Path Of The Wicked Part 23

"When you face a time of trial, know that you're not alone," Savannah whispered. "Let love and faith outweigh your fear."

Trish pulled away from Maggie and looked at her friends, her expression anguished. Grammy rubbed at her chin and then locked eyes with Cooper. Immediately comprehending what Grammy's hazel eyes were telling her, Cooper unpinned the silver b.u.t.terfly from her cardigan and gently fastened it onto Trish's umber-hued suit jacket.

"We're with you," Cooper promised and took her friend's hand in hers. "Wherever you go. We're right there."

Later, after Cooper's friends had gone home, Cooper and Grammy took Columbus out for his final flight of the day. With the hawk on her left arm and her grandmother clutching her right, Cooper felt amazingly balanced considering the experiences of the past few weeks.

"I hope this doesn't sound weird," Cooper began once the hawk had jumped from her arm and circled skyward. "But this tragedy with the Door-2-Door folks has got me thinking. You've been such an important part of my life, Grammy, and-"

"Now don't go pus.h.i.+n' me in the grave yet, girlie!" Grammy interrupted with a cackle. "I walked all the way out to this here fence in case you weren't payin' attention. No need to talk about me like I'm on the way out."

Cooper smiled at her grandmother, soaking up the laugh lines fanning out from the corners of her eyes, the soft white curls of her hair, the delicateness of her hands. For once, she didn't notice age spots or wrinkles, the s.h.i.+ny track suit or mismatched argyle socks, but only a strong, determined, and loyal woman who placed her family above all other things.

"I just wanted to know if you felt like you'd missed out on something. Is there anything I could do to, I don't know, to fulfill a wish?" Cooper finished, feeling a bit lame in her inability to express what she wanted to say.

Grammy snorted. "Like takin' me to climb a pyramid or toss a quarter into that famous fountain in Rome? That sort of thing?"

Cooper shrugged. "Yeah. Kind of."

"Girlie, I got everythin' I want right here. I got a heart that beats, a mind that thinks, and two arms to put around the folks I love, and, for some mysterious reason, love me right back." She squeezed Cooper's arm. "My only wish is for you to be happy. Do that, and I've got everythin' I ever wanted."

As Columbus called out a cry of delight, his tawny feathers tinted gold by the waning light, Cooper hugged her grandmother. She held onto the small and bony frame until the first star winked into life above the ridge of trees.

The following Tuesday, when Cooper checked in at the lobby of the Henrico County's Jail West and requested a visit with Edward Crosby, she discovered that she wasn't nervous at all.

Earlier in the day, Mr. Farmer had spontaneously declared that he was taking all of his employees to a well-deserved lunch at Ipanema Grill, where they could spend an hour gorging on Brazilian cuisine. Though Cooper would have enjoyed such a sumptuous free lunch, she knew that keeping her promise to The Colonel was more important.

"Ipanema? That's the place where they keep bringing ya giant slabs of meat!" Emilio had exclaimed when he heard the news. "They carve it right there at your table. Beef, lamb, pork, chicken. And they don't stop until you tell 'em to. Man, I've got the best job and the best girl in Richmond. Awesome, huh?" He clapped Mr. Farmer on the back.

"I don't know about the best girl part," Mr. Farmer had replied, shooting a coy grin in Angela's direction, "but I'm glad you're happy at Make It Work!"

"What about you, Cooper?" Ben had elbowed her in the side while Angela blew kisses at their boss. "Aren't you just dying to watch Emilio polish off a barnyard's worth of cow, pig, and fowl?"

"I'll leave that pleasure to you," she said, shoving him aside with her shoulder. "Though I wouldn't mind hanging out with you for an hour."

Ben grinned. "You mean, now that I'm not acting like a total grump?"

"I mean, now that you're more like your old self."

"I'll never be that again," Ben confessed without ire. "But the guy I turned into after going through this with Melissa might make it worth the grief. I'm learning a lot about myself by supporting her."

Cooper stopped organizing the morning's work orders and looked at Ben in astonishment. "You know-that's the first time I've heard you say her name! Ben and Melissa. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Nodding, Ben smiled. "It does. It really does."

Waving good-bye to her coworkers, Cooper unwrapped the peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly sandwich she had brought from home and enjoyed a quiet lunch alone in the office kitchen. After a fifteen-minute break, she got busy with her afternoon repairs, which included removing a jammed paperclip from the inside of a scanner, fixing a malfunctioning stamp machine at the post office, and reprogramming a copier so that it chose eight-by-eleven sheets of paper instead of the legal-size doc.u.ments it had insisted on producing no matter what paper tray had been selected.

Once every Make It Work! client had been completely satisfied, Cooper took her official lunch break at two-thirty. That left her less than an hour to drive to the government complex and see The Colonel before visiting hours were over.

When he appeared in the portioned room, Frank's son seemed stunned by the realization that Cooper had actually returned.

"So the cops nailed the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who killed my dad?" he asked, his eyes fierce.

"Yes." Cooper wondered how much detail to go into.

"I read about it in today's paper, but a little birdie told me they picked him up at your place. You meant what you said, didn't you? That you were gonna make things right and figure out the truth about Frank's death." He gazed at her with respect. "You're the first person I've met that means what they say. You. A total fu-ah, freakin' stranger. Why do you give a rat's a.s.s? Why are you even here?"

Momentarily taken aback, Cooper wasn't sure how to respond. Even though The Colonel had asked the question with no hostility, she felt offended. "I wanted you to know why your daddy hid that diary and why he was so obsessed about honor." She then described the incidents surrounding Aaron Crosby's history. "I thought if you knew, you might be able to forgive your daddy."

The Colonel rubbed his stubble in bewilderment. "Who cares about Aaron Crosby? It all happened a hundred years ago. Why'd Frank have to let some relative destroy this generation of Crosbys? You gotta admit-he was completely whacked."

Cooper disagreed. "He may have taken things too much to heart, and his fears no doubt hurt you and your mama, but there's no reason why you can't make the Crosby name s.h.i.+ne again. It's not too late."

The Colonel smirked, unconvinced. "You gonna pour holy water over my head and whisper some Bible mumbo-jumbo and expect that my life will be all nice and pretty? Just like that?" He snapped his fingers. "d.a.m.n, woman! I'm gonna get out in six months and go right back to the street. It's what I know."

"And end up back in here!" Cooper replied angrily. "Where's the honor in that plan? All you need is for one person to believe in you-in your ability to change, to take a chance at a life that includes a regular job, an apartment, a few friends. Maybe even a girlfriend."

Smiling for the first time since he sat down, The Colonel leaned forward. "You applying for the job?"

"Sorry, Colonel. I'm spoken for." Cooper relished how wonderful it felt to utter that phrase. "But you can put me down on your list as a friend. As someone who truly believes in your potential."

The Colonel seemed to withdraw and Cooper hoped that she hadn't been too pushy. When he remained silently staring at her even after the guard warned him that his visit would be over in sixty seconds, she began to despair that she had mishandled the situation completely.

With only seconds remaining, The Colonel abruptly whispered into the phone, "If we're gonna hang out sometime, then you'd better call me Edward." He raised his hand to prevent her from speaking. "As for livin' the straight life, it'll take a sign from G.o.d to make that happen."

And with that, he hung up the phone and disappeared.

A sign? Cooper remained immobile in her seat for a few moments longer. What kind of sign would it take? I don't think G.o.d's in the business of performing on demand.

Suddenly, she had an idea. Approaching the nearest guard, she asked him to deliver a folded piece of paper to Edward Crosby.

"I'll see he gets it, ma'am."

Later that afternoon, Cooper clocked out and headed for one of the dozens of strip malls on Broad Street. She and Nathan had planned a quiet evening lounging around his house. Nathan had volunteered to cook a pizza and throw together a salad if Cooper promised to arrive bearing a movie for them to watch after dinner.

"I can tell you already that I'm renting Love, Actually," she informed him over the phone as she pulled into Blockbuster's parking lot. "I need to watch something with a happy ending."

"I'm a fan of those kind of endings myself," Nathan answered. "And I know I'm going to be seeing your beautiful face in person soon, but did everything go okay during your visit with The Colonel?"

Cooper paused. "He told me he'd be looking out for a sign-something to encourage him to live a different life once he's released."

"That's a bit beyond our power, isn't it?"

"But maybe not Quinton's," Cooper replied with a smile. "I think his most recent song was meant specifically for Edward Crosby."

"Cool. I hope Jake sets that one to music, too. That is, if he has time. Yesterday, he told me that he's spending the next few days cleaning every inch of his house. He's finally done it, Cooper."

"Asked Savannah on a date?" Cooper inquired hopefully.

Nathan laughed. "I guess his feelings for her are as obvious as mine are for you." Then he softly added, "See you soon, sweetheart."

In a group jail cell, populated by thirty men in beige scrubs, there was little opportunity for privacy or quiet. One of the few times the men fell silent and minded their own business occurred after the arrival of the mail each day. When the letters were delivered to the eager inmates that Tuesday evening, Edward Crosby was surprised to hear his name called and have a folded sheet of paper handed to him.

"Who's this from?" he asked as he glimpsed the bottom of the page in search of a signature.

The guard shrugged. "No idea."

Edward retreated to his cot. He smoothed the slightly creased paper flat and then began to read.

My heart was like a winter storm

Frozen hard with ice and cold

Blanketed in piles of snow

I was lost among the shadows

I wondered:

Is it too late

To find the light?

Is it too late

To make things right?

I h.o.a.rded riches, I gathered pride

I knocked down others

To feel big inside

I gave in to envy

I surrendered to hate

While an inner voice whispered