Part 18 (1/2)

Cooper shut the door behind her and, after removing a pile of newspapers from the only other chair in the room, sat down and faced her boss. ”Sir. Have you been sending Angela roses?”

Mr. Farmer blushed from the bottom of his cheeks to the bald spot in the center of his head. ”Well, I-”

”Because I know you care about her and that you might believe she has feelings for Emilio. In a sense, she would like him to have feelings for her, just for vanity's sake, but the truth is that she wants a man to share her life with. The man she's waiting for is not Emilio.” She stared intently at Mr. Farmer. ”It's you.”

Fl.u.s.tered, her boss's fingers twitched erratically and his pinkie hit the total b.u.t.ton on the adding machine. Numbers appeared on the thin strip of white paper as the machine buzzed in a wild frenzy of ink. Mr. Farmer reached out to turn it off, but he couldn't control the trembling of his hands, so Cooper walked around the desk and flicked the switch for him.

”You've got to make a bold statement, sir. Not roses. Something that declares how you feel in a big way. Prove to her once and for all that you're willing to take the risk and ask her to be with you.” Cooper paused, wondering if she was making a grave mistake by issuing orders to her boss. ”Forgive me for b.u.t.ting in here, sir, but she's been miserable lately and I think you have, too.”

After a pregnant pause, Mr. Farmer issued the briefest of nods. Finally, without meeting Cooper's eyes, he murmured, ”What should I do?”

For the moment, Cooper forgot her own troubles. Perhaps she could balance out her reckless act of breaking into Frank's house by finally bringing Angela and Mr. Farmer together. With a grin, she resumed her seat across from her boss. ”Don't worry, sir. I have an idea.”

Cooper's first appointment after lunch was at an unexpected location. Lali Gupta had phoned earlier in the day and requested an annual service contract with Make It Work!

”The director asked for you personally.” Angela handed Cooper a work order. ”They've got a busted copier and fax machine. Get her to sign our annual contract form before you leave, too. Mr. Farmer is going to give them a special rate 'cause they're a nonprofit. He's got such a big heart, that man.” Opening the makeup compact that was never far from reach, Angela reapplied a layer of scarlet lipstick. ”He asked me to stay late tonight. We've never worked a minute past five before. I can't imagine what he's up to.”

”Me, either,” Cooper replied innocently. ”But he's got some nasty-looking spreadsheets in his office, so it can't be anything fun.”

Frowning in disappointment, Angela returned to her desk while Cooper slid the Door-2-Door paperwork onto her clipboard and headed out to a work van. Emilio intercepted her before she could open the driver's door.

”Hey, gorgeous.” Emilio leaned against the van, his knuckles pus.h.i.+ng his biceps outward. ”How was the weekend? Did you sit around, eat bonbons, and maybe wonder just for a minute what I was doin'? 'Cause I was thinkin' about you. Let's go out tonight. I became good buddies with one of the chefs at Ruth Chris. We could eat like kings. What do ya say?”

Emilio was the last person Cooper wanted to see at the moment. Hoping to run him off, she opened one of the van's rear doors, planted her toolbox firmly on the floor, and slammed the door shut. Giving him a wide berth, she walked back to the front of the van. ”I had a lovely weekend, thank you. I ate a bunch of fried food, broke into an old man's house with my boyfriend, received a threatening note from a serial killer, went to church, and then turned myself into the police because I broke the law and I d.a.m.ned well knew it. In fact, I'm waiting for a phone call from one of the detectives who's probably going to tell me to get my a.s.s down to the station before his coffee gets cold, so if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get to this next job as quick as I can.”

Instead of being repelled by Cooper's caustic demeanor, Emilio inched closer to her. ”You don't need to make up stories to impress me. I already think you're awesome.”

”Well, the feeling's not mutual!” Cooper snapped and then jumped into the van and locked the door.

As she sped off, Emilio stared after her. ”She likes this cat-and-mouse game, but I'm not a patient guy.” His mind conjured a fantasy scene in which Cooper served him a gigantic rib-eye while modeling skimpy lingerie. ”Time to get rid of this so-called boyfriend. She needs a real man.”

Emilio turned back to the office, hoping to flirt with Angela until she gave him some useful information about Cooper's boyfriend. Whistling Wild Thing, Emilio strutted across the parking lot, his wavy, dark hair blowing in the wind and his eyes narrowed in determination. At that moment, he looked more like a wolf than a man.

When Cooper approached Lali Gupta's desk, she was shocked by the woman's appearance. Lali was a wreck. Her black hair was stringy and dull, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her blouse was wrinkled and had been b.u.t.toned incorrectly. Even her nails had been chewed into jagged fragments. Cooper wished she could find a way to comfort the unhappy woman, but she knew that only the police could offer Lali the kind of resolution she desperately needed.

Despite knowing the answer, Cooper asked the volunteer director how she was holding up. Lali sighed heavily. ”There was a story in Sunday's paper about the suspicious deaths of our clients. I knew it would come out sooner or later, but the timing is really awful because we just sent out our quarterly requests for funding last week. We've had two corporate accounts already call this morning to say that they'll be donating to a different cause in the future as they don't want their names connected to our troubles.”

”That's awful.”

”If we lose any more benefactors, we're going to have to turn away clients.” Lali rubbed her temples. ”I can't stand the thought of saying no to people who have a true need for our services. I don't even know where we're going to sc.r.a.pe together the money to pay for our current clients.”

Cooper observed the men and women seated in nearby cubicles. Every one of them was engaged in a phone conversation, and as Cooper worked on the broken fax machine located in the middle of the row, it became obvious that the Door-2-Door staff was putting every ounce of their energy into garnering donations. Even though their pleas were replete with pa.s.sion and conviction, most of them hung up their phones without having secured any funds.

Angrily twisting a screw into place, Cooper reflected that the Door-2-Door killer had already stolen the lives of several helpless elderly men and women, but now, the villain was also diminis.h.i.+ng the chances for other aged Richmonders to receive the meals they desperately needed.

”It's out of our hands now,” Cooper reminded herself with a whisper.

When her repair on the fax machine was complete, she packed up her tools and relocated to a hallway outside the conference room. The copier, a refurbished Canon image-Runner 6000, looked as though it hadn't been serviced since it left the factory. Cooper accessed the interior of the machine and began her a.n.a.lysis of the existing problems. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice a pair of black boots appear behind her toolbox. She gazed up to see Campbell standing there, his ma.s.sive arms on his hips and a playful smirk on his face.

”Well, well. So you're our repairman, eh? A woman wielding tools is a cool thing. It's easy to forget that our volunteers have lives outside of my kitchen.” He stroked the braid hanging down from his beard. ”I won't be seein' you guys this weekend.” He blinked and the amused glimmer vanished. ”Keep an eye on things for me, would you?”

Cooper's mind raced. Did Campbell realize that the killer was likely one of his Friday or Sat.u.r.day volunteers? Was he leaving town because he was guilty?

”Of course I will,” she a.s.sured him. ”But I don't quite give off the same vibe of authority as you do. Guess I could rent one of those muscle suits, but there's no chance of me growing a Fu Manchu by Sat.u.r.day.” She wiped her hands on a rag. ”So where are you off to?”

”I've gotta run to the beach. There's this girl there. Aurora. She's a bartender at one of the big hotels on the strip. She rides a Harley, she sings like an angel, and she's tough as nails.”

”And pretty?”

The light returned to Campbell's eyes. ”The most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth. And I'm gonna meet her folks for lunch on Sat.u.r.day. She wants to be serious about our relations.h.i.+p and if this is what it takes to officially make her my own, then I'll meet her family, her preacher, her high school teachers, her Girl Scout leader-anybody!”

Cooper wiped some ink from her wrench and smiled. ”I heard that you've liked this woman for a long time but she didn't really, um, return your affection. How'd you get her to change her mind?”

”With this.” Campbell turned his back on Cooper and then yanked his tight black T-s.h.i.+rt over his head. A spectrum of colors covering the skin of his back was suddenly revealed. Cooper found herself staring at the biggest tattoo she had ever seen. It began as blue waves on his lower back-an ocean filled with tropical fish and fingers of coral. Above the curls of white foam in the middle of Campbell's back, porpoises leapt from the surf. An enormous sunrise, created with dazzling yellows, oranges, and hot pinks, spread from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Striped sunrays radiated outward from the edges of Campbell's shoulders to the base of his neck. Doves carrying red roses in their beaks flew upward toward the ornate black letters spelling out the name Aurora.

”Wow,” Cooper breathed.

Campbell pulled his s.h.i.+rt down over the taut muscles of his back and swiveled around. ”That's what Aurora said. She figured I must really want the real thing with her to do what I did.”

Cooper nodded. ”Yeah, I would say so! That's a pretty permanent gesture.”

”She's all I ever wanted.” Campbell held out his hands as though he meant to grab the handlebars of his bike. ”In a few days, it'll be time to ride to my lady. Anita's filling in for me this weekend, but help her keep an eye on everybody. If I catch the piece of sc.u.m that's been messin' with my food, I'm gonna think of all new uses for that deep freeze.”

”I'll do my best,” Cooper promised him and then watched as he walked away, his burly figure buoyed by a litheness that could only be attributed to happiness.

He's not the killer, she thought. Like Erik, Campbell is motivated by love instead of money. So who wants money, or to deliberately hurt old folks, more than anything else? That's our murderer.

Before she had the chance to review her mental list of remaining suspects, her phone rang. Swallowing, she saw that the number belonged to a Taylor Rector. She was being summoned.

Nathan happened to call her cell right after she got off the phone with Investigator Rector and he insisted on accompanying her to the police headquarters. Although Cooper argued with him over his decision as she drove toward Parham Road, he wouldn't take no for an answer.

”I was with you, remember?”

”You wouldn't have been there if I'd just kept my big mouth shut about what I was doing. I refuse to let you get in trouble with the cops because you were trying to be a good boyfriend.”

”It took me long enough!” Nathan countered. ”I kept putting work before you. Not anymore, Cooper.”

Though pleased by his comment, Cooper couldn't let Nathan share the blame for her rash behavior. ”I'm pulling into the parking lot and I refuse to tell you who I'm here to see. Please wait for me out in the lobby, Nathan. Just knowing you're close by will mean the world to me.”

Nathan mumbled something noncommittal and said good-bye.

After checking in at the front, Cooper was led through a warren of desks by a stern-faced and uncommunicative officer until they reached a wooden door bearing Investigator Rector's name on a bra.s.s plate.

The investigating officer was not what Cooper had expected. He was about her age and, due to his ruddy cheeks and freckled nose, had a boyish appearance. His hair was roguishly wavy and his brown eyes, tinged with green, were framed by a sweep of dark eyelashes that most women would kill for. A file folder was open in the center of a disheveled desk and, by pointing at one of the two empty chairs pushed against the back wall, Rector indicated that Cooper should sit while he wrapped up his phone conversation.

Swallowing nervously, she noticed that Aaron Crosby's diary had been transferred to an official plastic evidence bag and was placed in a prominent position on the policeman's desk.

”Ms. Lee, I presume?” Investigator Rector said rhetorically as he replaced his phone receiver with a firm click into the cradle.

”Guilty as charged,” Cooper replied and then silently cursed herself for such a poor choice of words.