Path Of The Wicked Part 9

Brenda clucked her tongue. "Are you listenin' to yourself, girl? We're the ones packin' and bringin' them their food, right? Now, I ain't no college professor, but I can put two and two together and figure out how easy it would be to stir a little somethin' into the mashed potatoes."

"I need to figure out what that something is, but my experience with drugs doesn't go past Robitussin."

"Go see Mr. Crosby's son, then," Brenda suggested as she merged into the next lane without using her signal. "That's why the boy's in jail. Probably knows more about drugs than anybody in Richmond. Just wasn't smart enough to figure out he was sellin' heroin to an undercover cop."

"Jail?" Cooper swallowed hard. She tried to envision the members of her Bible study sitting across from a convicted drug dealer in an attempt to elicit information from him. Not one of them seemed fit for the job at hand.

"But if you're gonna go, you'd better take somebody," Brenda advised as she pulled into the Door-2-Door parking lot. "And you'd better pick wisely. Those prison boys don't see many women and that Crosby boy might wanna talk to you about things you don't wanna talk about. You hear what I'm sayin'? Take someone with you."

"I hear you," Cooper replied aloud. In silence, she prayed, Lord, can you send me someone who can interrogate a man wearing an orange jumpsuit?

8.

For sighing comes to me instead of food;

my groans pour out like water.

Job 3:24 (NIV) Brenda dropped Cooper off at Door-2-Door's side entrance and sped off to attend a fall festival at her church. After replacing the black cooler beneath one of the lengthy stainless steel counters in the kitchen, Cooper located her friends. All six of them were contentedly snacking on ham and cheese biscuits and Costco cookies in the volunteer lounge.

"How'd it go?" Jake asked. "You look a bit green around the gills."

"Not green. Pink." Trish eyed Cooper's flushed neck and handed her a cup of water. "Maybe you're dehydrated. You got back later than everyone else, too. Did you and Brenda have a really long route?"

Cooper accepted the water and looked around the lounge. The other volunteers had left for the day with the exception of Eugene. He was sprawled out on two folding chairs in the back of the room munching on a biscuit. An empty chair in the adjacent row served as a table for his can of Pepsi and a paper napkin piled high with chocolate chip cookies. A comic book was open on his lap and the young man laughed heartily as he ate and read.

"I think one of the clients on my route was drugged," Cooper announced in a low voice as she took a seat among her friends. "A man named Mr. Crosby."

"Oh, I've heard about him," Trish said dismissively. "Isn't he a little batty?"

"A bit," Cooper agreed. "But I'm not talking about how he acted. When we first saw him, we actually thought, well, that he might be dead. He'd been sitting in the same chair for twenty-four hours and he was still sitting there when Brenda and I went inside. The poor man has no memory at all of what happened to him."

Quinton helped himself to a handful of cookies and offered one to Cooper. "Lots of older folks have memory issues. Mr. Crosby probably just forgot to go to bed and fell asleep in his chair. Why do you think he was drugged?"

Cooper lowered her voice even though Eugene was clearly absorbed in his comics. "Fell asleep for twenty-four hours? No." She shook her head. "He was really upset about something that was taken from his house. I don't know what it was and he wasn't really making sense. He kept repeating how his secret had been stolen."

Holding up a finger to stop Trish from interrupting, Cooper continued, "It's clear that Mr. Crosby is wired differently than the rest of us, but he was thinking straight enough to be bothered that he had lost a whole day and that someone took an object from his bedroom." She broke her cookie in half and stared at the crumbs on her lap. "Brenda's delivered to this man before and she says he's never had problems with his memory. And I'm no doctor, but Mr. Crosby just acted, you know, doped."

"I trust your instincts," Nathan stated loyally. "How did Brenda react?"

"She was amazing," Cooper replied. "She revived Mr. Crosby by tossing water in his face, changed his clothes, got his lunch ready, and tidied up the house within fifteen minutes. Thank G.o.d she was there."

"Thank G.o.d is right," Savannah agreed.

"She's also the one who suggested he'd been drugged and she was mighty mad about it," Cooper added.

"So Brenda's probably innocent, unless she's a great actor," Bryant said.

"I think we need to have a little chat with Lali," Jake said, his strong arms folded across his chest. "We gotta have all the facts if we're gonna be of any help to these folks." He tossed a napkin into a garbage can several feet away. "Time to storm the castle, folks. Who's with me?"

When Anita heard about the impromptu meeting between Lali and the Sunrise Bible study members, she insisted on being present. Cooper began by telling Lali about her delivery to Mr. Crosby and her concern that his physical condition was related to the thefts, and possibly the deaths, that had occurred with other Door-2-Door clients over the past few months. Of course, she also had to confess that she had inadvertently eavesdropped on two of Lali's conversations.

"I'm not concerned that you overheard us talking about the thefts," Lali let Cooper off the hook gracefully. "I'm concerned about Mr. Crosby. You say that the last thing he remembers is being visited by one of our volunteers?" Lali's dark eyes were liquid with worry.

"He remembers working a crossword in the newspaper as he waited for his lunch to be delivered," Cooper replied. "He doesn't actually recall eating lunch, but an empty tray was in his garbage can."

"Maybe we should get a hold of that tray," Savannah suggested softly. "If something was mixed in his food . . ."

Lali covered her face with her hands. "I just can't believe it!" She then pushed back a strand of glossy blue-black hair and smoothed a wrinkle in her skirt, as though gathering strength to face the truth. "Okay. This is what's going to happen. Anita and I will contact one of our nurse pract.i.tioner volunteers and all three of us will visit Mr. Crosby this afternoon. If the medical professional believes Mr. Crosby was drugged, my next step will be to contact the police. I'm sure they'll know how to proceed."

Jake, who restlessly drummed his fingers on the conference table, suddenly pushed his wheeled chair backward. "This whole thing should be easy enough to deal with, ladies. Just find out who delivered Mr. Crosby's food yesterday and you've got your man."

Lali shook her head. "We can't accuse one of the volunteers without proof. Besides," her voice grew heavy, "the volunteer sign-up sheet from yesterday is gone. Someone took it or threw it out or who-knows-what." She was clearly disturbed about the missing doc.u.ment. "The bottom line is that it never got filed, so short of asking everyone who volunteers here, I have no record of who drove where." She sighed. "The Sat.u.r.day crew is fairly regular, but the weekday volunteers change all the time."

"That's the truth," Anita said. "We'd be on the phone all day asking folks, and if someone was guilty, they wouldn't tell us what we'd want to know anyhow."

"All I can do is review every detail with the police and allow them to conduct their investigation as they see fit. I'm sorry you've been exposed to all this." She gestured at a handful of manila folders.

Anita rose and placed a protective hand on Lali's shoulder. "Thank you all for coming to talk to us, but please don't repeat details about the missing items or Mr. Crosby's state of health to anyone. Every single one of our clients will suffer if we lose volunteers or if funding dries up because of harmful gossip. We hope to see you again next weekend."

Her tone made it clear that the meeting was over, but as soon as the group stepped outside, Trish gestured for everyone to gather around her car.

"We're not going to spread rumors about what's happening here, but I don't think we should just drop the subject, either," Trish declared firmly.

"Let's give the police the benefit of the doubt," Savannah suggested. "If there's any evidence of misconduct, they'll find it."

"And if Lali still thinks the clients might be at risk, we could implement Plan B," Nathan said.

"What's that?" Jake asked.

"Hosting a potluck," Cooper replied. "So we can get to know the volunteers working on Fridays and Sat.u.r.days better."

"Excellent idea! I'll call around and see where we can rent a s.p.a.ce for our social event," Trish offered. "Just in case we need to throw this thing together at the last minute. I'm thinking one of the community centers would do nicely. After all," she grimaced, "I don't want a thief and potential murderer running around inside my house. See you in church tomorrow!"

As the Bible study members dispersed, Nathan walked Cooper to her truck.

He opened her door with a smile. "So how's that pair of kittens we saved?"

"Grammy found homes for them right away." Cooper avoided meeting his eyes, still mortified over how their last date had ended. "A little girl down the road had to put her cat to sleep last month and she was feeling real lonely, so the timing couldn't have been better. 'Course, I don't know if the cats are going to be happy about being called Bella and Edward."

Nathan laughed. "You're always full of surprises! I'll see you in the morning."

Cooper waved good-bye and then drove home in a funk. She knew Nathan was busy preparing the Big Man site for its upcoming launch, but she had wanted to return to the way she had felt during their last date before it had been interrupted by the discovery of the stray cats.

Guess this gives me time to buy another bra, Cooper thought wryly. And this time, I'm getting the plain cotton kind from Target. After all, Ashley doesn't need to know what happened to the one she bought me.

"So how'd your new lingerie work out?" Ashley whispered as she and Cooper set the table for Sunday supper.

"Just fine," Cooper mumbled and then gestured toward the hall. "Can we not talk about that right now?"

"Talk about what?" Grammy demanded as she shuffled into the kitchen. "Somethin' juicy?" Her white eyebrows wiggled suggestively as she examined Ashley's flat stomach. "Like baby-makin'? You sure you're tryin' hard enough, girl? You're not on one of those crazy diets again, are you? A woman can't fill her womb eatin' celery and rice cakes. Trust me on that one."

Ashley developed a sudden interest in folding the paper napkins into fan designs.

"I bet you're readin' too many books." Grammy sank into a chair and immediately unfolded the napkin fan. "You can't be science-like about this whole thing. Say a prayer to the Maker, pour yourselves some wine, and celebrate bein' young and in love. That's how you make a baby. It's right simple."

"It's supposed to take couples an average of six months to conceive," Ashley informed Grammy.

Grammy pointed at the wall calendar hanging near the kitchen phone. "Well, when did you start?"

Taking a hesitant step toward the calendar, which the Lees received every year at Christmas time from their State Farm agent, Ashley reached her hand toward the month of October and then froze. Bowing her head, she seemed to be fighting to gain control over her emotions, and when it seemed as though she was on the verge of tears, she pivoted and walked briskly through the kitchen and out the back door. She didn't bother to close the door behind her and a crisp wind bearing the scent of burning leaves mingled with the aroma of the mustard-and sage-covered ham baking in the oven.

"Grammy," Cooper admonished as she held onto the open door. "Ease up on the baby stuff, okay? n.o.body wants to have a child more than Ashley, and since she's used to getting exactly she wants, this wait is awful hard on her."

Unperturbed, Grammy reached for the cla.s.sified section of the Times-Dispatch. "I'm just tryin' to shake somethin' loose in that girl. She holds everythin' so tight inside. It ain't good for her. Think about it, granddaughter. When's the last time you saw her cry or get mad or shout at anybody? I wanna peek under that mask of hers-see how she's really doin'."

"I'll go talk to her. I think that's a better way of finding out what's going on with her than provoking her." Cooper stared at her grandmother in hopes she would get the point.

"Suit yourself," Grammy answered and then yelled, "Maggie! I think your ham's about done!" She then hid herself behind the newspaper and didn't so much as rustle a page until her eldest grandchild stepped outside.

Saffron-edged leaves crunched beneath Cooper's tennis shoes as she crossed the patio toward the cl.u.s.ter of spent Rudbeckia bordering Earl's vegetable garden. Ashley sat on a stone stool, examining one of the golden cone-shaped heads, her elegant fingers tracing the serrated edges of the leaves just below the crown of flower petals. When Cooper drew near, Ashley turned her face toward the woods, but not quickly enough to disguise the tear tracks on her cheeks.

Saying nothing, Cooper squatted next to her sister and put an arm around her waist. They stayed like that for several minutes as a woodp.e.c.k.e.r hammered into the birch tree bordering the patio.

"Why does Grammy have to be so mean?" Ashley sniffed. "It's bad enough that Lincoln and I have been trying to conceive for over a year and I didn't even realize it 'til she made me look at that d.a.m.ned calendar."

"Grammy just wants you to be happy," Cooper answered, and when Ashley snorted in disbelief, added, "I think she wants to see that our family's growing. You know, that life is going to go on when she's gone. The idea of us being settled is a comfort for her."

"She's still laying it on thick about catching Nathan?" Ashley asked as she swatted away a tear clinging to her jawline.

Cooper smiled. "Not any thicker than you do, Ashley." She searched in the birch tree for the woodp.e.c.k.e.r and saw his gray-and-black-speckled body flitter around the upper part of the fraying trunk. "To answer your question from earlier, Nathan and I were having a great date until we found those two stray kittens Grammy gave away last week. They, ah, kind of interrupted us. We were, um, heading back to his place when one of the cats ran across our path."

Ashley gave her sister a curious stare. "Good thing you're not superst.i.tious. And what's happened since then?"

Cooper shrugged. "Let's grab Columbus and give him a chance to stretch his wings a bit while we're talking." She fetched the hawk from his cage and walked a safe distance from Ashley toward the split-rail fence. Columbus flapped his wings the entire way and Ashley eyed him warily.

"He won't fly at you," Cooper told her sister. "He's just excited to be out in the open." She raised her arm and the hawk took off.

As Columbus alighted on a tree in the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne, Cooper leaned on the fence rail and sighed. "Maybe Nathan and I aren't meant to be together. We just can't seem to connect. I didn't think falling for someone again after Drew would be . . . such hard work."

Ashley s.h.i.+elded her eyes from the glare as Columbus circled about the field of dry gra.s.s.

"Work. Funny you should use that word. That's what Lincoln told me the other night-that I've turned our time with one another into work." Tears pooled in her eyes again. "He says that he's got two jobs now. One running his daddy's dealers.h.i.+ps and the other . . ." She trailed off. "Is making me a baby. He doesn't say us, Cooper. As if it's all about me! It's not like we could even be a family without him."

Cooper touched her sister's corona of sunlit hair, which shone like warm honey beneath the open sky. "I'm sorry, Ashley."

"I need this baby, Coop. Lincoln's hardly home at all. When he's not working, he's out golfing with other big-shot car guys. And what about me? I'm sick of shopping and I've had every spa treatment this city has to offer. I want more!" She s.n.a.t.c.hed a twig from the ground and began snapping it to pieces. "For years I've done all kinds of charitable work. Habitat for Humanity, United Way, American Cancer Society, American Heart a.s.sociation, the Children's Hospital, every animal shelter within three counties, a trillion museums, and what for?" Anger appeared in the clench of her jaw. "I just want this one thing."

Cooper was silent for a moment. With extreme gentleness she said, "I don't think it works that way, Ashley. You can't earn yourself a baby."

Her sister sighed. "I know, but it's how I feel sometimes. Other people get pregnant and they don't even want to be, and I want a child more than anything and can give a baby such a good life, so how does that make sense?" She picked at a piece of loose pine on the fence rail. "My church friends tell me that G.o.d has a plan, or that this might be a test of my faith, or that I should be patient. Well, I think a year's long enough to wait, unless this is a test I'm just plain going to fail."

At that moment, partway across the vast field, Columbus cried out in frustration. He swooped just above the tall gra.s.s and rose slowly toward the horizon, his talons bare.

"He almost had something," Cooper murmured. "It must have slipped away."

"That's how I feel about time," Ashley said sadly. "It's just slipping past and I can't hold onto it."

Cooper rubbed her sister's back as the breeze made waves in the sea of gra.s.s before them. Together they leaned against the fence, each lost in unhappy thoughts as Columbus attempted another unsuccessful dive. Finally, Maggie called them in for supper.

Ashley brushed a few seeds and nettles from her ochrehued cashmere sweater and smoothed her pleated skirt. Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and gave a little toss to her head, as though shaking off the feelings she had revealed a few moments before.

Cooper reached her forearm into the air, signaling for Columbus to return. He landed in a flutter of creamy white and walnut feathers, blinking rapidly as though agitated. Cooper soothed the bird with her free hand as they made their way back to the house. She returned the raptor to his aviary and hung the thick glove on a hook fastened to the side of his cage. "It'll be okay, Ashley," she said before reentering the kitchen. "Things will work out."

"They'd better," Ashley replied with a frown. "Or I'm going to demand my money back from that fortune teller at the State Fair."

Cooper laughed. "How on earth would you find her again?"

Ashley tapped her temple. "Even I could track down someone named Madame Zoofu, Ms. Detective. Now let's get our dinner over with so we can have dessert. Daddy said Mama made apple crisp tartlets with hard sauce-my favorite fall treat! She must've known I needed some extra TLC today."

"That's 'cause she's a mother," Cooper said. "You'll have that kind of instinct about your own child one day, Ashley. And I hope you have a boy. We've got plenty of estrogen in this family as it is."

Ashley shot a wary look in Grammy's direction as she turned her wrinkled face toward the kitchen door. "We've got plenty of what?" she demanded.

Before Cooper could answer, Ashley plopped down in her seat and chirped, "Spirit, Grammy! We've got lots of spirit!"

"Glad to hear it," Grammy replied and then gestured at the ham. "Now somebody cut me off a nice, thick piece. I got a new kind of denture cream and I plan to see if it's as good as the commercial says. We should expect the best outta life, girls." She eyed both of her granddaughters. "Sometimes you gotta believe you deserve the riches of this world first, before they can be given to you. And I'm not talkin' about money in the bank, but all things great and beautiful." She reached across the table and grasped Ashley's left hand. "I'm your grandmother and I'm tellin' you, you deserve these things."

"Thanks, Grammy," Ashley whispered.

Grammy released Ashley's hand and plopped her napkin on her lap. Now, let's say grace so we can eat. Bow your heads, children. I know a short one."

Wednesday morning at Make It Work!, Angela called Cooper on her cell phone and asked her to pick up the company's lunch order from Casa Grande.

"I ordered you cheese enchiladas with refried beans and rice," Angela informed Cooper. She sounded especially chipper. "I know whateverybody's favorites are, 'cept for Emilio. He says he likes to try new things all the time. I can only imagine what he means by that." She giggled.