The Way of the Wicked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 2) (13 page)

When she reached the lobby, Angela waved a piece of pink memo paper at Cooper with her left hand while holding the phone against her shoulder and taking notes with her right.

She looks cross,
Cooper thought. She mouthed a thank-you at Angela and examined the message. It was from Trish. Angela had taken down the Realtor’s cell phone number and made it clear that Cooper should return the call ASAP.

Donning her headset once again, Cooper hopped into the van and called Trish.

“You’re the last one I needed to get hold of,” Trish began. “I phoned Lali to see what happened on Saturday and it’s a good thing I did. The police have nothing to go on because Mr. Crosby refused to talk to them. I mean, the man didn’t say a single word. He just waved them away so he could watch TV. Despite his lack of cooperation, the officers also paid visits to all the folks who claim to have had things stolen from their homes.”

“Oh, good,” Cooper said, heading for the interstate in hopes of avoiding the hundreds of traffic lights on Broad Street.

“No, not good,” Trish countered. “Apparently, all of the victims have suffered memory lapses over the last six months.”

Cooper scowled as a minivan eased into her lane without bothering to signal. “So?”

“So they don’t make very reliable witnesses,” Trish explained impatiently. “Basically, the police told Lali that there’s not much they can do until more proof of a crime can be provided.”

“Oh, dear.” Cooper was discouraged. “I was hoping they’d figure out who was responsible for all these bad things, giving us no cause to get involved.”

“Well, they’re not doing anything else, but
we’re
going to.”

Instantly anxious, Cooper pressed down on the gas pedal and the van lumbered forward in the center lane, gaining on a yellow bus from one of the county’s elementary schools. “What do you have in mind?” Cooper frowned as the children sitting in the back seats pressed their faces against the glass and began contorting their features for her benefit.

“We’re proceeding with our potluck party. This Saturday evening at the Deep Run Park Recreation Center. Can you bring one of your mama’s wonderful desserts? I’m in charge of the wine.”

Cooper was thrown for a loop by that statement. “Can you even drink wine at the park?”

“I’m getting a temporary alcohol permit. We’re going to need the wine, Cooper. We have to loosen lots of tongues.”

“It’s kind of short notice, Trish,” Cooper pointed out as she exited the highway. “Do you think all the volunteers will come?”

“We only need the ones who work Fridays or Saturdays.”

“Why?”

“Because the missing items were always discovered after a weekend. Lali let something
else
slip as well.” Trish paused to build suspense. “The folks who died this summer were all declared dead on a Saturday or Sunday. That means someone’s been messing with the clients on a Friday or Saturday.”

Cooper tried to digest Trish’s logic. “Still, do you think everyone will show up for a spontaneous potluck?”

“I know they will,” Trish declared. “Lali gave me their numbers and I’ve been on the phone all afternoon. They’re all coming—probably because I made a big deal of emphasizing that it was an appreciation dinner in their honor and that someone was going to win two tickets to
Hairspray
at the Landmark Theater. How could they say no?” Trish sounded harried, but pleased. “The only one I can’t reach is Leo. Seems he doesn’t have a phone at the moment.”

“He’s the person I’d least expect to see at this dinner.”

“Oh, he’s going!” Trish exclaimed. “If I have to tie him up and carry him on my shoulders, he’s going.”

Cooper laughed at the image. “In that case, I’d better make some extra pumpkin bars. Leo looks like he could pack away some food.”

“Let’s just hope that’s all he’s packing,” Trish muttered.

“Trish,” Cooper admonished. “You have to stop watching
Law & Order
reruns.”

9

Cooper arrived at the Deep Run Park Recreation Center carrying two baskets lined with autumnal tea towels. Each basket was brimming with fragrant pumpkin crisp squares, and she couldn’t help but feel a small measure of pride over how perfectly the golden crumb topping and moist pumpkin layer had turned out. Of course, Maggie’s original recipes always resulted in a mouthwatering dessert, but not all were as simple to reproduce as the pumpkin squares.

Grammy had watched Cooper bake throughout the afternoon. She’d sampled the unbaked crisp and insisted that Cooper add more butter or brown sugar to the mixture. Finally, she pronounced that every bachelor in the room should propose marriage after sampling the pumpkin squares.

“You must take after your mama in the kitchen.” Grammy was clearly pleased. “She speaks the truth when she calls her goodies Magnolia’s Marvels. Guess I’m the lucky one, since all I seem able to taste these days are foods loaded with sugar or salt. Of course, I had to find out the hard way that my denture paste can’t stand up to peanuts.”

As she cut the pumpkin crisp into squares, Cooper noted that Grammy was skinnier than ever and marveled over how she continued to diminish in size despite snacking on cookies all day long.

“You feeling okay, Grammy?” she’d asked her.

“Just a mite tired,” Grammy had replied and patted Cooper’s arm. “Go on and have fun with your friends. I don’t need you frettin’ over me. Leave your worries in this kitchen, ya hear?”

That had been easier said than done, however, for Trish had telephoned all the Sunrise Bible Study members to inform them that they were each to pay particular attention to two of the volunteers on Saturday night. Cooper was supposed to glean as much information as possible about Warren and Brenda and then, once she returned home, write down all of her observations to share with the group Sunday after church.

Cooper didn’t expect any difficulty in chatting up Brenda, but drawing Warren out would be a challenge. After all, he was pleasant, but he was also quite shy, and Cooper knew that conducting small talk was a skill in which she was not very accomplished.

I hope I’m not too obvious,
she thought as she stepped through the sliding glass doors of the recreation center.

According to Trish, Nathan had been assigned to Warren as well. He and Bryant were also supposed to subtly interrogate Penny until they had a complete picture of her life beyond the hours she devoted to Door-2-Door.

“By investigating in pairs, we’ll have two views on the regular Saturday volunteers,” Trish explained, adopting an authoritative tone. “Except for Leo, that is.
If
he shows up, Savannah wants to be seated next to him and then she’d like us to leave her alone with him. Can you imagine?”

Cooper could. If anyone could break through Leo’s tough exterior, it was Savannah. She had such a gentle manner, a soft, sincere quietness that created a feeling of safety. Their group leader was adept at listening, was never judgmental, and always looked for the good in people. This feeling of serenity was infused in all of her folk art paintings and Cooper remembered how she felt when she saw one of Savannah’s works for the first time. She had been moved and delighted by the faceless figures of Savannah’s biblical scenes. Whether she was painting Adam and Eve in the garden or Jesus walking on water, Savannah managed to capture the feeling behind the words of Scripture each time her brush met the canvas.

“Let me take one of those baskets,” Jake offered when Cooper entered the room. The circular tables were covered with mustard-colored cloths and featured centerpieces of garnet-hued chrysanthemums in terra-cotta pots. Red, yellow, and orange balloons were tied to the back of each chair, and oversized leaves sprinkled with glitter dangled from the ceiling, pivoting lazily above the sounds of conversation and laughter.

“Trish, you did a wonderful job in here!” Cooper complimented her friend.

Trish smoothed her helmet of copper hair and grinned. “Thank you. My girls helped me set up this afternoon. They really wanted to stay. They even tried to get my husband to convince me.” Her smile grew smaller. “But they’ve got a piano recital next week and they simply
must
practice. I promised to bring them some dessert though.” She leaned toward Cooper’s basket. “Are those the pumpkin crisp squares?”

“They smell
so
good!” Quinton put his face close to the basket Jake held and inhaled deeply. Trish reached out for both baskets.

“I’ll just put these on the buffet table. Quinton, why don’t you see if any of the volunteers would care for a glass of apple cider? We have nonalcoholic and a spiked version as well. I added apple brandy to the punch bowl on the right. Time to get those tongues wagging!” Trish swiveled toward the door. “Oh, there’s Lali and Anita. Good luck, friends.” She hurried away in a click of maroon heels.

“Does that woman ever rest?” Jake murmured in admiration. “Her family seems like they’re all go-getters. The husband and those two cute little girls worked their butts off setting up and then didn’t ask Trish to bring home so much as a cookie or a brownie. Just kissed her good-bye and went on home.”

Cooper watched Trish welcome Lali, Anita, and a man she assumed was Anita’s husband. “I’m glad Trish sent the girls home. I’m sure she didn’t want them exposed to a dangerous individual. After all, someone wicked will be mingling with us tonight, Jake.”

“I see your point.” Jake nodded thoughtfully.

“Did Trish hire a band?” Cooper indicated the raised platform in the corner, which was set up with three microphones, an amplifier, a keyboard, and drums.

“That would be so cool,” Bryant said, coming to join them. “And here I thought Trish was a bit uptight, but I could be wrong. Spiked punch and maybe some rocking music. What a shindig!”

Jake laughed. “Before you get your
Saturday Night Fever
on, I asked her about the little stage over there. It was set up for a guy’s surprise birthday party. They’re using this room after us for some late-night bash to celebrate his turning twenty-one.”

Bryant sighed. “I remember my twenty-first. It was awesome.”

“If Trish were standing here, she’d say that you still believe you’re twenty-one,” Cooper teased.

“You’re only as young as you think you are,” Bryant quipped.

“Or as young as the girls you date.” Jake nudged him playfully in the side. “Did you ask out that woman at work yet?”

Bryant smiled. “Not only did I ask her out, but I invited her kids to come along. I took them bowling. First of all, I never realized how much food a kid can pack away. Popcorn, pretzels, hot dogs, pitchers of soda, and ice cream for dessert. You should have seen the debris scattered across the table. Secondly, I’ve never been so badly beaten by an entire family during a casual game of knock-down-the-pins. Paige outscored me by twenty and somehow still managed to make me feel like I was the man of the hour.”

“She sounds like a special lady,” Jake said. “I think you’re going to have a lot of fun with her and her kids. I’m glad you took her out, my man.”

“Me, too.” Bryant grinned sheepishly.

“Okay, friends.” Quinton gestured at the tables. “Let’s start socializing. I’ve been assigned Madge and Eugene. Eugene ought to be easy enough to cross off the list. He always has to go along with someone who can drive, so unless he’s been stealing things on the sly during deliveries, he’s in the clear.”

Quinton glanced at the young man who was putting a face on a pumpkin using a permanent marker, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated. “Not that I can see him hurting anyone. He seems completely content, so what would be his motive for taking other people’s treasures?”

As Quinton walked away, Cooper reflected on his comment. What
was
the thief’s motive? Money? Did they sell the objects they stole? Did they feel humiliated or overlooked and therefore felt the need to prey on people they could easily take advantage of? Were they seeking revenge against the elderly because a senior citizen had once wronged them?

Cooper watched Jake and Quinton seat themselves at different tables and begin to strike up conversations. Shaking her head, she wondered if any of her friends was truly capable of determining which volunteer fit the profile of thief and possible murderer.

“You all right?” Nathan whispered, placing his hand on the small of her back. “You seem lost in thought.”

“This just feels wrong. We should be saluting these folks for giving up their time to help those in need. Instead, we’ve gathered here to wring out their secrets, hang them on the line, and then examine them with a magnifying glass.”

“I know,” Nathan replied softly. “But think of Mr. Crosby. He’s alone with no one to defend him, as are so many of the seniors relying on Door-2-Door. If we don’t protect them, who will?” His hand slid up her back and squeezed her shoulder, sending a tingle along the knobs of her spine. “Just listen to your heart, Cooper. It’ll know what to do.”

Buoyed by Nathan’s pep talk, Cooper joined Warren at the food table. Picking up a paper plate covered by designs of a fruit-filled cornucopia, Cooper noticed that Trish had also used coordinating cornucopia notecards to identify the dishes. The buffet line kicked off with a cheddar-and-bacon dip accompanied by thin slices of homemade rye bread. Next was a green salad tossed with walnuts and goat cheese. Beyond that, a Crock-Pot filled with simmering corn chowder stood adjacent to a bowl of long-grain rice mixed with dried cranberries. The entree, which Trish had had catered from a nearby restaurant, was an elegant platter of sliced pork tenderloin in a wild mushroom sauce. A deep bowl of tricolored pasta salad with black olives came next, followed by a colorful squash medley. A wooden bowl overflowing with autumn succotash was at the end of the long line of mouthwatering food.

Cooper served herself a spoonful of succotash, admiring how beautifully the hues of the lima beans, corn kernels, and bacon slivers complemented one another. When her plate could hold no more, she followed Warren past the dessert table, which contained her pumpkin crisp squares along with an apple strudel and a chocolate pecan pie.