Read The Way of the Wicked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 2) Online
Authors: Ellery Adams
Tags: #cozy, #church, #Bible study, #romance, #charity, #mystery, #murder
The Way of the Wicked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 2) (36 page)
Cooper looked at her grandmother, who was shoveling pot roast into her mouth as though it were her last meal, and then flicked her gaze to her mother, who was assessing her husband from the corner of her eye. Cooper was about to suggest to her father that he might want to see a doctor when she heard the blast of Ashley’s horn.
“Ain’t she even gonna come in and say hello to her family?” Grammy frowned at Maggie. “You raised her better than that!”
Cooper noticed that her younger sister had been avoiding Grammy lately. Ashley wasn’t trying to be rude, but she already put so much pressure on herself over becoming pregnant that she couldn’t bear to hear anyone else raise the subject. Unfortunately, Grammy brought up the topic whenever she had the chance.
“We’re probably running late,” Cooper said hastily, covering for her sister. On impulse, she kissed her grandmother on the cheek and was warmed by the approval in her father’s smile. “Maybe I can start selling birdhouses, Daddy. Send you two on a vacation.”
“And go for days without seeing your pretty face? I’d rather be here at home.” Earl stacked his fork with butter beans. “Better get a move on. If your sister lays on that horn again, Grammy might run out there and give her what for.”
“Run?” Grammy laughed. She loved to be teased by her son. “You know I only pick up my pace when they’re handin’ out samples of chocolate at Costco.”
Cooper put on a long wool coat, buttoned it up to the neck, and exited the toasty house. Stepping into the dark night, she hunched her shoulders against the brisk winter wind and trotted over to Ashley’s Lexus. As soon as she opened the door, she was assaulted by the heady floral scent of her sister’s perfume. Ashley was dressed in a knee-length fur coat and brown leather boots with sharp heels.
“Is this real?” Cooper asked and placed a hesitant hand on her sister’s coat. “No wonder you didn’t want Grammy to see you! She would’ve had your head on a platter.”
“It’s faux sable, though it costs almost as much as the real thing. Isn’t that ridiculous? I should get a discount for being humane. And you know why I didn’t come inside.” Ashley accelerated on the empty road leading through the rural county where Cooper and the rest of the Lees lived. Watching the stark trees pass outside her window, Cooper suddenly longed to be back in her tiny apartment, laid out on her sofa beneath a thick afghan while Masterpiece Theater treated her to a Jane Austen remake.
“I know what you’re thinking over there,” Ashley said as if she were truly clairvoyant. “You’re already figuring on not having fun. Just because these women are married with kids does
not
mean they’re boring. And even though they have plenty of money in their wallets, they’re not necessarily shallow. So don’t feel intimidated by how they look.”
“How dressed up can they be? We’re all wearing pajamas, right?”
Ashley was too busy maneuvering the on-ramp to the interstate to answer right away. “What did you say?” she asked after merging directly into the center lane. “Who’s in pajamas?”
Cooper unbuttoned her coat to reveal her pink flannel top. “I am! Aren’t you?”
At first, Ashley looked horrified and then she began to laugh. The sound of her laughter overshadowed the music coming from the car’s speakers. “Oh, Coop!” she squealed. “You’ve already made this a night to remember! The girls are going to
love
you.”
Suddenly, Cooper reached over and yanked up the hem of her sister’s coat, revealing a white skirt embroidered with black flowers. “I totally misunderstood.” She gulped. “Turn around, Ashley. I need to change.”
“Not a chance. We’re late as it is and Georgia was adamant about people getting there before the show starts.”
Visualizing Chippendale dancers, a fog machine, and strobe lights, Cooper groaned, but when they entered Georgia Ferguson’s Spanish villa–style mansion fifteen minutes later, she was not surrounded by half-naked men, but by boisterous and cheerful women holding champagne glasses. To Cooper’s relief, they were dressed quite casually in pressed khakis and cotton blouses or simple skirts and sweater sets. Their jewelry, shoes, and handbags were expensive and elegant, yet understated, and they welcomed Cooper warmly. Twice, Georgia offered to take her coat, which Cooper refused to unbutton.
“My sister’s embarrassed because she thought she was supposed to
wear
pajamas tonight,” Ashley explained, pulling apart Cooper’s coat in order to allow her friend a glimpse of her sister’s ensemble.
“I think that’s a fabulous idea!” a woman wearing tight jeans and a lime-green turtleneck exclaimed. “I wish you had thought of that, Georgia. We could all be as comfy as this pretty lady is. Aren’t you clever!” She beamed at Cooper.
Another woman sidled up. “What
is
the evening’s entertainment, Georgia? You’ve been so mysterious about it.”
“You’re about to find out,” Georgia said with a wink.
Suddenly, music began to pump through the speakers in the spacious living room. Cooper recognized Lady Gaga’s latest dance song and tagged along behind a handful of women as they made their way to a row of folding chairs. A young woman dressed in black pants and a black blouse snapped her fingers in time to the music as she ushered stragglers to their seats.
Georgia stood in front of the chairs and grinned. “Thank you for coming to my first Pajama Party! As married women, we sometimes need to shake things up a bit, especially if you’ve known your other half as long as I’ve known mine. The way I see it? It’s our duty as wives to please our husbands and for our husbands to please us
.
So, in the name of marital bliss, I invite you to bring a little sizzle and a whole lot of
ooh-la-la
home to your hubby tonight. All purchases are private and will be conducted on a discreet, one-to-one basis in my kitchen. This is Lola.” Georgia gestured at the woman in black. “She’s given all of you order forms and pens. You’ll find them under your seats. Simply check off the items you’d like to buy as they are modeled for you. Now, is everyone armed with bubbly? Good, because this is not the time to be timid!”
A glass of champagne was shoved into Cooper’s hand. She took a grateful sip and, finally letting go of her coat, draped it over the back of her chair. The lights dimmed, the music was turned up a notch higher, and three voluptuous girls in their early twenties strutted into the room, wearing fishnet stockings and sexy silk nighties.
“Oh, my! I like the peach one!” A woman slid on a pair of reading glasses and uncapped her pen. “Would you look at that? They come in plus sizes, too. How nice! I can order one for my sister-in-law.”
The models did a brief twirl and then handed some of the ladies in the audience packets of panties to examine.
“Edible underwear!” One of the partygoers giggled. “Chocolate, strawberries and cream, vanilla caramel, and mocha. Charlie loves coffee. Should I try one?”
“Go for it, Dolores!” another woman coaxed her. “You heard what Georgia said. It’s our duty!” Both women laughed raucously.
The models returned wearing lacy bras and matching briefs. The women around Cooper muttered in approval over the ample coverage provided by the boy-cut briefs. “I thought this would be all about thongs and strapless bras. I could actually wear that outfit and not look too fat,” declared a woman Cooper believed was surely a size zero.
Pens scribbled on order pads. Cooper glanced shyly at the models and gulped her champagne, accepting a second glass from a tray that seemed to magically appear by her elbow just as she finished her first drink. The models were busily handing out black and red boxes labeled
Dirty Girl, Lover Girl,
and
Naughty Girl
. Each box contained a minuscule pair of panties, breath mints, a toothbrush, a condom, flavored body oil, a perfume sample, and two energy pills. The
Lover Girl
box also included a red feather and the
Naughty Girl
package came with a silk blindfold.
Cooper handed the boxes to her sister. “Are you getting any of these things?” she asked her while trying to get a clear view of the order pad on her lap.
Ashley shook her head. “I’m not feeling inspired yet, are you?”
“Inspired? I am totally weirded out.” Cooper guzzled more champagne. “I don’t need edible underwear,” she whispered.
Ashley scowled. “We’re here for
me,
remember? You don’t have to buy anything.” She examined the
Dirty Girl
box and passed it to the next woman.
Wire baskets filled with massage oils and scented candles found their way to Cooper’s row along with a serving tray loaded with truffles, bite-sized raspberry mousse cups, and strawberries dipped in white chocolate.
Amid all this excitement, the models came into the room for their encore wearing flowing nightgowns trimmed in lace. The cream-colored silk combined with the tight, brocade bodices produced an ethereal effect. Cooper was sorely tempted to make a mark on her order sheet, but something held her back.
“That’s
what I want!” Ashley was thrilled. “Something beautiful, captivating, utterly romantic. With white candles, that nightgown and robe, and maybe a gardenia in my hair . . .” She made hasty marks on her paper.
“Where are you going to get a gardenia in the middle of winter?” Cooper inquired.
Ashley smiled. “I know an excellent florist. I’ll look like a spring bride. Fresh and lovely. He won’t be able to resist me.” She reached over and squeezed Cooper’s hand. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. It turned out to be a success. Cheers!”
Tapping the rim of her glass against Ashley’s, Cooper realized that she couldn’t recall whether she’d consumed three drinks or four. Her cheeks felt warm and the upbeat music and high-pitched laughter of the women seemed pleasantly boisterous.
Still, Cooper was glad that Ashley was more interested in placing her order and getting home than mingling with her friends. By the time the models had taken their bows and clothed themselves in jeans and sweatshirts, Ashley had already paid for her purchases and said her good-byes.
“Everyone was glad you came,” she said to Cooper once they were back in the Lexus. “They all think you’re really pretty. Georgia told me that her little brother’s single and quite a catch—but I told her you were perfectly happy.”
“Thanks,” Cooper replied, her words slurring slightly. “I am happy.”
Kneeling beside her bed a half hour later, Cooper folded her hands together and prayed that her sister’s marriage worries would come to a quick and decisive end. “And if Lincoln’s avoiding her, please guide him back home,” she added. “Before he wanders too far.”
Books by Ellery Adams
The Hope Street Church Mysteries
The Path of the Crooked
The Way of the Wicked
The Graves of the Guilty
The Books by the Bay Mysteries
A Killer Plot
A Deadly Cliché
The Last Word
Written in Stone
Poisoned Prose
Lethal Letters
The Charmed Pie Shoppe Mysteries
Pies and Prejudice
Peach Pies and Alibis
Pecan Pies and Homicide
The Book Retreat Mysteries
Murder in the Mystery Suite
Writing as J. B. Stanley
The Antiques & Collectibles Mysteries
A Killer Collection
A Fatal Appraisal
A Deadly Dealer
The Supper Club Mysteries
Carbs and Cadavers
Fit to Die
Chili Con Corpses
Stiffs and Swine
The Battered Body
Black Beans & Vice
Ellery Adams’s books at Amazon!
About the Author
Ellery Adams grew up on a beach near the Long Island Sound. Having spent her adult life in a series of landlocked towns, she cherishes her memories of open water, violent storms, and the smell of the sea. Ms. Adams has held many jobs, including caterer, retail clerk, car salesperson, teacher, tutor, and tech writer, all the while penning poems, children’s books, and novels. She now writes full-time from her home in Virginia.
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