Free The Path of the Crooked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 1) by Ellery Adams Page B

this day seems as dark as they come, but you’ll be all right.”
    Caleb wriggled away from McNamara’s touch. “Will you swear to me that you’ll look for the real killer, even though you have my dad in custody? Swear to me that you won’t take the easy route and let an innocent man suffer! That man”—he jabbed his finger toward his father—“loved my mother more than life!”
    McNamara never took his eyes off Caleb. “I understand, son. We’ll be thorough. You have my word.”
    As Caleb slumped off, McNamara’s and Cooper’s eyes met. He studied her for a moment and she felt the heat of his penetrating stare. Suddenly, she wanted to be alone, so without speaking to any of the Bible study members, she walked off to her truck. As she drove home, the image of Caleb’s pained face swam before her eyes. Once again, her longing for a cigarette almost seduced her into heading to the nearest convenience store.
    “I have to help Brooke’s son,” she muttered, shaking off the temptation.
    Back at her apartment, Cooper settled down at the kitchen table, picked up her magnifying glass and a scrap of Brooke’s document, and prayed, “Guide my fingers, please.” And then she got to work.
    Cooper was so engrossed that she forgot to brew her afternoon coffee or dig around in her parents’ kitchen for a serving of her mother’s cookies. She didn’t think to take Columbus out for a meal or water the plants in her greenhouse. She forgot about everything but the sorrow she’d seen in the eyes of Brooke’s husband and son.
     
    • • •
     
    “You’ve got such a long face that I can’t tell if you’re goin’ to church or to a hangin’,” Grammy said the next morning as she and Cooper crossed paths in the backyard. Grammy used a tissue to toss a mouse into Columbus’s cage. Once the hawk had swallowed his breakfast, Grammy blew him a kiss, shuffled through the house, and stood impatiently by the front door. Cooper followed, knowing that Grammy’s balance wasn’t what it used to be and that she might require help on their gravel driveway. Grammy checked her reflection in a cracked compact and then gave her granddaughter the once-over. “What do you have in your hand?”
    “My workbook.” Cooper realized that she was unconsciously curling her book into a tube. “I was just reading over my notes again.”
    “Listen. There’s no right or wrong answer to these things, girlie.” Grammy hitched up her navy blue knee-highs and licked her finger in order to rub a spot of dirt from her shoe. “This is about bein’ on a path—not gettin’ to the end of it.”
    “I like that,” Cooper said. “You’re pretty smart, Grammy.”
    “Used to be, anyway.” Grammy held out her scrawny arm. “How about walkin’ an old lady to your daddy’s car?”
    As Cooper guided her grandmother to the backseat of her father’s rusty Oldsmobile, her parents stepped outside and, hand in hand, promenaded toward the car as though they’d just been elected the prom king and queen. Cooper smiled. Few days passed when she didn’t yearn for a love like her parents had. It wasn’t so long ago that she thought she and Drew would be just like her parents. She had even fantasized about what their babies would look like.
    Earl and Maggie exchanged morning greetings with their older daughter while Grammy settled herself in the backseat and rummaged around in her canvas purse. Just as Cooper was about to shut the door, Grammy sprayed Cooper’s chest with a liberal dose of powerful perfume.
    “That’ll get ya some male attention!” Grammy announced triumphantly.
    “Ugh!” Cooper swiped at the beads of scented mist peppering the front of her shirt. “What is this stuff?”
    Grammy slammed the door and rolled down her window inch by tedious inch. “I got it at the Dollar Tree. Came in a real nice pink bottle. Let’s go, Earl!” she shouted. “I want a good seat.”
    “I smell like a PEZ factory!” Cooper called after the