“We have to call the police, Ashley. Do you really think Lincoln tied that man up and put him in the trunk of a Cadillac?”
“Of course not!” Ashley responded heatedly and Cooper was pleased to see that her sister had settled down enough to listen to reason.
“We have no idea where this crime was committed or who committed it, but that man”—Cooper gestured toward the garage—“deserves justice. I’m going to call the cops now. When they get here, I’m sure they’ll want to speak to Lincoln.” She made her voice very soft and gentle. “Do you know where he is?”
Ashley shrugged, but there was anger in the set of her shoulders. “He’s at Morton’s, having one of his three-hour steak dinners with his daddy and a few of the other managers.”
“And he’s not answering his phone?”
“He’s at Morton’s!” Ashley answered with her customary aplomb. “You couldn’t hear a fog horn in that place. It’s like some kind of conversation competition. Everyone talks louder than the next person. You’re half deaf and ten pounds heavier after every meal at that place.”
Edward’s mouth twitched in amusement and Cooper was struck again by the sheer force of his presence. He hadn’t uttered a single word and yet she felt clear-headed and confident just because he was in the room. As though predicting her next move, Edward handed her the phone from its cradle behind him. Cooper dialed 9-1-1 and provided what few details she could about the dead man in Ashley’s garage, and then hung up. She exhaled in relief. Help was on the way.
“Well, ladies. That’s my cue,” Edward said and turned for the door.
Cooper followed him. “Your timing was heaven-sent. Thanks for stopping to check on me by the highway and for bringing me here.”
Edward issued the briefest of nods. “I’m going to finish up the job on your truck. You can’t leave it there all night,” he said as he stepped out into the cold. “Have one of the cops”—he said the word with distaste—“drive you back there when they’re done with you. It’ll be ready to roll.”
“Wait!” she said loudly as he strutted toward his bike. “I don’t even know what to call you! Edward or the Colonel?”
Smiling, he threw a leg over his bike and prepared to don his helmet. “Depends on what company I’m keeping. With you, I guess I’m Edward.”
Before she could reiterate her thanks, Edward had fired up the motor. With a wave of his black-gloved hand, he sped off down the drive.
Cooper stood outside, listening to the roar of his engine until the night fell quiet again.
By the time she returned to the kitchen, rubbing her cold-reddened hands together, Ashley had changed into a rose-hued sweater set and gray slacks. She’d even added a string of pearls and pulled her hair back into a silk headband. Cooper watched her apply a layer of pink lipstick using the toaster’s reflection as though she were primping for a ladies’ luncheon instead of preparing to meet a group of police officers.
“Are you getting gussied up for the cops?” she asked, startling Ashley. The lipstick slid across her sister’s bottom lip and down her chin like a smear from a melting popsicle.
“I feel more comfortable this way.” Ashley wiped her chin and eyed Cooper intently. “Do you mind explaining your Zorro on two wheels?”
“That’s Edward Crosby.” When Ashley responded with a blank look, Cooper explained further. “His father was murdered last year by the Door-2-Door Dinner killer. Remember?”
Her sister’s eyes grew round in horror. “He’s the convict? And he was in my kitchen?”
“He’s not incarcerated anymore. Clearly,” Cooper answered sharply. “I got a flat tire driving home and he pulled over to help me out. Then you called and I needed to get here as fast as I could, so he gave me a ride. Pretty nice for a convict.”
“Edward.” Ashley tried out the name. “He’s got magnetism, that’s for sure.” She studied Cooper for a reaction and then yelled “Ha!” when the telltale blush crept up her sister’s neck. “Just how tight were you holding onto him as you two sped over here?”
Fortunately, Cooper was saved from having to respond to Ashley’s insensitive line of questioning by the arrival of the police. Answering the door, she was taken aback to see only a pair of men in blue standing on the welcome mat.
“This way, please.” She stepped back to let them inside. As the younger officer closed the door, Cooper introduced herself and she led them through the kitchen into the garage. “And this is my sister, Ashley Love. She found the body.”
Both sisters instinctively hung back as the officers walked to the rear of the Cadillac. The taciturn men exchanged subtle glances of surprise after looking inside the trunk, and suddenly, their doubtful expressions transformed their faces into visages of steely determination.
The trapped air inside the garage grew heavier in the silence. It was as though the presence of additional witnesses multiplied the number of unanswered questions surrounding the dead man’s demise, making it hard to breathe in an atmosphere abruptly polluted by the taint of violence.
Cooper took Ashley by the elbow and drew her away from the garage and into her formal living room. There, the sisters sank into a deep sofa covered with a soft, olive-green chenille fabric. Ashley hugged a floral pillow to her chest while Cooper closed her eyes and tried to imagine what the policemen were saying to one another as they examined the bound corpse.
“When they come in, offer them coffee,” Cooper whispered to her sister. “Remember—no matter what they seem to be implying by their questions—that we’re on the same side. We all want to find out what happened to that poor man.”
Frightened, Ashley nodded. She spent the following minutes chewing on her fingernails. Finally, when the ticking of the mantel clock seemed to increase in volume, she suddenly jumped up and announced her plan to call the maître d’ at Morton’s.
“I’ll just inform him that there was an emergency at Mr. Love’s home and he should call his wife immediately.”
Satisfied by having decided upon a course of action, Ashley made the call. That done, she seemed to be in complete control as the officers tersely explained that a homicide investigation team was on the way. She smiled as though this was welcome news and then offered the two men not only coffee, but a plate of Magnolia’s Marvels oatmeal raisin cookies, too. By the time three more policemen arrived, including a man dressed in a charcoal-colored suit, Ashley had covered the kitchen island with a hearty spread, including oven-warmed croissants, slices of cheddar and Havarti cheese, thick slabs of Virginia ham, small bowls of mustard and mayo, and of course, more of Maggie’s cookies.
Somehow, the food miraculously softened the policemen’s attitude toward Ashley. With the exception of the officer in the suit, who declined all offers of hospitality and remained in the garage, the officers all addressed her as ma’am and repeatedly thanked her for her kindness.
When the front door opened again, letting in a fresh burst of needle-sharp air, Ashley was too busy refilling coffee cups to realize that her stupefied husband had arrived. He was in the company of a burly, commanding figure Cooper hadn’t seen for over a year.
“We meet again, Ms. Lee.” Investigator McNamara took Cooper’s outstretched hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I believe your brother-in-law and I arrived at the same time. Does Mr. Love know what’s happened here?”
Shaking her head, Cooper shrank a little beneath McNamara’s penetrating stare. She noticed that his thinning salt-and-pepper hair was cut very short and that he needed to shave. A few of the hairs on his chin had already turned white and the skin beneath his eyes was bluish and puffy due to years of broken sleep and too much caffeine.
“You have a knack for discovering dead bodies, Ms. Lee.” McNamara didn’t smile, but his saddle-brown eyes softened as he spoke and Cooper relaxed.
“It wasn’t me. I just—”
“Why don’t you show me to your garage, Mr. Love?” The investigator cut off Cooper’s protest, but he left her with a genuine smile be
fore following Ashley’s stunned husband deeper into the house.
“The garage?” Cooper heard Lincoln say and had to hold her sister back as a shout of shock and horror reverberated throughout the kitchen.
“McNamara had to do that, Ashley. He needed to make sure Lincoln was just as surprised as you were to find a body out there.” She squeezed her sister tightly. “I know it’s hard.”
Lincoln entered the kitchen and sank, ashen-faced, into one of the chairs.
Ashley flew to him and put her arms around his neck. “Do you know who that is?” she whispered.
“He might work at one of the dealerships. He looks familiar, but Ash, with the way he looks, I can’t be sure.” He rubbed his eyes, as though trying to obliterate the image of the body, and then gently extricated himself from Ashley’s embrace and walked to the sink to pour himself a glass of tap water.
The night seemed interminable. Cooper, Ashley, and Lincoln were interviewed separately by McNamara and his partner, Investigator Wiser. Wiser, who was in his late twenties and had a mass of tight brown curls, espresso-brown eyes, and a face marked by a heavy shadow of stubble, did most of the talking while McNamara watched from a seated position on a wing chair, occasionally making notations on a pocket-sized notebook.
Cooper’s testimony was the simplest, and after she’d gone over her version of events two times, McNamara informed her that she was free to leave. It was after eleven o’clock at this point, and Cooper was exhausted. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed, but she was reluctant to leave her sister. She had seen how Ashley had sent one pleading look after another Lincoln’s way, and although he had hugged her upon his arrival, he didn’t protest when the police forced them to separate during questioning.
“We’re about to remove the victim,” McNamara explained quietly as though he could sense her concern. “In another hour or so, your sister and her husband will be free to get some sleep.” He paused. “That is, if they’re able.”
Reluctantly, Cooper asked for a ride to her truck, and McNamara responded by pulling one of the uniformed officers away from his ham and cheese sandwich. “You’re to inspect Ms. Lee’s vehicle until you’re certain those tires are as full as your belly. Are we clear?”
The man instantly tossed his sandwich aside, stood a fraction taller, and said, “Yes, sir.” He even helped Cooper into her coat and opened the front door for her with a flourish.
Ashley handed Cooper her mittens and the sisters embraced. “What’s going to happen to us?” she whispered.
Over her sister’s bent head, Cooper watched as two men from the Medical Examiner’s Office exchanged a few words with Wiser before heading inside the garage. There was a lot of noise in the Love house for such a late hour, and the two sisters stood in their embrace, letting themselves get lost in the din. Radios crackled and tinny, disjointed voices mumbled unintelligible code from the policemen’s utility belts; cell phones rang and were answered; water rushed through pipes as toilets were flushed or sinks utilized; and bass and baritone voices mingled together in a symphony of all-male voices. But the most forceful noise of the entire night had been the lack of sound—the dark vacuum of unalterable silence surrounding the body in the garage.
“You’re going to be fine,” Cooper promised Ashley and took comfort from her sister’s warmth and the fruity smell of her hair. “But I think it will be awhile before things feel normal again.” She touched Ashley on her smooth cheek. “I’m not saying that to worry you, but I want you to be prepared.”
“What should I do?” Ashley clung to her sister’s hand.
“Talk to your husband. You need to comfort one another.” Cooper hesitated and then felt compelled to add, “And pray. For the cops, for the victim’s family, for strength.” She smiled tiredly. “Then rest. That’s all you can do. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
After the sisters embraced again, Cooper stepped into the darkness. The clouds had thinned, allowing for a scattering of lonesome stars in the tar-black sky. Their weak twinkling seemed cold, standoffish.
Light from Ashley’s open garage spilled onto the pebbled driveway in the form of a slanted square. The shadow of a gurney and of the two men lifting their burden into a white van fell upon the light and then, even the shadows were gone.
Within a few hours, the house would grow still, the lights would go off, and the silence would spread out and reclaim its dominion.
4
And if you walk in my ways and obey my statutes and commands as David your father did, I will give you a long life.
1 Kings 3:14 (NIV)
Cooper felt like a zombie the next day at work. After briefly telling Angela what had happened the night before, the office manager quickly restructured the daily schedule, giving Emilio the repair calls and putting Cooper on shredder detail.
Moving through office after office as she emptied document bins stuffed with tight nests of white paper proved to be the perfect occupation for Cooper’s fatigued body and restless mind. She called Ashley during her lunch hour but barely recognized her sister’s voice.
“What a nightmare!” Ashley croaked as though her throat was inflamed. “I had to go to the police station and give a formal statement this morning. Early!” she added indignantly. “It’s not like we got any sleep last night. When we finally did crawl into bed, I told Lincoln that if he had the slightest notion about what was going on, it was his one and only chance to come clean with me.”
“And?”
“He swore that he was as shocked as I was,” Ashley said through a yawn. “I believed him. But we still couldn’t sleep, so we talked about all kinds of stuff, Coop—the way we used to when we were first married. I know this sounds awful, but that poor man in the trunk reunited us.”
Taking a bite out of her Chick-fil-A sandwich, Cooper murmured tiredly, “I’m glad for you.”
“The police tramped all through the house again this morning and those two investigators are at the West End dealership right now. That’s where Miguel worked as the head lot attendant. The poor man,” she repeated. “Now that I know his name I can think of him as a real person and not . . . the body in the car.” She paused. “I can’t stop wondering about him. Has his mama heard about what happened yet? Was he married? Does he have little children waiting for him to come home?” Ashley’s voice cracked on the word “home.”
“I’ve been thinking the same things,” Cooper admitted and pushed her waffle fries away. She no longer had any interest in her lunch. “I feel like I’ve been moving through a fog bank today. I can’t get the image of him out of my mind.” She gazed around the eatery. Although she saw hassled mothers, raucous children begging for ice cream, and a group of old men in wool hats arguing about local politics as they stuffed their pockets with condiment packets, they left no impression on her. Not even the man making balloon animals could displace the sallow, waxen face and the tape-covered mouth of a lot attendant named Miguel.
Ashley sniffed. Cooper could hear her blowing her nose delicately in the background. When she spoke again, she was calm and clear-headed. “Thanks for coming over last night, Coop. I couldn’t have handled it without you. Did you get home okay?”
“Edward had my truck ready to go, as promised.”
“Ah, the mysterious Edward. The dark knight to the rescue,” Ashley attempted levity. “And what does Nathan have to say about his competition?”
Cooper stuffed the remains of her lunch in the trash and tried to ignore the guilt stirring in her stomach. “I haven’t told him yet. All I wanted to do last night was crawl into my warm bed and sleep for days, but I’ll call him later. Maybe I’ll cook him a nice dinner. It depends how tired I am tonight.”
There was something judgmental about the way Ashley murmured, “Hmm.”
“What are you not saying, Ashley?” Cooper demanded as she hurried out to the Make It Work! shredder truck, which took up four parking spots and released a noxious cloud of black smoke when the ignition was fired up.
�
��Nothing.” Ashley’s reply was nearly drowned out by the chugging of the truck engine. “It just sounds like you might have forgotten that today’s Grammy’s birthday and we’re all having supper at Mama and Daddy’s house. Including Nathan. You invited him weeks ago. I remember because I thought it was so sweet that he insisted on getting Grammy a present.”
Slapping the steering wheel, Cooper moaned. “Her gift! I don’t have time to pick it up now! Look, I’ve got to go. If I’m going to make it to the camera store before they close at five, I’d better get my work finished.”
“Just don’t mention our . . . unpleasant experience in front of Grammy. Mama doesn’t want anything to spoil her special evening. I expect she’ll be waiting for you with a pile of cookies when you get home.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing her in the kitchen with some butterscotch squares.” Cooper easily conjured an image of her mother engaged in a flurry of agitated baking as she waited for her oldest daughter to return from work. “But I doubt we can keep this from Grammy. She’s mighty sharp and it’s not going to be easy to act like nothing’s happened.”
Ashley sighed. “I know, but Grammy’s a woman. All women are easily distracted by pretty things, and I’m bringing her some jaw-dropping, eye-popping, let’s-not-talk-about-babies-or-dead-men-named-Miguel pretty things.”
Cooper disagreed with her materialistic sister about their chances of fooling their observant grandmother, but chose to remain quiet. She spent the rest of the workday emptying document bins as though she were engaged in a competitive sport and arrived at the camera store ten minutes before closing.
The clerk, a plump and friendly retiree named Janice, immediately recognized Cooper. Reaching below the counter, she proudly showed off the results of their joint planning. Once Janice was convinced that Cooper was completely delighted with the present, she wrapped it in tissue paper and then slid it into a gift bag decorated with birthday balloons.
The Way of the Guilty Page 5
