The Way of the Wicked (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 2) Read Free Page B

spot her transgression. She exhaled in relief and eased her foot from the gas pedal.
    I’ve been so unsettled lately, she thought as she parked at her office building. Even though she was already five minutes late returning from lunch, she picked up her Bible study workbook from the passenger seat and opened to the question she had yet to answer. Gripping a pencil in her hand, she read the italicized words for the tenth time in a matter of days.
    What are you seeking most at this time in your life?
    Cooper stared at the question for a long moment, remembering a time when she’d been Drew Milton’s girlfriend. He broke up with Cooper nearly a year ago and was now engaged to another woman, but Cooper still missed being a part of a couple.
    Taking a deep breath , Cooper hastily scribbled: I want to fall in love again. I’m ready, Lord. I am so ready.
     
    • • •
     
    “What happened to your face?” asked Jake the plumber when Cooper entered the Hope Street Church Christian Academy classroom where her Bible study group met.
    Cooper reached up to touch the swath of red bumps covering the left side of her face and neck. The rash had almost kept her from coming to the meeting, but her desire to see her friends—Nathan Dexter in particular—had overwhelmed her embarrassment.
    “It’s poison ivy,” she said, her hand lingering on her itchy cheek. She’d covered the area with clear Calamine lotion and had then applied a layer of foundation on top of that, hoping to camouflage the rash. Instead, she’d created a kind of flesh-colored paste that glistened in the morning light.
    “I don’t know much about plants, but when I schedule an open house I always check the yard for poison ivy the week before,” Trish said, absently smoothing a strand of her shellacked copper hair.
    “You’re still beautiful to me.” Savannah, the legally blind folk artist and leader of their Bible study, reached out for Cooper’s hand. “It’s good to have you with us again, my dear.”
    Cooper squeezed her friend’s hand in return.
    “So how did you end up getting that on your face?” Bryant Shelton, Richmond’s best-known meteorologist, persisted.
    “My grammy’s taken in a stray cat. It’s a longhair and I was petting it the other night right after it came back from the woods. The oil from the plant must have transferred from its fur to my fingers, and I guess I touched my face.” Resisting the urge to dig her nails through the prickly skin on her cheek, Cooper slid into a seat next to Quinton, who was furiously writing something on a yellow legal pad. “Are you writing a new song?” she asked, hoping that the questions about her rash would cease if she changed the subject.
    Quinton, a portly investment banker with an aptitude for baking and penning praise songs, nodded. “Something just came to me and I wanted to get it down before we start talking about Joseph.”
    “Speaking of faces,” Trish said and Cooper held her breath, but the Realtor turned a pair of violet eyes on Bryant. “I think I saw you with a new girlfriend at the movies last week. She appeared to be about the same age as our babysitter.”
    “Missy? She’s a grad student. I met her here at church a few weeks ago,” Bryant said casually. “That’s a better start than most of my relationships have had.” In addition to his incredibly vague forecasts, Bryant was notorious for his series of failed marriages to young blondes half his age. Though he wasn’t her type, Cooper could see why women were attracted to the handsome meteorologist. Still, she knew that Bryant’s Bible study friends were worried about him rushing into one more doomed marriage and often prayed for him to proceed with more caution before pursuing yet another young woman.
    “Does the future Mrs. Shelton know you wear makeup?” Jake teased.
    Before Bryant could respond to Jake’s good-natured barb, Nathan Dexter walked into the room carrying a large bakery box.
    Quinton forgot