The Way of the Guilty

by Jennifer Stanley

  “You two speakin’ ill of the nearly departed?” Grammy asked crossly from the next room.

  “Your hearin’ seems to be just fine now!” Earl responded with a smirk. Lowering his voice, he leaned toward Cooper. “It wasn’t ten minutes ago that I begged her to change the channel so I could hear the spring-trainin’ news, but she pretended her ears weren’t workin’.”

  “Well, who wants to hear a bunch of men yappin’ about baseball? I like to watch those boys in tight pants as much as the next woman, but not when Cary Grant’s on TV. No sirree!”

  Earl threw out his hands in surrender.

  As Cooper set the table, she hummed the Beatles’ “Do You Want to Know a Secret.” All day long, she’d been feeling as though a burden had been lifted from her heart. Now that her encounter with Albion the drug lord was over, she felt as though she could truly trust Rich Johnson and his task force to put the devil clothed in white behind bars.

  I wonder if anyone knows Albion’s last name. No one ever mentioned it, she thought briefly but the ringing of the doorbell banished further thoughts of the sinister criminal.

  Cooper opened the door to find Nathan standing on the welcome mat, his face partially obscured by a spray of pink roses.

  “How beautiful!” she declared and reached for the flowers.

  Looking sheepish, Nathan held them out of reach. “Sorry, lady. These are for your mother.”

  Maggie made a big deal of her gift, hugging Nathan against her generous bosom while she chastised him about spending too much money. “I’m glad enough just to have you here, dear boy! You don’t ever have to come bearin’ gifts, you hear?”

  “Of course I do,” he argued pleasantly. “I’m being fed dinners that would put Emeril Lagasse to shame! The least I can do is find a way to show my gratitude to the master chef.” Nathan extricated himself from Maggie’s warm embrace in order to remove his overcoat.

  “Master chef, huh?” Maggie mused. “I like the sound of that.” She elbowed Earl as he removed a pitcher of sweet tea from the refrigerator. “I think you should start callin’ me master chef from now on.”

  Deadpan, Earl replied, “We all know who the master of this house has been since day one. I’m just grateful to bask in your light, my love.”

  Ashley and Lincoln arrived amid the laughter. The married couple had their arms linked and seemed to be leaning against one another for support. Suddenly, Cooper remembered that they had spent several hours with Hector Gutierrez’s bereaved mother the day before. The experience must have taken its toll on them both.

  “How did your visit with Maria go?” Cooper asked softly while she and Ashley hung up coats on the hall tree.

  “It was really hard, but I’m glad we went.” Ashley unwrapped a chenille scarf from her neck and draped it over her coat. “You were right about her just needing to talk. We just sat there and listened. Every now and again I’d pat her hand. Lincoln’s decided to set up a scholarship fund in Hector’s name. When Maria heard that, she smiled for the first time since we got to her apartment.” Ashley sighed. “After we left her place, I kept thinking about how someone can go on living after they’ve lost a child. I’d just crawl into my bed and give up.”

  “That’s not true,” Cooper replied softly. “You haven’t quit trying to have a child, even though things have gotten rocky. You didn’t give up on your marriage and you’ve always stuck by me through thick and thin. You’re made of tougher stuff than you think.”

  Ashley ran her hands through her silky, blonde mane and grinned, pleased by the compliment. “Maybe. And now you’ve given me just the opening I was looking for.” She glanced down the hall to make sure no one was nearby. “I’ll tell you a secret.” She paused for effect. “I’m late.”

  Cooper shrugged. “What else is new? You’re always late. Shoot, I had to hold the schoolbus for you for years!”

  “No, no!” Rolling her eyes, Ashley pointed at her belly. “This kind of late.”

  “And?” Cooper grabbed Ashley by the shoulders, longing to shake the news out of her.

  “It’s too early to take a home pregnancy test. I’ll have to wait a few more days.” Ashley put her finger over her lips. “Don’t say anything to anybody about this, but Coop, I already feel different.”

  Examining her sister’s hopeful face, Cooper felt a rush of excitement course through her body. She hugged Ashley and whispered into her hair, “I pray it’s true, sis.”

  “Just think,” Ashley murmured happily. “It’d be a Halloween baby.”

  “A treat for all of us,” Cooper said with an affectionate smile and the two sisters rejoined the rest of the family.

  Over dinner, Nathan and Cooper told a filtered version of their Valentine’s Day activities. They completely omitted all mention of Club Satin and instead focused on the revitalization of the East End elementary school.

  “Wait until that principal finds out you’ve got three thousand dollars to spend on healthy snacks for those kids!” Maggie stated buoyantly as she served Nathan a second helping of beef burgundy.

  “We may have more than that,” he replied, happily eying the squares of wine-soaked meat served over egg noodles. “There was a special collection at church yesterday and I believe folks dug real deep. That school might be receiving a year’s worth of fruit as well as a crateful of new books for the library and a computer or two. We’re going to let Quinton tell the principal the good news because he convinced the execs at his company to match the donations penny for penny.” Spearing a piece of meat with his fork, Nathan added, “I’m so glad he found someone who’ll appreciate his big heart.”

  “Hrmph! He’s likely to get hitched before you two do,” Grammy issued an irascible mutter while chewing on a mouthful of glazed carrots. “Nice girls really do finish last.”

  Refusing to rise to her baiting, Cooper reached across the table and took her grandmother’s hand. “I’m doing just fine, Grammy. I’ve got a new position at work, a loyal group of friends, a wonderful boyfriend, and the folks around this table—my precious family.”

  “Oh, please!” Grammy scowled. “I ain’t talkin’ about you here. I don’t wanna be in a wheelchair by the time you two get yourselves into the church to take your vows! I do not wanna be wearin’ a diaper when y’all say ‘I do!’ ”

  “Let’s just enjoy the here and now,” Ashley cut in as the rest of the diners tried not to laugh. “What did you whip up for dessert, Mama? I’m still hungry.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I declare, Ashley! I’ve never seen you put away so much food!” She observed her daughter thoughtfully and then collected several empty dishes. “I was in the mood for somethin’ pretty, so I made a triple-berry lemon trifle. That oughta coat your Grammy’s sharp tongue with a layer of sugar.” She leaned over and kissed her mother-in-law on the cheek.

  “You shoulda had sons,” Grammy growled at Earl, who rose to assist with clearing the dishes.

  Earl walked to the sink, deposited a few dinner plates into the basin and returned to the table for more. Before refilling his hands, he placed one on the top of each daughter’s head. “Not only did the Lord bless me with these two jewels, but he’s brought me sons in His own way.”

  Lincoln and Nathan smiled shyly over being included in Earl’s blessings. Maggie, who was prone to tears at the slightest provocation, dabbed at her eyes with her apron corner and placed a trifle cup under Grammy’s nose. “Dig in, darlin’. We all know you’re grumpy because that handsome boy you liked got voted off American Idol. You’ve been seein’ red since Thursday!”

  “And why not? That Simon doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about!” Grammy remarked heatedly, lifting a loaded spoonful of trifle toward her mouth. “I’d like to put him over my knee and give him a sound spankin’.”

  Lincoln laughed. “I’d pay money to see that!” He then turned to his wife, who was shoveling down spoonfuls of fruit and custard as though she were a participant in a trifle-eating competition. “S
low down, honey! You’re going to have an upset stomach if you keep up that rate.”

  Pausing for breath, Ashley sat back in her chair, looking rather green. Suddenly, she put her hand over her mouth, whispered, “Too late,” and jumped up from the table.

  The sounds of her being sick echoed down the hall from the bathroom.

  “I sure hope she ain’t got the flu,” Grammy muttered and continued to eat her trifle with salubrious gusto. “But I’ll finish her dessert if she can’t.”

  Cooper met Lincoln’s eyes. “I hope she isn’t contagious.”

  Brother- and sister-in-law exchanged covert smiles.

  Monday came and went in a flash. Cooper interviewed the final three candidates for her new division and was now going to have to reach a decision over whom to hire. She felt that the day’s first two interviewees were too inexperienced when it came to working with machines, but the third candidate was highly skilled in not only the repair of office machines, but of all makes of computers as well. Minutes before he’d arrived, Cooper had just been mulling over the possibility of expanding her division to include computer repair and tech support, thereby turning Make It Work! into a comprehensive remedy for all the problems Richmond businesses might encounter. So it seemed as though Donny Mahanoy, a good-looking, clean-cut twenty-eight-year-old, was exactly what she needed.

  But I don’t like him, she thought, frowning as she reviewed the young man’s application once again.

  Donny had sauntered into the conference room, taken her hand with unnecessary firmness, and had then proceeded to brag about his “nimble fingers.” Cooper had had a tough time asking him any pertinent questions because he’d continuously interrupted her. He also stated that he preferred to work alone because he’d never met a coworker who could comprehend his “mathematical mind” or keep pace with his “Einstein-like problem-solving abilities.”

  “You’re arrogant, rude, and are definitely not a team player.” Cooper made notes on Donny’s application. “To summarize: Your nimble fingers, mathematical mind, and Einstein-like intelligence aren’t worth it.”

  It was a delightful task to be able to phone the two men she planned to hire and welcome them to the Make It Work! team. Bobby was especially happy and thanked her effusively while his wife issued jubilant screeches in the background.

  By five o’clock that afternoon, Cooper had finished all her work for the day and was in the middle of buttoning her coat when she looked up to see Angela leading a troupe of people down the hall.

  “We were just lookin’ for you!” Angela trilled. “This here is Mrs. Weller and her children. They’ve brought you a goodie.”

  “You’re such a blessing!” Mrs. Weller cried and thrust a pie into Cooper’s hands. The warmth of it soaked right into her palms and the smell of cooked apples and cinnamon permeated the tea towel wrapper. Cooper’s stomach gurgled audibly. “Did you know Bobby was let go on Friday?” Mrs. Weller asked.

  Cooper shook her head, but didn’t get a chance to speak.

  “Yes, indeed!” the woman declared breathlessly. “The garage had to make cutbacks and the other employee was the owner’s son-in-law, so guess who got fired? We’ve spent a good part of the weekend on our knees and our prayers were answered by your phone call today.” She crossed her hands over her heart. “I know this isn’t professional, to come down here like this, but my heart was burstin’ with joy and relief and I just had to bake you somethin’. Bakin’s all I’m good at, aside from makin’ babies.”

  Cooper ran her eyes over the Weller brood. The children were all sandy-haired, freckled, and polite. They also looked hungry. “Would you come into the conference room and share this pie with me? I’d love to get to know you all a bit.”

  Angela treated the children to Cokes from the vending machine while Cooper brewed coffee for the adults. For the next half an hour, she and Angela listened to the Wellers as they talked, laughed, and argued with the boisterous harmony of a large family.

  Later, her hunger stifled by a thick slice of pie and two cups of coffee, Cooper left the office and drove to the nearest grocery store in order to pick up yet another bag of cat litter and a six-pack of tuna fish. She was surprised, upon taking her place in the long express line, to find Investigator McNamara standing directly in front of her.

  He seemed lost in thought, so Cooper tapped him lightly on the arm and he swung around abruptly, knocking the cans of tuna from her hands and spilling the baggie of red grapes he’d been carrying.

  “Clean up on aisle ten,” he joked and scrambled to collect the cans and capture the errant grapes before anyone could step on them. “Sorry about that. My mind was far away.”

  “Were you thinking about a case?” Cooper inquired, her eyes lit with curiosity.

  “Indeed.” He turned away in order to place his items on the conveyor belt and then, once his order was bagged, stepped aside to wait for Cooper. “May I carry that litter to your car?” the policeman offered gallantly.

  “Yes, please,” Cooper accepted and the pair stepped into the dark February evening together. “Can you tell me if there’s been any progress in Miguel’s case? Have you been in contact with . . . Mr. Johnson?” She’d almost called him Batman and had caught herself just in time.

  The ghost of a smile crossed McNamara’s face and Cooper wondered if he was aware of his fellow officer’s nickname. “Can we sit inside for a moment?” He gestured at Cherry-O. “This is a fine truck. An oldie but a goodie.”

  “She prefers the term vintage,” Cooper whispered in collusion and unlocked the doors. She turned on the engine and directed one of the dashboard heating vents toward McNamara.

  “You played a dangerous game Saturday night,” he began without preamble. “Ivan is sure to suspect you. Even though he’s been brought in for questioning in regards to Miguel’s murder and may be detained overnight, he’s got plenty of minions available to carry out his wishes.” His eyes grew dark as he turned to Cooper. “One of his wishes might be to find and punish you.”

  Cooper felt anger, not fear, sparking inside of her. “Just like he snapped his fingers and had Miguel killed? He doesn’t know a thing about me.”

  Shaking his head in disgust, McNamara said, “Do not underestimate him. I believe you were one of the last people to see Hector Gutierrez alive. It wouldn’t take much for Ivan to discover you were snooping around the video store and Club Satin.”

  Cooper blanched. “So that was the Hector from Doc Buster’s? That man, that boy, was shot in the back of the head! He was Maria’s son!” She felt sick to her stomach. Fumbling with the window crank, she fought back nausea while inhaling a rush of cold air.

  McNamara nodded. “Miguel, possibly Hector Gutierrez, and many others have been Ivan’s victims. We’re building a case against this scum. Very carefully. If there’s a hole in it, Ivan will slither through it and escape. Again.”

  Ignoring the warning behind that latter bit, Cooper focused on his first sentence. “What is the connection between Hector and Miguel?”

  “Forged IDs and Love Motors,” McNamara answered. “Investigator Wiser and I found their common denominator in Hector’s room.”

  “Club Satin?” Cooper guessed.

  “Yes. They visited frequently. To get paid, to run product, we don’t have hard proof yet. We believe Miguel was a squirrel—a drug runner for Ivan. He probably skimmed from the take and was murdered because of his theft.” He sighed. “We’re not sure why Ivan would rub out Hector.”

  Cooper grabbed the policeman’s arm. “Because of me? I brought up Miguel’s name. He mentioned the words China White. He said them in Spanish but he also warned me not to go near Miguel’s boss.” Tears filled her eyes. “Hector’s boss overheard the warning, I’m sure of it. It’s because of me that he’s dead!”

  “No, Ms. Lee,” McNamara told her firmly. “Hector Gutierrez was killed because he was involved in the criminal underworld. He was an underling and his superior was disappointed with his job performance.�
� After gently patting Cooper’s hand, McNamara shifted in his seat, making it clear that the discussion was nearing an end. “These young men were dependent on Ivan. I can’t prove that yet, but I will. They were small-time crooks, both looking to make it rich quick by serving a fickle master.”

  “Who clearly viewed them as expendable,” Cooper said sadly, still distraught over the idea that she’d had something to do with Hector’s demise.

  McNamara’s tone matched Cooper’s as he muttered, “There are dozens of young men just like them waiting to fill their shoes.”

  “But why Hispanics? Is there something special about their ethnic background? Hector wasn’t an illegal, was he?”

  The question seemed to force McNamara into silence. Placing both hands on the dashboard, he stared out through the windshield. “I’ve only told you this much because I don’t want to receive a call in which I learn that a beautiful, young woman has been murdered. I want you to hear me when I tell you to lie low until we’ve got what we need to put Ivan behind bars for good.”

  “It sounds to me as though you don’t have enough proof against him. He’s going to get away with murder, isn’t he?” Cooper’s anger grew hotter.

  McNamara’s jaw muscle tightened. “I’m warning you to stay out of this. You’ve helped, yes, but that’s enough. Do not jeopardize our case.” He opened the door, stepped out of the truck and then leaned back into the cab. “If you truly want to see justice done, let us do our jobs. Show some faith.” With that, he slammed the car door.

  Cooper immediately backed out of her parking spot, drew alongside the policeman as he walked to his cruiser, and opened her window. “Tell me one thing.”

  The investigator said nothing.

  “Is Ivan this guy’s first or last name?” she asked.

  “Last. His first name is Albion.” He turned his back in dismissal.