Read The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) for Free Online Page B

place.”
    Edward’s mouth twitched in amusement. Again, Cooper was struck by the force of his presence. He hadn’t uttered a single word and yet she felt clearheaded and confident just because he was in the room. Predicting her next move, Edward handed her the cordless phone from the cradle behind him. Cooper dialed 911 and provided what few details she could about the dead man in Ashley’s garage, and then hung up. She exhaled in relief. Help was on the way.
    “Well, ladies, that’s my cue,” Edward said and turned for the door.
    Cooper followed him. “Your timing was heaven-sent. Thanks for stopping to check on me by the highway and for bringing me here.”
    Edward dipped his chin. “I’m going back to your truck. You can’t leave it there all night,” he said as he stepped out into the cold. “Have one of the cops”—he said the word with distaste—“drive you back when they’re done with you. It’ll be ready to roll.”
    “Wait!” Cooper said loudly as he strode toward his bike. “I don’t even know what to call you! Edward or the Colonel?”
    Smiling, he threw a leg over his bike and prepared to don his helmet. “Depends on what company I’m keeping. With you, I’m Edward.”
    Before she could reiterate her thanks, Edward fired up the motor. With a wave of his black-gloved hand, he sped off down the drive.
    By the time Cooper returned to the kitchen, rubbing her cold-reddened hands together, Ashley had changed into a rose-hued sweater set and gray slacks. She’d even added a string of pearls and pulled her hair back into a silk headband. Cooper watched her apply a layer of pink lipstick using the toaster’s reflection as if she were primping for a ladies’ luncheon instead of preparing to meet a team of police officers.
    “Are you getting gussied up for the cops?” she asked, startling Ashley. The lipstick slid across her sister’s cheek like a smear from a melting popsicle.
    “I feel more comfortable this way.” Ashley wiped her cheek and eyed Cooper intently. “Who was that Zorro on two wheels?”
    “Edward Crosby,” Cooper said. When Ashley responded with a blank look, Cooper went on. “His father was murdered last year by the Door-2-Door Dinner killer. Remember?”
    Her sister’s eyes grew round in horror. “He’s the convict? And he was in my kitchen?”
    “He’s obviously not incarcerated anymore,” Cooper replied sharply. “I got a flat tire driving home and he pulled over to help me change it. Then you called and I needed to get here as fast as I could, so he gave me a ride. Pretty gentlemanly behavior for a convict.”
    “Edward.” Ashley tried out the name. “He has magnetism, that’s for sure.” When the telltale blush crept up her sister’s neck, she yelled, “Ha! Just how tight were you holding on to him?”
    Fortunately, Cooper was saved from having to respond by the arrival of the police. Hurrying to open the front door, she was taken aback to see only a pair of uniformed men standing on the welcome mat.
    “This way, please.” She stepped back to let them inside. As the younger officer closed the door, Cooper introduced herself and then led the pair through the kitchen into the garage. “This is my sister, Ashley Love. This is her house and she’s the one who found the body.”
    Both sisters hung back as the officers walked to the rear of the Cadillac. The taciturn men exchanged subtle glances of surprise after looking inside the trunk, and suddenly their expressions of doubt turned into steely, determined frowns.
    The trapped air inside the garage grew heavier in the silence. It was as if the presence of additional witnesses multiplied the horror of the dead man’s bound hands and taped mouth. The entire space was polluted by the taint of violence.
    Cooper took Ashley by the elbow and pulled her out of the garage and into her living room. There, the sisters sank into the soft chenille cushions of the sofa. Ashley hugged a floral pillow to her chest