The Root of All Evil (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 4) (6 page)

“Um . . . yes,” Savannah replied. “Have we met?”

“No, but Principal Matthews has told me all about you! He said I ought to talk to you about being a guest speaker in my art class, but I had no idea who you were . . . But here you are!”

Cooper smiled. “Savannah, you’d be great as a guest speaker. You should do it.”

Savannah blushed. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d have much to offer.”

“From what Principal Matthews says, I’m sure you’ve got plenty to offer,” Sylvia said. “Now that I know who you are, we’ll talk later, and I’ll try to convince you.” She glanced at her watch. “In the meantime, I’m in dire need of sugar, and I’m hoping you can help me out.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Cooper said. “We have all the fixings for a grade-A sugar high.”

Sylvia licked her lips, her eyes taking in the snack table. “That’s quite a selection you folks have!”

“Thanks! Our other baker and the keeper of the fruit punch are off getting ice out of the kitchen. Quinton—the baker—made the cupcakes.”

“And did you make the cookies?”

“No, no. They’re Magnolia’s Marvels.”

Sylvia took one of the salted caramel banana cookies. “I
love
Magnolia’s Marvels!”

“I’ll tell my mama you said so.”

Sylvia paused mid-bite and wiped a crumb from her lip. “Your mother is Magnolia of Magnolia’s Marvels?” She eyed Cooper’s athletic shape. “If my mama made cookies like this, I’d weigh three hundred pounds!”

Cooper laughed. “Wait until you try the cupcakes.”

Sylvia tasted the white chocolate and coconut cake and looked as though all of her stress disappeared. “Did you all come here straight from heaven?”

“From Hope Street Church,” Cooper replied. “Pastor Matthews—or
Principal
Matthews to you, I guess—he asked if our Bible study would bring snacks and staff the table.”

“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job of it.”

“I’m glad you think so. The students are limited to one of each tonight, but I’m guessing, since you’re staff, you can have as much as you like.”

“That’s a dangerous offer,” Sylvia said with a laugh. It was then that Cooper noticed the dark bags under her eyes and the slight shake in her hands as she gratefully accepted a plate of cookies and cupcakes. Sylvia’s eyes welled. “You have no idea how much I needed this. It’s been a long week.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Cooper replied. Sylvia looked as though she might fall over right where she stood. “Anything we can do to help?”

For a moment Sylvia stood still, as if she didn’t quite comprehend what Cooper was saying. Then, quietly, she said, “You really mean that.”

Cooper nodded, taken aback by the woman’s apparent disbelief. “Sure. Anything. Do you want to talk?”

Sylvia took a deep breath and donned a tired smile. “I don’t think so, but I appreciate the offer.” She took a bite of Maggie’s hot chocolate-chocolate chip cookies. “And I
really
appreciate these. I’ll be back for seconds later.”

“I’ll save you some.”

The art teacher disappeared down the hall just as a small crowd of students and parents arrived, and Quinton and Jake returned to the table with a silver ice bucket filled to the brim.

“Looks like you barely made it,” Savannah commented.

Jake wiped his forehead and sighed dramatically. “Thought we might not make it at all!”

For the next hour, Cooper and Quinton passed out the sweets while Jake and Savannah manned the beverages. Parents followed their children to the snack table, and while the students chatted among themselves, the parents talked to the Sunrise Bible Study team. The guests arrived in waves, stopped for food and then headed back to classrooms as a new group came in. Teachers peeked into the hallway to greet the newcomers before disappearing once more to talk to the parents in their classrooms. Some students prattled on about the art and science projects they had on display, while others rolled their eyes, reluctantly following their parents around.

Finally there came a lull. Cooper left Quinton in charge of the goodies and headed back toward the restroom. The hallways were alive with the sounds of talking and laughter. Cooper peered into the classrooms as she passed to see parents gathered around the teachers and students standing in groups, giggling and gossiping. Surprisingly, the line for the women’s restroom was short, and when Cooper emerged, she heard, above the regular chatter, a very unpleasant sound. An angry voice drifted out of the classroom across the hall from the restroom.

“. . . a new kind of low even for you, and that’s saying something.” Cooper recognized Sylvia’s voice. “Because I can’t afford it, and you know it! . . . I don’t see why it’s my problem anyway . . . No, don’t do that! I’ll . . . I’ll see what I can do. But don’t you ever do this to me again.”

The conversation stopped. Cooper tiptoed to the door to see if everything was all right, and as she looked into the room she saw Sylvia staring at the underside of a glazed pot. “Maybe you’ll do,” she mused aloud, a mournful look on her face. Unsure what Sylvia was talking about, Cooper cleared her throat loudly at the door, and Sylvia looked up.

“How’s Parent Night treating you?” Cooper asked, offering the teacher a kind smile.

Sylvia replaced the pot on its rack. She looked even more ragged than earlier in the evening. “I’m enjoying it. Students just love to bring their parents in and show them all their art projects. Regardless of what they think of me the rest of the year, on Parent Night I’m usually painted as a favorite teacher since I give them a way to show off to their folks.” She laughed at the thought. “I don’t usually have to talk much, except to assure parents that all the children are creative and well-behaved.”

“Are they?”

“Some are both. Some are creative but ill-behaved, and the rest are well-behaved but couldn’t do something creative if their lives depended on it. I’m hoping some gentle flattery will increase the donations this year.”

“I heard that the school isn’t doing well financially.”

Sylvia sat in one of the student desks, rubbing away the exhaustion in her eyes. “That’s an understatement. If we don’t get money soon, the school may have to close its doors.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and then slowly slid it away. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I’m so sorry. That is
not
meant for everyone to know.”

“It’s all right,” Cooper assured her. “What’s said in the art room stays in the art room.”

Sylvia emitted a relieved sigh. “Thanks.”

Cooper took a seat in the desk beside the teacher. “I knew the school was having some trouble, but I didn’t realize it was so serious.”

“Only a few of us do. That’s why I shouldn’t have said what I said. It just . . . came out.”

“Well, I didn’t hear a thing. But if I did, I might say that I hope your flattery of students is successful.”

Sylvia nodded gratefully. “The same goes for your cookies and cupcakes.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Cooper asked. “You’re tied to this room, but I’ve got backup at the snack table. You’re looking a little tired, too. I’d be glad to bring you some coffee or something.”

The teacher considered her request. “If you mean it . . .”

“Sure I do.”

Sylvia rose, walked to her desk and returned a moment later with a piece of paper. “I made a little ‘About This Class’ flier for the parents, and I’ve run out. The copy machine in the teachers’ lounge is broken. Do you have a minute to take it to Pastor Matthews’s office and make copies? Fifty should do it. I know he won’t mind.”

“I can handle that,” Cooper replied, smiling kindly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Cooper took the paper and hurried over to Pastor Matthews’s office, catching him on his way out of the room. “Hey! Pastor Matthews!”

Pastor Matthews greeted her with a smile. He was a kind and humble man with an honest face and a slight hunch to his shoulders. “Good evening, Cooper. Do you need something?”

“I told Sylvia—your art teacher—that I’d make copies of this for her. Mind if I use your copier?”

Pastor Matthews opened his office door and waved her inside. “My copy machine is your copy machine.”

He turned on the lights. His office was a large room, modestly furnished with a desk and a sitting area on the opposite side of the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, stacked with volumes on theology interspersed with framed photographs and souvenirs from the pastor’s trips overseas. The copy machine sat behind the desk, beside a safe. The machine was new.

“It was a donation,” Pastor Matthews commented as Cooper admiringly studied the machine. “I’ve had it for about six months.”

Cooper’s inner repairman took control, and she squatted beside the machine to see behind it. The panels were clean and tightly affixed. The cables were properly wrangled—not knotted together. “This one’s in great shape. Who donated it?”

“A business downtown. It was great timing, really. My older machine died, and that same day a rep from the company stopped by and asked if I’d like a new copier.”

“Sounds more like
miraculous
timing.”

“Tell me about it. Now, with the copier in the teachers’ lounge on the fritz, we may need to move this one so the teachers can use it.”

Cooper placed the flier on the copier surface, set the machine to fifty copies and pressed the start button. “What’s wrong with the other copier?”

Pastor Matthews shrugged. “Not sure exactly. I’ve taken a look inside a few times, but I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. Truth be told, I’m not the most tech-savvy person.”

Cooper stood and turned to face the pastor with a smile. “You know, I just
happen
to be familiar with these machines.”

“You are? Really?”

“I work at Make It Work! This is kind of my area of expertise, actually. I’d be glad to take a look sometime, if you like. Pro bono, of course.”

“Would you? Anything you can do to keep it in working order would be terrific!”

“I make no guarantees,” Cooper explained. “But I’ll do what I can. No need for you to spend money getting it fixed if you don’t have to.”

Pastor Matthews crossed over to Cooper and gave her a quick friendly hug. “Coop, I’d really appreciate it. That was just one more thing on my plate to take care of.”

Cooper checked the copier. Only a few more pages to go. “I’m glad I can help. And if I can’t get the other machine working, I bet I could get you a good deal on a lease through Make It Work!”

Pastor Matthews laughed. “You’re quite the salesman, aren’t you?”

“I just know my boss wouldn’t forgive me if I let an opportunity pass me by. Actually, it’s not my boss, it’s his assistant.
She’s
the salesman.” Cooper took the copies and tapped the edges on top of the machine to straighten out the stack. “On behalf of Sylvia, thanks for the use of your copier.”

Pastor Matthews walked her to the door and locked it behind him. “You tell her she’s welcome . . . And maybe by next week she’ll be able to use the teachers’ lounge copier again!”

Cooper returned to the art room to find Sylvia standing alone while a student showed his parents a watercolor painting hanging on the wall. Sylvia came to the door to meet her.

“Thank you
so
much,” the teacher said, taking the copies. “I owe you one.”

“Nah. You gave me a break from the food table; I may still owe you. Is there anything else I can help with? Do you want to talk about anything?”

Sylvia shook her head. She looked a little happier now that she had students in the room, and Cooper sensed it was time to leave the teacher to her work.

“If you change your mind,” Cooper said, “I’d be
more than happy
to take another break.”

She left Sylvia with a smile.

• • •

Saturday could have been a lazy day. There was nothing that needed to be done, and Cooper was tempted to stay in her pajamas, play with her cats—Miriam and Moses—and watch TV with her grammy. But the night before, just as she was falling asleep, she got the idea that it would be fun to make a haunted birdhouse for Halloween. She hadn’t spent much time building since she’d made Nathan a
Star Wars
TIE fighter birdhouse for Christmas, and she was feeling the itch.

So, instead of sleeping in and doing nothing on Saturday, Cooper woke up early, got dressed and headed to the hardware store to get supplies. She could picture the birdhouse in her mind as vividly as if she were staring at the finished product: faux shingles on a steep roof, a spire off one corner, a little graveyard in the front, dark browns and grays. It took a good two hours at the store to find the right materials, and by the time she got home, Cooper was ready for a snack.

She snagged a sandwich from the kitchen and ate it while she walked outside. It was a beautiful day—not too cool, but not too warm. The sky was more or less clear. Columbus watched her with interest as she passed by.

“Having a good day?” she asked the hawk quietly, pausing to stand in front of his cage. Columbus ruffled his white and tawny feathers. “I’ll take you for a walk later. Promise.”

Cooper continued walking and stepped inside the greenhouse. She swallowed the last bite of her sandwich, reached for the hose and started to water the plants, thinking of the last time she was out here. It was the Sunday she’d walked with Nathan before dessert with her family, when he’d acted so strangely. With that memory, the image of Nathan popped into her head. What possible explanation was there for his reaction to the trouble Ashley was going through for the sake of her baby?

She’d tried not to think about it, but now, among the plants, with nothing to distract her, Cooper couldn’t seem to think about anything else. They hadn’t talked about their relationship in a while. Cooper kept assuming that if Nathan wanted to talk, he would.

Is he even interested anymore?
she asked herself.
Or am I expecting too much too fast?

It had been more than a year since they’d begun dating officially. A whole year. No hints at proposals or moving in together, and they still hadn’t moved ahead in the physical side of the relationship. What if Nathan didn’t find her attractive or desirable anymore?