Free The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) by Ellery Adams

Grammy appeared at the kitchen table first. “I knew you kids were actin’ funny last night,” she said and took a seat.
    Though they were able to walk their family through the events of Monday night, neither daughter could set their mother’s mind at ease by telling her that the police had made an arrest.
    “This case may never get solved.” Ashley’s hands shook as she reached for her glass of water. “A murderer is running loose!”
    Earl put a strong hand on each of his daughter’s shoulders and squeezed. “I’m glad you two came through this ordeal none the worse for wear.” He then gave Maggie a tender look. “It’s a shame that the unfortunate young man ended up in your garage, Ashley, but I don’t see that we should get it fixed in our minds that anyone is after you.” His gaze shifted to Cooper. “This is for the lawmen to handle. You stay out of the way and try to move on, ya hear?”
    But now, five days later, Cooper was just as troubled by Miguel’s death as she’d been when she first peered inside the Cadillac’s trunk. She unfolded the paper and read the headline story on the strife in Richmond’s East End. The reporter commented on the unusual number of shootings in January, stating that the violent crimes committed that month were more like the statistics expected in June or July. The tragic exchange of gunfire by two African-American teens had made the front page. The two young men, who’d fought over the right to spray paint a few square feet of cement, both died at the scene. Theirs was not the only blood spilled, however, for a stray bullet also stole the life of a ten-year-old girl walking home from a friend’s apartment.
    The anguish felt by the residents of East End screamed through the black print.
    “The police are never going to be able to focus on Miguel Ramos’s case in the face of this horrible tragedy,” Cooper muttered sadly while staring at the photograph of the East End crime scene. A dozen policemen were frozen in investigative postures, scrutinizing the ground, collecting spent bullets, and interviewing bystanders. Crime scene tape was tied from every available tree and telephone pole.
    Earl looked up from his crossword puzzle and tapped the paper in Cooper’s hands. “This scene is starting to repeat itself. It’s no good. Little girls dying from stray bullets, young men killing one another over an insult, and drugs everywhere, poisoning people’s minds. I’m not saying Miguel’s death isn’t important, but it didn’t spread fear like a wildfire.” He put his pen down. “How about we get going? Grammy wants me to take her to Wal-Mart, and you don’t need to be reading this stuff right now.”
    “Wal-Mart? On a Saturday?” Cooper was astonished. “It’ll be a zoo.”
    Earl nodded. “Don’t I know it? Grammy probably wants to get her kicks by ramming a few folks with her cart. Maybe she’ll behave if you come along.”
    With Nathan away for the day visiting a former college roommate in northern Virginia, Cooper had no plans, so she reluctantly agreed.
    From the moment they passed through Wal-Mart’s sliding glass doors, Grammy was deliberately impish. She shuffled along behind her cart at a snail’s pace, stopped abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and snorted with impatience when another woman blocked her access to the pitted prunes.
    Earl took her behavior in stride until they reached the women’s underwear section. When Grammy held up bikini briefs and demanded to be shown where the underwear for “normal, decent folk” was located, he suddenly shouted, “I’ll be in the hardware department!” and took off at a brisk pace.
    Grammy smirked and then held up a minuscule black pair of panties made of faux satin. “Is this underwear or an eye patch?” she asked Cooper.
    Laughing, Cooper managed to find the cotton briefs Grammy wanted. They moved through accessories, where Cooper was attracted to a colorful display of fleece hats, gloves, and