The Path of the Crooked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 1) (22 page)

“W-would you like popcorn instead?” the boy stammered. “On the house?”

“Fine.” The woman snatched a box of popcorn from his hand. As she passed Nathan and Cooper, they heard her mutter, “When am I ever going to catch a freaking break?”

After greeting the concession worker with the friendliest smile she could muster, Cooper bought two AstroPops and another Sprite. Unwrapping their popsicles, Cooper and Nathan sat down at the picnic table next to Vance just as he was saying, “I don’t have kids of my own. My wife died of cancer two years ago. She was the love of my life and I don’t plan on remarrying, so kids aren’t in my future. That’s why I like to get involved with fine groups like Little League.”

“The love of your life.” The reporter nodded dreamily and then leaned in toward Vance a fraction. “That’s really touching. After all, you’re one of Richmond’s most sought-after bachelors.”

Vance made a dismissive gesture. “I’m just a self-absorbed widower who plays golf every weekend, so I especially admire men like Reed Newcombe who take time from their busy schedules to help our community. Reed has four kids and heads our Capital City IT department, but here he is, and with a winning record so far too.”

Cooper stared at the executive. The name Reed Newcombe was familiar too, but from where? If he was the head of IT, did that also mean his vanity plate read HRD DRIV? Shaking her head in annoyance at not having any solid answers, she wiped at a sticky trail of red that had melted from her popsicle onto her hand, and resumed listening to the reporter.

“But it was your idea for Capital City to donate new lights, fencing, and electronic scoreboards for all twelve fields, right?” The reporter uncrossed and crossed her shapely legs as she consulted her notebook.

Vance never took his eyes from her face. “Only when Reed mentioned that the fields could do with some sprucing up. As executive vice president of Capital City, I get the pleasure of writing the check and making the speeches, but Reed’s done the real work here.”

The reporter made a show of consulting her notes, but Cooper believed that the journalist was stalling for time so that she could grill the eligible bachelor a little longer. “You and Mr. Newcombe were fraternity brothers at UNC, correct?”

“That’s right.” Again, Vance’s mouth smiled, but his eyes remained flat. “He was a whiz with computers back then too. Oh, Reed’s wife, Lynda, is waving at me. I should go and say hello. If you have any further questions, please contact my office.” He placed a business card in front of the reporter and issued a small nod before she had time to realize that the interview was over.

The reporter stared after him with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Let’s get plenty of photographs of Mr. Maynard and his coworker,” she told her disinterested cameraman.

Nathan and Cooper followed Vance Maynard at a careful distance as he moved to embrace Lynda Newcombe. They were both surprised to see that the woman who returned his hug with a pleasant smile was the short-tempered owner of the shaggy poodle. Lynda then led Vance to where her husband stood, talking to his team as they took a break for the seventh-inning stretch. Reed’s small frame, thinning hair, and dark goatee struck a chord in Cooper’s brain.

“The newspaper article in Brooke’s office!” she whispered, snapping her fingers as the memory became clear.

“What did you say?” Nathan gave her a curious look.

Cooper pressed her fingers to her lips. “Tell you later.” Reed and Vance shook hands and then Reed escorted his old friend to the pitcher’s mound and handed him a microphone. Vance waited patiently for the cameraman to arrange his equipment and then cleared his throat and began his speech. As the crowd of onlookers tittered in anticipation, Cooper and Nathan crept to the side of the dugout. The second Reed returned from the infield, Lynda appeared at his side and hissed, “What is your new secretary doing here?” Nonplussed, Reed took a deep drink of water from a paper cup. “I don’t know, Lynda. She probably came to see the dedication. She loves her job.”

“Loves her job, huh?” Lynda’s stare was so fierce that Cooper could practically feel its heat from where she stood. “And I guess all those meetings you’ve had after work and on weekends have nothing to do with your secretary
loving her job,
right?”

“Lynda,” Reed began, his tone exasperated. “Can we do this some other time, like after the game? And in private?”

“Why don’t I just ask her right now if she’s having an affair with my husband?” Lynda threatened. “I know who she is. She’s sitting with that Realtor with the bad hair and the annoying little dog
.
And your new secretary won’t even look at me. I find that odd, since I met her just last week at your office. Why do you think she might be uncomfortable looking at me, Reed?” In the infield, Vance was winding up his announcement.

“Please, Lynda.” Reed’s voice softened. “Don’t make a fool of yourself. There’s nothing between Cindi and me.”

“Cindi?” Lynda seemed momentarily taken aback. “Last time you hung up the phone when I came in the room I could have sworn you said Hazel.”

“I’m sure I did!” Reed retorted heatedly. “She’s a client. Or
was
a client. You don’t have to worry about
her
name coming up in my conversations anymore,
dear.
”

Lynda’s eyes narrowed. “I’m watching you like a hawk, Reed Newcombe. We have four kids and sixteen years together. You’d better think about that, because if there
is
another woman, I’m going to find out. And, Reed?” She jabbed at his chest with her finger. “If we get divorced, I will fight for your very last cent so that our kids and I can live the kind of life we deserve. I will wring you dry. Keep that in mind next time you have an
emergency meeting.”
She turned away from her husband.

Cooper and Nathan beat a hasty retreat to the bleachers.

“What’s going on?” Bryant asked eagerly. “Anything interesting?”

“Yes, indeed!” Nathan answered. “Apparently the Little League assistant coach for Capital City is also the head of their IT department. He has four kids, an angry and suspicious wife, and is sleeping with Cindi, his new secretary.” Nathan turned to Cooper. “Would you like to tell them the most interesting tidbit of all?”

“Please do!” Quinton rubbed his hands together in excitement.

“Reed knows Hazel,” Cooper replied. “In fact, I think he’s the one who
dealt
with her when Hazel got on Cindi’s nerves.”

Quinton rubbed his doughy chin, his eyes worried. “So you’re saying that that man”—he pointed toward the field, where Reed had his arm around one of his players—“is capable of a serious act of violence?”

“We know he’s capable of betraying his wife and the mother of his children,” Bryant said quickly and then looked at Cooper. “Do you think that Reed might have . . . gotten rid of Hazel? Didn’t Cindi tell Trish over their manicure that Hazel had been trying to reach Brooke over a problem with her credit card statement?”

“Yes!” Cooper remembered. “And Cindi tried to get rid of her by having her call her
boyfriend
at the IT department. Reed is the head of IT. Maybe Hazel knew about their affair.” She glanced to where Cindi had been sitting, but the single mother and her two kids were gone.

Bryant furrowed his brow. “In other words, she might have complained to Brooke or tried to hold Reed’s affair over his head to try to get her issues with Capital City straightened out?”

“Maybe. Reed may have felt threatened by Hazel and
Brooke. He might have decided to silence
both
women!” Cooper said angrily. “Let’s head over to where Trish and Savannah are sitting. We need to know what he’s done.”

“Am I missing something?” Nathan asked as the four of them descended from the bleachers. The announcer called out the final game score and the Capital City bench cheered. “Why do you suspect Reed?”

“Because if his bad-boy behavior became public, he might lose his job, his wife, and his position in the community. Who knows what lengths he’d go to in order to protect those things?” Cooper glanced across the field at the other bleachers. The game was over and the players had just finished shaking hands with one another. Several of the boys picked up equipment from the dugouts, but the rest quickly gathered around their parents.

Lynda Newcombe embraced a young boy wearing a black Capital City jersey, handed him the poodle’s leash, and then whistled to gain the attention of three other children hanging out near the concession stand. As all four kids raced toward the parking lot, Reed approached his wife. She barked something at him and then turned away to follow their children.

Looking angry, Reed marched back toward the field, where he paused to whisper a few words in Vance Maynard’s ear. Cooper and her friends weren’t close enough to hear what was being said, but they could see the deep scowl on Vance’s tanned face. However, the intense frown was immediately replaced by Vance’s practiced smile and he whispered something briefly in return, clapped his friend on the back, and then headed for his Porsche.

“Cindi must have gone home,” Quinton said. “No sign of her or her kids.”

“She’s here all right.” Bryant snorted. “She just dragged Reed behind that big oak tree. See?”

Sure enough, Cindi’s white blouse glowed in the spring darkness as she stood with Reed in a copse of trees lining the parking lot. Her two kids loitered nearby, kicking at pebbles. As the Bible study members watched, Reed shouted something at Cindi and her face crumpled. She called back to him, pleading with her eyes and outstretched arms, but Reed turned and walked off. Cindi put her face in her hands and her shoulders shook.

“Oh, goodness, did we just witness a breakup?” Trish said, leading Savannah over to where the group stood.

Jake joined them, a bat bag slung over his shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Cooper thinks Reed Newcombe, the assistant coach for the Capital City team, may be the villain we’ve been looking for,” Quinton said.

Several of her friends spoke at once, begging Cooper to explain her reasoning. Cooper turned to Nathan. “Do you remember when you called that shipping store? The place where the threatening faxes were sent from?”

Nathan nodded. “The man and wife working there didn’t know what the customer looked like, so they weren’t much help.”

“But Jessica remembered that the man who sent the faxes had yellow dog hairs on his sleeve,” Cooper persisted.

Trish understood what Cooper was implying. “The Newcombes’ dog! It’s a goldendoodle! A cross between a golden retriever and a standard poodle. That’s why it has that unique kind of fur. Curly, red-blonde, and apparently untrimmed. Goldendoodles aren’t exactly a common breed.”

“Cockapoo. Goldendoodle. What happened to beagles and boxers?” Jake demanded. “I’ve never heard of these wacko dog breeds.”

Savannah looked thoughtful. “Based on the dog fur on his jacket sleeve, we have reason to suspect that Reed sent the ‘Forget about Hazel’ faxes.”

“If he can cheat on his wife and send a pile of nasty letters to Brooke, there’s no telling what that S.O.B. is capable of,” Jake snarled.

Savannah touched Jake’s arm. “I hate to pass judgment on Reed, but I think we should share our suspicions with the police. This man could be dangerous.”

“I agree,” Nathan said. “The authorities need to poke around in Reed’s life and find enough evidence to get him thrown in jail.”

“Well, I hope they find something on him and that Wesley is set free, don’t you, Donald?” Trish accepted a barrage of kisses from her tiny dog. “But I have my doubts about Reed being caught. That man strikes me as being rather shifty. I think he’s learned how to hide his wickedness.”

Savannah made a fist and said, “Then we’ll have to drag it into the light.”

14

After the game, Cooper went right to bed, but her sleep was far from sound. Images of angry faces, including Lynda’s, Cindi’s, and Reed’s, flashed through her mind throughout the night. It was as though she was looking at them through the rapid, fractured light of a strobe light.

In her dream, the Little League crowd watched Vance Maynard walk to the pitcher’s mound to make his announcement during the seventh inning, but instead of donating lights and scoreboards, his mouth opened into an inhuman yawn and released a deep-throated snarl. He bared his fangs and curled his lip like a threatened wolf while the Newcombes’ goldendoodle and Trish’s cockapoo commenced a chorus of frenzied barking.

At ten past six, Cooper jerked awake and lay unmoving beneath the shadows that fell on her ceiling from the poplar tree outside her window. She heard a dog whining, and the crazed barking from her dream returned to her. After checking to make sure that the complaining canine in the yard below was Grammy’s three-legged stray and not Vance Maynard in werewolf form, Cooper shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee.

Just as she was opening the fridge to remove a carton of half-and-half, the phone rang. Cooper blinked at it for a moment, still spooked by her strange dream.
Who would be calling at this hour?

“Hello?” she croaked.

“Cooper,” Nathan whispered. “I’m sorry to call so early, but do you have the morning news on?”

“No. Why?” Cooper asked, still groggy. “Am I missing something?”

“Tune to channel six.” He waited for her to turn on her set. “I always put on local news while my coffee’s brewing,” Nathan rambled on. “This morning, one of the anchors mentioned Reed Newcombe’s name and something about a body in the James River. The full story is coming up next.”

Cooper sank down on her couch. “A body? Does that mean—?”

“Shh!” Nathan commanded. “This is it.”

“A Richmond man was allegedly pushed from the Willey Bridge overpass late last night.” A photograph of Reed Newcombe appeared in the graphic box to the upper right of an anchorwoman with solemn blue eyes and a helmet of brunette hair.

“The man has been identified as Reed Newcombe, a department head at Capital City. Newcombe’s wife, Lynda, told a CBS 6 reporter that her husband often worked late so she was not concerned when he did not follow the family home after the Little League game they attended a few hours before the incident.