The Way of the Wicked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 2) (19 page)

The Colonel laughed. “I’m a dealer, lady, not a damn pharmacist. I know how to make people feel good. I know how to make them forget their pain. But I don’t sample my own products.” He leaned back in his chair in a posture of superiority. “That’s just stupid.”

“Frank was experiencing short-term memory loss. He seemed really anxious and confused,” Cooper plodded on. “He lost a whole day just sitting in his chair and he thinks he saw someone go into his bedroom.”

“Time’s up, Crosby!” The deputy stood up from behind the desk again.

Cooper placed her hand against the glass. “Please!” she pleaded into the phone. “If you could just give me an educated guess.”

“Could be ecstasy,” the Colonel replied and stood. “You find out, let me know. Maybe I could expand my product line.” He winked at her.

Ignoring the barb, Cooper removed her hand from the glass. “I’ll write you if we discover anything. I promise.”

For the first time, a glimmer of something resembling hope entered the Colonel’s eyes. “That’d be the first promise someone hasn’t broken, then,” he replied, hung up the phone, and strutted from the room.

Cooper and Nathan left the visitors’ room and crossed through the boisterous lobby and out into the October air. Standing in the shadow of the building, Cooper suddenly realized that Frank Crosby’s son seemed every bit as friendless and alone as his father had been. The thought made her deeply sad.

In the parking lot, Cooper reached for Nathan. She buried her head against his neck and listened to his melodious baritone as he prayed for Edward Crosby. She’d never heard him pray aloud before, and the intimacy of this act, of his sharing his concerns for a complete stranger while she listened in silence, was incredibly moving.

Such a good man has been placed in my path,
Cooper thought and held on to Nathan until finally, time forced her to let go.

12

Following her visit with the Colonel, Cooper called an emergency meeting of the Sunrise Bible Study. Savannah led a couples group on Wednesday, so they were unable to congregate right away, and since both Quinton and Bryant had professional commitments on Thursday, they couldn’t meet until Friday evening. Nathan suggested they share a meal at Cracker Barrel because their unusual conversation was unlikely to be overheard at the noisy eatery.

Quinton and Trish were contentedly established in two of the rockers on Cracker Barrel’s verandah when Cooper arrived. Having come straight from work, she was still in her Make It Work! uniform and felt underdressed in comparison to her friends. Trish looked like a coiffed cardinal in a bright red suit, white blouse, and black heels, while Quinton was elegantly attired in a checked blazer, a royal blue button-down, and dark brown pants. An ironed handkerchief peeked from his front jacket pocket in four perfectly folded points.

“Aren’t you dapper?” Cooper smiled at him. Trish wiggled her fingers in greeting but then returned her attention to her mobile phone.

“I
told
you, dear.” Trish turned her body away from Cooper and Quinton. “I’ll reschedule when I have time. It’s probably just a calcium deposit or a cyst. Anyway, I have two open houses this weekend and I’m closing on the Bowers house
and
the Markus estate tomorrow.” She frowned. “Just get the girls to their piano lessons before they’re late and let me worry about my doctor’s appointments.” She said good-bye and put her phone away with a sigh.

Cooper and Quinton exchanged uncomfortable glances and were relieved to see Bryant and Nathan appear at the end of the row of rockers.

Bryant bowed gallantly and helped Trish from her chair. “You should take his advice, milady,” he said. “If you’re talking about a lump then there’s no time to waste.”

Trish opened her mouth to issue a curt reply, but before she had the chance, a car pulled into the handicapped space right in front of them. Savannah emerged from the passenger seat, her cane clicking on the asphalt as she stood up, still holding on to the open car door.

Jake was at her side in a flash, ready to guide her onto the porch. “Thank you for driving me, Pearl, I’ll see you Monday.” Savannah waved at her housekeeper and held out her arm to Jake.

The group entered the restaurant, wading their way through spinner racks of candy, Halloween decorations, and old-fashioned toys toward the hostess station. By some miracle, they only had to wait fifteen minutes for a table.

“I’m going to get the Country Boy Breakfast.” Jake rubbed his work-worn hands together with glee. “Three eggs, pork chops, some grits, Sawmill gravy, fried apples, hash-brown casserole, and buttermilk biscuits. That should keep me until morning.”

“There’s always the chocolate pudding pie if you have room,” Quinton said.

After their hostess had seated them at a large wooden table in the corner of the dining room, Cooper flipped to the menu’s breakfast page. “Jake, you’ve got me craving pecan pancakes and bacon.”

“I was going to order the meat loaf, but now I’ll have Eggs-in-the-Basket instead. See how I crumble in the face of peer pressure.” Nathan chuckled. “Let’s get a big carafe of decaf and start our day all over again.”

“No, thank you.” Bryant looked horrified by the idea. “That grad student I was dating a few months ago has turned into a psychotic stalker. She weaseled her way into the studio today by introducing herself to everyone as my
fiancée.
If it weren’t for Paige, my deranged ex would have jumped right in front of the blue screen with me!”

“Paige is a single mom, remember? That grad student is no match for her!” Trish said after the waitress had taken their order.

Bryant’s eyes glimmered as he described how Paige had handled the situation. “She was firm, but really sweet at the same time. She gave the girl a hug, told her to find someone who was available and that lots of guys would kill to date someone as lovely and intelligent as her, and then walked her to the door. By the time she kicked her out, my ex was hugging her like Paige was her best friend.” He shrugged in befuddlement. “Women.”

“I told you Paige sounded like a great catch!” Trish looked smug. “She’s a woman, not a girl. That’s what you need, Bryant.”

“Yeah. Mother, career woman,
and
bouncer. What more could you want?” Quinton teased as he poured three sugar packets into his coffee cup.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Bryant said to Trish. “I’ll ask Paige to join me on a weekend getaway
with the kids
just as soon as you’ve rescheduled your doctor’s appointment.” He reached over and took her hand. “A lump could be serious. Assuming that it’s nothing could be a big mistake and I’m only being a nag because I care about you.”

Trish shifted in her chair. Stacking several unopened creamers on her butter plate, she blinked innocently and said, “I could have already been to the imaging center for all you know.”

Bryant eyed her keenly. “I heard the tail end of your phone call and I’ve been married enough times to guess that you were being nagged by your husband. He means well, Trish. And he’s right. You need to schedule an appointment right away. Now, shake on our deal.” He held out his hand and Trish reluctantly accepted it.

“Okay, Cooper.” Jake gestured at her with his coffee cup. “What’s going on?”

Cooper told her friends about her visit with the Colonel. They listened carefully, their coffees growing cold as she described his appearance and attitude. Cooper had just finished describing Frank Crosby’s Civil War artifacts when their food arrived.

Jake sprinkled salt over his plate and then zealously carved into his pork chop. Simultaneously, Quinton drowned his French toast in a puddle of warm maple syrup while Savannah covered a piece of toast with a thick layer of apple butter. Bryant cut his smoked sausage patties into equivalent chunks and then looked up at Cooper. “Go on and take a bite. Cold pancakes aren’t very tasty.”

“I’ll finish for her,” Nathan volunteered as Cooper ate. In between bites of egg sandwich, Nathan explained how the Colonel said that ecstasy could have been the drug used to cause his father’s overdose.

“I just can’t imagine any of the Door-2-Door volunteers walking around with ecstasy.” Trish shook her head in disbelief. “I thought—not that I know much about illegal drugs—that ecstasy was a party drug. Something the rich, club-going crowds take.” She patted Bryant’s arm playfully. “And I’m not taking a potshot at you for hanging out at those places with your twenty-something girlfriends, either.”

“Thanks.” Bryant smiled ruefully. “But I think you’re on the money about the drug’s reputation. I remember when a few of our investigative reporters went undercover to learn more about ecstasy. They learned that popping these pills was the hip thing to do at concerts, dance clubs, or raves. It’s called a designer drug because it’s supposed to give you a high that can go on for days.”

“I read about it online,” Cooper said. “Ecstasy, or E, or X can give people hallucinations and create short-term memory loss. Ecstasy is also available in powder form, so it’d be easy to mix with food or dissolve into a liquid, like Mr. Crosby’s hot tea.”

Savannah put down her triangle of toast. “We need to have a more intimate gathering with our volunteer friends.”

“That’s where we arrive at the emergency part of this meeting.” Cooper hesitated and then pressed on. “I want to go into Frank’s house to search for the sword and the diary. If our villain tries to sell those things, we should be able to catch him. Or her. They’ll have to be consigned to a local auction or antique store or sold using an online auction site. If the diary contains the name of the soldier, then searching for the items will be much easier.”

“Why don’t you just tell the police about the diary?” Trish asked. “They can monitor eBay and interview Richmond-area antique dealers. Why don’t we let them do their job?”

Cooper shrugged. Trish made a fair point. “If the diary’s there, I’ll read it and hand it over to the police. I guess I’d like to know what caused Mr. Crosby such anguish in regard to the sword. I want to know the secret about his relative, because it ruined his relationship with his son and created this irrational hatred of the color yellow.”

“You know what they say about curiosity,” Quinton warned. “Sorry, Cooper, but I’m with Trish on this one. You may have discovered an important clue, and that’s great, but let the people experienced in these things figure out what to do with it. Like Savannah said, we should concentrate on the volunteers.”

Jake nodded. “If this slimeball is hoarding the stolen loot at home or knows other scumbags to hawk for him, we’re not going to find those things anyway.”

Cooper ate the rest of her meal in silence. She knew that her friends were right and that she should turn matters over to the police, but after talking to the Colonel she felt that she owed it to him to find some answers.

After filling their stomachs, the Sunrise members settled their bill and made their way outside.

“I’ll see you all at Door-2-Door tomorrow. Try to talk to the volunteers as much as you can while you work. See how they interact with the clients. Watch where they go inside the house if they suddenly separate from you,” Savannah advised as she accepted Jake’s arm. “I hope to have some information to share with you come Sunday morning. Jake and I are calling on Leo Saturday night.”

“You’re a brave woman,” Bryant said.

Jake scowled. “Hey, I’ll be there, too, remember?”

“With your vanload of pipes!” Trish laughed.

The friends exchanged good nights and dispersed, but Cooper and Nathan lingered behind.

“What’s on your mind?” Nathan asked, slipping his arm around Cooper’s waist.

Cooper looked into his kind brown eyes. “I know that letting the police look for the Civil War stuff in Frank’s house is the right decision, but I just can’t hand it over without seeing it for myself. I want to understand the man who died. I want to be able to give his son some answers. I promised that I’d keep him updated, and it feels wrong to just pass the buck and leave him hanging.” She stepped back and declared, “I’m going over there tonight. To Frank’s house.”

Nathan didn’t reply right away, but his expression betrayed his internal conflict. He searched her face for a few moments and then, finally, he nodded. “You aren’t going alone.”

“We can take my car.” Cooper smiled gratefully. “I have two flashlights in my toolbox.”

• • •

They drove to Frank’s house without speaking, letting the easy-listening station fill the silence. As they headed east on the interstate, Cooper noted a bank of ominous thunderclouds in her rearview mirror. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as the memory of her dream of being caught on the rushing river toward a deadly storm returned to her with fresh intensity.

Unlike in her dream, however, Cooper was moving away from the storm at a rapid pace. Still, she knew that once they reached Frank’s house and spent time searching inside for the sword and diary, it wouldn’t take long for the cloud mass to catch up.

Feeling on edge, Cooper gazed out at the blue-black highway, trying not to pay attention to how much the road resembled a meandering river or that the dark trees encroaching toward the shoulder looked awfully similar to the sinister pines from her nightmare.

By the time she brought her truck to a stop two blocks away from Frank Crosby’s sad white house, a persistent breeze had sprung to life, carrying with it the scent of rain. Cooper retrieved the flashlights and she and Nathan walked hurriedly toward the house, looking over their shoulders as they advanced. Nathan headed straight for the front door, but Cooper grabbed his arm and shook her head.

“No. Around back.”

Nathan followed her through the overgrown grass bordering the chain-link fence dividing Frank’s property from the adjacent house. As they passed between the two bungalows, Cooper noted the illuminated window on the side of the next-door neighbor’s home. The consistent flickering light and intermittent sounds of canned laughter suggested that its occupants were watching television. Based on the volume of the set, Cooper felt confident that there was little chance the neighbors would overhear any activity taking place inside Frank’s house.