Path of the Wicked

by Jennifer Stanley

  “This was an exciting week for Joseph,” Savannah said as she waited for her friends to sit at their desks and turn to the appropriate workbook page. “In our reading, Joseph has been promoted to one of the highest available positions in the Pharaoh’s court. Joseph’s pretty much the right-hand man and because his predictions about the seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine were spot-on, Egypt will be able to survive the lean times.”

  “But the rest of the world wasn’t as prepared,” Bryant added.

  “Too true.” Trish pointed at a verse in Genesis forty-two. “Joseph’s brothers were forced to travel to Egypt in hopes of buying grain. When they got there, they didn’t even recognize the brother they had sold into slavery. What a role reversal!” She reviewed a segment of Scripture and then shook her head. “Can you even imagine how conflicted Joseph must have felt when he saw them again?”

  “Especially when his brothers call themselves honest men in verse eleven. What a joke!” Jake spluttered. “ ’Bout as honest as a bunch of pawnbrokers!”

  “Let’s address one of the key questions from our homework,” Savannah suggested after casting a bemused smile in Jake’s direction. “How do you feel about Joseph’s treatment of his brothers when they came to seek help for their folks back home?”

  “He messed with them,” Nathan answered. “He put the silver they had used as payment for the grain back in their saddle bags and then demanded they return to Egypt with their youngest brother, Benjamin. All the brothers knew Jacob would go insane when he heard that an overseer of Egypt wanted to see his youngest son, but they were terrified of being accused of stealing the silver so they had no choice.”

  Quinton frowned. “I was torn. On one hand, I thought it was fair for Joseph to cause his brothers some anguish. On the other hand, I wanted him to just reveal himself and have a big-time reunion banquet right off. Personally, I don’t think he was able to get a grip on his conflicting feelings. I think he felt angry and hurt that they didn’t know him, but relieved and happy that they were alive and well and there was hope for them to become a family again.”

  “Cooper, anything to add before we move on to the next point?” Savannah inquired mildly.

  Starting guiltily, Cooper found that she had been so focused on the contents of Frank Crosby’s Civil War diary that she hadn’t been following their discourse.

  “Page 181,” Nathan whispered.

  Glancing quickly at her workbook, Cooper said, “I loved the end of chapter forty-three. I could just picture the scene where Joseph hears that his father is still alive. That news must have made his heart swell.” She flipped the thin pages of her Bible, enjoying the rustling murmur as she found the section in Genesis she wanted to discuss. “Joseph meets his brother Benjamin in verse twenty-nine, and verse thirty says, ‘Deeply moved at the sight of his brother, Joseph hurried out and looked for a place to weep. He went into his private room and wept there.’ ” Cooper looked at her friends. “My eyes didn’t stay dry, either. You can just sense how overwhelmed with love and longing Joseph was. It drove me crazy that I had to wait ’til Genesis forty-five for Joseph to finally tell his brothers who he was!”

  Trish dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, leaving blotches of mascara on her upper cheeks. “And then they hug each other and cry. These grown men—all of whom have made so many mistakes! It just goes to show us that there’s always time to make amends.” She sniffed. “And when Jacob and Joseph are reunited, it was so beautiful. It made me think of you, Jake, and I prayed that one day you’d see your daddy again and you could forgive him and weep together.”

  Now it was Jake’s turn to become misty-eyed. Unable to speak, he hoarsely whispered “Thank you” to Trish and then got up from his desk under the pretense of refilling his coffee cup.

  “From deception, fear, and doubt, Joseph and his family are brought to a place of reconciliation and renewal through God’s will,” Savannah declared quietly. “I was very moved by our lesson this week as well. Does anyone want to share their answer to the life-reflection question on page 183?”

  “Before we go on,” Cooper cleared her throat. “I need to tell you about something, um, deceitful I’ve done. Nathan was with me, too, but only to make sure I didn’t get hurt. The decision to search Frank’s house for clues and ignore your advice was all mine.” As she absently picked the crumb topping off her muffin, Cooper described how she and Nathan had gained access through the back door, retrieved the diary from inside the rocking chair, and were made aware that the killer had followed them. Lastly, she repeated the words that had been written on the side of her truck.

  “Seek and die!” Trish shrieked. “That’s a pretty serious threat!”

  “Why didn’t you tell us before we showed up at Door-2-Door yesterday?” Bryant demanded. “We could have asked everyone what they were up to Friday night!”

  Jake’s mouth formed a crooked smile. “Yeah, sure. I could have just turned to Penny and said, ‘Hey, lady. Were you out in the rain last night, writing threats on my friend’s truck?’ ” He waved off the notion. “Give Cooper a break. She did something she felt she had to do. Didn’t we all just read some lessons from Scripture about makin’ mistakes?”

  Quinton studied Cooper and Nathan, his eyes lit with interest. “Did you read the diary?”

  “I did, and now we know why Mr. Crosby had such an aversion to the color yellow.” She paused to look over at Nathan. “Lucky for us, we decided to bring the diary to the Tuckahoe Library to read and one of the reference librarians recognized this.” She pulled the rectangle of yellow fabric from her purse.

  “It’s shaped like a flag,” Bryant said.

  “You’re a clever guy.” Nathan was impressed. “It’s a hospital flag from the Civil War. It was flown outside the hospital tents to clearly identify them. And Frank’s relative, Lieutenant Aaron Crosby, spent some time in a Union field hospital.”

  Jake nearly choked on his coffee. “He was a Yankee?”

  “No, but he was shot in the back by one during a retreat,” Nathan explained. “So he took the coat and sword from a dead Union soldier lying nearby and, because they thought he was one of them, he was taken to their hospital. Aaron wrote that his own army was on the run and his only chance of survival was to pretend to be a Yank.”

  “That seems a bit dishonorable,” Quinton said.

  Trish’s violet eyes narrowed. “The man just wanted to live. Maybe he had a family he wanted to see again—a future he dreamed about.”

  “He did,” Cooper opened the diary and read Aaron’s words:

  April 18

  Sunrise. I dreamed of returning to our farm. Annie must be awake by now. The cows will need milking. I hope the boy is helping her with the chores. I wonder if he’s taller than me now. I’m tired. Will write more tomorrow.

  April 19

  The doctors are beginning to wonder about my muteness. I will have to leave here soon. My wound is healing well and it is a luxury to rest in a soft bed again, so it will be difficult to leave. My feet are still clotted with blood and I’ve lost four nails from my right foot. That is no surprise considering the shape of my boots. Most of our men were barefoot in our last skirmish and we haven’t had enough food to fill our bellies for months.

  The South cannot win this war. She is like David fighting Goliath, but with no stone to throw. All I want is to return home, to look upon the faces of my dear ones and to watch my cornstalks grow.

  I have forgotten what it is we have been fighting for . . .

  “The poor man,” Savannah said. “I’m glad to know Lieutenant Aaron must have reunited with his family or there wouldn’t have been a Frank Crosby. I wonder how he ended up with the hospital flag.”

  “He stole it,” Nathan informed her. “The hospital tent was in a state of chaos as a large group of wounded soldiers was brought inside. Aaron used the confusion to his advantage by leaving his bed. He grabbed a pair of discarded boots but had no socks, so he ripped down the hospita
l flag to wrap around his right foot, which was in pretty bad shape.” Gesturing at the flag, he added, “Must have been washed since then.”

  “So Frank was ashamed of his relative for retreating and then deserting?” Bryant wondered aloud.

  Cooper nodded. “That and more. Apparently, the field hospital fell under cannon fire and everyone inside died.”

  “Because the yellow flag had been taken?” Trish’s violet eyes were wide with horror.

  “There’s no way of knowing,” Nathan answered. “But Frank was obviously greatly ashamed of being related to this man and wanted to keep all ties to Aaron Crosby a secret.”

  “That part of our mystery is now solved,” Savannah spoke with quiet authority. “It’s time to turn the diary over to the police, and Cooper, you must tell them about the message written on your truck.”

  “I will. I’m going to call them right after church. But first, I’d like to ask for your forgiveness.” Cooper looked at her friends in appeal. “Something inside me just wouldn’t rest until I understood Frank better. Thoughts of him have been kind of haunting me since I learned of his death. I’m sorry.”

  “Of course we forgive you!” Trish announced. “And who knows? Maybe the killer will stop now that they realize it’s not just the authorities out there looking for them. Maybe what you did will save lives.”

  The sound of music drifted into the open door of the classroom. The praise song Come and Worship was a signal to individual classes to wrap up their discussion and make way to the auditorium for worship service.

  “The police are likely to interview the regular Saturday Door-2-Door volunteers about their movements Friday night,” Quinton said as he began tidying up. “I guess we no longer have a role to play.”

  Bryant looked disappointed. “So there’s no need to snoop into the volunteer’s lives any more?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Savannah argued. “I have no doubt that God, through Trish, placed us in the path of those volunteers. If He hadn’t, then Leo wouldn’t be joining us for worship this morning. We should always take an interest in those around us.”

  “Leo’s coming here?” The alarm in Trish’s voice made Jake grin.

  “You can relax that grip on your purse,” he teased. “That boy’s all bark and no bite. Tell ’em the story, Savannah. Quick, before we have to go.”

  “First of all, Leo was arrested for disorderly conduct.” She couldn’t hold back the smile that appeared on her face. “Turns out, our friend had a bit too much to drink one warm spring evening and found himself with a full bladder. He went in search of the closest tree—”

  “But found the leg of a horse instead!” Jake hollered. “The horse belonged to a mounted cop and let’s just say that our man Leo didn’t have very good aim that night! Both horse and rider were sprayed by somethin’ warm and smelly and wet.”

  “Oh, dear.” Trish giggled behind her hand.

  “Leo works for a moving company and lives in the same apartment building as his mama. We met her and she’s a fine, upstanding woman,” Savannah continued. “I also brought our new friend a copy of T.D. Jakes’s Speaks to Men on CD. Leo must have been influenced by the book because he called me at seven this morning to ask if there was a bus stop close to Hope Street.”

  “Savannah was perfect,” Jake said with enthusiasm. “She just listened to Leo talk and then told him that everyone makes mistakes and that we can learn from them and be changed by them. His mama is going to be in seventh heaven when she finds out that he’s goin’ to church today.”

  “Then we’d better get a move on.” Savannah stood. “We’ll pray for you, Cooper. I hope that you don’t get in too much trouble for poking around in Frank’s house.”

  “Maybe The Colonel and I can be cellmates,” Cooper joked, but her heart was filled with trepidation as she followed her friends down the hallway and into the large chapel, where a sea of joy-filled faces was lifted toward the glow of two enormous projection screens.

  “This next song was written by two our very own members,” the band leader announced. “Lyrics by Quinton Enderly and music by Jake Lombardi. Here’s Teach Us How to Pray.”

  The drums and guitar burst into life and immediately, the congregation began to clap. Quinton was staring at Jake in astonishment, but his friend was too busy responding to Savannah’s questions. Jake’s face was animated with delight and Cooper wondered how long he had been planning this surprise. When the band began to sing, Cooper did her best to add her voice to the rising swell of sound within the room. They sang:

  There’s a little church

  Down a long dirt road

  It’s packed from door

  to door Hands are lifted to the rafters

  And feet stomp upon the floor

  These are your children, Lord

  These are your children, Lord

  Gathered beneath this roof to say

  Our hearts are open to your presence

  Can you teach us how to pray?

  Can you teach us how to pray?

  Toward the end of the fourth verse, Cooper stole another glance at Quinton and Jake. Both men looked incredibly pleased by their joint composition. She also noticed that Leo had arrived sometime after the song’s opening and had taken a seat next to Savannah. He swayed his shoulders and sang as though he had known the song since birth.

  Jennifer Stanley Sometimes my favorite church

  Is a canopy of indigo blue

  I bow my head, get down on my knees

  And have a good long talk with You

  And as the warm breeze blows

  ’Cross my face and I am bathed in Your light

  I become infused with Your holy presence

  Awed by Your tenderness and might

  One of Your children, Lord

  One of Your children, Lord

  You walk beside me every day

  Everywhere I go

  Can You teach me how to pray?

  During the moment of silent prayer, once the congregation had finished offering a hearty round of applause to Quinton and Jake, Cooper prayed that Ashley’s surgery would go smoothly the next day. She then asked for forgiveness over being angry with Lincoln for insisting that he be the only one at Ashley’s side while she was at the hospital. Finally, Cooper prayed that the Lord would be right beside her as she walked into Henrico County Police Department’s Headquarters.

  14

  Everyone who sins breaks the law; in fact, sin is lawlessness

  1 John 3:4 (NIV)

  True to her word, Cooper left Hope Street Church and, after grabbing a bagel with honey-almond cream cheese at Einstein’s, drove north toward the cluster of governmental buildings located on Parham Road. She had to explain herself to several officers before a gruff woman wearing an extremely form-fitting uniform took her name and phone number. The female cop reluctantly took the diary from Cooper’s hands, flipped it over and, not finding anything interesting on the front or back covers, tossed the Ziploc onto her desk.

  “That’s it?” Cooper was incredibly relieved that she had gotten off so lightly.

  The woman snorted. “No, it isn’t it. Investigator Rector will be calling you tomorrow. I’m sure he’s gonna want to hear your colorful story in person.”

  “Do you think I’m going to,” Cooper gulped, “be arrested?”

  Smiling maliciously, the woman shrugged. “Who knows? You broke into a crime scene, tampered with evidence, and maybe compromised a police investigation. It’d sure be within our rights to read you your Miranda warning.” She pointed a stubby finger at Cooper’s chest. “Just don’t go anywhere. You come marching straight here the second he calls, no matter what you’re doing. Investigator Rector doesn’t like people to be late.”

  Beads of perspiration dotted Cooper’s brow. “Yes, ma’am. And I’m really sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make things harder for the police. I mean,” she quickly amended the latter statement, “I wasn’t trying to mess things up. I just wanted to
find out what happened to Mr. Crosby. I was actually hoping to help you all.”

  The female officer hitched her weighted belt higher on her round hips. “Save your speeches for tomorrow. Lucky for you, I’m not the one you need to convince.”

  And with that, Cooper was dismissed.

  Monday morning was unusually fair and mild. The weather was at odds with the displays of Halloween decorations, chrysanthemums, hay-stuffed scarecrows, and pyramids of rotund pumpkins gracing every storefront Cooper passed during the course of her commute.

  Cooper had barely stepped foot through Make It Work!’s front door when Angela rushed over, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her toward the magnificent assortment of cut roses bursting from the dark brown wicker basket. The professional arrangement, which was the size of a picnic basket, took the customary place of the rose bouquet Angela purchased every Sunday afternoon from Costco.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you didn’t get those from a discount warehouse,” Cooper said as the secretary sniffed the lustrous petals of the red, pink, and fuchsia roses.

  “Look at the tag!” Angela thrust a label bearing watering instructions into Cooper’s hand. “This design is called The Kiss.” She pulled a florist’s greeting card from its plastic fork in the center of the group of roses with a flourish. “Now read this!”

  Obediently, Cooper examined the card. “ ‘Because I dream of kissing you.’ ”

  “Who do you think it’s from?” Angela clutched the card against her heart. “Emilio? Did you see the way he danced with me in the garage the other day?”

  “It’s not him!” Cooper immediately responded. Seeing the hurt on her friend’s face, she softened her tone. “I’m sorry, Angela, but this is way too classy for Emilio. Take the wording of the note, for example. It doesn’t sound at all like how he talks.” She lowered her voice. “I think it’s from Mr. Farmer. You made him jealous and he’s trying to tell you that he cares.”