The Way of the Wicked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 2) (16 page)

While the coffee percolated, all eyes remained fastened on Quinton as he set out diminutive silver spoons next to the ramekins and displayed porcelain cups and saucers in a neat rectangle to the right of the creamers. Steam erupted from the top of the coffee carafe and surrounded Quinton’s head in a halo of thin mist.

“Quinton, I could watch you all day,” Nathan said. “And you’re just brewing coffee. I can’t fathom how magical it must be to watch you bake.”

“Less quiet,” Quinton replied, his round face pink with pleasure over Nathan’s compliment. “I always bake to classical music. The big symphonies in particular. Dvorak’s
New World
is my favorite.”

While the last hiccups emanated from the coffeemaker, Quinton retrieved a set of glass shakers from his cupboard. “I have cinnamon, nutmeg, or dark chocolate curls should you like a little something extra in your coffee.”

“Would you marry me?” Bryant asked and then offered to prepare a cup for Savannah. Once they were all armed with caffeine, Quinton led them into his living room. Nathan volunteered to type any relevant information on the Door-2-Door volunteers into his laptop.

An hour later, the coffee cups were drained, the brownies were gone, and Nathan had created a master list summarizing their findings.

“I can hook this up to your printer and make copies for everyone,” Nathan said, and by the time Trish and Bryant had loaded Quinton’s dishwasher with the lunch items, Cooper held the summary in her hands. She read it over carefully.

Warren
—Courier for LabTech. Likes to go to garage sales on weekends. Bachelor. Lives with his grandma Helen on family farm in Louisa. She has Alzheimer’s. Warren volunteers at D2D Fridays and Saturdays. Has been there for over a year. Dresses in casual, inexpensive clothes, and is careful with his appearance. Drives a Toyota Corolla (not new, but very clean). A bit reserved but seems content.

Erik
—Retired principal. Divorcé in his early seventies. Attractive. Good sense of humor. Lives on pension. Seems determined not to move from current D2D route. Flirts with female volunteers and D2D staff. Freely admits to wanting a wife, especially one who’d be willing to be in charge of the household tasks. Loves lake fishing by himself and enjoys playing Internet poker late at night. Drives an aged SUV rigged with fishing pole holders.

Brenda
—Works as a cashier at Kroger. Finds her job tiring. Young son Darik is a bookworm. She really wants him to go to a private school outside the city because she thinks his district is populated by young gangsters. She worries her son is not getting the education he’ll need to earn a college scholarship. She barely makes enough to feed and house them. Volunteers at D2D because she feels blessed and wants to pass that on by delivering food and friendship. When Brenda was out of earshot, Darik said that his daddy was shot in the chest and killed. Was likely a criminal. Brenda drives a rusty, dented Caddy.

Madge
—Sweet, rather fragile woman in her late sixties. Imagines herself in similar position to those D2D serves—a bit lonely and without family nearby. Retired nurse. One daughter who lives in London as a stage actress—she is wild and has had issues with drug and alcohol abuse. Madge doesn’t think she can count on her to care for her when she gets old. Seems a bit afraid of everything. Works at D2D because she and Penny go to same church and Penny convinced her to come. She’s glad that Penny asked her, as she doesn’t have much going on other than church functions. Misses excitement of hospital work. Drives a Saturn sedan.

Penny
—Works part-time selling ad space for mailbox coupons. Married an older man who died and has two sons, both of whom are well off. One is a dentist and the other a hematologist. Both live outside of D.C. and are very busy with their own families and work. She says she’s addicted to QVC and has gotten into hot water buying things from the show. Admits to getting lonely. She says D2D is a main part of her social life. She used to be more active with church groups but got tired of the bossy ladies there. Too much like a high school clique, she says. Drives a station wagon.

Campbell
—D2D kitchen manager. Always has Mondays off. Rides his Harley-Davidson to the beach as much as he can. Has a serious crush on a female bartender there who’s been rejecting his advances for over a year. He’s determined to win her heart by Christmas by “doing something big.” Wouldn’t say more. Loves his job. Is very close to his parents, who live in Petersburg. Says the D2D clients are all like the grandparents he never knew.

Leo
—Forced to work at D2D as part of court sentence. Started in the middle of summer. Angry. Violent tattoos. Doesn’t have a car. Uses bus to get to D2D. Job? Hobbies? Family?

Cooper jotted several notes on her sheet of paper as she read. She then reviewed the document one more time, doing her best to pretend that the names listed there belonged to strangers instead of the amiable group of volunteers.

“What are you circling?” Nathan asked.

“We should consider the possibility that the killer is motivated by money.” She held up her hand before anyone could protest. “I know that sounds strange in a way because the Door-2-Door victims were poor, but if these aren’t mercy killings, then what else could the killer’s motive be?” Cooper ruminated out loud. “I’m circling any signs that the volunteers have financial issues.”

“Good thinking.” Jake nodded. “We can circle Erik right off. If he’s playing poker on the Internet, he could be deep in the hole. My brother got sucked into one of those cyber-money pits a few years ago. He’d come home from work, type in his credit card number, and boom!” He clapped his hands together for emphasis. “Six months later my sister-in-law finds out that he’s taken a second mortgage on the house. Man, he slept on the couch for a
long
time after that!”

“I bet.” Trish smirked. “I hate to be the one to point it out, but Brenda has a motive, too. She wants her son to go to private school, and the tuition is
very
expensive. Why, if my business weren’t doing so well, my girls would be going to our local school for certain.” She shook off the objectionable idea of her progeny attending public school. “There isn’t much a mother won’t do to ensure a good future for her child, and Brenda’s Kroger paycheck is not going to change Darik’s future. Selling pricey jewelry or gold coins to a pawnbroker could add up over time, assuming that’s what the killer is doing.”

“I hate to circle anyone on this list.” Quinton sighed despondently. “But Penny might be in debt due to her QVC sprees. Campbell may also be trying to accumulate a big pile of money to buy some . . .” He turned to Bryant. “What do teenagers call pricey jewelry these days?”

“Bling,” Bryant replied authoritatively. “He might hope to dazzle his girlfriend with some bling.”

“Madge could be trying to stockpile a nest egg for her old age,” Nathan added. “She seems fearful of being unable to care for herself and is truly terrified of the idea of a nursing home.”

“Can’t say that I blame her,” Cooper murmured, grateful that Grammy was safely established in the Lee house. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Grammy got sick. None of the Lees had medical training and could never afford to hire a full-time nurse. Even Ashley’s coffers might not be full enough to prevent Grammy from entering into an assisted-living program. Feeling grim, Cooper returned her attention to their suspect list. “Warren may want extra money, too,” she said, her face flushing with guilt as she recalled how pleasant it had been to dance with him. “His grandma has Alzheimer’s and must need special care during the day. He’s at work, so someone must be looking after her.”

“Everyone on this list needs money! We’re getting nowhere,” Jake muttered darkly.

“We need to look at this from a different angle,” Savannah said. “Because what’s especially difficult here is that no one appears to be spending any money. From what I’ve heard, the volunteers dress in inexpensive clothes, wear little or no jewelry, and drive fairly old cars. They take care of what they have and try hard to make ends meet.” She rubbed her chin in thought. “Whoever is committing these crimes has a way to sell the stolen items and hide the cash earned from these sales.”

“Like hiding it in the hen coop.” Cooper was reminded of where Grammy’s parents hid their money instead of entrusting it to the bank. “I wonder if this person wants to acquire a certain amount or if they’re going to just keep going, even though the police are involved now.” She shook her head. There were no easy answers. No obvious clues. “I think we’re going to have to wait and see what drugs were in Mr. Crosby’s body. Then we can narrow down our suspect list to a person who has access to drugs
and
needs cash.”

Nathan walked to the window overlooking a grassy hill belonging to the cemetery. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he paced back and forth, his reflection in the large panel of glass flickering as his body passed through the curtain of sunlight.

“It could take weeks for Mr. Crosby’s test results to come back. I know Lali’s told the police that her clients are being deliberately sent to their graves, but if we stand by and wait for them to get test results, another person could fall victim to the Door-2-Door killer before an arrest is made. We need to find out what Mr. Crosby’s most valuable possession was. It would be the freshest clue.”

“But there’s only one person we could ask. Frank Crosby’s son.” Bryant grimaced. “And I can’t be seen hanging around a prison. I have a reputation to consider.”

“Me, too!” Trish echoed, placing her hand over her heart as though the very idea of being seen with an inmate would cause her business to go up in flames.

Nathan turned from the window and looked intently at Cooper. “I’ll visit his son.”

Cooper felt a rush of tenderness sweep through her. She knew that Nathan was offering to do this because he wanted to solve the mystery of the older man’s death, but also because he knew how saddened Cooper was over the news that Mr. Crosby had been found dead. “You won’t be alone,” she whispered as if they were the only two people in the room. “I’ll be with you.”

“The rest of us should focus our attention elsewhere,” Savannah told the rest of the group. “Quinton, you see what you can find out about everyone’s financial situation. Perhaps you can call them under the guise of recommending solid investment strategies.”

Quinton nodded his head in agreement. “Actually, I might be able to help them save more judiciously. Every penny counts and I’m sure very few of them have spoken to a financial consultant about how to make the most of their money.” He held out his hands. “I just hope I don’t aid the murderer too much.”

“You’ll just have to take a chance with your kindness,” Savannah said with a smile. “Trish, you keep in contact with Lali. If she hears anything from the police, let us know.” Savannah fell silent, pulling the length of her long black braid through her right hand over and over as she ruminated.

“What about me?” Jake asked, looking hurt.

“I need you with me,” Savannah replied and Jake sat up straighter. “You and I are going to pay a visit to Leo. Since he didn’t come to our little party, we’re going to bring one to him.”

Looking uncertain, Jake mumbled, “I’d better make sure I have a thick metal pipe in the back of the Mr. Faucet van. You never know how these parties will end.”

• • •

The next day, Cooper was struggling to replace the fuser assembly on a Canon copier when her cell phone rang. Since her hands were dirty, she ignored the melodious burst of her phone’s “Love Me Do” ring. When it began to ring again, the Beatles crooning rather loudly in boisterous harmony, the manager of the clothing store swiveled around in her chair and frowned.

“Can I get that for you?” she asked Cooper acerbically, tapping her pencil with impatience. “I’m trying to fill out my hours schedule and I can’t do the math when I’m distracted.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” Cooper hastily wiped her hands with a rag, grabbed her phone, and stepped out the back door, which was reserved for deliveries, smoke breaks, and banished service people, such as herself.

Noting that both calls had come from Ashley, Cooper immediately grew annoyed. “
Some
of us have jobs!” she blurted when her sister answered the phone.

There was a moment of silence. “Coop. I need a favor.”

Surprised by Ashley’s tone, which was uncommonly quiet and edging toward timidity, Cooper quickly agreed.

“I have an appointment with Dr. Easter this afternoon,” Ashley said. “He’s the foremost infertility doctor in Richmond.”

“I thought you decided to give yourself more time before seeing a specialist,” Cooper said.

Ashley sighed mournfully. “The time it takes most couples has come and gone. Something’s wrong, Cooper. I can feel it inside and I need to know what the problem is. I’m going to get one of those 3-D ultrasounds this afternoon and Lincoln won’t, well, he can’t . . .” She trailed off.

“Of course I’ll come.”

“You won’t even miss any work,” Ashley hurriedly added. “I took the last appointment of the day so Lincoln wouldn’t have to cut his weekly staff meeting short, but now he says he has some Fall Madness Sale coming up and has to be around to fire up his salesmen.” She sniffed. “I can’t believe he thinks that talking one of his employees into wearing a werewolf suit for Halloween is more important than us having a baby. I need to see Dr. Easter, but I just couldn’t go alone, Coop. I’m scared.”

Trying to suppress the anger she felt toward Lincoln for being so unsupportive of her sister, Cooper kicked at the concrete wall she was leaning against with the point of her black boot. “Don’t be. Everything’s going to be all right. I’ll even hold your hand if you want me to.”

“Gross!” Ashley uttered a theatrical squeal. “I don’t want grease all over me!” She let loose a small giggle. “Besides, who knows what parts of me are going to be exposed. Your neck would be red as a fire truck!”