Fate of the Fallen Read online

  Fate of the Fallen

  Cooper Lee and her friends in the Hope Street Bible Study Group are enjoying a glorious summer day in the park, complete with picnic, hiking, swimming, and a local bluegrass band. But Cooper knows that no good day goes unpunished, and when a man turns up dead in the nearby woods—and the sister of Cooper’s fiancé is named as the prime suspect—the group may have to trade in their prayers of thanks for pleas of divine intervention.

  Cooper knows her future sister-in-law is innocent, so when the police arrest her for the murder, the Bible study group must step in to catch the real killer and prevent a grave injustice. Following a twisted trail of clues that leads to a hit-and-run driver, a homeless veteran, and a park full of suspects who may hold more secrets than solutions, Cooper must hold firm to her spiritual convictions before an innocent woman faces a conviction of a more earthly nature.

  Beyond the Page Books

  are published by

  Beyond the Page Publishing

  www.beyondthepagepub.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Stanley and Elizabeth Lockard.

  Material excerpted from The Path of the Crooked copyright © 2014 by Jennifer Stanley.

  Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  ISBN: 978-1-940846-75-0

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Acknowledgments

  The author would like to thank Chris for his love and support and Cherry for her tasty recipes.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Magnolia’s Marvels

  Excerpt from The Path of the Crooked

  The Hope Street Church Mysteries

  Books by Ellery Adams

  About the Authors

  There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

  a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,

  a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,

  a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,

  a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

  a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,

  a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,

  a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

  Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 (NIV)

  1

  “Two houses and a motel. Looks like you owe me one thousand dollars,” Cooper said triumphantly, pushing her Boardwalk card toward Quinton as proof of his debt. He sat across the dining table from her, in the company of the rest of the Sunrise Bible Study Group. They were enjoying a post-church game at the Lee house, while Cooper’s folks and Grammy were at a church picnic.

  Quinton glanced at the Boardwalk card and groaned, as if he were in physical pain, and began slowly counting out the bills with his big sausage fingers. “I earn a living with accounting. You’d think I’d be better at a money-based game like Monopoly.”

  Jake laughed and slapped his knee, nearly spilling his lemonade on Savannah, who sat close by. “I guess I’ll be going to Cooper for my accounting needs from now on.”

  Trish delivered a playful jab to his shoulder. “Jake, you had to pay me four hundred dollars for landing on Waterworks.”

  Jake shrugged. “So?”

  “So you’re a plumber. And you can’t handle the Waterworks. What does that say about you professionally?”

  Jake just laughed as Trish continued. “Relax, Quinton. I don’t think anybody’s going to judge your financial acumen by your aptitude for a board game. And if it helps you at all, I’m doing terribly, and I make a living with real estate.”

  “I sure hope you’re right,” Quinton replied, passing the colorful bills to Cooper. He had a competitive gleam in his eye. “Otherwise, Coop, you might make me lose some clients.”

  “I won’t tell your clients about our little money exchange,” Cooper said, accepting the Monopoly cash with a smile. “You have my word.”

  Nathan took a coconut cream thumbprint cookie from the big plate beside the playing board. Cooper’s mama, Magnolia Lee of Magnolia’s Marvels cookies, had gone on a baking frenzy last night, and the Bible study was reaping the benefits.

  When Nathan put his hand on the table, the black band on his wrist lit up with the time. Jake spied the band dubiously. “What in heaven’s name is that thing on your arm?”

  Nathan held up his wrist to display the band. It was rubber and about half an inch wide, wrapped around his wrist like a watch. “It’s called a Fitbit,” he explained. “My sister, Christine, gave it to me.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “For helping me get in shape before the wedding.” Nathan flexed his muscles and struck a muscle-man pose as he answered. “It helps me keep track of my exercise and calories. It buzzes whenever I reach my daily goal of ten thousand steps.”

  “Fancy!” Savannah exclaimed.

  “Ah, someone wants to make sure you look good in all the photos,” Quinton said, pointing his thumb toward Cooper. “We understand.”

  Cooper put her arms protectively around Nathan. He wasn’t a bodybuilder by any stretch, but he was trim and cut a handsome figure in his tux. “I think he already looks great. I had absolutely nothing to do with the whole fitness thing.”

  “It was all my idea,” Nathan assured them. “My sister was telling me about a fitness challenge she’s doing at work. She loves her Fitbit so much that I wanted to give one a try. She bought this for me. Said it was an engagement gift.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. The large screen glowed blue. “It’s really cool! The Fitbit communicates with my smartphone to track my walks, my heart rate, my exercise patterns and sleep schedule. I can enter my food and water consumption right into the application on my phone. Great, right?”

  “Way too technological for me,” Jake said with a shake of his head. “I still think my digital watch is a pretty neat idea.”

  “What can I say?” Nathan replied. “I like gadgets. And I l
ike really awesome things . . . like my awesome fiancée!”

  Nathan kissed Cooper’s hand, and she instinctively looked down at her engagement ring. The diamond in its platinum setting sparkled with every movement. For the past six months since he’d popped the question, Cooper had taken every opportunity to move her hand in the light to watch the beautiful diamond dance. It was magical. Even more magical was the fact that they’d finally settled on a date for the wedding. Come next June, she’d be Mrs. Nathan Dexter. She smiled every time she thought about it.

  Savannah rolled the dice and turned to Jake for the sum. Legally blind, she couldn’t see the numbers, but still enjoyed playing the game.

  “Five,” Jake said and reached across the board to move her playing piece. “I’ll get that for you. I’m closer.”

  Bryant’s attention was on Cooper as she smiled at her ring. He smirked. “I know that look.”

  Cooper’s smile vanished in uncertainty. “What look?”

  “That look. I’ve been married three times, Cooper. I’ve seen that ‘ecstatic bride-to-be’ look plenty of times.”

  Cooper relaxed, her smile returning. “No offense, Bryant, but I’d rather not be compared to the women who divorced you.”

  Bryant sat back in his chair and put up his hands apologetically. “I understand. I understand. My roll?”

  Savannah passed the dice. “I’m afraid my poor little dog landed in jail. Again.” She sighed. “I’ve decided to name him Paul, after the apostle. Did quite a bit of jail time himself, that one.”

  “Well, I’m sorry for your unfortunate stint in the big house,” Bryant said as he moved his playing piece to B&O Railroad. “But I am about to purchase the last railroad. That means I own all four.”

  His announcement was met with a collective groan from the rest of the group.

  One hour, a gallon of lemonade, and another plate of cookies later, Bryant took Cooper’s last hundred dollars, ending a pleasant afternoon of game play. As they put the game away, Cooper brought the rest of the cookies and what was left of the lemonade from the kitchen and refilled all the glasses.

  “Good game,” she said. “I’m glad we got to spend some time together outside of Bible study . . . even if I did lose.”

  Nathan, busily packing up the playing pieces, took a break to drink the ice-cold lemonade. Then, he paused with a handful of hotels. “We should do stuff more often. Non-church stuff, I mean.”

  “I’m up for it,” Jake said, his arm lazily resting around Savannah’s shoulders. “Any ideas?”

  “Don’t forget about the French cooking class Tuesday after next,” Quinton said. A baker, he’d decided to branch out from his cooking specialty, an opportunity made possible by the community center’s many free classes. For weeks he’d been hassling the group about attending one of the classes together, and they’d finally settled on a date two Tuesdays away.

  Bryant waffled. “I don’t know, Quinton. French cooking isn’t really my thing . . .”

  “Too late to back out now, my friend! I’ve already reserved one of the big cooking islands for us. Besides, once you get started, you’ll love it!”

  “Really?”

  “Sure! You see, we all gather around these big islands with individual cooking stations in them. We watch the instructor make the dish. Then, we all give it a try ourselves. It’s fun!”

  “I don’t know,” Bryant repeated. His comment was cut short by a gentle elbow from Trish. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “What was that for?”

  “Quinton’s been really excited about this for weeks,” Trish replied. “Be nice. Go to the cooking class. Have fun.”

  “I’m not saying I won’t go. I’m just . . . skeptical.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Jake commented. “And no offense, Quinton, but when I said I was up for doing more things as a group, I was thinking something less . . . indoorsy and cooking-oriented. Not that I’m not looking forward to making something French, but . . . that’s not something I want to make a habit of doing.”

  Quinton laughed. He’d known the other men in the group weren’t excited about the cooking class, but he was glad they’d agreed to go anyway. Ever since they had, though, they’d given him a hard time about it every chance they got, and he’d teased right back.

  “Are you sure?” Quinton asked, grinning mischievously. “Because I’m sure I could get you into the class for this Tuesday, too. We’re making lobster bisque.”

  Trish went right along with it. “Sounds wonderful!” She took out her smartphone and opened the calendar. Her broad smile turned to a disappointed frown. “Aw, wouldn’t you know it, I can’t go this Tuesday. I’m watching my neighbor’s kids that night, but Jake, Bryant, if you two go, I’d love to try your lobster bisque.”

  “Ha ha,” Jake said blandly.

  “In all seriousness, I am looking forward to the class,” Trish said. “But if we’re looking for something sooner than that, we could get together this Friday. It’s opening night for that new romantic comedy that looks so good. You know, the one where the guy falls for the girl, and then he loses her, and then he has to get her back again.”

  Jake put his hands over his eyes and groaned. “You just described every romantic comedy ever made.” Savannah patted him in faux sympathy. Jake liked to play the hardened tough guy, but Cooper knew how he doted on Savannah. Flowers, chocolate, walks in the park. He knew exactly how to be romantic when it counted, but Cooper wasn’t about to call him on it. Not here, anyway. He’d be too embarrassed.

  “So I take it the romantic comedy is a no-go,” Cooper said with a laugh.

  “It’s not exactly outdoorsy,” Savannah commented.

  Nathan slid the game box to the end of the table and the cookie plate closer to himself. “I have it! Something we can do together. Outdoorsy. Soon. Everyone will love it.”

  “Do tell!”

  “It’s the perfect idea. What’s everyone doing Saturday?”

  Bryant arched a suspicious brow. As the channel six meteorologist, he’d honed his expressions for TV, so his current look was a perfectly refined mien of incredulity. “Depends on what you’re going to suggest.”

  Nathan laughed. “Nothing demeaning, I promise. There’s a bluegrass festival all day Saturday at the park on the other side of town. It’s not as big as the Arts in the Park festival, but it should be fun. Music, craft booths, local artists, and food trucks. Plus there’s hiking, swimming, bird watching . . . a little something for everyone.”

  Trish clapped her hands and smiled. Sometimes in her excitement she looked a lot like one of her young daughters. “We’ll make a day of it! Phil can watch the kids. He’d love that. He was just saying how he wanted some quality dad time, just him and the girls.”

  “And we should have great weather for a day outside,” Bryant said. “According to the dashing meteorologist on channel six, that is.”

  Jake slapped him on the back. “I don’t know that I’d call you dashing, but that’s just me. I wouldn’t mind going on a hike Saturday. It’s been a while since I had a close, personal encounter with the great outdoors.” He took Savannah’s hand absentmindedly.

  Savannah didn’t seem to mind at all. “Maybe we could have a little Bible study in the afternoon. We can learn about God in the midst of His creation. I’ll prepare something.”

  “And I’ll be in charge of the picnic,” Quinton added. He rubbed his hands together slowly, licking his lips. Cooper could almost see the visions of baked items dancing around behind his eyes. “Everyone, tell me what you want to bring, if you want to bring something, and I’ll fill in any gaps in the meal.”

  “We’ll need food that’ll taste good cold.” Savannah picked at dried paint on the back of her hand—evidence of her latest artistic endeavor. Her lack of sight did nothing to hinder her creative energy, instead inspiring beautiful, unique paintings. “What about quiche? That should work for a cold dish.”

  “And I’ll volunteer a side dish,” Trish added quickly. “I fou
nd a great recipe for Southern marinated heirloom tomatoes, and I’ve been looking for a chance to use it. This day at the park just keeps getting better!”

  Bryant laughed. “I’ll bring macaroni salad, but I can’t guarantee to get as excited about it as Trish is about her heirloom tomatoes.”

  “Not just heirloom tomatoes,” Trish corrected, “Southern marinated heirloom tomatoes.”

  “Well, if you’re all going to cook, I guess I ought to bring something,” Jake said, leaning his chair back so the front two legs came off the ground. He rocked that way, precariously, as he thought. “I won’t be cooking, though . . . Tell you what. I’ll pick up some rolls from the bakery first thing Saturday. They won’t be homemade, but they’ll be nice and fresh.”

  Quinton looked pleased with the way the picnic was shaping up. “Quiche, heirloom tomatoes, macaroni salad, rolls . . .” He spoke as if he were checking items off of a mental list. “I’ll bring an extra side dish, just in case, and I’ll make a cake for dessert. However, in my opinion, one dessert is never enough. Cooper, do you think your mama would mind providing a second sweet for us?”

  Cooper glanced at the almost empty cookie plate. Baking was more than a business for her mama. It was her joy, and even more than that, it was her way to be mama to the whole of Richmond, and Richmond could have no better mama. Maggie Lee loved to indulge the Bible study’s collective sweet tooth almost as much as the Bible study group loved to have its sweet tooth indulged. “I bet I could talk her into baking some cookies for us.”

  Nathan drummed his fingers on the white tablecloth. “Doesn’t leave much for me. Any requests?”

  “We still need drinks,” Quinton suggested.

  Nathan nodded approvingly. “Drinks it is. We’ll definitely need plenty of liquid if we’re going hiking.”

  Quinton beamed. “Looks like we’re set for the picnic! I’ll bring the cooler, plates and napkins and such. Where are we meeting?”