The women stopped talking and left the restroom. Cooper washed her hands and hurriedly followed suit.

As she headed back downstairs to rejoin her friends, she wondered whether to mention the thievery to them. After all, she was not meant to have heard the conversation between Lali and Anita. On the other hand, she knew that if the Sunrise members became aware that one of their fellow volunteers was an immoral scoundrel, they would do their best to uncover the mystery surrounding the thefts.

Guide me on this one, Lord, Cooper prayed silently. If we can do some good, have me tell them. If we're going to make things worse, then I'll just stay quiet. Cooper waited for a moment, but no inner voice spoke to her, so she hastily added, You can get back to me on this one, Lord. I'll be listening for your answer.

4.

Then the LORD said to Cain, "Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast?"

Genesis 4:6 (NIV) The Sunrise Bible study members spent the remainder of the morning learning how to properly load coolers with prepackaged client meals. As the Door-2-Door Dinners facility was closed on Sunday, many clients received food boxes in addition to their regular Sat.u.r.day meals to help see them through the twenty-four-hour stretch when no meals would be delivered to their homes.

Because she had never volunteered there before, Cooper was paired with an older woman named Penny. Penny, who had dove-gray eyes and an open, gentle face, showed Cooper how to check the shrink-wrapped trays for holes in the plastic, how to pack the food in order, and the proper technique for stacking the coolers onto wheeled carts so they could be delivered to the volunteers waiting outside in their cars.

"Checking for holes and making sure that n.o.body will miss a meal are the most important things," Penny explained as she gestured at one of the trays. "If Mr. Joseph here is going to be having fish for dinner tonight, we don't want it to start rotting before he can get it in his fridge. Most of us drive routes when we're done with our packing, so we've gotten to know all the names listed on these labels." She showed Cooper the name and route numbers located on each meal.

Nodding, Cooper glanced at Penny as they worked, thinking that the soft-voiced woman seemed so intent on getting things perfect for the Door-2-Door clients that she simply couldn't visualize the older volunteer pocketing jewelry or other valuables from one of their houses.

Looking around the kitchen, which was spotlessly clean and perfectly organized, Cooper studied the other volunteers. According to Campbell, there were seven "regulars" who showed up every Sat.u.r.day morning. In fact, Campbell stated with pride as he pulled on his braided beard, "The 'Super Seven' haven't missed a single Sat.u.r.day in a year's time."

The Super Seven were made up of four women and three men, all of whom moved about their tasks with chipper efficiency. Not one of them had s.h.i.+fty eyes, a nervous stare, or the guilty visage of a heartless villain. They were completely normal people. If anything set them apart, it was their willingness to give up fifty-two Sat.u.r.day mornings in order to load and deliver meals to those in need.

Cooper zipped up one of the coolers for Route #4 and then took a moment to look around the kitchen. She watched Erik, an attractive man in his mid-sixties, slide a crayon into Savannah's hand so that the artist could decorate a few of the plain cardboard food boxes as the others busily packed. Nathan was paired with a woman near Penny's age and he seemed to be charming her with his quiet ways and sincere manner, for the two of them were muttering to one another and laughing as though they were old friends.

One of the younger male volunteers, who was very short in stature and had Down syndrome, was partnered with Jake.

"I'm Eugene!" the young man announced to Jake. Jake shook hands and smiled as Eugene proceeded to tell him all about the action movie he had seen on TV the night before. Jake listened patiently for several minutes and then kindly redirected his boisterous partner back to the job at hand. Each time he and Eugene were finished prepping coolers for a route, Jake had to roll up his sleeve and allow Eugene to touch the Celtic cross tattoo on his sinewy bicep before the young man would consent to return to work again.

On the opposite side of the kitchen, Bryant was busy flas.h.i.+ng his famous meteorologist smile at both of the woman a.s.sisting him. One was a large African-American woman named Brenda who shouted and guffawed in response to everything Bryant said. The other woman, who seemed content to stand in Brenda's shadow, was a timid, mousy, middle-aged woman whose nametag read "Madge." Cooper didn't hear Madge utter a word all morning, but the plain-faced volunteer seemed to glow whenever Bryant paid attention to her.

Trish and Quinton were being mentored by Warren, a thin, rather nondescript man in his mid-forties with a blondish beard and weary-looking eyes. Cooper couldn't hear Warren's quiet instructions, but from the look on his face, he clearly took his job seriously. Though he smiled from time to time, it was evident that Warren didn't want any mistakes to occur with the routes he and the new volunteers were packing. Trish still did her best to impress her teacher by mentioning more than once that her company was sponsoring the food for an entire route for two months. When Warren didn't seem overly dazzled, she began to ask him if he was happy with his current residence.

"You're always a saleswoman, aren't you?" Quinton gently teased as they loaded two sets of coolers onto wheeled carts.

"Yes, I am!" Trish declared. "If you want to be the best at something, you've got to work at it every minute of the day. Take your song lyrics, for example."

A blush immediately appeared on Quinton's doughy cheeks. He was still shy regarding the subject of the praise songs he had been writing over the past year, preferring to show them only to Cooper, for she was the first person to compliment his lyrics.

"If you ever want to get paid for those songs or hear them sung by a band, then you've got to get yourself a music agent. You need to write letters and bang on doors and get in people's faces. In an entirely professional manner, of course," she added.

Quinton shrugged. "I'm not sure if the songs are ready for an agent to see."

"They're not ready or you're not ready for the feedback?" Trish demanded. "How many have you written by this point? How many have you allowed other people to read?" she continued doggedly. "How will you ever-?"

"LADY!" a deep voice roared, interrupting Trish's barrage of questions. "Lay off the man, for cryin' out loud. It's too d.a.m.n early for all that naggin'. What are you, his mama?"

The kitchen fell silent as the new arrival dropped a black bag onto the counter with a loud thud. Without greeting anyone, he grabbed one of the empty food trays and slung it onto a stack of other empty trays and then began to pack one of the larger coolers.

Cooper scrutinized him out of the corner of her blue eye. He was of average height but his hunched shoulders made him seem shorter than he really was, and every muscle in his body seemed tense with anger. His dark hair was cut close to the scalp and his eyes were deep brown with large, black pupils. The skin of his entire right arm, which was the shade of roasted pecans, was covered by an intricate tattoo. It took a moment for Cooper to see that the colored shapes curving up his forearm to his shoulder portrayed a panther locked in combat with a cobra. The panther's mouth was open in a fierce snarl and its claws were unsheathed into deadly points. The cobra's fangs dripped venom and its eyes were blood-red as it reared back a hooded head in preparation to strike. Cooper was unnerved by the intensity of danger reflected in the ink's scene and couldn't imagine why anyone would want to mark themselves with such a violent image.

"What are y'all starin' at?" the man demanded, standing erect and balling his hands into fists. All of the volunteers quickly averted their eyes, except for Eugene. Even though he was a good four inches shorter than the newcomer, Eugene strutted confidently up to the man and punched him lightly in the stomach.

"You grumpy again, Leo? Why are you always so grumpy?" Eugene frowned. "Do you need some coffee or a cookie or somethin'?"

Leo's hard face softened a fraction as he issued Eugene a mock right hook, which ended up barely grazing the bottom of the smaller man's chin. "Ain't no cookie gonna help. I got me a lifetime of worries, little man. You wanna be here, but I gotta be here. That makes me mad. Get it?"

Eugene was befuddled. "You don't like to help people?"

Leo shrugged. "I like to help myself to people's stuff, but that's it."

"That's not the same!" Eugene responded indignantly. "I know you got in trouble, Leo, but it doesn't mean you're bad." Eugene focused his eyes on Leo's tattoo and his voice trembled slightly. "At least, I don't think you're bad."

Leo raked his dark eyes once around the room as if determining whether he had an audience, but most of the other volunteers were still pretending to concentrate on packing food or whispering with quiet deliberation to one another.

"Eugene, I've gotta drag my sorry a.s.s in here for six months like the judge says, but I won't be here a day after that, you hear me? There's nothin' in it for Leo, see what I'm sayin'?" Leo grudgingly entered the walk-in fridge and reappeared with a wheeled cart that reached to his shoulders and was filled with twenty rows of steel trays. Eyeing the lunch sitting on the nearest tray, Leo grimaced. "Man! Not this nasty fish again. How these folks supposed to live on this c.r.a.p? Why can't they have fried chicken or pot roast or something? No wonder they can't get better so's they can make their own food. I wouldn't feed this s.h.i.+t to a dog."

"The dieticians know better than you do about nutritious meals," Campbell replied as he entered the kitchen, a clipboard held in his right hand. "So don't go insulting my flounder. It's good when it's heated. Has a nice, light lemon-b.u.t.ter sauce and collard greens to go with it. Baked apples for dessert and a thick, whole-wheat roll besides. It's a good, solid meal, so don't knock it," he added defensively and then put his hands on his hips and glowered. "And don't you ever use that kind of language in front of the ladies again or I'll have you gutting fish instead of packing it."

"Well, I don't wanna look at it." Leo pushed the cart to the middle of the floor, where Campbell stopped it from cras.h.i.+ng into one of the stainless steel counters by blocking it with his boot-encased foot. Visibly trying to control his temper, the muscular commander of the kitchen pointed at the side door.

"Leo, why don't you take your cheery self outside with some carts and start loading people's cars? I'm sure they'd love a taste of your special brand of perkiness on this fine Sat.u.r.day morning."

"Ain't you worried that I'll get invited into the car of some fine-lookin' lady who's afraid to drive all alone into the rough parts of town?" Leo wiggled his eyebrows. "And then I'll never come back?"

Campbell delivered a tray of packaged meals to Cooper and Penny's station. "I'll take my chances," he said, without bothering to meet Leo's challenging stare.

Deflated by the kitchen manager's lack of reaction, Leo grabbed the cart for Route #21, flung the side door open, and pushed the cart down the concrete ramp, muttering under his breath as he exited.

As soon as he was outside, the volunteers resumed their boisterous chitchat. Cooper, on the other hand, recalled what she had overhead in the restroom upstairs and felt inclined to question Penny in a hushed tone.

"Penny?" she leaned closer to the older woman. "What did Leo do? I mean, did he commit a crime or something?"

"To earn community service hours, you mean?" Penny asked and Cooper nodded in a.s.sent.

Checking the door in order to ensure that Leo would not return within the next few minutes, Penny answered, "He was arrested for disorderly conduct. I know he had to pay a pretty steep fine and work here every Sat.u.r.day for the next six months. He just started a month ago. I don't know what kind of work he's doing to pay the fine, either, but I get the sense he has to come up with a certain amount every month." Penny glanced at Eugene and sent a warm, maternal smile in his direction. "Eugene's the only one Leo will talk to. The rest of us have tried to be kind to him, but as you can see, he's not the easiest person to converse with." She gave an amused shake of her head. "But he sure keeps Sat.u.r.days lively around here."

"I bet," Cooper mumbled as she watched Leo reenter the kitchen. He shot her a menacing glance and she hurriedly looked away, before he could see that "lively" was not the word she would have chosen to define Leo's behavior. She loaded a cooler onto a roll cart and embarked out the side door, in search of the driver of Route #4.

Hostile, she thought. That's the word I'd use. But even if he's aggressive and unfriendly, he can't have done all the stealing. Mrs. Jensen's missing necklace was the fourth item stolen from clients' homes over the summer. Leo's only been here a month. Maybe he's got a partner.

"I think he bears watching," Cooper said aloud and then nearly upset the cart as she pushed it too quickly over the curb. Luckily, Nathan was close by and was able to grab a corner and steady it before all the coolers and Sunday food boxes skidded to the ground.

"Thanks." Cooper smiled gratefully and then helped the route driver place the food inside his old station wagon. Rows of cars filled with volunteers awaited the receipt of food for the Door-2-Door clients and Cooper felt her heart swell with happiness.

"Wouldn't this be a great photo for the front page of the Times-Dispatch?" she said to Nathan as they headed back up the ramp. "Why does everything printed on the front page of the paper have to be negative? I'm sick of reading stories about drug busts, arson, and crooked politicians. Wouldn't it be nice to read a headline about places like Door-2-Door?"

"The sensational grabs people's attention. It sells better," Nathan replied with a grin. "It's captivating. Personally, I'd like to read a story about a woman with one green eye and one blue eye. I was wondering if such a woman would care to have dinner with a boring, Star Warsobsessed Web designer this evening so I could conduct some research for a future article."

Cooper beamed. "I'd love to, but I doubt you'd find a publisher for my tell-all biography. I'm hardly a Tom Cruise."

"Well, I won't really be in a position to ask too many embarra.s.sing questions anyway," Nathan added hesitantly. "Because we won't be alone. I was hoping you could help me get a feel for this new client of mine. He's the one I told you all about in Bible study last week."

"The guy you're not sure you should work with?" Cooper inquired quickly, hoping to mask her disappointment over not being asked out on a proper date.

"Yeah. His name's Tobey Dodge and he's from L.A." Nathan parked his cart inside the kitchen and began to load it with the food for another route. "I just don't speak his language, you know?"

"I don't speak L.A., either," Cooper reminded him, feeling unsure about whether or not she felt like socializing with a man she knew nothing about, even if it meant spending time with Nathan. She fingered her b.u.t.terfly pin. "I've never had Botox, been in a tanning salon, or had my teeth whitened until my smile looks like a supernova."

"I know, I know. I just feel calm when you're around, Cooper. I can think more clearly if you're sitting beside me." He looked away, slightly embarra.s.sed by the admission.

The feeling of regret Cooper had briefly experienced over having to share Nathan's attention with a stranger instantly dissipated. "Then I'll be there," she answered softly. "Right beside you."

Resuming her work, Cooper thought about how lovely the phrase "beside you" sounded. It made her think of a bride and groom standing at the altar, of a couple married for fifty years seated next to one another on a porch swing, of a future filled with companions.h.i.+p and love.

Humming softly, she began to imagine herself at a candlelit dinner table with Nathan, their hands clasped as they planned a life together. Strangely, no businessman from L.A. appeared in her fantasy. There was no one named Tobey present to witness Nathan lean over to give Cooper a tender and lingering kiss.

Cooper spent Sat.u.r.day afternoon taking Grammy to Tom Leonard's Farmer's Market so that her grandmother could pick out some locally grown tomatoes and green beans. Normally, fresh vegetables were supplied by the Lees' own garden, but Maggie had harvested the scant remains of their crop and had already pickled or frozen the choicest produce. And since Grammy preferred to support local, family-owned businesses whenever possible, she asked to be taken to Tom Leonard's. There, she purchased bacon and pork chops from the butcher counter, fussing over the butcher as he chopped and trimmed to her specifications. "I ain't payin' for fat, young man," she chided.

Grammy also spent an exceedingly long time perusing the labels of several loaves of bread. "I don't want any of that low-fat crud," she told Cooper, tossing a loaf back onto the shelf. "I want my bread to taste like bread. The last time I let your father buy me bread, he got some healthy stuff that sat on my tongue like a square of cork-board. I told him to eat if he wanted to. He's got the big belly, not me. Shoot, I wasn't gonna ruin perfectly fine pieces of bacon, lettuce, and tomato by laying 'em on that tasteless junk."

Finally, Grammy selected some oatmeal bread and, after insisting on buying a paper bagful of peaches for Cooper to give to Nathan, they returned home. Grammy dumped her purchases in the kitchen for her daughter-in-law to shelve and went to her room for a catnap. Dismissed, Cooper puttered about in her greenhouse, feeding and watering containers of young chrysanthemums, sedum, and asters that would soon be planted by the circular mailbox bed and in dozens of pots outside the front door.

By late afternoon, as a nearly colorless sun sank lower in the sky, Cooper was ready for an iced coffee and a few of her mother's cookies. Sifting through the chest freezer in her parent's garage, she helped herself to three ginger mola.s.ses chocolate chip cookies and folded them into a napkin. After brewing coffee, pouring it over a large tumbler of ice followed by an inch of cold half and half, Cooper defrosted the cookies in her microwave and finished the find page of homework in her Amazing Joseph workbook.

She penciled in the last question of the exercise and found that her mind was filled with the profoundly disconcerting image of Joseph's brothers dipping his glorious robe in goat's blood so that they could allow their father to believe that wild animals had devoured his favorite son. Cooper couldn't begin to wrap her mind around the excruciating horror Jacob must have felt upon seeing his beloved child's bloodstained garment.

Glancing at her kitchen clock, she knew she should think about getting in the shower and commencing the lengthy process of trying to style her hair like the beautician who first cut it in so many layers had taught her. It would take an equal amount of time to struggle with the a.s.sortment of makeup Ashley had been instructing her to use on special occasions, too.

"How can women be bothered with so much nonsense every day?" she asked when Ashley had first brought her the products. "Can't I just stick with a little mascara and lipstick?"

"No, because these products can hide flaws and enhance attributes," Ashley had answered seriously. "And you need to enhance each and every time you see Nathan."

Even though Ashley's words echoed in Cooper's memory, she decided to delay her beauty regime a little longer by taking Columbus to the clearing behind their house so he could catch his supper. Something about witnessing the hawk's lazy ascent into the clouds always brought a feeling of peacefulness her, and as her apprehension over her dinner with Nathan's client returned, she sought get all the serenity she could.

"Oh, I wish it could just be the two of us!" Cooper exclaimed to Columbus, who replied with an unsympathetic blink of his amber eyes.

As Cooper walked with the hawk on her arm, his talons sinking into Earl's thick leather gloves, shadows from the trees and split-rail fence began to invade the golden gra.s.s of the field. Columbus dove twice from the heights and then alighted on his favorite fallen tree in order to swallow the rodent he had plucked from a tangle of weeds. Once his meal was consumed, Cooper allowed him to preen for a few minutes, and then she returned the satiated hawk to his cage. She completed her bath and beauty routine in record time and dressed in a chocolate-brown, knee-length skirt and a chartreuse sweater set. Placing the b.u.t.terfly pin through the cardigan's silky material, she studied herself in the mirror.

"Not bad for a thirty-something. Still don't have L.A. b.o.o.bs, but there's always Victoria's Secret," she stated jauntily to her reflection and headed out to her truck.

Nathan was waiting for her outside the restaurant, looking dapper in a fawn-colored b.u.t.ton-down, checkered blazer, and dark brown pants. His tie was a shade of deep mustard st.i.tched with dozens of russet-hued leaves. Each leaf was cupped like a hand and appeared to be falling down the length of the material. It reminded Cooper that autumn was right around the corner.

"You're lovely," Nathan said, holding open the heavy wooden door to Hondo's, one of Richmond's finest steak restaurants.

Cooper smiled at the compliment, but secretly wished that Nathan had kissed her by way of greeting.

"Let's wait for Tobey at the bar," Nathan suggested. "He won't be here for another half hour. I wanted to spend a little time alone with you first." He brushed her hand with his and then perused the wine list. He ordered a gla.s.s of Merlot for himself and then asked Cooper what she felt like drinking. Unsure, she reread the c.o.c.ktail menu, but nothing seemed to grab her interest.

"We've got a special tonight," suggested the bartender. "It's an autumn margarita. It's made with fresh cranberries, cranberry juice, and Grand Marnier. It's really smooth."

"Now that sounds like a combination I've got to try," Cooper replied gratefully and then looked away as the bartender remained immobile, staring at her eyes. "Thanks for the recommendation," she prompted and her words caused him to blink and finally turn away in order to pour Nathan's wine into an elegant gla.s.s.

"So what did you think about your first day at Door-2-Door?" Nathan asked as his wine was placed in front of him. "I liked everyone, except I'd prefer not to have to work with that angry Leo guy every weekend."

"It's too bad that the volunteers seemed reluctant to laugh or joke around with him nearby," Cooper answered. "He blows in there like a hot wind and everyone goes quiet. They shouldn't let him bring them down."

"Except for Eugene. He's the only one with the guts to look Leo in the eye." Nathan grinned and then took a sip of his wine. "I really had a good time this morning and I'm glad Trish got us involved. I've been so busy with work that months have flown by without me having a social life. Being in the middle of that group and back at Bible study reminded me how much I missed my friends."

Nathan stopped talking as the bartender placed a hand-blown martini gla.s.s filled with crimson liquid on a coaster and waited for Cooper to sample his concoction. She took a sip and tasted cold, fresh cranberries and lime. It was sweet and tart and utterly refres.h.i.+ng.

"Delicious," she told the bartender. Pleased, he moved to the other end of the bar to serve two businessmen who placed their orders while conducting simultaneous conversations on their cell phones.

"Cooper." Nathan stroked the stem of his winegla.s.s as he glanced sideways at her. "I've wanted to call you a bunch of times over the past few weeks. I feel like we had something growing between us and then, I don't know, I let all my work stuff interfere." He focused on his gla.s.s again. "If I take Tobey on, it's going to get even crazier, but I'd like to go out with you more. Make it a priority. See where things can go." He returned his gaze to her face.

The sincerity and hopefulness in his warm brown eyes made Cooper long to stroke his high forehead, bring the tip of her finger down his pointed nose, and trace the curve of his strong jaw. She had never felt such a crus.h.i.+ng urge to kiss someone before, especially not in public, but as they stared at one another, Cooper began to force her body to close the gap between them.

"I'd like to go out with you more often, too," she whispered, her voice husky. Feeling her body p.r.i.c.kle with heat beneath her clothes, she parted her lips and closed her eyes.

At that moment, a very short and stocky man swaggered into the restaurant and called out Nathan's name. He wore a silvery suit that cast a sheen even in the dim light of the bar, an eggplant-colored s.h.i.+rt, and black shoes polished to a high s.h.i.+ne. He had on a silver and purple striped tie, a gold watch on one wrist, and a gold link bracelet on the other. Cooper a.s.sumed that Tobey was in his early thirties, but his thinning hair made him look a lot older.

Irritated by Tobey's arrival, Cooper drank the rest of her margarita in three gulps. She caught the bartender's eye and pointed at her empty gla.s.s and he appeared as suddenly as a lightning strike with a fresh drink. "Bad timing, huh?" he murmured and Cooper wondered how many of the bar's patrons had seen her mouth hanging open and her eyes shut, awaiting a kiss that didn't happen.

Unaware that he had interrupted a romantic moment, Tobey pumped Nathan and Cooper's hands in greeting, complained about the traffic on Broad Street, slipped off his jacket, and ordered a Jack and c.o.ke from the bartender without pausing for breath.

"What's with all the fish on people's cars in this town?" he asked Nathan while the bartender fixed his drink.

"Fish?" Nathan was perplexed.

"You know. Jesus fish. Or whatever they're called. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You can't turn a corner in this city without b.u.mping into a church. In L.A.," he babbled on, "it's more bars or Starbucks or music stores than anything else. My city's bigger. Glitzier. Like a woman on the red carpet. You guys ever been?"

Nathan and Cooper shook their heads.

"You should. It's a cool town. Totally hip. Lots of gorgeous women. Kinda like you." Tobey smiled warmly at Cooper.

As Cooper recognized the compliment with a slight nod, the restaurant's hostess suddenly materialized in order to show them to their table. Tobey grabbed a second Jack and c.o.ke, tipped the bartender generously, and immediately launched into amiable small talk with their hostess while she tried to review the specials. When she was done, a pretty young waitress appeared and recommended the shrimp c.o.c.ktail to start followed by the filet accompanied by lobster tail. As she departed to collect a loaf of homemade bread and honey b.u.t.ter, Tobey gestured at the leather-covered menus and said, "Please order anything you'd like. This meal's on me."

Cooper thanked him for his generosity, silently noting that the cost of her meal would equal half a week's grocery bill. When their waitress returned, all three of them ordered the shrimp c.o.c.ktail. Nathan and Tobey also chose the cowboy-cut rib-eye with Caesar salads and roasted mushrooms, while Cooper opted for the pet.i.te filet and the house salad.

"Would you like a side of Bearnaise with your steak?" the waitress inquired.

Tobey leaned forward and gave Cooper an encouraging smile. "You look like you're in pretty good shape. You can afford the boatload of fat and calories in the sauce. Go on, live it up!"

The waitress looked expectantly at Cooper, who had no idea what Bearnaise sauce tasted like.