The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (8 page)

“So? Do the police have any idea what happened to Miguel now that you’ve handed over all the paperwork you had on him?”

Both Cooper and Nathan moved closer to the couple in order to listen to Lincoln’s answer. “They talked to the girls in Human Resources the most,” he said while loading the coffee cups into the dishwasher. “I think they have doubts about the authenticity of Miguel’s official documents—his social security card and driver’s license, for example.”

“Was he an illegal?” Cooper whispered.

Lincoln nodded. “That’d be my guess. In addition to collecting the paperwork, they interviewed Jason, one of the mechanics. Apparently, he was the last person to see Miguel alive. Jason says that Miguel seemed totally normal yesterday. He came inside for a soda, chatted with him about an NBA game, and said he was going to gas up some demo vehicles before calling it a day.” He closed the dishwasher and wiped his hands on a birthday napkin. “That’s the last anyone saw of him.”

“Until I opened the trunk.” Ashley scoured Maggie’s serving bowls over and over again with a bristly sponge until Cooper reached across her sister and turned off the faucet. Ashley continued to stare at the soapy water. “I don’t want to sit around and wait for the police to figure this out.” She gave Lincoln a pleading look. “Can’t you start your own investigation at work?”

He quickly shook his head. “I’m leaving this to the professionals. We should stay out of their way, honey.”

On one hand, Cooper agreed with Lincoln, but she also understood the sense of responsibility her sister felt. She, too, had seen how Miguel had been trussed up and stashed inside the dark trunk. It was an undignified and disrespectful ending to a life.

Ashley had mentioned feeling haunted. Cooper was experiencing the same sensation. She couldn’t escape the image of the photograph in the newsletter. Miguel’s reluctant smile. The light of pride in his eyes. The sense of anticipation in his young face. She wanted to act as well. She hated feeling so helpless, of having no chance of closure until the police solved the case.

While Nathan and Lincoln said their good-byes to Earl and Maggie, Cooper took out the garbage. She dropped the bag into the plastic can outside and turned to see Ashley’s silhouette in the doorway. She stared expectantly at Cooper. Cooper stared back at her and then nodded.

 “We’ll give the police a week,” Cooper whispered as the clouds moved aside to reveal a white sickle moon. “After that, I’ll ask the Sunrise members to get involved. I have faith that they’ll know just what to do next.”

5

Savannah phoned Cooper on Saturday to tell her that their Bible study meeting would be held at Trish’s house. Trish was so weak and nauseated from Friday morning’s chemo treatment that she didn’t expect to have the strength to make it to Hope Street.

“So we’ll bring Hope Street to her,” Savannah said. “Quinton volunteered to feed us lunch and Bryant will do the hair-cutting honors. Trish wanted to give her locks one last week to hold on, but I think she’s truly resigned to the idea of a wig now.”

Cooper couldn’t imagine how terrifying it would be to have entire clumps of hair coming loose from her scalp. “Poor Trish.”

“She’s a fighter,” Savannah said firmly. “She’ll teach us a thing or two about strength.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Cooper agreed, but she still felt frightened for her friend. She was also tempted to tell Savannah about Miguel Ramos and the nightmares she’d had all week, but the moment passed.

In these disturbing dreams, Cooper had been locked inside a car trunk. Imprisoned in blackness, her body pitched and rolled whenever the car hugged a curve or came to a sudden stop. With her mouth covered in duct tape, she struggled to breathe through her nostrils. Her lungs burned, and the little air she was able to take in smelled of sweat and fear.

For the past few nights, Cooper had woke up feeling scared and disoriented. She knew that only the resolution of Miguel’s case would restore her peaceful slumber, but the police didn’t seem to have much to go on.

Wiser and McNamara had questioned the employees of Lincoln’s dealership and all the personnel at the other Love franchises. As of this point, the only information they’d shared with Lincoln was that Miguel’s Social Security card and driver’s license were both forged and that he was likely an illegal immigrant.

Cooper wondered if Miguel’s murder had become less of a priority now that the authorities were aware of his possible illegal status. She prayed this was not the case, but she was also conscious that gang-related crimes had escalated during the month of January, and the police had neither the funds nor the manpower to suppress the violence spreading throughout the city.

Her father was reading an article about the gang issue that very morning. As soon as Cooper sat down at her parents’ kitchen table, Earl slid over the
Richmond Times-Dispatch.

“Your mama wants me to keep you close today,” he said, peering at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “I don’t think you’re in harm’s way, but it’ll ease her mind.”

Cooper had expected this. The day after Grammy’s party, Maggie had called an emergency family meeting, forcing Cooper and Ashley to recount precisely what had happened Monday night.

“I want to hear this story with both my girls sitting in front of me,” their mother insisted.

The afternoon of their meeting, Grammy appeared at the kitchen table first. “I knew you kids were actin’ funny last night,” she said and took a seat.

Though they were able to walk their family through the events of Monday night, neither daughter could set their mother’s mind at ease by telling her that the police had made an arrest.

“This case may never get solved.” Ashley’s hands shook as she reached for her glass of water. “A murderer is running loose!”

Earl put a strong hand on each of his daughter’s shoulders and squeezed. “I’m glad you two came through this ordeal none the worse for wear.” He then gave Maggie a tender look. “It’s a shame that the unfortunate young man ended up in your garage, Ashley, but I don’t see that we should get it fixed in our minds that anyone is after you.” His gaze shifted to Cooper. “This is for the lawmen to handle. You stay out of the way and try to move on, ya hear?”

But now, five days later, Cooper was just as troubled by Miguel’s death as she’d been when she first peered inside the Cadillac’s trunk. She unfolded the paper and read the headline story on the strife in Richmond’s East End. The reporter commented on the unusual number of shootings in January, stating that the violent crimes committed that month were more like the statistics expected in June or July. The tragic exchange of gunfire by two African-American teens had made the front page. The two young men, who’d fought over the right to spray paint a few square feet of cement, both died at the scene. Theirs was not the only blood spilled, however, for a stray bullet also stole the life of a ten-year-old girl walking home from a friend’s apartment.

The anguish felt by the residents of East End screamed through the black print.

“The police are never going to be able to focus on Miguel Ramos’s case in the face of this horrible tragedy,” Cooper muttered sadly while staring at the photograph of the East End crime scene. A dozen policemen were frozen in investigative postures, scrutinizing the ground, collecting spent bullets, and interviewing bystanders. Crime scene tape was tied from every available tree and telephone pole.

Earl looked up from his crossword puzzle and tapped the paper in Cooper’s hands. “This scene is starting to repeat itself. It’s no good. Little girls dying from stray bullets, young men killing one another over an insult, and drugs everywhere, poisoning people’s minds. I’m not saying Miguel’s death isn’t important, but it didn’t spread fear like a wildfire.” He put his pen down. “How about we get going? Grammy wants me to take her to Wal-Mart, and you don’t need to be reading this stuff right now.”

“Wal-Mart? On a Saturday?” Cooper was astonished. “It’ll be a zoo.”

Earl nodded. “Don’t I know it? Grammy probably wants to get her kicks by ramming a few folks with her cart. Maybe she’ll behave if you come along.”

With Nathan away for the day visiting a former college roommate in northern Virginia, Cooper had no plans, so she reluctantly agreed.

From the moment they passed through Wal-Mart’s sliding glass doors, Grammy was deliberately impish. She shuffled along behind her cart at a snail’s pace, stopped abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and snorted with impatience when another woman blocked her access to the pitted prunes.

Earl took her behavior in stride until they reached the women’s underwear section. When Grammy held up bikini briefs and demanded to be shown where the underwear for “normal, decent folk” was located, he suddenly shouted, “I’ll be in the hardware department!” and took off at a brisk pace.

Grammy smirked and then held up a minuscule black pair of panties made of faux satin. “Is this underwear or an eye patch?” she asked Cooper.

Laughing, Cooper managed to find the cotton briefs Grammy wanted. They moved through accessories, where Cooper was attracted to a colorful display of fleece hats, gloves, and scarves. Selecting a lavender cap, she stroked the soft material and then carried it over to a mirror and put it on. She was pleased that the material covered her entire head, obscuring her hair entirely.

Trish is going to get cold without her thick hair,
she thought and placed the cap and the matching scarf and gloves into the cart. After a moment’s hesitation, she added a turquoise set for herself.

Her shopping completed, Grammy was now in a great hurry to get back home. Apparently, one of her favorite Spencer Tracy films was coming on at one o’clock and she wanted to eat her lunch and be “good and settled” on the sofa with her cashmere blanket and Little Boy before the movie started.

The second they reached the front of the predictably long checkout line, Grammy stamped her feet and sighed in annoyance over the cashier’s lackadaisical movements.

“I’ve seen slugs with more get-up-and-go,” she complained too loudly.

Cooper shushed her and started unloading the cart. As she did so, Grammy reached out and grabbed the lavender fleece cap from her hand. “You don’t usually wear this shade.”

“It’s not for me.” Cooper explained that Trish had breast cancer and, because of the chemotherapy, was losing her hair. “She’s asked us to come to her house tomorrow because she’s ready to shave it all off. I figured she’d really feel the chill without something warm on her head.”

Grammy studied Cooper’s face. “You’re real worried about your friend, aren’t you? Don’t worry, girlie. Love’ll see her through.” She cradled the lavender cap gently in her hands and then brought it to her face, murmuring into the fabric. Cooper heard her say, “Lord, let Trish dwell in Your shelter. Be her refuge, her fortress, her covering, her shield. Command Your angels to guard her. Amen.” Cooper quickly looked away so that Grammy wouldn’t see her tears, but her grandmother had turned her attention to the candy displays lining the checkout aisle. “I’m havin’ a Baby Ruth. After all, you never know when you’re going to draw your last breath.”

 Earl reappeared in time to catch his mother’s last line. He smiled at Cooper. “She’s a tough nut, your grandma, but I love her more than my new socket wrench.”

Trailing her father and grandmother to the car, Cooper felt a rush of affection for her quirky family members.

She wheeled the empty cart to the closest collection site and paused for a moment, watching the other shoppers walk across the parking lot. She saw couples holding hands, adults helping their aged parents navigate the uneven ground, children raised on their fathers’ shoulders, and toddlers riding on their mothers’ hips. Cheeks were flushed pink by the cold, exhalations plumed in the air, the chatter of voices drifted over the cars, and here and there the flash of a smile brightened the January morning.

Cooper absorbed the signs of everyday living and felt that, suddenly, there was beauty all around. The cars gleamed in the winter sun. People waved to one another. Laughter was exchanged.

Heading back to Earl’s station wagon, Cooper repeated Grammy’s sentiment. “Love will see us through.”

• • •

The next morning, after Hope Street’s worship service was over, the Sunrise members bypassed the beckoning table filled with donuts and fresh fruit and headed straight for their cars. As usual, Jake drove Savannah in his Mr. Faucet van.

Trish’s husband, Phil, was loading their two daughters into the family Volvo as the Bible study group arrived at the Tylers’ stately home. Trish’s girls waved from the backseat and Phil smiled apologetically at his wife’s friends and called, “We’re off to Friendly’s for lunch and then to
High School Musical 3.
Again!”

Cooper thought Phil and the girls seemed relieved to be leaving.

“It wasn’t hard to chase them off. I’ve been horrible to live with this weekend,” Trish explained from her position on the living room sofa. Cooper felt like rushing to her friend’s side and embracing her, for Trish truly looked sick. Her face was puffy and pale, her eyes dull and tired, and her legs were drawn up under her and covered by a throw blanket. Cooper was used to seeing Trish with makeup and jewelry. She was used to her in skirt suits and heels, but Trish was wearing a gray sweatshirt and a faded Richmond Braves baseball cap.

“Should we have lunch and then review this week’s lesson?” Savannah asked. “Are you hungry, Trish?”

“Not really,” she said weakly. “It’s hard to eat with such a dry mouth, but feel free to bring your food in here. Make yourselves comfortable. I’m through with decorum.” She gestured at the sweatshirt. “I’ve never allowed anyone to eat in this room before, but suddenly rules like that seem dumb.”

“I’m serving comfort food today. Bologna and cheese on sesame-seed rolls with a side of Fritos.” Quinton set a paper plate on Trish’s lap. “And here’s a big glass of water to help wash it all down.”

Jake led Savannah to one of the wing chairs and offered to fix a sandwich for her. Bryant sat next to Trish and put a hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”