Path of the Wicked

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Path of the Wicked Page 29

by Jennifer Stanley


  And with that, he hung up the phone and disappeared.

  A sign? Cooper remained immobile in her seat for a few moments longer. What kind of sign would it take? I don’t think God’s in the business of performing on demand.

  Suddenly, she had an idea. Approaching the nearest guard, she asked him to deliver a folded piece of paper to Edward Crosby.

  “I’ll see he gets it, ma’am.”

  Later that afternoon, Cooper clocked out and headed for one of the dozens of strip malls on Broad Street. She and Nathan had planned a quiet evening lounging around his house. Nathan had volunteered to cook a pizza and throw together a salad if Cooper promised to arrive bearing a movie for them to watch after dinner.

  “I can tell you already that I’m renting Love, Actually,” she informed him over the phone as she pulled into Blockbuster’s parking lot. “I need to watch something with a happy ending.”

  “I’m a fan of those kind of endings myself,” Nathan answered. “And I know I’m going to be seeing your beautiful face in person soon, but did everything go okay during your visit with The Colonel?”

  Cooper paused. “He told me he’d be looking out for a sign—something to encourage him to live a different life once he’s released.”

  “That’s a bit beyond our power, isn’t it?”

  “But maybe not Quinton’s,” Cooper replied with a smile. “I think his most recent song was meant specifically for Edward Crosby.”

  “Cool. I hope Jake sets that one to music, too. That is, if he has time. Yesterday, he told me that he’s spending the next few days cleaning every inch of his house. He’s finally done it, Cooper.”

  “Asked Savannah on a date?” Cooper inquired hopefully.

  Nathan laughed. “I guess his feelings for her are as obvious as mine are for you.” Then he softly added, “See you soon, sweetheart.”

  In a group jail cell, populated by thirty men in beige scrubs, there was little opportunity for privacy or quiet. One of the few times the men fell silent and minded their own business occurred after the arrival of the mail each day. When the letters were delivered to the eager inmates that Tuesday evening, Edward Crosby was surprised to hear his name called and have a folded sheet of paper handed to him.

  “Who’s this from?” he asked as he glimpsed the bottom of the page in search of a signature.

  The guard shrugged. “No idea.”

  Edward retreated to his cot. He smoothed the slightly creased paper flat and then began to read.

  My heart was like a winter storm

  Frozen hard with ice and cold

  Blanketed in piles of snow

  I was lost among the shadows

  I wondered:

  Is it too late

  To find the light?

  Is it too late

  To make things right?

  I hoarded riches, I gathered pride

  I knocked down others

  To feel big inside

  I gave in to envy

  I surrendered to hate

  While an inner voice whispered

  Is it too late?

  Is it too late

  To know the Lord?

  Is it too late To

  hear His word?

  I wandered into a house of prayer

  A group of strangers were gathered there

  They welcomed me as one of their own

  My spirit stirred in a way I’d never known

  As the light streamed through the panes

  My soul began to rearrange

  Now my future rests in His hands

  On my knees I’ve come understand

  The bounty of my Lord’s sweet love

  Forgiveness delivered from heaven above

  It’s not too late

  It’s not too late

  “It’s not too late,” Edward murmured to himself. He then closed his eyes, leaned against his pillow and whispered to someone he had never addressed before. “I got your sign, God. Show me what to do next and I’ll do it.”

  In his heart, he felt a sudden and powerful feeling of calm—a measure of peace that he had never experienced before.

  “What you grinnin’ about like some fool? Huh, Colonel?” one of the other inmates demanded.

  Edward Crosby stood and slapped the man affectionately on the back. “The future,” he said and snapped his fingers as he had earlier while talking to Cooper. “Just like that, I got cause to smile.”

  Magnolia’s Marvels

  ICED LEMON COOKIES

  Cookies:

  1 cup butter

  2 cups sugar

  3 eggs, beaten

  1 cup buttermilk

  4 cups flour

  2 tsp. baking powder

  2 tsp. baking soda

  1 tsp. pure vanilla

  1 tsp. lemon flavoring

  Lemon Icing:

  1½ cups confectioner’s sugar

  2 tablespoons water

  1 tablespoon lemon juice

  Cream butter and sugar, add beaten eggs and then buttermilk. Stir in flour, baking powder, soda, and flavorings. Refrigerate overnight. Drop by teaspoons on greased sheets. Bake at 400 degrees until cookies are lightly brown (approx. 10 minutes). Frost with lemon icing.

  SOFT GINGER MOLASSES COOKIES

  ¾ cup unsalted butter

  1 cup dark brown sugar, packed

  1 egg

  ¼ cup molasses

  2¼ cups flour

  2 tsp. baking soda

  1 tsp. cinnamon

  1 tsp. ginger

  ½ tsp. salt

  ½ tsp. cloves Granulated sugar for rolling

  Cream butter and sugar. Add egg. Gently mix. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Form dough into small balls and roll in granulated sugar. Bake at 375 degrees for nine minutes. These cookies will be very soft to the touch, but don’t fret. They’ll harden to the perfect consistency when they cool.

  PUMPKIN CRISP SQUARES

  Squares:

  1 can (15 oz.) pumpkin

  1 can evaporated milk

  1 cup granulated sugar

  1 tsp. pumpkin pie spice

  3 eggs

  1 box yellow cake mix

  1 cup chopped pecans

  2 sticks butter, melted

  Frosting:

  1 pkg. (8 oz.) cream cheese

  1 stick of butter

  3½ cups confectioner’s sugar

  Mix pumpkin, milk, sugar, eggs and pumpkin pie spice together. Pour into 9 × 13–inch greased pan. Sprinkle dry cake mix over pumpkin mix. Pat nuts onto surface of mixture. Melt butter and pour over the top. Bake at 350 degrees for 50 to 60 minutes. Cool and frost. To make frosting, combine cream cheese and butter and mix on low speed for one minute. Add sugar and mix until all the sugar is incorporated.

  READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM

  THE WAY OF

  THE GUILTY

  The Next Hope Street Church mystery

  from Jennifer Stanley and

  St. Martin’s / Minotaur Paperbacks!

  Trust in the LORD with all your heart

  and lean not on your own understanding;

  in all your ways acknowledge him,

  and he will make your paths straight.

  Do not be wise in your own eyes;

  fear the LORD and shun evil.

  This will bring health to your body

  and nourishment to your bones.

  Proverbs 3:5-8 (NIV)

  Cooper was excited about starting a new Bible study with her friends from Hope Street Church. Except for Nathan, she hadn’t seen any of them since the Christmas Eve candlelight service. Every member had left town in order to visit family. Savannah Knapp, the legally blind folk artist who led their small group, had stayed away even longer in order to conduct a painting workshop for an artist’s colony, so they’d been unable to commence with a fresh study until she returned.

  Feelings of pleasant expectation coursed through Cooper when she finally received a phone call from Quinton Enderly, the successful
investment banker and talented amateur pastry chef, announcing that it was his turn to choose the next study. He’d picked Directing Our Passion: Corinthians I and II.

  “Whoa!” she’d teased him. “Sounds steamy.”

  “I’ve been praying for a wife for over ten years now,” Quinton had replied solemnly. “But suddenly I realized that I’ve got to have a clear relationship with God before I can even attempt to form one with a woman. This study just spoke to me.”

  “Trust me, Quinton. We could all use help in the relationship department. Besides, you’re a real catch. Some girl is going to celebrate the day she found her way to your doorstep,” Cooper said to her portly and kind-hearted friend before speeding off to LifeWay to buy the study guide.

  She loved opening an unblemished, stiff workbook, uncapping her favorite purple pen, and rustling the pages of her Bible as she prepared to complete the first homework lesson.

  “Sounds like the wings of dove, doesn’t it?” Her mother had once said while flipping through her own Bible. “How the angels must rejoice over the music made by the turnin’ of those pages.”

  Cooper had felt a bit lost during the break the Bible study group had taken. She’d gone to church, but her focus had wandered during each service, her eyes roaming the congregation in search of the faces of her friends. Now, on the third Sunday in January, it was time to reunite. Humming to herself, she was the first one to arrive in the Hope Street Christian Academy’s Biology classroom. She set out a basket of her mother’s meringue pecan bars, brewed a pot of coffee in the teacher’s lounge, and placed a stack of snowman napkins alongside a plate of plump red seedless grapes.

  “Now this is an interesting room,” meteorologist Bryant Shelton declared as he entered, flicking a solar system model suspended from the ceiling into orbit. “I’m glad we got booted from the English classroom. I was getting kind of tired of being stared at by those Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf posters.” He sidled up to the life-sized skeleton and slung an arm around its bony shoulders. “Sorry to keep you waiting for our dinner date, sweet cheeks. You’ve practically wasted away!” He laughed, displaying his famous television smile. Twin dimples appeared in his tanned cheeks as he released the skeleton and walked over to embrace Cooper. “I’ve missed our meetings.”

  Cooper smiled at him, knowing that dozens of women longed to be the recipient of Bryant’s attention and would have gladly locked her in the classroom’s supply closet if it meant the gorgeous weatherman would hug them instead. Cooper cared deeply for Bryant, but only as a friend. The two of them had quickly bonded a year ago over their experiences with failed relationships. Bryant was a divorcé three times over and Cooper’s only serious boyfriend had left her for another woman. Together, they’d vowed to forgive those who’d hurt them and focus on the future instead.

  “I smell cookies!” Jake Lombardi bellowed as he stepped into the classroom. “Yours or your mama’s?” He stripped off a pair of worn leather gloves, dumped his aged barn jacket onto one of the student desks, and began to remove tissue-wrapped coffee mugs from a grocery bag.

  “Magnolia’s Marvels,” Cooper admitted. “She made an extra two dozen for us this morning.”

  “Lucky us.” Bryant pointed at the coffee mugs. “What are those, Jake?”

  “I saw ’em online,” Jake answered. “I wanted to get somethin’ for our first meetin’ of the year. I may be a plumber, but I got good taste. Check these out.” He handed Cooper a mug. It showed a rising sun and the words COFFEE HOUR: THE THIRD SACRAMENT.

  “We’re the Sunrise Bible Study group and we sure like our coffee,” Jake explained. “Figured these were made for us.”

  “Did you come bearing gifts, Jake?” a mellifluous voice asked from the doorway. Savannah held a white cane in one hand and several books in the other. Quinton was guiding her by the elbow with Trish Tyler, an ambitious realtor and mother of two, following closely behind. Nathan took up the rear.

  “These are cute, Jake.” Trish said as she picked up one of the mugs. “Even if they’re a tad cynical.”

  “Get your caffeine on and be grateful, lady.” Jake grinned at her. “After all, I could’ve picked the ones that said God Only Loves You ’Cause He Has To!”

  Nathan chuckled. “Oh man, that is so mean!”

  The members exchanged small talk about their various trips and then settled down to begin Day One of their study.

  “The first book of Corinthians addresses the people of Corinth. Imagine that!” Savannah took a bite of one of the meringue pecan cookies and sighed in delight. “This Greek city was a bustling and wealthy port,” she stated. “All kinds of exotic goods came in and out of this place and its people were as mixed as its goods. There was plenty of entertainment to be found there, including athletic competitions like the Olympics. And according to my audio guide, there was a tavern on every street corner.”

  “Sounds like Americans and our Starbucks,” Bryant remarked.

  “In this city filled with immorality, the Apostle Paul appeared more than once to preach to the people,” Savannah continued with a smile. “Does this setting remind you of another Biblical place?”

  “Babylon,” Nathan answered quickly. “Both cities have the lure of glamour, wealth, and greed.”

  Savannah nodded. “We live in a modern Babylon, so we face similar temptations every day. I don’t know about you all, but I give in to these kind of trappings on a regular basis.” She held up her cane. “I can’t even see and I’ve got a house loaded with stuff!” She laughed. “I admit to enjoying too many material things. You probably didn’t know that I listen to QVC even though I can’t see the products clearly—only fuzzy colors! But I like how the hosts describe everything. It’s a seductive show, I tell you!”

  “My Corinth/Babylon problem is the same one as always,” Quinton spoke next. “I want more food than I need. Portion control. Overindulgence. I can’t seem to get a grip on it.”

  Jake patted the large man on the back. “I hear ya, man. Over the holidays I slipped and had a smoke. And then a second one. Now those cigarettes are callin’ to me night and day.”

  “Boy, I know that feeling.” Cooper sympathized with Jake. “Even though I quit months ago, any time I get stressed the thought of just taking a few drags seems like a great idea. Hang in there.” Glancing at her own workbook page, Cooper recalled that she’d written that her weekly pedicures were an unnecessary luxury, but that she had no intention of giving them up.

  Savannah raised the next discussion point. “In verse nineteen of chapter one, Paul quotes from Isaiah. How do you respond to the phrases ‘destroy the wisdom of the wise’ and ‘the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate’?” Savannah looked around the circle of faces, as though she could see everyone’s features through her nearly sightless, navy-blue eyes. Cooper noticed that she’d loosed her braid, allowing her dark brown hair to spill over her shoulders. The light from the windows caught a few strands of silver framing Savannah’s unlined face. Once again, Cooper was struck by Savannah’s loveliness. Though only forty, their group leader possessed a level of grace, poise, and self-awareness that made her seem wiser than her years.

  “I don’t think Paul is trying to compliment smart people,” Trish said, and then paused to rub her glossy ruby-tinted lips with her pinkie. “Sometimes, the biggest brainiacs are the biggest atheists too. Like they’ve figured out all of life’s riddles and therefore have no reason to believe in God.”

  Bryant rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Like Benjamin Franklin? I think he was the one who said, ‘Lighthouses are more helpful than churches.’ ” He waved his hand around the room. “Here we are, in a place filled with the evidence of man’s scientific discoveries and they really are great, but even this level of wisdom doesn’t give us what we need.”

  Quinton nodded. “Take Adam. He had everything he needed, but he wasn’t satisfied. Look where that got us.”

  “Good point!” Jake exclaimed with a smirk. “That ole serpent knew
what he was doin’ when he told Adam he could know as much as God if he’d only take a little nibble of fruit.” He nudged Trish playfully with his elbow. “Thanks a lot, Eve.”

  Trish scowled, her pencil-drawn eye brows furrowing. “No one twisted Adam’s arm. He made his own choice. Besides, women have paid for Eve’s bad decision.” Her voice rose. “You men don’t have any idea what labor pains are like! That damned fruit cost us plenty.” Her eyes dropped to her book and fixed upon the page as the rest of the group exchanged startled glances.

  Savannah recovered first and steered the conversation back to the subject at hand. Cooper shared her thoughts that human wisdom was different from divine wisdom, for one had limits and the other had none, but felt that she needed to say something else to lighten the mood.

  “I’ve definitely acted dumb when I thought I was being clever,” she told her friends while trying to block out images of a party she’d attended recently. “When I started fixing office machines, I thought I was some kind of female Da Vinci. One of my first jobs was to repair a printer in the nurse’s office of a nearby grade school. I tried everything, but I couldn’t get it to work. Then this seven-year-old boy comes in and tells me that it’s not plugged in. Sure, there was a nest of cords and wires under the nurse’s desk, but I never even checked the most basic step because I wanted to solve a complicated problem.” She shrugged. “Guess I needed a dose of humility.”

  “Arrogant is not a word that I’d associate with you.” Nathan winked at her. “And you’re awesome at problem-solving. Do I have to point out that you’ve helped solve two murder cases?”

  “Well, arrogant is a word people might use to describe me,” Bryant commented with a self-effacing grin. “Once, when I was working at a station at the beach, I showed up too late to review the latest weather data before I went on the air at six A.M. Because of that, I failed to warn commuters that they’d be dealing with a serious fog. There were dozens of accidents that day and lots of people called the station to complain about my crappy forecast. My boss reamed me out with a hurricane-force lecture.”

 

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