Part 21 (1/2)
”Are you okay, honey?”
Cooper managed to drag her body to a standing position. ”Yes, ma'am. Let me just wash up and I'll be right out.”
She scrubbed her hands vigorously with a bar of Dove soap and then leaned over and rinsed her mouth directly from the tap, gurgling to remove the foul taste from the surface of her tongue.
Upon her return to the sun porch, Violet handed her a cup of hot tea. ”This'll settle you down.”
After taking a tentative sip, Cooper blew a mist of steam from the surface of the milky tea and drank some more, marveling at the restorative powers of the tea. ”Thank you. I feel much better already.” Allowing her body to relax a fraction, she looked at the stricken faces patiently awaiting an explanation. ”When I saw that picture,” she quickly pointed at the photograph so as not to hold the sisters in suspense another second, ”I knew which of the volunteers was the murderer. One of them-a man-introduced us to a woman he claimed was his grandmother. When I looked at Vera's face and saw her purple gla.s.ses, I knew that this man had introduced us to your sister.”
”Are you sure?” Violet seemed dubious.
”It wasn't just the purple rhinestone gla.s.ses, though those are pretty unique,” Cooper told her with confidence. ”It's Vera's eyes. They look out on the world like this man's Grandma Helen's did. The gaze, it's, it was . . .” Cooper didn't know how to describe the feeling of vacancy implied by Vera's stare without offending her sisters.
”Like she wasn't all there?” Velma suggested.
Cooper nodded. ”Kind of absent, yet content. I met her at this potluck dinner my Bible study group hosted for the volunteers. Erik was there, too, but since he hadn't met her before or seen a current photograph of her, he also thought she was this . . . man's grandmother.” She gave the sisters a weak smile. ”Vera seemed perfectly happy. I want you to know that she wasn't abused in any way. In fact, she enjoyed the food and tapped on the table with her fork and knife when the band played.”
Violet grinned, reminiscing. ”Vera always loved music. Any loud sounds, actually. Even after she started forget-tin' things, she'd still love to hear a strong rain or a bowling ball strikin' pins.”
”Or bingo tiles?” Cooper asked, trying to keep the revulsion she felt about Warren's duplicity out of her voice.
”One of her favorite noises,” Velma said with grin. Then her humor vanished. ”So what you're sayin' is that this person, this man who . . . killed my sister, actually led her around like she was some kind of pet before he took her life?”
Cradling her tea cup in search of warmth, Cooper was reluctant to answer. ”I don't know what his motives were, ma'am. And I'm sorry if I've caused you more grief by revealing all this. To tell you the truth, and I know this sounds crazy, but he acted like he really cared for your sister. It was like he really saw her as his grandmother. I can't explain what caused him to turn from the conscientious guy who cut up Vera's food for her into the monster who ended more than one life.”
”Of course you can't, dear.” Violet touched Cooper's shoulder. ”None of us can wrap our minds around how such a twisted soul operates and it's likely we never will. The Lord will judge this man and he will be found wanting, I'm sure of that!” She returned her hands to her lap and tried to steady their trembling. ”Are the police goin' to get him now?”
”Yes,” Cooper whispered soberly. ”He lives in his family's farmhouse out in Goochland. They're on their way now.”
The three women fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Cooper finished her tea and a heavy drowsiness seemed to fall over her. She longed to go home and collapse in the cozy shelter of her apartment. Perhaps she'd call Nathan and ask him to drive out to see her. She'd like nothing more than to lie in his arms for a few hours, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat.
”I'm going to wash this tea cup,” she said and stood. ”Can I bring you anything?”
Velma shook her head. ”We're gonna sit here for a spell. I imagine we won't have much quiet later on, so we should rest while we can.” She reached out with both of her arms and Cooper put down the tea cup and accepted the old woman's tender embrace. ”They'll release Erik 'cause of you. Bless you, child.”
Cooper then turned and hugged Violet. All three women had tears running from their eyes. Shock, grief, anger, and the desperate desire to cling to hope was too much to hold inside.
”I wish I had known sooner,” Cooper whispered into Violet's hair. ”Your sister could have been spared. Forgive me.” She sniffed and then, drawing away from Violet, pressed a napkin against her red, blotchy face.
”There is nothing to forgive.” Violet managed a tremulous smile. ”You brought daisies, and kindness, and justice into our home today. What more can we give you in return but our love and friends.h.i.+p and a lifetime's worth of prayers?”
Velma wagged a finger at Cooper. ”You stay in touch now, young lady. We've got a weddin' to invite you to once we're done grievin' for our Vera. There will be laughter yet in these rooms if I've got any say in the matter.”
”Yes, ma'am.” Cooper dried her eyes, cleaned up the tea things, and showed herself out.
Standing on the cement walkway, she was temporarily blinded by the brilliance of the afternoon sun.
”It's over.” She raised her arms upward toward the fiery yellow and crimson-tinged treetops. A wind rushed through the leaves like a murmur of fast water over rocks and Cooper lifted her chin until her face was awash in cleansing light.
”It's over,” she repeated and then turned her thoughts toward home.
17.
The cords of the grave coiled around me;
the snares of death confronted me.
2 Samuel 22:6 (NIV) Cooper climbed the steps to her apartment as though her legs were made of cement. She looked back over her shoulder and noticed the warm and welcoming light spilling from the kitchen window of her parents' house below. It was a comfort to imagine her mother moving around inside, humming as she added ingredients to bubbling saucepans on the stovetop and then knocking the oven door closed with one of her round hips. Every now and again, she'd wipe a smear of dough or brown gravy onto the front of her favorite ap.r.o.n, which was decorated with bright cherries on a field of navy.
Columbus squawked from within his aviary, and Cooper yelled down to him that she'd walk him later. Her promise seemed to excite the raptor further and it was with a twinge of guilt that she ignored his complaints and ducked inside her apartment to retreat into the pleasant quiet of her bedroom instead. However, Columbus's screeches did not subside as they usually did, so Cooper relocated to her sofa and switched on the television, hoping some background noise would block out the hawk's clamor.
HGTV provided the perfect pictorial balm. As the cameras panned over banks of perennial beds blooming alongside a quaint stone cottage nestled somewhere in the English countryside, Cooper felt her body sink deeper into the couch cus.h.i.+ons. Her lids grew heavy and by the time the show's narrator turned his attention to the charming home's herb garden, Cooper was on the cusp of sleep.
When The Beatles burst into song from the speaker of her cell phone, which was buried at the bottom of her purse, she decided to ignore it. Repositioning herself on the sofa, she slipped her arm under a throw pillow, pulled a crocheted afghan over her legs, and prepared to take a restorative nap.
Her cell phone sang again.
”d.a.m.n it,” Cooper muttered crossly. She opened her eyes, but didn't stir her body in any other way.
This time, the caller left a message and Cooper's phone, which had an annoying habit of repeatedly chirping whenever it received a new voicemail, issued its first alert signal. Cooper counted to ten, slowly, and could just hear the sound of the message beep again.
”So much for a rest.” She swung her legs onto the floor and sat upright for a moment, reluctant to stand up. When the alert sounded for the third time, she threw off her blanket in irritation and grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter.
Bringing the phone to life with the touch of a b.u.t.ton, Cooper noticed that the calls had both come from Rector. Regretting that she hadn't answered him the first time, she was just about to prompt her phone to dial his number when a voice commanded, ”I'd like you to put that down. Right now.”
Cooper swung around. Warren was leaning against the doorframe that led into her bathroom. He held a snack-sized plastic bag filled with what looked like crushed brown leaves in his hand and his eyes glinted with a strange and ominous light.
Without breaking eye contact, Cooper's thumb edged toward the send b.u.t.ton. Warren shook the bag and gave her a crooked grin. ”Don't do it or your family will suffer. You see, we had a little tea party while you were out.”
The phone clattered onto the floor as the implications of Warren's words. .h.i.t home. The phone's battery, dislodged by the impact, skated into the shadows beneath the kitchen table. Cooper's voice was taut with anger and fear. ”What have you done to them?”
Warren shrugged. ”I just introduced myself as one of your volunteer friends and invited them to share in my unique blend of Lipton's Cranberry Pomegranate and Jimson weed.” He held up three syringes. ”But don't worry, a shot of this lorazepam and they should make it to the hospital without having a seizure. Jimson weed can make some people really agitated. Not good for the heart, you know.”
”Jimson weed?” Cooper was confused, and that made her feel even more frightened. ”Is that some kind of poison?”
Again, the crooked smile. ”It can be. But I'm disappointed in you, Cooper. You're a country girl. And a gardener. I thought I could count on you to recognize the beauty and versatility of my favorite herb.”
”Sorry, but I'm not familiar with it.”
Gesturing at her kitchen chair, Warren moved forward a step. ”Well, take a seat and I'll tell you all about it. It's understandable that you don't recognize my plant because while you live in the sticks, you don't live near any farms. When I was a kid, Jimson weed grew all over the edges of our cow pastures. It produces pretty purple or white bell-shaped flowers, but my grandparents warned me never to touch them, because the seeds hold power.”
”The power to make people sleep?” Cooper guessed. ”All they need to do is ingest them somehow.”