The Path of the Crooked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 1) (14 page)

While Cooper put away her tools, she cast a covert glance at Cindi. Brooke’s assistant was trim with jet-black hair, tanned skin, and a form-fitting pink leopard-skin skirt. Cooper noticed her muscular legs, which were encased in knee-high riding boots, and her black blouse revealed a generous amount of cleavage.

“I’d better get going,” she said to Nathan. “If I don’t get to Bottoms Up Pizza by six, I’ll have a mutiny on my hands.” She put a hand with bubble-gum painted nails on Nathan’s sleeve and let it linger there for a moment. “It was nice talking to you. I’m Cindi Rolfing, by the way.”

“And I’m, ah, Stuart. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Rolfing.” Nathan gave a gallant bow, causing his shirt to come untucked. “Um, I know this is a bit forward, but could I have your number?”

Cindi giggled. “I’m sorry, sugar. I’m involved with someone right now, but if that doesn’t work out”—she touched the place on Nathan’s uniform shirt where the company logo was embroidered—“I know where to find you.”

As she pulled on a cropped leather jacket, Cooper noticed Cindi’s gold bracelet. It was a chain bracelet with a heart charm hanging from the middle and had been engraved with a message too small for Cooper to read. Cindi blew Nathan a kiss and strutted off to the elevators, while Nathan waved at her until she disappeared inside and then quickly canvassed the rest of the floor.

“There’s only one guy left at his workstation and he’s listening to his iPod while playing Tetris.” Nathan’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Keep a lookout while I hack into Brooke’s computer, okay?”

“Were you being sincere in asking her out?” Cooper whispered in surprise as she began to examine the surface of Cindi’s disheveled desk, hoping to find one of the copies of the document she’d made for Brooke the day they’d met.

“No way!” Nathan hissed from inside Brooke’s dark office. “But I believe that woman listened in on every phone conversation Brooke had. And I bet she overheard Brooke’s argument with Wesley. I was hoping that by seeing Cindi again, I could discover what that fight was about. It could be important.”

“Nathan. What if the police are right?” Cooper’s throat turned dry. “They were fighting a few days before she was killed. Maybe there was trouble in paradise.”

Nathan swiveled around on his chair. “People argue. Even people who love each other deeply. You told us that Brooke was really happy when she talked about her marriage, so she and Wesley had already reconciled.”

Feeling like a louse, Cooper fell silent as she carefully sifted through interoffice memos, old faxes, and other work-related documents. Nothing raised a red flag. She then flipped through the pages of Cindi’s phone message pad. Several messages had been taken but not delivered to Brooke. Cooper assumed this was normal protocol. One of Cindi’s jobs was likely to screen calls and handle some of the simpler requests, leaving Brooke to concentrate on more important tasks.

Cindi was a prolific doodler and had drawn hearts, martini glasses, dollar signs, and striped beach umbrellas on dozens of pages. Sometimes she was an efficient assistant, recording the date and time of each call. Other times, she simply wrote down a name and then surrounded the letters with stars or flowers, probably while she listened to the caller speak. These memos made it clear that Cindi didn’t always find her job too exciting. Turning over the pages, Cooper was surprised at the number of messages from repeat callers that Cindi never delivered to her boss.

On the last few pages, Cooper spied a familiar name: Hazel. There were three calls from Hazel in March, but no last name or return number was listed. On the second to last page, it looked like Cindi had begun to write Hazel’s number down, but had scratched over the first two digits as if she’d come to the conclusion that Hazel’s call wasn’t important. The last page had been torn from the book.

Cooper popped her head into Brooke’s office, where Nathan was shutting down Brooke’s computer.

“I didn’t see any files with unusual content,” he said, sounding dejected. “There are no documents in code or hidden folders. Her stuff is organized and straightforward. Anything interesting on Cindi’s desk?”

Cooper brandished the pad. “Hazel strikes again.” She showed him the messages from March. “Nathan, I think you need to talk to Cindi again.”

“Based on that torn page at the end, I wonder if Cindi got rid of even more messages from Hazel.” Nathan scrutinized the two digits hidden beneath scribbles of purple ink. “I think it’s an
eight
and a
zero.
Cindi was probably going to write 804 and then realized Hazel was giving her the same area code we all have, so she didn’t bother writing any more.”

“This is so frustrating!” Cooper shouted. “Every clue leads to the same thing. Hazel, Hazel, Hazel. I’d give my left lung to know who this woman is!”

“Cindi knows, but how are we going to pry that info out of her?” Nathan sighed. “Since she has a boyfriend, flirting isn’t the answer. I think another one of the Sunrise members will have to approach her.”

“Maybe Trish can give her a free home assessment,” Cooper half teased as they exited the elevator.

Nathan mulled this over. “That’s not half bad, actually.” He nudged her in the side and Cooper let out a small shriek. “Wow, not only are you ticklish, but you have the makings of a real detective.”

Cooper’s neck turned pink.

Out in the parking lot, Nathan climbed into the back of the van to change into a sweatshirt and jeans. As Cooper settled in the driver’s seat, she saw a flash of pink leopard print. A few rows in front of the van, Cindi was making a graceful exit from the passenger side of a black Acura SUV. After blowing a kiss to the car’s occupant, she got in her own car—a ten-year-old Civic—and sped off.

The Acura’s vanity plate read HRD DRIV, so Cooper assumed the owner worked for Capital City’s IT department. Even more interesting was the gold band she noticed on his ring finger. Cindi had been sending air kisses to a married man.

9

Cooper brought home the uniform she’d borrowed to be washed. As she was folding the black pants early Saturday morning, Grammy appeared in the doorway to her bedroom wearing her teal tracksuit with a pair of socks embroidered with multicolored tulips. She gave the pants an appraising look.

“Where’d those come from?” She gave Cooper a curious stare. “Is there a man up in your apartment?”

“No, Grammy,” Cooper said.

“Too bad.” Frowning, the older woman shuffled off to the kitchen.

A minute later, Cooper followed her and joined her father by the coffee carafe. Silently, Earl poured his daughter a mug, settled himself at the scrubbed farm table, and began to work the puzzles in the
Times-Dispatch.

“You doing a cryptogram?” Cooper asked.

Earl removed his reading glasses, cleaned an imaginary spot from the lenses, and clicked the point of his pen in and out. This was a sign that he wanted to talk about something. “You seem to be mighty busy these days, my girl,” he said. “Any luck findin’ out what happened to that nice lady?”

Cooper shook her head. “More questions than answers at this point.” She met her father’s bright blue gaze. “Today, I’m going with some of my new friends to visit a woman whose husband’s run off.” She sighed. “I thought going to church would make me feel . . . I don’t know, more sure about life, but it seems more confusing than ever.”

Earl nodded in understanding. “Well, you’ve been hidin’ out a bit too long. Now you’re out there, mixin’ with folks and seein’ the good and the bad.” Earl clicked his pen repeatedly. “Your mama said you went out to dinner with a fellow a few nights back. Is he someone you’ve set your cap on?”

Cooper felt her cheeks grow warm. She told her father all she knew about the tall website designer with the pleasant face. “Nathan’s a great guy, but he’s just a friend. I still love Drew. I’ve loved him for such a long time that I don’t know how to stop, Daddy.”

Earl took Cooper’s hands in his. “Listen here, my girl. That boy is gone. You’re on a new road now and it’s gonna be rocky, but I think it’s leadin’ you to a good place and to fine people like this Nathan fellow.” He squeezed her hand. “I know this is not what you want to hear, but let Drew go.”

Cooper felt the truth of her father’s words sear her heart and found herself blinking back tears.

“Why don’t you try spending time with Nathan? You could fix him something to eat,” Maggie suggested softly, having stealthily tiptoed into the kitchen during their conversation. “I won your daddy over by feeding him.”

“That’s wise counsel!” Grammy called out her two cents from the other room. She had turned the television volume down until it was barely audible.

Ignoring her mother and grandmother, Cooper examined the crossword, which her father had filled out in record time. “How’d you get so good at puzzles, Daddy?” she asked in an effort to change the subject.

He shrugged. “Just like figurin’ them out, same as I like workin’ on that old Malibu or changin’ a tractor blade. Feels good to see how things fit together, to come to the end of a problem.” He patted her hand. “But you gotta stick with it. You help solve that murder case and then solve the mystery of who you want to be.”

Cooper smiled fondly at her father and he gave her a little wink as he pointed at her mother. Maggie had her box of recipe cards in her hands and was holding her greatest treasure out for Cooper to take. “Meat’s always a good place to start when it comes to men. Maybe a pot roast?”

Relenting, Cooper accepted the box. “All right, I’ll invite Nathan over for dinner. I’ll be seeing him today because we’re going to visit that wheelchair-bound lady I told you about last Sunday.” She opened the freezer. “Do you have some cookies I could take her, Mama?”

Maggie smoothed her apron, her face all business. “I can do better than that! The woman’s husband has gone missing! She needs more than cookies.” Maggie began whipping cupboards and drawers open and piling bowls, utensils, and ingredients on the counter. “I’m going to fix her a nice turkey rice casserole, a fresh loaf of honey wheat bread, and a chocolate chess pie. Get out of my kitchen. I’ve got work to do.” Smiling, she gestured at the back door.

“Don’t let her go without that pot roast recipe!” Grammy yelled.

• • •

The plan was for Cooper to drive to Nathan’s house in the Fan district, and from there the two of them would pick up Savannah and head north to the home of Eliza and Jed Weeks.

Nathan lived in a blue row house on Floyd Street. Cooper parked on the street and then hustled up the stairs and rang the bell. She could hear Nathan bounding to the door like an eager dog. As he pulled it open with a smile, smells of tomato sauce and crushed basil floated across the threshold.

“Are you cooking?” she asked, stepping inside. She peered around his sparse living room with overt curiosity.

Nathan followed her gaze as she took in the solitary club chair and end table placed near the brick fireplace. “I haven’t done much with this room,” he said, indicating for her to continue on to the back of the house. “I pretty much live in the kitchen and my office.”

In the kitchen, which was painted a warm red and had quartz countertops and dark cabinets, the delicious aroma that had greeted Cooper at the front door was even stronger. “Are you part Web designer, part Iron Chef?” she inquired, picking up one of his lobster-shaped potholders.

“Not at all!” Nathan exclaimed. “I can grill a mean steak and wield a can opener like nobody’s business, but that’s about it. Oh, and omelets. I’m good at omelets.” He pointed at the oven. “That’s a lasagna I picked up from Meal Makers. It was frozen, so I’m just baking it before we visit Eliza. And I couldn’t resist their Greek chicken and pasta, but I grabbed the family-sized bag by mistake, so unless you’re willing to stay for dinner, I’ll be eating that for the next four days. Are you free tonight?”

“Sure,” she said, surprised by the invitation. “That sounds great.” She glanced outside to hide her smile of delight. “So where’s your office?”

Nathan began to fidget. “Ah, it’s across the hall.” He gestured at the closed door just as the oven timer began to beep. “Go ahead in, but I’m giving you fair warning, you might find it a bit bizarre. Most women do.”

Intrigued, Cooper opened the door to what appeared to be a
Star Wars
shrine. Spaceships hung from the ceiling, action figures stood on every inch of available shelving, and framed posters, decals, ticket stubs, cereal boxes, and trading cards vied for room on the crowded walls. The room had been painted a deep blue and Nathan had placed adhesive stars over every surface, so that the daylight streaming in through the bay window illuminated the stars until they appeared to be twinkling.

“I’m a
Star Wars
fan,” Nathan said sheepishly as he came up behind her.

“I couldn’t tell,” Cooper said with a laugh. “How many items are in your collection?”

Nathan removed a Han Solo PEZ dispenser from the nearest shelf. “Over two thousand.”

Cooper couldn’t see why a grown man would fill an entire room with
Star Wars
memorabilia. “What got you started on all this?”

Shrugging, Nathan replaced the candy dispenser. “I wanted to be a comic-book artist after I saw the movie. I was so inspired that I began drawing scenes and characters from
Star Wars
in my spare time. Eventually, I holed up in my room, creating my own galaxies, heroes, and villains. I stopped going outside to play, wouldn’t hang out with my friends—I didn’t go anywhere without my sketchpad and a box of colored pencils. Finally, I started getting in trouble in school. That’s when my parents enrolled me in a computer camp.” He readjusted one of the action figures. “I discovered a natural affinity for computers and the camp led to my current career, but I’ll never forget how that movie fueled my imagination.”

Cooper thought she saw a trace of sadness on Nathan’s face. “But now you create websites, so your grown-up job’s not that different from being a comic-book artist. You’re just drawing using code, right?”