The Root of All Evil (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 4) (31 page)

Will stepped out of Mr. Farmer’s office and approached them, all smiles. “You must be Angela,” he said, extending a friendly hand. “I’m Officer Brayden.”

“Mmm,” Angela hummed, accepting his firm handshake. “Yes, you are. Cooper’s told me so much about you.”

“She’s told me a lot about you, too. You have a loyal friend in Ms. Lee . . . But I thought you weren’t going to be in the office for a few days.”

Cooper chimed in. “Angela came to be fingerprinted.”

“In that case, please follow me,” Brayden said. “I have the fingerprinting station all set up in Mr. Farmer’s office.”

Cooper started to follow, but Angela spun around and looked her square in the eyes. “I’m sure you have work to do, Coop, and I think Officer Brayden and I can handle the fingerprinting on our own.”

“Yes, I do, and I’m sure you can,” Cooper replied. “But I’m afraid of what you might ask if the two of you are alone.”

Angela chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t scare him off.”

She and Officer Brayden disappeared into Mr. Farmer’s office, and Cooper grudgingly went back to her own office to try and finish some of the work she’d been unable to concentrate on earlier. A good half hour later, Will poked his head in.

“You busy?” he asked.

“I should be.” Cooper saved the document she was working on and stood to say good-bye to Officer Brayden. “I take it you’re all finished here.”

“I have everything I need. I’m all packed up, too. That Angela is sure an inquisitive person.”

“I don’t even want to know what she asked you.”

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t anything too terrible. I got the impression she’d have liked to stay longer and chat, but she said she needed to leave to ‘keep up appearances.’ She gave that boss of yours the cold shoulder.”

“She’s in a tough place. So is he. They’re just trying to get through this without falling apart.”

Will strode up to her desk. “I’m glad you called me.”

Cooper felt the familiar warmth creeping up her neck. “It was for Angela’s sake.”

“I know, but I’m still glad.” Will’s voice was soft. He came around the desk and stood face-to-face with Cooper. “I was afraid I’d scared you at the station.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Cooper insisted as the heat grew stronger. “You took me by surprise, and I have a boyfriend.”

Will leaned in so his lips were just inches from Cooper’s. His eyes lingered on her mouth and snapped up to meet her gaze. He whispered, “I can be very patient when I want to be.”

As Cooper’s willpower drained away and she started to lean in, Will stepped back.

“I’ll let you know when I have something,” he said, turned around and walked away.

• • •

With Nathan still apparently needing “time” and with Will offering open arms, Cooper fell into her truck after work Friday exhausted, confused and conflicted. She needed someone to talk to: not the Bible study group, because they were friends of Nathan; not Angela, because she obviously thought sex was the solution to any relationship problem; and not Ms. Donna, because Cooper had opened up as much as she cared to for the time being.

So even though she felt a little guilty bothering her pregnant sister, Cooper drove over to the Love house, hoping that Ashley felt like having company.

She rapped on the front door a little too hard, hurting her knuckles. “Anybody home?”

A few seconds later, Rhonda opened the door, a quilting magazine in hand. “Evenin’. I take it you’re here to see Ashley?”

“Selfishly, yes. I need some girl time. Good magazine?”

Rhonda shrugged. “It’s all right. My ‘loud breathing’ was irritating your sister too much, so I thought it best to wait in the other room until she calmed down.”

Cooper peered past the nurse and toward the hallway, as if it were a cave that was home to an unknown beast. “Is it safe? Or should I come back later?”

“She’ll
probably
be glad to see you, but I can’t guarantee it.” Rhonda laughed. “All I’ll say for certain is, enter at your own risk.”

Cooper entered the house and went straight to the master bedroom. She poked her head around the corner and knocked at the door. Ashley, buried in a mountain of pillows and flipping through TV channels, turned at the sound.

“Coop? Is that you? I can’t see over my nest.”

“It’s me. You look comfortable.”

Ashley pushed herself up, frowning. “Comfortable? That’s the last word I’d ever use to describe this. What brings you here?”

Cooper ventured in farther, trying to gauge her sister’s mood. “Is this a bad time?”

“No!” Ashley exclaimed, muting the TV. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m
so bored,
Cooper! You have no idea how boring this is.”

“I can imagine.”

Ashley shook her head. “You cannot imagine, Cooper. It’s not like being sick, when you know that in a couple of days you’ll be able to be up and around. I have to stay off my feet all the time, and it’ll easily be another month before it’s over! To make matters worse, I’m so nervous, because if I do have to get up and walk around I might be risking my child’s life. I’ve got this boredom/exhaustion/anxiety thing going on.” She stopped and sighed. “It’s horrible! I want this baby out!”

Cooper sat on the bed and held Ashley’s hand. “Just a little while longer, sis. I know you can do it.”

“What choice do I have? This is all Lincoln’s fault.”

“Naturally.”

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Ashley crossed her arms over her massive belly. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

Cooper met her sister’s gaze without so much as a hint of a smile. “I’m taking you very seriously, Ash. I promise. Considering your current state, I’ll try to give you as little grief as possible. But isn’t there anything . . .
good?
Anything positive about the experience?”

Ashley started to shake her head, but then her eyes lit up. “Wait! Yes! You know I told you about that painting I bought—the one from the up-and-coming artist. It came!” Ashley pointed to a framed monstrosity in the corner. “Take a look!”

Cooper took a step toward the massive picture, which was almost her height and nearly as wide. It was an oil painting of an abstract, burnt umber face over a sickly yellow green background. Blotches of blue and gray and pale white streaks surrounded the face. Cooper grimaced so her sister couldn’t see and then turned, smiling and nodding. “It’s great!”

“You hate it.”

“I just . . . don’t quite understand it. Does it have a name or something that might explain the concept?”

“It’s called
Wretch
.”

Cooper looked again at the painting and tilted her head to try and see it from a slightly different angle, wondering if Ashley meant “wretch” or “retch.” She wasn’t sure if the face was that of a wretch, if the face was retching, or if most viewers retched after seeing it. Or perhaps the name
Retch
described the color palette. “Do you really like it?”

“It’s not my favorite,” Ashley replied. “I prefer something with a little more life and color, but the painter is going to be famous one of these days. Anything new in your life?”

Cooper laughed. “I was hoping you’d ask that.” She went on to relate the drama surrounding Will Brayden and her doubts about Nathan. Ashley hung on every word.

When Cooper was done, all Ashley could say was, “Wow. What a story!”

“Anything useful to say?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe you talked to some random lady at your church before you talked to me! Your own sister!”

“You’ve been kinda busy lately.”

Ashley gave her a look. “Busy? I’ve been sitting in bed watching the shopping channel and reading books. I’d hardly call that busy. Is this because I’ve been emotional?”

Cooper dared not say yes. “Emotional?
No
. I just didn’t want to bother you with something so trivial, Ash. You say you’re not busy, but you’re growing a human being inside of you. That’s hard work. You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about my love life.”

“But I
want
to worry about your love life! It’s a wonderful escape from my own problems. I worry about everything from whether I’ll make it to the bathroom before I pee to whether my baby will be safe. Give me something romantic to worry about. Please!”

“All right. Help me with my love life!”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Ashley adjusted the pillows around her midsection and continued. “I have one question for you. Do you really like Will Brayden?”

Cooper thought. “I’m attracted to him, but I’d rather Nathan look at me the way Will does, like he’s wholeheartedly overwhelmed by me . . . like he loves me so much he can’t stand it.”

“Of course you want Nathan to make your hands sweat and your heart go pitter patter. You want him to feel the same way about you. There’s nothing wrong with that, but sweaty hands and heart palpitations aren’t love. Look at me now. Half the time I’m mad at Lincoln because he breathed wrong and half the time I feel guilty because I was mad at him. I’m sweaty, not because I’m turned on by my husband, but because I’m pregnant and hot and want to take off all my clothes and jump into a vat of ice water. If my heart starts skipping beats I need to call the doctor, because it means something is very wrong medically.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t expect music and fireworks with Nathan?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Ashley replied. “Do you know what Lincoln told me the other day? I hadn’t showered for three days; I’d eaten chili, so I had the worst gas in the world; and I’d spent the afternoon crying, so my face was puffy and red. He looked at me and my giant stomach, smiled and told me that I was the most beautiful woman in the world. He said that he sometimes couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found me. There I was, sitting in my own flatulence, and he was convinced he’d hit the jackpot. That’s love, Coop. For a few seconds, I forgot how horrible I felt, and it was like when we were dating. I adored him, and he adored me.”

“Flatulence aside, that’s a beautiful story,” Cooper said. “But I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell me.”

Ashley sighed. “Are you willing to wait while Nathan figures things out?”

Cooper nodded. “I hope he figures things out soon.”

“Then whatever he tells you, remember that really being into each other is more than just physical attraction. You know I’ve been rooting for you and Nathan to take that next step, but that’s because I thought you were happy and ready for it. You should never sleep with him because you think it’ll fix a problem.”

Cooper laughed. “Ms. Donna said the same thing, more or less. I guess I’ll wait and see what Nathan has to say. He and I can figure things out from there.”

Ashley nodded approvingly. “Good call. Remember, relationships aren’t short-term deals. They’re long-term investments.”

“Like that painting you bought?” Cooper didn’t at all understand wanting to display the monstrosity, but she did understand the long-term potential. “It’s an investment piece.”

“Exactly! If Nathan wants to make it work, and you realize you love each other wholeheartedly, you can look forward to many years of that love paying off. And when Yuri Varoff makes it big, his signature on that painting is going to make me a lot of money!”

“Thanks for the talk. And as for your future investment money, I’m very happy for you.” Cooper stared again at the horrible painting. It was so awful that she couldn’t stop looking once she started. The colors, the shapes, even the signature haphazardly scribbled in the corner. “Yuri V” with an oversized Y and V.

“I wonder why artists choose to sign things the way they do,” Cooper pondered aloud. “Why can’t they just sign their names normally?”

“Because they’re artists,” Ashley answered matter-of-factly. “It’s just what they do. The signature is part of the artwork, and it’s an important part.”

Cooper tore her gaze away from the monstrosity. “I never thought about the creativity of the signature being important.” She paused. The signature. “That’s what we need to look at!” she cried excitedly. “The signature!”

“I wouldn’t
only
look at the signature,” Ashley argued, still engaged by her Yuri Varoff painting. “The painting itself is important, too. I mean, I don’t love his style, but it’s unique.”

Cooper shook her head. “Not this painting, Ashley. I’m talking about the signature on the sketch we found. We thought the subject of the picture was important, but it wasn’t, and I couldn’t figure out why someone would kill and steal that sketch. It’s the signature. It has to be. Someone was trying to conceal the artist!”

Cooper kissed her sister on the forehead and then crossed the floor in two long steps. “I owe you!”

“Owe me what?”

“I’ll be right back. I’ve got to make a phone call.” Cooper hurried out of the room and dialed Pastor Matthews’s office number.

“Hope Street Christian Academy. This is Pastor Matthews speaking.”

“Pastor Matthews! This is Cooper Lee. Is there any way I could get into Sylvia’s storage locker?”

“What for?”

“You remember my theory about the picture on the copy machine?” she asked, and then continued without waiting for a response. “Well, the image that Sylvia copied that night was a sketch, and I think if I can figure out who drew it, we’ll be one step closer to justice for Sylvia.”

“You found a picture?”

“Yep.”

“Inspector McNamara said there was a problem with the USB drive. I think he used the word ‘corrupted.’ He said they couldn’t get any files off of it.”

“What? There were plenty of . . .” Cooper stopped herself, remembering what had happened the morning she’d downloaded the hard drive. She’d been so preoccupied with Officer Brayden and making her own copy that she must have ruined the copy intended for the police. “Tell you what, if I can get into that storage locker, and I find anything useful, I’ll let McNamara know about it.”

“So how is it that you have a copy of the hard drive but the police don’t?”

Cooper winced. She didn’t want to lie to Pastor Matthews about what had happened, so instead of giving an explanation, she replied, “Probably best if you don’t know the details.”