The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (19 page)

“They were both Hispanic men of about the same age who met violent ends.” Cooper shook her head at the insignificant summary. “Do you know where Maria’s son worked?”

“No. The only thing I know is that Maria and Hector were from Mexico. Just like Miguel,” Ashley said. “Now the police have two
unsolved cases. But it’s almost worse this time because Hector has a family—someone will definitely mourn him and want answers about this senseless killing!” Ashley’s despair turned to anger and back again. “Poor Maria! What can I do to comfort her? What words can I offer to a near stranger whose only child has been murdered?”

Cooper could hear the sounds of Nathan and her family continuing their dinner, their laughter mingled with the clinking of silverware. Ashley’s subtle weeping seemed incongruent with the companionable murmurs emanating from the next room.

“You’ll do what women do during times like this,” she said, keeping her voice steady for her sister’s sake. “You’ll bring Maria food and flowers, you’ll sit with her and look at photographs of her son, and you’ll pray for her. And I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten about Miguel. Edward and I are going in search of answers this weekend. We’re on the right track with this China White stuff. I can feel it.”

“Will you come to Maria’s house with me on Saturday?” Ashley asked.

“I can’t. The Sunrise members and I have committed to sprucing up a school in the East End.” She paused. “Bring Lincoln. Comfort Maria together.”

Her sister sighed. “All right. Can you put Mama on now? I want her to teach me how to cook her famous beef stew so I can bring Maria something I’ve made with my own hands.”

“Sure. And Ashley? I won’t give up. I promise. Miguel. Hector. I won’t let their deaths go unexplained. They will not be lost in some police station file cabinet.”

Ashley whispered, “I believe you, but I want you to be really careful. This killer places no value on human life. Miguel and Hector were murdered and tossed away like bags of trash.” Promise me you’ll be smart. Promise me you’ll stay out of danger.”

Thinking about her recent conversation with Rich Johnson, Cooper said, “Don’t worry, Edward and I won’t be alone. Someone will be watching from the shadows.”

12

Saturday was Valentine’s Day. Maggie had risen early to make heart-shaped Linzer cookies, hazelnut meringue sweetheart cookies, and squares of raspberry truffle fudge. Her special treats had to be delivered to half a dozen sandwich shops by mid-morning, so the house had been replete with the scents of cookies baking since dawn on Friday.

Cooper joined her mother a few minutes after seven and spent an hour packaging the confections. When she entered the kitchen, she knew her mother had already been up for three or four hours and would need a break. Her kindness was rewarded with a tired but grateful smile from her mother and an entire tray of raspberry truffle fudge.

“Take this to your Bible study friends. Y’all will get mighty hungry fixin’ up that school.” She slipped an arm around Cooper’s waist and gave her a quick hug. “Do you and Nathan have special plans for tonight?”

After breathing in her mother’s familiar perfume of warm dough and cinnamon, Cooper returned to the task of applying the gold foil Magnolia’s Marvels label to each cookie bag. “We decided to celebrate tomorrow. The restaurants are so crowded tonight and I can’t take the price inflation . . .”

“In other words, you two didn’t make plans in time!” Maggie laughed.

Cooper’s laughter mingled with her mother’s. “In a nutshell!” After a brief pause, she said, “Nathan and I kind of had a falling-out. This space started growing between us. Neither of us saw it coming, but we drifted away from each other and toward people who weren’t a good fit. The great news is that we worked things out, but not in time to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

“I wouldn’t let all those commercials for rings and roses and candlelight get you down,” her mother said as she carefully filled a cardboard tray with Linzer cookies. “Your daddy and I’ve been married longer than most of those fancy restaurants have been in business, and we’re not goin’ out for a six-course meal. We’ll do what we do every year.”

“Watch
Roman Holiday
and drink homemade apple wine,” Cooper said.

“It’s a fine date!” Maggie waved a wooden spoon at her daughter. “My point is this: Make your own tradition with your man. You don’t need to spend a pile of money or get stuffed into some teeny tiny table at a five-star bistro to prove that you’re sweethearts.”

Cooper kissed her mother on the cheek. “That’s good advice, Mama,” she said, wondering what Maggie would think if she knew that her daughter would be spending a romantic evening at a strip club. “I’m going to carry a few of these boxes to your car and then I’m off. Will you check on the kittens today?”

Maggie clicked her tongue. “Those two are mighty spoiled! You’re worse than your grammy.” She hesitated for a moment and then peered into the pantry. “Bein’ that it’s a
special
day, I’ll give those little darlings a nice tuna-fish lunch. Your daddy had a hankering for tuna but he’ll have to settle for grilled cheese and bacon.”

Noting that her mother was lost in culinary-related thoughts, Cooper filled a thermos with coffee, put on her coat and hat, and carried two loaded trays out to Maggie’s gold minivan. The sky was heavy with low gray clouds and Cooper wondered if the warning Bryant gave during his Friday evening forecast about a Valentine’s Day ice storm would come to pass.

“Just hold off until we fix up this school,” Cooper told the ominous clouds. During the forty-minute drive to the East End, she noticed a lightening above the horizon—the odd, pinkish glow that typically preceded snow. All the weather reports on the radio sounded dire.

“Better plan on snuggling with your Valentine at home today,” one of the disc jockeys warned.

 “This storm is going to be nasty,” another promised, sounding rather gleeful. “The western part of the state is already experiencing power outages by the thousands. Have extra blankets and battery-operated lanterns ready, and remember to use caution when burning candles.”

The charcoal-gray sky had lightened to a silvery pewter by the time Cooper’s truck bumped across the elementary school’s pothole-marred lot. She alighted and sniffed the air, which was tinged with a heavy dampness. Already, the outside world seemed to have fallen silent, as if the city was holding its breath.

Jake, Savannah, Bryant, and Nathan were inside the school, making plans to bring Savannah’s vision of painting vibrant murals to life. They decided to start with the main corridor, which was currently a shade of industrial beige. Several other volunteers and school employees listened to Savannah’s proposal, and the principal, a tall African-American man with round glasses, nodded his head in enthusiastic agreement.

“Imagine stepping into a garden scene every day.” Savannah swept her arms around the hallway. “These students deserve bright colors and beautiful images—not just another coat of monotone paint. Let’s stimulate their senses as soon as they walk through the front door!”

“I’d love to see the long wall in the library painted with storybook characters, too,” a small, elderly lady said. “Quite a few of our fifth-grade students will be joining us this morning. I’d like to let them loose on that wall if we have enough supplies.”

At that moment, Quinton arrived with Gloria May on one arm and a gallon of paint on the other. “Don’t worry about supplies! My company agreed to sponsor our labors here today. My car is so full that Gloria had to bring our snacks in hers.” He turned to the woman on his arm with an adoring smile. “No one will go hungry while we work, because Gloria and I baked late into the night.”

As Quinton received thankful handshakes and thumps on the back from the grateful schoolteachers and staff for the supplies, Gloria quickly introduced herself to the other members of the Sunrise Bible Study.

“Someone’s missing, right?” she asked, looking around for Trish.

Bryant waited until his friends were gathered close together before he whispered, “Trish is feeling terrible
.
She’s been getting chemo treatments for a month,” he explained to Gloria. “She has good days and not-so-good days. This last round has made her awfully sick. I only talked to her for a minute, but it scared me. I’ve never heard her sound so weak.”

Cooper squeezed Bryant’s hand. “We’ll check on her later today, after she’s had a chance to rest. Maybe we can bring her some food before the storm arrives. That way, her family can focus on taking care of her without worrying about dinner.”

The friends nodded in agreement.

“No more frowns!” Jake clapped his hands. “If we’re going to accomplish anything before we get covered by a layer of ice, we’d better get cracking!” He distributed brushes and rollers to Gloria and the Sunrise members. “We’ll make Savannah’s garden come to life, and after that we’ll paint pictures of healthy food in the cafeteria.” He lowered his voice. “Just as long as I don’t have to paint the broccoli. I sure hate that stuff! Used to hide it in my cowboy boots during supper. I always wore my boots when Mama made beets or broccoli.”

Savannah chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jake. You can make a smiling carrot instead.”

Looking visibly relieved, Jake followed Nathan, Bryant, and Quinton outside to collect more supplies.

“This is quite a palette you’ve brought.” Nathan gestured at four gallons of paint, each a different shade of blue. “These walls won’t know what hit them.”

For the next three hours, the Sunrise members transformed the entrance hall into a verdant paradise. Sunflowers, poppies, tulips, lilies, and daisies lifted their faces toward a glorious sunrise in the middle of an azure sky. Cotton-candy clouds floated behind dozens of soaring birds and butterflies.

Nathan placed the final dot on a ladybug’s wing just as Cooper painted a curling antenna on a grinning inchworm. Quinton and Gloria’s hands met as they completed the violet stripe of their rainbow arch. As one, the friends stood back to admire their handiwork.

“Would you look at this?” Gloria made a sweeping gesture down the hall. “I am convinced the Almighty Creator guided our brushes this morning.”

Cooper had to agree. Except for Savannah, none of them were known for possessing drawing or painting talents, yet the mural they’d created together sparkled with life.

“Imagine what we can do to the cafeteria next!” Cooper exclaimed.

“Nothing yet.” Jake dumped his brush into an open can of corn-yellow paint. “I need to refill the well before we paint a bunch of food.”

Quinton rubbed his round belly. “I second that motion. How does beef stew sound? One of the women’s groups from Hope Street provided us with Crock-Pots full of stew and trays of homemade corn bread.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t have to drive anywhere for lunch. Look.” Bryant pointed toward the double doors leading outside. The ice storm had arrived.

Gloria and the Bible study friends walked to the entranceway and watched as pellets of ice struck the cement walkways and ricocheted off the asphalt parking lot. Above the barren trees, the sky was tinged a strange gray-pink.

“Looks a bit like birthday cake icing,” Quinton murmured and took Gloria’s hand. “I think you picked the perfect cupcake design for today.”

Intrigued by this comment, the Sunrise members followed Quinton down the hall with the expectant gait of first-grade students being led to recess. Once they’d congregated around the cafeteria table, Quinton eased back the lid of a bakery box and waited for the cries of surprise and delight.

“Wow!” Jake shouted and leaned toward Savannah so that he could describe what he’d seen. “Gloria made penguin cupcakes. The wings are chocolate cookies, the snow’s made of shredded coconut, and there’s even little candy fish tucked in their yellow mouths.”

“How’d you made the beak and the feet?” Nathan asked.

“Laffy Taffy,” Gloria said. “And the penguin’s head is a donut hole dunked in melted black frosting.” She giggled and her bosom shook. “I figured we’d need some sugar and coffee by mid-afternoon. Painting is serious exercise.”

Quinton closed the box and pointed at a row of similar boxes. “She made enough for everyone.” Again, he gazed at Gloria with rapture.

“And if you have any room left, my mama sent raspberry truffle fudge,” Cooper said.

“I’m gaining weight just listening to you all!” Savannah cried. “Let’s eat and then brainstorm about how to spruce up this room. If this place is anything like other school cafeterias, these kids are eating Mystery Meat and Nameless Noodle Casserole, so the least we can do is give them something fun to look at.”

“Limit the pictures of cakes and candy, if you will,” one of the teachers sitting nearby pleaded. “Paint what the students should be eating, like dairy, fruit, and vegetables. If you saw some of the lunches these kids bring from home, you’d wonder if their parents were food shopping at the 7-Eleven.”

“Fresh fruits and vegetables are expensive,” Gloria pointed out kindly. “Perhaps we could start a fund drive to provide the students with healthy lunch sides during the week. I’m sure the area churches would band together to help . . .” The two women excitedly exchanged ideas.

Cooper nudged Quinton, who was staring at Gloria with a faraway smile. “So, Romeo, what are you doing to celebrate V-Day?”

“I’m cooking for her. Fondue. And then we’re going to play board games while we listen to Sinatra.” He sighed happily. “The ice and snow can pile up outside. It doesn’t matter to me because wherever Gloria is, the sun is shining.” Quinton slung an arm around Nathan. “What about you two? Any big plans?”

“Oh, you know, your run-of-the-mill Valentine’s Day activity,” Nathan said sotto voce as he buttered a piece of corn bread. “We’re meeting Edward Crosby at Club Satin, where Cooper will play in a pool tournament and then attempt to buy heroin from a dangerous drug dealer. After that, the three of us will try to stay alive long enough to discover Miguel Ramos’s connection to said drug dealer.”

Jake, who was about to take a bite of corn bread, dropped the square back onto his plate. “Hold the phone! Three of you won’t stand a chance! Don’t you think a plumber with a pipe in his back pocket might come in handy?” He gesticulated at Quinton and Bryant. “These two can’t blend in with a rougher crowd, but I can.”