to abrupt dismissals by busy and important people, or at least people who viewed themselves as busy and important, so Brooke’s desire to linger was unusual.

“Have a nice day, ma’am,” Cooper said politely. She wished she could think of something more comforting to add but nothing came to mind.

Brooke gave Cooper a bright smile infused with warmth and then wiggled her ring finger. “I hope that one day a good man gives you a ring and a promise and makes you very, very happy. Maybe I’ll see you at church some Sunday. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

It took a moment for Cooper to move, as a vision of Drew bending down on one knee and offering her a velvet jewelry box had her so captivated that she almost forgot where she was. Finally, she blinked and Drew’s handsome face and pleading eyes evaporated.

“Most folks don’t talk to me when I’m working,” Cooper found herself telling Brooke. “I kind of walk around as if I’m invisible. So it was really nice to have met you today. Thanks.”

“No
one’s invisible,” Brooke replied firmly and smiled again. She then picked up her phone and her smile disappeared in a flash.

Sensing that Brooke needed privacy, Cooper returned to the copier and packed up her tools. Because the only trash receptacle in sight was the overflowing Rubbermaid can under Cindi’s desk, Cooper gathered the paper scraps she’d removed from inside the copier, folded them up in her rag, and headed out to the van. As she walked, she considered how her regular interactions with office workers were brief and impersonal. In general, she preferred it that way. Yet for the first time, she had met someone who had spoken to her openly, as an equal, and it had felt really good. And though part of Cooper felt touched by Brooke Hughes’s attention, the other part of her wished that she could have remained anonymous. That way, she could drive off into the sunshine without fretting over the welfare of someone she barely knew.

After making her way to another area of Capital City’s mammoth campus to deliver the Hewlett-Packard 7410s, Cooper parked the van near the delivery entrance of Building F and turned off the engine. She felt like enjoying a cigarette beneath one of the lot’s large dogwood trees but then remembered that she had smoked her last one that morning.

Cooper got out of the van and leaned against the tree trunk. She propped her leg against the smooth bark, enjoying the sun on her face as she opened a Ziploc bag containing two of her mother’s homemade cookies. She felt an inexplicable urge to say a quick prayer before returning to work. She hadn’t prayed for someone else for a long, long time. In fact, she couldn’t remember praying much at all until Drew had left her, but now she said a nightly prayer asking that she be reunited with him soon.

Maybe I should focus on somebody else for once,
she thought, closing her eyes.

“Lord,” she began hesitantly and then felt words flow more easily from her mouth. “I hope that Brooke’s husband is all that she says he is. I hope he rides up in his white limo and sweeps that nice woman away in a tide of happiness so powerful that whatever is troubling her will be completely washed away. Amen.”

Not bad,
Cooper thought and felt the tension she’d felt in Brooke’s office ebb away. Chewing on one of her mother’s chocolate pinwheel cookies, she got back to work.