The Way of the Guilty

by Jennifer Stanley

  “Who could ask for a more perfect boss?” Alek puckered her lips and scrutinized the monogrammed hand towels. “And his silly little wife? She’s no threat to me.” This remark was followed by a derisive snort. She appraised her reflection with satisfaction, and then her mouth formed a twisted smile and her shoulders shook in silent mirth.

  Cooper backed away from the door and retreated to the dining room. Ashley and Lincoln had separated and were sipping their coffee while talking softly to one another. It was time to leave the married couple alone.

  “I’m going to call it a night, you two.” She gave Ashley a kiss on the cheek and squeezed Lincoln’s shoulder as Alek entered the room. “Thank you for a lovely dinner.” She smiled at Alek, though she felt more like tossing a glass of red wine in the woman’s face instead. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Confident that the arrogant and thoroughly unpleasant woman wouldn’t linger much longer, Cooper showed herself out.

  11

  Flowers appear on the earth;

  the season of singing has come,

  the cooing of doves

  is heard in our land.

  Song of Solomon 2:12 (NIV)

  Angela was back at her desk the next day, surrounded by such an abundance of red, pink, and blush-colored roses that Cooper had to part the blooms in order to see her friend’s face.

  “Looks like Valentine’s Day came early,” she commented as Angela’s mouth curved into an illuminating smile.

  Jumping up from her chair, Angela raced around her desk as quickly as she could in four-inch, patent leather pumps and threw her arms around Cooper. “Cupid sure found me, thanks to you!” She dropped her arms and tugged on her form-fitting, bubble-gum pink sweater, which had snaked up over her curvy hips. “There I was, at my hairdresser’s, busy lookin’ at the latest pictures of Britney and Lindsay and that delicious George Clooney, when Ginny hands me a letter.”

  “Written by a plump cherub with wings?” Cooper teased.

  Angela wiggled a red, manicured talon at her. “My man’s a little round, but then again, so am I. That’s why we fit so well together when we’re snugglin’ in bed.” She raised and lowered her eyebrows impishly.

  Cooper put her hands over her eyes. “I do not need that kind of visual of my boss, thank you very much.”

  “Anyhow,” Angela continued, “I open the thing, read it, and leapt right outta my seat. Well, not right out, seein’ as I was under the dryer. I smacked my head on that thing like nobody’s business, but it knocked a lick of sense into me. How could I have assumed the worst without even askin’ my man for an explanation? I never even gave him the courtesy of hearin’ his side of the matter.”

  “The important thing is that you’re back together and that you’re the one answering the office phones again.” Cooper pointed at the apparatus. “I don’t know how you do it, Angela. You’re sweetness and courtesy all day long, no matter how crazed or demanding our clients act.”

  “Oh, I draw nasty pictures of the ones who are mean to me. Why do you think I burn through notebooks so fast?” Angela winked. “Now. I’ve got a little gift for you for covering for me and for bein’ such an amazing friend.”

  Cooper gathered the day’s work orders. “You didn’t have to get me anything. I’m thrilled to see you and Mr. Farmer happy. That’s reward enough.”

  “I knew you’d say somethin’ silly like that, but you can’t return this gift, so you’re gonna have to accept it!” Angela grabbed Cooper’s hand and led her to Mr. Farmer’s unoccupied office.

  There, huddled in a shallow basket lined with a green gingham blanket, were two black and white kittens. Judging from the pink and blue rhinestone collars Angela had placed around their necks, Cooper concluded the tiny cats were brother and sister.

  “You need company in that apartment of yours,” Angela whispered. “These guys are too young to go outside ’til spring, so all three of you can snuggle away the rest of the winter. Or, all four of you, if Nathan’s there, too.” She reached into the basket, removed the male kitten from within, and placed him in Cooper’s arms. “Or is it Edward you’re gettin’ cozy with these days?”

  The kitten opened his yellow eyes, yawned, and began to knead her chest with his little claws. Cooper nuzzled her face against the fur of his chin and he immediately began to purr.

  “Precious thing,” she murmured. “You smell like clean clothes fresh from the dryer.” Reluctantly, she placed the kitten back into its warm nest and gently stroked the top of his sister’s head. The little cat wriggled a bit in her sleep and the black line of her mouth curved into a contented grin, but she did not open her eyes. Cooper turned to Angela. “I can’t believe you got me kittens! That’s a pretty high-risk gift! What if I was allergic or didn’t like cats?” she teased.

  “Please! Your Grammy’s practically a reincarnation of Noah. You could never turn away a homeless animal.” Gloating, Angela crossed her arms. “And I knew you and these furry treasures needed each another. Mr. Farmer will keep an eye on ’em today and I’ve got a carrier for you to use to bring the sweet darlin’s home, but I imagine you’ll be off to Food Lion durin’ your lunch break. Good thing you got that raise and can support your new family. Take it from me—gourmet pet food’s more expensive per ounce than filet mignon!”

  Cooper caressed the kittens again and then sat still for a moment, watching the rise and fall of their sides as they slumbered. “Thank you, Angela. Aside from my pin,” she brushed her fingers against the silver butterfly attached above her nametag, “this is the most unexpected and wonderful gift ever!”

  “Just like the love Mr. Farmer and I share.” Angela smiled dreamily.

  Rolling her eyes, Cooper collected the work orders from the floor. “It’s a good thing the office is empty for most of the day. You and Mr. Farmer can flirt with one another right until the whistle blows and no one’s going to overhear your sweet nothings.”

  “That won’t be true for long!” Angela replied cheerfully as she examined her reflection in the compact that never seemed to be out of reach. “I’m gettin’ an assistant. I can’t handle the phones, the incoming orders, the inventory, and the books, so Mr. Farmer’s lettin’ me hire a part-time girl to do the stuff I don’t have time for.”

  “Are you putting an ad in the paper?” Cooper asked.

  “Yep. I only wish I could write ‘cute girls need not apply!’ I’m not lettin’ any hot-blooded young things around my man. I aim to be Mrs. Farmer by this time next year—and I’ll be a helluvalot more pleasant than the other Mrs. Farmer!” With that, Angela sashayed down the hall to her desk.

  Over the course of the morning, Cooper visited her favorite elementary school to perform a quarterly service on their leased copier, tweaked the drum of a finicky Hewlett-Packard at the Bank of America, and completed a roller replacement in a laser printer at a podiatrist’s office. She gulped down an Italian sub and an orange for lunch and spent a tidy pile of money buying food, litter supplies, and toys at PetCo. After that, she dashed to Mr. Farmer’s office to cuddle her kittens before settling down in the small Make It Work! conference room to await Bobby Weller, the first of the day’s three interviews.

  Cooper reviewed the questions on her legal pad and tried to still the butterflies in her belly. She’d never been on the hiring end of a job interview before and was surprised to find the reversal unnerving. After all, the two new hires would be working on her team, and her decisions would determine the overall success of her department. Not only that, but Cooper wanted to be worthy of the position and the praise Mr. Farmer had given her.

  After reviewing Bobby Weller’s application once more, Cooper decided to peruse the Times-Dispatch until he arrived. As usual, the front page was filled with gloom. The text decried a sinking stock market, a senator caught cheating on his spouse, and the emotional funeral service given for the young girl killed in the East End shooting the week before. It was quite a pessimistic montage.

  Cooper sighed a
nd turned the page, hoping for a shred of uplifting news, when a column detailing the slaying of a Hispanic man named Hector Gutierrez caught her eye.

  Could it be the Hector that made me my fake license? she wondered, her heart thumping more quickly as her anxiety mounted. She read the sparse account of the twenty-one-year-old’s death. According to the reporter, Hector had been shot, execution-style, in the back of the head, and his body had been dumped at a construction site near one of Richmond’s upscale shopping centers. The police were quoted stating they were actively following several leads but had no further information to share with the public at this point in their investigation.

  Cooper was frustrated by the lack of detail given in the article. “It’s like Miguel’s death all over again.” She closed her eyes and whispered a brief prayer for Hector’s family and for the members of the police force. As she concluded, she heard Angela’s voice in the hall and jumped up from her seat in order to meet Bobby Weller at the door, but not before tearing the article from the paper.

  I’ve got to find out more about this victim, she thought solemnly and then turned to greet her first candidate.

  Bobby was in his mid-forties and had grease-stained fingers, an honest, open face, and a generous paunch. As he shook Cooper’s hand, his eyes crinkled with good humor and, after holding out her chair, proceeded to answer her questions with a relaxed and confident air. Having repaired televisions, computers, and most recently, motorcycles, Bobby informed Cooper that he was ready for a job with consistent hours and more growth potential.

  “I’ve got six kids, so the benefits package you’re offering is mighty attractive, too.” Bobby produced photographs from his wallet and passed them across the table. Cooper looked over the smiling faces of the Weller brood and then pointed at what appeared to be a prom photo of Bobby and a woman who could have doubled as his sister, so similar were their builds and round, smiling faces. “Is this your wife?” she asked him.

  “Yep, that’s the missus. We were high school sweethearts. Went to the prom and never stopped dancin’.”

  Cooper returned the photographs, told Bobby she’d let him know her decision by the end of the week, and wished him a pleasant day. She made a few, quick notes on his application and wondered if the rest of the applicants would be as personable and qualified as Mr. Weller. “This could be tougher than I thought.”

  The next candidate was a man named Frankie Kepple. Cooper expected him to be waiting outside by the time Bobby left, but she had time to read the paper’s movie reviews and complete the crossword before Angela knocked on the door again. The man she invited into the room was not the tardy Frankie Kepple, but Edward Crosby.

  “I think your two o’clock’s a no-show,” Angela remarked while overtly ogling Edward. “But this man insisted he see you and he comes bearin’ gifts, so I had to let him in.” Angela winked and walked out of the room.

  Edward produced a sheepish smile and laid a bouquet of stargazer lilies on the conference table. “I tried to come off as the FTD guy, but that woman sized me up in two seconds and gave me the full Law & Order interrogation. Damn. I told her my name, how I know you, and all about my jobs.” He shook his head. “The CIA should recruit her. She’s good.”

  Cooper grinned. “It’s true. Angela’s our gatekeeper and a woman of many talents, but you might have gotten past her had you not been dressed in your RoomStore delivery uniform.”

  He looked down at his embroidered shirt. “I tried to cover the letters up with the flowers. Shoulda bought a bigger bunch.”

  The conference room seemed to have grown smaller in size now that Edward was there. Cooper shifted on her feet and did her best to appear relaxed and in control. “So, other than pretending to work for FTD, what are you doing here?” She gestured at one of the vacant seats. “Did you find out who’s dealing China White?”

  Edward nodded smugly. “I got the name of the big fish. Guy named Albion. I’ve heard of him before, but since he operates in a different part of the city than I used to, we never butted horns.” He laced his fingers together and stared at Cooper. “But I know where he spends his time. That’s why I’m here. Check your calendar, ’cause we’re goin’ to Club Satin to pay him a visit Saturday night.”

  Cooper blanched. “Club Satin! That’s a strip club!”

  “Sure is.” Edward seemed to revel in Cooper’s discomfort. “But there’s a pool tourney there this weekend, so there’ll be other girls there besides the ones with bills hanging out of their panties. Can you shoot pool at all?”

  “Yes.” Cooper was angered by Edward’s dismissive remark concerning the dancers. “I’m pretty good, actually.” She cleared her throat. “But I’ve never played in front of drug dealers and half-naked women before, so I might be a bit off my game.”

  “Or you’ll focus so hard we’ll beat the tar outta the other players and go home with a wad of cash,” Edward countered and then stood up. “The competition is our cover. You’re gonna have to be the one to approach Albion. Word is he likes good-looking blondes. I’m afraid that rules me out.”

  Gripping the arms of her chair, Cooper shook her head. “He’ll know something’s fishy if I talk to him. I can’t fool him into thinking I’m a heroin user!” Her heartbeat accelerated as she pictured the scene. “This is totally crazy, Edward. If this man is responsible for Miguel’s murder, we could get killed too! It’s time to bring in the police.”

  “No cops!” Edward was at her side in seconds. “They’d blow our cover and then things will turn bloody. If we can get close enough to Albion to be sure he’s dealing China White, then we know where the kill order on Miguel came from. Albion can be the cops’ problem after that.” He reached out and touched the tip of her chin. “Trust me, Cooper. No one’s gonna harm one hair on your head.” He exhaled and backed away. “I’ll pick you up at nine. And wear what you had on last time we went out. Albion’s sure to like that teeny, tiny skirt. I know I did.” With an amused smile, he left the room.

  Cooper stared at his empty chair for a moment, and then hastened to the locker room where she dug Mr. Johnson’s card from her purse. “Sorry, Edward,” she murmured as she opened her cell phone and began to dial. “I guess I don’t trust you quite that much.”

  Afterward, she crossed Frankie Kepple off her list of potential candidates and awaited her last interview of the day. Josh Whitaker arrived out of breath, rumpled, and full of apologies.

  “It’s okay. You’re not late,” she assured him.

  He smiled in relief. “That’s good, because this old lady’s radiator was smokin’ and I just couldn’t pass her by. I know I look a right mess, but I just had to stop.”

  Despite the oil stain on his tie and the strong smell of cigarette smoke seeping from his wrinkled sports coat, Josh was also a strong candidate for the job. He was able to present a glowing recommendation from his current employer—a mom-and-pop copier repair company that would be closing its doors by the end of the month—and colored with embarrassment when Cooper read select passages aloud.

  “I’m sure gonna miss Mr. and Mrs. Peterman. They’ve been working for thirty years,” Josh explained. “And their kids both live in Florida. They wanna move while they can still pick up their grandbabies and bounce them on their knees.”

  “Well, even though this is your first job since graduating high school, you sure have picked up a lot of skills working for the Petermans. They’ve written you a truly amazing letter.” She smiled. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were waiting outside right now.”

  Josh’s young face flushed. “They fuss over me like I’m one of their kids. I’m sure gonna miss Mrs. P’s home-cooked lunches. I don’t even know how to scramble my own eggs.”

  Cooper laughed. “You’re probably a lot healthier for not eating Subway and Burger King and Mexican takeout like the rest of us. And my mama’s a gourmet cookie baker, so I eat cookies every single day on top of all that junk.”

  “They’re not Magnolia’s Marvels,
are they?” Josh asked.

  When Cooper informed him that Magnolia was indeed her mother, Josh fairly leapt from his chair.

  “When Mr. P. was sick last year, he lost so much weight you could practically see through the man. For a whole week the only thing he’d touch were Magnolia’s Marvels oatmeal raisin and butterscotch clusters. Tell your mama she saved Mr. P’s life!”

  Cooper promised she would pass the anecdote on and then wrapped up her interview with the enthusiastic young man. The last thing she did before packing her kittens into the new carrier was to call and confirm appointments with the three remaining candidates. If those men turned out to be as talented and friendly as Bobby and Josh, Cooper knew she’d be faced with some difficult decisions. Still, she left the office with a newfound confidence that made her feel ten feet tall.

  “I am cut out for management!” she informed her mewling kittens as she eased the carrier onto the passenger seat. “I hope you two like the Beatles,” she said, pressed the skip button on her CD player until it reached ‘With a Little Help from My Friends,’ and motored toward home.

  She’d barely released the kittens from the carrier and changed into jeans and a periwinkle sweater when she heard a car pull into the driveway. Seeing that it was Nathan’s car, she quickly brushed her hair and applied frosted pink lip gloss. By the time he knocked and entered the apartment, she was out of the bathroom and in the kitchen, filling a bowl with water for the kittens.

  “Oh! More flowers!” she said by way of greeting when he presented her with a bouquet of fragrant white orchids.

  “More?” Nathan looked confused. “I haven’t given you any for ages.”

  Flustered, Cooper pictured Edward’s grinning face above the bunch of stargazer lilies. Pushing thoughts of Edward’s visit away, she touched Nathan on the arm. “I’m glad you’re here. I really need to talk to you.”

  She placed the orchids into a glass pitcher and popped the tops off two bottles of Miller Lite. After clinking rims, Nathan and Cooper sat across from one another at the kitchen table. Cooper put her bottle on the table and began peeling off the label as she talked. “Nathan, I don’t know how what I’m about to say is going to affect our relationship, but I cannot keep this from you another second.” She met his concerned eyes and hesitated. “Oh, I don’t want to hurt you! I’d never intentionally do that! But Nathan, I’ve been feeling drawn away from you lately. I didn’t plan it, but it happened.” She gulped. “I feel tempted.”