The Way of the Guilty

by Jennifer Stanley

  “But Hector . . . he wanted more and more as he grew into a man. He wanted a car and expensive clothes and video games. I couldn’t give him all of these things, so he started working for them, too. He was foolish, to steal from these people. Him and Miguel. Those silly boys wanted to live like movie stars, to forget that they were still foreigners here and might be for the rest of their lives.”

  She carefully reclaimed the photograph. “Envy. One of the deadly sins. It’s what truly killed them.” A tear plopped on the image, then another, the water distorting Hector’s grinning face. “The Bible says, ‘A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.’ ”

  Cooper had never heard that line of Scripture before. She touched the other woman’s hand. “I am sorry for what you’ve lost.”

  Maria placed a small cardboard box in front of her. “My heart has not been at peace since I came to this country, no matter how much I tried to deceive it. May God forgive me, forgive Nina, and forgive my son. This,” she pointed at the box, “will serve as our confession.”

  Assuming Maria intended for her to look inside the box, she reached for it. Suddenly, her hands were seized.

  “Swear to me you will not open this until tomorrow night!” Maria’s brown eyes were wide with dread. “By then, we’ll be gone. I can’t let any harm come to my sister! Nina is all I have left and I’m the one who talked her into . . . Just make me this promise. And if I don’t believe you I won’t give you the box!”

  “I swear,” Cooper assured the woman, meeting her frantic gaze and squeezing her hands to show her earnestness. She had no choice. “I swear to honor your request.”

  “After tomorrow, you can show it to the police. But I beg you—do not let Mr. Love take away the scholarship in Hector’s name. It is the only good to come from all of this wickedness.”

  “No matter what, there will be a scholarship. Lincoln doesn’t go back on his word.” Cooper prayed she was speaking the truth. After all, if he discovered Maria was also a criminal, he might feel too betrayed to establish such a fund. Shaking her head, Cooper knew she couldn’t think about such things now. “Are you going back to Mexico?”

  Without answering, Maria rose and looked at the box at Cooper’s feet with disdain. “Do not let envy spoil your life. Be grateful for what God has given you.” Her lips trembled as she clasped Hector’s picture against her chest.

  “I will,” Cooper promised and felt a wave of sorrow as Maria trudged across the dormant grass toward her house. Her posture was stooped, as though a heavy weight pressed down upon her back and the load was too much for her to bear. She shuffled forward like an old woman into the outstretched arms of her sister, who glanced at Cooper accusingly as if to say, “Look what you’ve done.”

  Though Cooper’s throat was tight with grief, she recognized that Maria’s exhaustion partially stemmed from speaking the truth. It had taken Maria’s last bit of strength and courage to entrust a stranger with her secrets. Cooper stared at the box. She knew the police would pry open the flaps within minutes and whisk Maria straight to the station for questioning, but Cooper had made a vow. She had accepted the transfer of the bereaved mother’s burden and it was now hers to carry.

  Glancing backward, Cooper saw the two older women locked in an embrace. Their shoulders shook as they cried in one another’s arms.

  Whatever you’re guilty of, Maria Gutierrez, Cooper thought, you deserve to be comforted.

  Collecting the box, she climbed quietly into her truck and drove off into the descending night.

  16

  “Why did you run off secretly and deceive me? Why didn’t you tell me, so I could send you away with joy and singing to the music of tambourines and harps?”

  Genesis 31:27 (NIV)

  To avoid temptation, Cooper put Maria’s box under her kitchen table. She didn’t even touch it before heading out the following morning. Its presence had haunted her all night, preventing her from falling asleep until well after the stroke of twelve.

  She’d tried calling Ashley to tell her about her conversation with Maria, but only succeeded in speaking to her answering machine. Nathan had offered to come over and take her mind off both Maria and the mysterious package, but Cooper had politely declined. What she most wanted was to sink into a tub filled with hot, lavender-scented water, and then bundle up in her flannel coffee-cup pajamas and read a book on the sofa with Moses and Miriam curled into twin balls of vibrating fur at her feet.

  Her attempts to lose herself in the pages of Oprah’s latest book-club pick had failed, so she’d turned on the television and watched American Idol mainly so she could discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the remaining contestants with Grammy.

  After the episode was over, Cooper flipped channels in search of something humorous or romantic, but every show seemed to be a crime drama. Forensic techs in pristine lab coats exchanged information with detectives in tailored suits on one channel. Uniformed policemen led a prisoner to his cell in another. There were historical crime shows, legal-themed crime shows, and paranormal crime shows. If Cooper wanted to watch anything else, she’d have to settle for an infomercial about a butt-toning machine or a Western. Neither choice was appealing.

  Cooper had switched off the TV and lay in silence for a moment. Moses yawned, stretched, and walked up the length of her body. He’d wiped his small face along her jaw line, his affectionate way of indicating that while he loved her, he would love her twice as much if she’d get up and serve him a snack.

  Kissing the top of the kitten’s soft head, she’d smiled. “I suppose you’d like a nice can of tuna?”

  At the word, Miriam’s head had whipped up from where it had been burrowed partially beneath Cooper’s slippered feet. Laughing, she’d scooped the kittens into her arms and carried them the short distance to the kitchen. Knowing she was fostering a bad habit, she placed both cats on the counter and dumped a small can of tuna onto a saucer. As they mewed in anticipation and nuzzled one another in excitement, Cooper drizzled tap water over the tuna and set the treat in front of the little cats.

  She’d listened to their contented lapping for a moment and then turned toward the kitchen table, as though lured by a powerful magnet.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to open the box,” Cooper had announced to her preoccupied felines. “But I can give it a little shake, right? That won’t hurt anybody.” Grasping the cardboard box in her hands, she’d shuffled it back and forth very gently. It sounded like the edges of a thin book banging against the sides.

  Whatever this is, she’d thought, it’s close in size to the box. It could be a book, or a bunch of standard-size papers, or an envelope of photographs! Her mind conjured numerous possibilities.

  “I’m not going to stand here and blindly guess!” she’d informed the object before returning it to the table. After brushing her teeth and putting on some moisturizer, she’d reentered the kitchen, picked up the box, and put it under the table out of sight. She’d then whiled away the rest of the evening working on a two thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle showing the various wares sold in an old-fashioned general store. After completing the edge pieces and a large chunk of the penny candy display, Cooper had finally gone to bed.

  Nestled under a down comforter and a soft, cotton blanket, Cooper had expected to drift off immediately, but her thoughts wandered. She recalled walking through Miguel’s apartment, touching the silk shirts hanging in neat rows in his closet, and discovering the drawer filled with cash. Images of Club Satin followed, then the newspaper article’s title about Hector’s execution-style murder, and finally, Maria’s hunched shoulders and weary gait as she walked into her sister’s waiting arms.

  Exasperated and exhausted, Cooper had thrown back the covers and stumbled in a groggy haze between sleep and wakefulness to the bathroom for a glass of water. As she’d filled the tumbler, Maria’s box seemed to call to her from the kitchen. Fortunately, she’d been too tired to be enticed by its contents and had shuffled back to
bed. She’d eventually drifted off to sleep, only to be plagued by fragments of unrelated but frightening images such as Miguel’s body in the trunk, a shark exposing its rows of daggerlike teeth, a pair of headlights in the rearview mirror.

  The final sequence had been downright scary, for it involved a lurking shadow in an empty, ice-covered parking lot. In her dream, Cooper had tried to open the door of her truck, knowing that she had to get inside and quickly. But no matter how hard she pulled and yanked at the handle, which was covered by a thick crust of unrelenting ice, the door would not budge. She knew, without turning, that someone was coming for her, hunting her like some silent panther. Crying, she pleaded for the door to give way, struggling with all her might to get it open. When she felt the stalker’s breath on her neck, she woke up.

  Never had the weak light of a February morning been so welcome.

  Cooper was thankful to be so busy at work that same day. Make It Work’s main competitor, Reliable Office Solutions, had officially closed its doors and, as a result, the phone rang insanely all morning. Angela had been talking so steadily that she hadn’t even had time to reapply a fresh layer of lipstick.

  “I thought you were going to hire an assistant,” Cooper whispered while Angela wrote down a prospective client’s information in her bubbly script.

  Covering up the mouthpiece, Angela snarled, “Her Highness doesn’t think I need any help. She’s talked Mr. Farmer into waitin’ another two weeks to see if we’re really gonna stay this busy.”

  Cooper frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. We’re obviously expanding. My department already has more than enough work and so does Ben’s. I believe you’re getting a raw deal.”

  Angela thanked the client sweetly and hung up. Ignoring the steady blinking of the other three phone lines for a moment, she took a long drink of Diet Coke and sighed wearily. Despite the flashing lights, the phone remained silent.

  “How’d you get the lines to stop ringing?” Cooper asked, recalling how maddening it had been to listen to the blaring of the multiple lines during Angela’s brief absence a few weeks ago.

  “When I heard the news about Office Solutions, I ran right out to Costco and bought a new phone. This one’s got a mute button.” She answered line two and pleasantly asked the caller to hold. “See? I’m not as dumb as Mrs. Farmer thinks.”

  Cooper watched as Angela returned to her momentous task. She noted the pile of paperwork threatening to fall out of her friend’s overflowing inbox as well as the stack of manila folders occupying the corner of Angela’s desk customarily occupied by a vase of fresh flowers.

  This is not good, Cooper thought and vowed to speak to Mr. Farmer during the lunch hour. However, her boss was nowhere to be found when she returned to the office at quarter after twelve, though Angela was exactly where Cooper had left her. Replacing the receiver, the office manager put her head in her arms in exhaustion. The phone continued to twinkle like a Christmas tree.

  “I haven’t so much as gone to the ladies’ room all mornin’!” Angela wailed. “I used to love my job, but frankly, I’d rather be gettin’ a root canal than spend another minute in this place. Least I wouldn’t have to talk at the dentist’s!” Angela gestured at the blinking telephone base. “See? It never ends!”

  “I thought you put on a voicemail recording during lunch,” Cooper stated in surprise.

  On the verge of tears, Angela cried, “She thinks we’ll lose our potential new clients if they don’t get to talk to a friendly, professional Make It Work! employee right away. I don’t dare leave my desk in case she calls, pretendin’ to be a client! Cooper, I’m a prisoner!” she cried.

  “Come on, Angela.” Cooper didn’t like the futility in her friend’s voice. “What’s going to happen if you don’t listen to Mrs. Farmer? She’s never been involved in the daily operations of this office.”

  “Well, she sure is interested now! And if I make one false move, she’ll have a reason to convince Mr. Farmer that I’m not worth my weight in salt. I’ll be out of a job. After that, she’ll make sure I’m out my man, too!”

  Cooper grabbed Angela’s hand as she moved toward the telephone receiver. “Don’t let this woman hold such power over you!” Without asking for permission, Cooper opened Angela’s top desk drawer, knowing that her appearance-conscious friend kept a variety of beauty products there, and held up a small mirror. “Is this the face of someone who can be intimidated?” She tried to sound stern. “The face of a woman who agrees to be glued to a chair for five hours straight? Or is willing to surrender without a fight?” Pushing the mirror into Angela’s hand, she selected one of three lipsticks from the drawer. “For goodness sake, Angela. Your lipstick has completely worn off! I haven’t seen your bare lips since I started this job!”

  This realization seemed to shock Angela into action. She snatched the cotton-candy gloss from Cooper, deftly applied it to her lips, and slammed the mirror back into the drawer. “Thank you, darlin’! I needed someone to slap me on the cheek and you cared enough to do just that! Two hours with naked lips! What next? No nail polish? No perfume? No trips to the restroom to powder my nose?” She exhaled slowly and then punched a few buttons on the telephone.

  “I believe you’ve earned a break,” Cooper said.

  Angela smiled broadly. “Yes, indeed. I see a nice, sit-down lunch in my crystal ball, charged to the Make It Work! expense account. After that, I’m gonna march into Mr. Farmer’s office and demand an assistant. If he backpedals, he’s gonna be all alone in his bed tonight! I’ve got my own kind of power!”

  After a lunch hour that stretched well beyond its sixty-minute limit, Angela reapplied her makeup, brushed and sprayed her puffy platinum hair, and doused herself with magnolia-scented perfume. “I’m goin’ in!” she trilled and walked into Mr. Farmer’s office without knocking.

  Pleased to see Angela regaining control of her future, Cooper and her team headed to her next appointment in one of the work vans. As they drove out of the garage, she suddenly stopped mid-sentence during her conversation with Bobby.

  “You okay?” Bobby inquired.

  “I am.” Cooper nodded and then pointed at the figure alighting from a black Mercedes. It was Mrs. Farmer. “But I think there’s about to be a gladiator match in Mr. Farmer’s office.”

  “Between that lady and someone in our office?” Bobby inquired.

  “Yes. Angela,” said Cooper.

  “Then my money’s on Angela,” Bobby stated loyally and once again, Cooper felt glad that she’d hired him.

  She slowed the van in order to observe Mrs. Farmer’s determined march into the Make It Work! building. “We’d better pick up some roses on our way back later on.”

  “What for?” Josh asked in confusion.

  “That’s what the Roman spectators would have thrown into the arena. It was their way of rewarding the winning gladiator,” Cooper replied with a grin. “I believe red will do quite nicely.”

  Cooper had asked Nathan to meet her at her apartment after work so they could open Maria’s Mystery Box together. She felt a twinge of guilt for not having informed him that Maria was probably in a different country already and that they were now responsible for the box’s contents. As she drove home, Cooper felt hopeful that she and Nathan would discover enough proof to put Ivan away until he was stooped with age.

  Upon turning off the narrow, country road onto the gravel driveway leading to her parents’ house, Cooper was surprised to see Nathan’s old pea-green BMW parked in front of the garage. He didn’t have a key to her apartment, so unless he was waiting in the car, he must have felt comfortable enough with her family to seek shelter from the winter afternoon’s bite inside the Lee house. Pulling alongside his car, she noted it was empty, so she entered Maggie’s domain through the back door.

  As usual, the kitchen was filled with delicious aromas. A stew pot gurgled on the stovetop, releasing the scent of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and basil. The comforting smell of baking bread leaked out of the
oven and Cooper inhaled deeply. She smiled at her mother, who was washing leaves of iceberg lettuce in the sink.

  “Did you make your Key lime cookies today?”

  “I sure did! What a nose you’ve got on you, girl! And I was just puttin’ a few in a bag for you and Nathan to have for dessert.” Maggie beamed at Nathan, who was sitting at the kitchen table cradling a mug of tea in his long, graceful hands. “Now, my darlin’ girl. I hope you have somethin’ upstairs to feed this boy. If not, I’ve got plenty of spaghetti to share.”

  “We’re having pasta, too, Mama. It’ll never be as good as yours, but I am using homemade pasta sauce. Homemade by the organic grocery store, that is.”

  Maggie smiled, her cheeks flushing pink as she removed the lid from the pot on the stove and gave the sauce a perfunctory stir. “Do you need some bread? Salad? Grated cheese?”

  Earl walked into the kitchen and, after greeting Cooper, slipped an arm around his wife. “Stop givin’ our food away, Magnolia. Our eldest knows how to fix a fine supper on her own. You know Grammy and I don’t wanna share our meatballs or garlic bread.”

  “Earl!” Maggie chided and slapped her husband with a potholder. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, squeezing her thick waist with his strong, weathered hands. Maggie’s cheeks turned a shade redder.

  Cooper cleared her throat. “Um, we’ll see you later. I’ve got to start cooking and Nathan and I have some detective work to do, too.”

  Following her cue, Nathan rose and accepted a bag of cookies from Maggie, who had detached herself from her husband’s embrace and was holding him at bay with a pair of tongs.

  “Thanks again, Mr. and Mrs. Lee.” Nathan smiled.

  “Please! It’s Maggie and Earl!” Maggie waved her wooden spoon at Nathan. “Go on, you two. I know you’re itchin’ to have some time alone together.”