The Root of All Evil (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 4) (10 page)

“I need to talk to Cooper.”

“Ah! Cookie making it is!”

As Edward made a beeline for Cooper, Quinton returned to his work.

“Want an apron?” Cooper asked.

“No. I’m not good with this kind of thing.”

“We’re making chocolate chip cookies.” Cooper pushed a mixing bowl in his direction. “They’re about as foolproof as baking gets.”

But Edward pushed the bowl right back toward her. “I’m not here to make cookies. We need to talk. You
know
she’s in this, right?”

Cooper thought fast, trying to figure out who “she” was and what “this” meant. “What are you talking about? I know who did what?”

“You know that Ms. Donna is involved in what happened at the school.”

Cooper stopped and stared at him. He wasn’t joking. She looked past him to the other Bible study members, who had also stopped their work to stare. Jake and Bryant burst into laughter.

“Ms. Donna?” Jake asked through his guffaws. “Little, harmless Ms. Donna?”

“She’s pretty terrifying,” Bryant jested. He turned to Savannah. “Did she scare you as much as she scared me?”

Edward’s face turned red. Cooper could tell that Jake and Bryant didn’t realize that Edward was serious, but Edward just thought he was being mocked. He turned his back to the others and lowered his voice. “You know I’m right.”

“How on earth would I know that?” Cooper asked, her tone and volume matching his. She could tell by his expression he was doing his very best to keep a level head; men like Edward didn’t take well to being laughed at. “Is it the security footage? Is she in it? Did the police see her?”

“You found out about that, huh?”

“I was there this morning when Pastor Matthews told the police, and I’m hoping it’ll be very useful to them. However, since I haven’t seen the footage, how do you expect me to
know
that you’re right about Ms. Donna?”

“Because we have a . . . a . . .” Edward searched for the proper words. He snapped his fingers. “We have a
rapport
. We’ve worked together, you and me. You know I know what I’m talking about.”

Cooper planted her flour-covered hands on her hips. “And you’re convinced that sweet little Ms. Donna broke into the church and murdered the art teacher?”

“I’m not saying she killed anybody,” Edward clarified. “I’m convinced she’s involved, though. Somehow.”

“Why? Why are you so quick to drag her into this?”

Past Edward, Cooper could see that everyone was watching. The laughter had dissipated as the other cooks listened intently to their conversation. Now they all realized that Edward wasn’t joking.

Edward turned his head so he could look at the rest of the Bible study members. He met each gaze in turn before he began. “When Ms. Donna came to your group on Sunday, she was sizing you up.”

Before Cooper could dismiss the claim outright, Nathan jumped in. Rather than reprimand Edward for jumping to conclusions, he wore a thoughtful expression, as if he were willing to consider it. “What do you mean, sizing us up?”

With that small encouragement, Edward straightened his shoulders, stood a little taller and explained. “She looked over each and every one of you—not the way a person does when they’re in a new location and they want to know their way around. This was different. She was studying your clothes, your purses, your jewelry. It was subtle, but she did it.”

Savannah set aside the sandwich bag she’d been holding. “Let’s pretend you’re right. Why would she do that? To what end?”

“My guess? Habit,” he said simply. “She’s a con artist. She was trying to figure out who you are and what you value. Once she has a good read, she can wheedle her way in and take what she wants.”

“That’s a bold charge,” Quinton commented. “Especially without evidence. Anything other than a hunch to back this up?”

The corners of Edward’s mouth turned up in a slight smile. “Takes one to know one, I guess. Once you’ve spent time in prison, surrounded by con men and criminals, you develop a kind of sixth sense about it. You can spot them, even when they don’t want to be spotted. Ms. Donna’s a con. I’d bet on it.”

His response was met with silence. There was something undeniably convincing in his sincerity, his confidence, and while Cooper wasn’t ready to accuse Ms. Donna, she realized she also wasn’t ready to dismiss Edward.

Edward turned to Cooper and continued. “What if I brought you the footage from the security camera?”

“Does it show Ms. Donna?”

“Not exactly. But I think you’ll agree it’s pretty damning . . . er . . .
incriminating.”

Cooper considered the idea. “Bring the footage. I’ll have to judge for myself whether or not I think it’s incriminating, but if it is, well . . .” She hesitated. “We’ll figure out where to go from there. I’m not sure if you know this, but the police have Pastor Matthews’s computer, so if Ms. Donna’s in the video, they’ll see it.”

“I doubt they’ll catch what I did.”

“And on that same note—about the police having the computer—how exactly do you plan on getting a hold of the footage?”

“It’s easy,” Edward assured her. “The footage went to the pastor’s hard drive, but the computer automatically backs everything up to the church server. I found that out when I installed the new program. Anyway, I’ll show you the video, and you’ll know I’m right.”

Nathan drew in a deep breath. “If you bring incriminating evidence of Ms. Donna at the church, I think we’d all know you’re right. I’d hate to accuse her without something concrete, but if she’s guilty . . .”

He let his idea trail off into the silence. Cooper looked from friend to friend. Their troubled faces reflected the unease she felt. Indictments such as this were serious business, and no one wanted to believe Ms. Donna could have been involved. Cooper said a silent prayer and turned back to her cookies.

“I’ve said my piece,” Edward announced. “Have fun making meals.” With that, he stalked out of the kitchen and out of the house, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Do you really think it could be true?” Bryant asked them as soon as Edward was gone. “Do you think a lady like Ms. Donna could really be involved in something like murder?”

“Edward seems to think so,” Savannah replied.

“Sure,” Jake said. “But—don’t get me wrong—I’d hate to stake an accusation on his experience in prison. Which isn’t to say I don’t appreciate his struggles.”

Cooper walked over to Nathan, who’d just started to chop again.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Nathan shrugged. “I’m not about to blame her
or
dismiss him at this point. Not without something concrete. You?”

“The same,” Cooper replied. She hesitated. “I hope he’s wrong.”

Nathan stopped what he was doing. He hadn’t missed that hesitation. “Do you really?”

“Well . . . sure,” Cooper stammered, trying to arrange her thoughts. “I mean, I don’t want Ms. Donna to be guilty, but . . .”

“But what?”

“A part of me hopes he’s right . . . not because I want to send Ms. Donna to jail or anything. I think Edward’s still trying to find his self-worth. I want him to have this win under his belt, I guess.”

Cooper wandered back to her cookie station and mixed the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. The oven beeped, announcing it had reached the proper temperature for baking. But Cooper had a hard time concentrating on the task at hand after Edward’s abrupt visit. If he was wrong, he’d feel humiliated and defeated. If he was right, it meant that Ms. Donna was really a wolf in kind church lady clothing. Either way, it wouldn’t be good.

• • •

The rest of the week passed slowly. Cooper’s employees, Bobby and Josh, went out to make repairs, while she stayed behind with the paperwork. Angela exchanged death glares with Mr. Farmer’s sister, who didn’t care for her brother’s choice in women. Emilio prattled on about his love life. Ben’s employee, Brandi, educated everyone in the office about indie music. For the most part, Cooper was on autopilot, somehow finishing her work while thinking about Pastor Matthews, Edward, Ms. Donna and Sylvia. She greeted her coworkers, but her mind was elsewhere. She ate lunch with them, but she kept seeing the police swarming around Hope Street Christian Academy. She carried on conversations, all the while remembering Edward’s accusation of Ms. Donna.

On Friday, she even spoke on the phone to a long-term client from Capitol City and made sure the machine they requested was available for lease. As she hung up the phone, someone knocked on her office door. She looked up to see Mr. Farmer standing in the opening, his face slick with sweat and his breathing labored.

“Mr. Farmer, are you all right?” she asked, waving him to a chair. “Are you sick? Do you need me to call someone?”

Mr. Farmer shook his head, sighed and mopped his bald brow with a handkerchief. “If only water would fix the problem. If only I were sick. This is potentially terrible!”

“What? What’s potentially terrible?”

“Cooper, one of the work laptops has gone missing.”

Cooper smiled and shrugged. “Is that all? Don’t worry about it, Mr. Farmer. One of the guys probably left it in his bag after a job and forgot to put it back. It’s a mistake, I’m sure. Not a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but several of the higher-end toner cartridges are gone, too.”

“Toner? Why would the toner be missing?”

Mr. Farmer looked over his shoulder at the door and then leaned in over Cooper’s desk. “They’re worth a couple hundred dollars each. Now, that may not be a lot of money if you take just one, but what if this isn’t the first time . . .”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Cooper interjected. “You don’t really think somebody here is a thief, do you?”

Mr. Farmer wiped his face again. “I don’t want to, Cooper. But the computer, the toner, some tools . . . I can’t ignore the problem, as much as I wish I could!”

“Do you . . . have any suspicions?”

“I can’t imagine anyone here stealing, but that’s why I’m coming to you.”

Cooper crossed her arms. She didn’t like the sound of this . . . not at all.

Mr. Farmer continued. “I’ve already talked to Ben about this, and he’s on board. I need your help.”

“Help doing what?”

“Talking to your people, of course,” Mr. Farmer replied. “Get a feel for them. See if you think they’re capable of such a thing.”

“I take it you don’t think Ben or I did the stealing. Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for our help.”

“I’ve known the two of you long enough. You’re in the clear.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.”

“The only thing I can figure is that maybe one of the newer employees hit a rough patch, and they’re trying to get some extra money. They must be desperate. That’s what I figure. They need help.”

Cooper smiled kindly at Mr. Farmer. “You know, I think you may be the only employer in the world who suspects there’s a thief in his midst, but still believes in the goodness of humanity.”

A brief smile pulled back Mr. Farmer’s chubby cheeks, but it vanished quickly. “Will you talk to Bobby and Josh?”

Cooper hesitated. “Mr. Farmer . . . I’m not sure I can do a good job with that right now.”

Mr. Farmer’s expression changed from worried to ashamed. “Cooper, I’m sorry. You’ve had a terrible week, I know. It’s not right of me to put this burden on you right now. I don’t want to add to your stress . . . but . . .”

“But we don’t really have a choice, do we?” Cooper asked. “We need to get to the bottom of this. I understand.”

“I knew you would. If I were better acquainted with the new employees, I could talk to them. But I’m not; I wouldn’t know what to look for. If they have a nervous tic or something, I won’t have any idea to look for it.”

Cooper nodded, exhaling slowly. “I’ll do what I can.”

“And you’ll just make it seem like you’re chatting, won’t you? I don’t want anyone to get worried—if they didn’t do anything—or scared—if they did. We’ll get all this ironed out.”

“Yes, we will. Don’t worry about that.”

Mr. Farmer returned to his office. As Cooper heard his door close, Angela walked in and sat opposite Cooper, as casually as if they were meeting at a café for brunch. She began to file her nails with an emery board. “So. I guess you’ve heard.”

“I’ve heard it, but I’m not sure I believe it. A thief at Make It Work!? That’s hard to swallow.”

Angela blew the dust from her nails and then went back to filing. “I bet you it’s Emilio.”

Cooper laughed. “Why do you think it’s Emilio? I remember a time when you were smitten with him.”

Angela looked at her in shock. “I was
never
smitten. But I do believe a man isn’t that handsome without having a dark secret somewhere. There had to be a flaw beneath that hair, those eyes, those muscles.” Angela paused for a moment, smiling at the mental image. “Anyhow, I bet this is his dark secret. I bet he’s a thief.”

“If Emilio’s the thief, why didn’t he steal anything until recently?”

“He probably did, but we just didn’t see it,” Angela replied confidently. “If you don’t think it’s him, then who do you think did it?”

Cooper shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. I’m still hoping this is all a big mistake. I know my head hasn’t been in the game this week, and I’m sure I’ve messed up some paperwork somewhere. I bet the same happened with someone else. A bookkeeping error or a moment’s forgetfulness. I’m not ready to panic just yet.”

“But you’ll still talk to Bobby and Josh?”

“Of course, if for no other reason than to reassure Mr. Farmer . . . I’m just not sure how to bring it up in conversation. Mr. Farmer doesn’t want the thief to know he’s been had.”

“You’ll think of something,” Angela assured her. “You always do.”

• • •

The end of the day couldn’t come quickly enough, and by Friday night Cooper was completely exhausted. When she got home from work, she dragged herself up to her little apartment over the garage, fell back onto her bed in her work clothes, closed her eyes and thanked the good Lord for the weekend.

She’d talked to someone from the Bible study group every single night to share updates and prayer requests, and at the office today she’d spent every spare moment trying to figure out a way to discuss the thefts with Bobby and Josh . . . without them knowing what she was doing. Now, she enjoyed a much-needed peaceful moment. No work. No murder. No stress.