Fate of the Fallen

by Ellery Adams

  “We can sort,” Bryant said.

  Nathan looked at him quizzically.

  Bryant explained. “You said that you could sort through the pictures, but you’re not doing this alone. We will sort through the pictures.”

  Nathan smiled, broad and wholeheartedly—the kind of expression Cooper hadn’t seen since Christine’s arrest. “All right then. We’ll sort through the pictures. I’ll talk to the festival organizers again and get copies of the professional photos, too. There’s bound to be something there that’ll help.”

  • • •

  When Monday rolled around, Cooper found it odd to be at Make It Work! on the same morning when Christine was standing before a judge. She didn’t have much time to worry, though. Josh and Bobby had left messages on her machine apologizing profusely for their prolonged illnesses, and Cooper had been in the office no more than ten minutes when Ben came to her door wearing a grim expression.

  “Oh, no. What is it?” Cooper dropped her pen, waiting for the bad news.

  “It’s Brandi,” Ben replied. “She’s sick. Sounds like it’s the same thing Bobby and Josh have.”

  Cooper felt numb. “You’re kidding.”

  “I don’t suppose either of your guys are coming in today.”

  “Josh has an ear infection, and Bobby relapsed after another one of his kids got sick and gave it to him again.” She drew in a deep breath. The last moment of calm before what promised to be a storm of a day. “Looks like it’s just the three of us. You, me and Emilio . . . Emilio’s still healthy, right?”

  Ben nodded. “He’s fine. What do we do, boss?”

  That Ben was willing to put his faith in her gave Cooper a confidence boost. “I’d say if there was ever a need for an emergency staff meeting, this is it. Get Emilio. Meet me in the conference room.”

  Cooper printed the day’s repair and lease delivery/pickup schedules and went to the conference room, where Ben and Emilio were waiting.

  “Emilio,” Cooper began. “How you feeling? Sore throat? Fever?”

  “I’m feeling good,” Emilio replied, slicking back his smooth hair. “Ready to work.”

  “Glad to hear it, because there’s going to be a lot of work to do today.” She glanced at the clock. Christine was probably entering the courtroom right now, waiting her turn on the docket. Cooper continued. “We’re down by more than half our staff. It’s up to the three of us to handle the work of eight.”

  Ben leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head. The motion made his well-defined muscles flex. All those evenings at the gym had paid off. “How about this? We close up shop for a few days until at least two of the other employees are back.”

  “What do we tell our clients?”

  “The truth. We let them know that we have sickness in the office and that a staff of eight is down to a staff of three. Emilio can change the outgoing message to say the same thing. There’s no sense in keeping the doors open if we can’t do the work.”

  “So you don’t think the three of us can do the work.”

  He shrugged. “Do you?”

  Cooper hesitated. “I’m not sure we can do all the work . . . but I think we can get the most important work done. We figured out how to manage without Bobby. Then, without Bobby and Josh. We’ll just have to pare down to the essentials and work hard.”

  “You know, if you did decide to close up shop, nobody would think less of you for it. It’s not your fault everybody got sick. Mr. Farmer wouldn’t be upset.”

  “It isn’t Mr. Farmer I’m worried about upsetting. It’s our clients.”

  “My ankle’s better,” Emilio announced. “I can do deliveries and pickups if you two want to focus on repairs. And I can change the outgoing message, in case anyone calls.”

  “Good,” Cooper said. “And nobody should worry about paperwork. That can wait until we’ve got a few more employees, or, worst case, until Angela gets back.” She looked from Emilio to Ben. “We can do this. We can make it work.” She stopped and smiled. “Pun unintended.”

  • • •

  Cooper spent all that day on the road, moving from repair job to repair job. For Bobby and Josh, this was just the usual workload, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d repaired so many machines in a single day. Of course, there were two of them and only one of her.

  Somewhere between a brief stint downtown and lunch on the go, Cooper’s phone rang. It was Nathan.

  “I’ve been wondering what happened,” Cooper said, barely making a green light. “How did the arraignment go?”

  “About like McNamara said it would,” Nathan replied. “The prosecutor charged her with obstruction of justice and first-degree murder. She pled not guilty to both.”

  Although not unexpected, the news upset Cooper, distracting her from the road for just a moment. When she came to her senses, she found herself uncomfortably close to the SUV in front of her. She slammed on her brakes, stopping about six inches from its bumper. Cooper reminded herself that whatever Nathan told her, driving came first and conversation came second.

  Nathan continued as Cooper caught her breath. “McNamara was right. The prosecutor got his way. Christine has to stay in jail until her court date.”

  “So she has to go to county jail?”

  “Thankfully, no. The inspector called in a favor from the judge. He got special permission for Christine to stay at the station instead of going to county, as long as the station has space.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “Yeah. The only nice thing about the whole situation . . . I had to call my parents after the arraignment and tell them what’s going on.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They’re just as horrified as we are. They’re going to visit Christine later today.”

  “You said the prosecutor is charging her with obstruction of justice. What’s he claiming she did?”

  “That’s because she didn’t tell the police about her relationship with Sinclair. The prosecutor says—let’s see if I can remember it correctly—Christine ‘willingly kept vital information from the investigating officers in order to hide her involvement in the crime.’”

  “Is that a serious offense?”

  “According to Christine’s lawyer, if she’s found guilty, she’ll spend some time in prison . . . Of course, that won’t really matter if she’s found guilty of murder.”

  Cooper’s heart broke to hear him sound so dejected. “Don’t think that way.”

  “It’s hard not to.”

  Pulling off the road so she could focus on the conversation, Cooper parked behind a warehouse, out of the way of other cars. “How’s your photo search coming along? Have you had a chance to post picture requests online?”

  “I did that last night, as soon as I got home from the station. And first thing this morning I called the festival organizers and explained the situation. They’re sending all the professional photos from that time of day.”

  “That’s nice of them.”

  “Apparently having someone murdered at your event isn’t great PR. They want to figure out who’s guilty and lock them up almost as badly as we do.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “And I’ve already gotten some responses to the social media posts. Ten people have uploaded photos so far.”

  “Are any of them useful?”

  “I’m having them printed off as eight-by-tens with the time stamp, so we can all search through them, but I haven’t noticed Christine in any of them yet . . . I’m probably keeping you from work.”

  “No,” Cooper lied. She immediately felt guilty about it. She clarified. “I pulled over so we could talk.”

  “Are your repairmen still out?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Plus one of Ben’s employees. But I can talk if you . . .”

  “Go do what you need to do. I’ll be okay. I did have something I wanted to ask, though, before you go. I’ve been wondering if it might be useful for us to go to the park
and do a kind of walk-through of what happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If we take the alibis we know and sort of . . . act it out. Maybe we can nail down a little better what happened.” He sighed. “It’s a stupid idea.”

  “Not at all,” Cooper said. Going to the park might not tell them anything, but it would make Nathan feel useful, and that in itself was worth a lot. “Why don’t you call the Bible study members and we can get together later this week.” That should keep his mind busy for at least a few minutes. “One more thing. It doesn’t seem very important with everything else going on. You don’t have to think about it right now, but I wanted to mention it. Jake and Savannah want to know if we’re interested in a double date this Friday.”

  “That seems like a long ways away right now.”

  “I understand. We can talk about it later.”

  On that note, Cooper pulled back onto the road and continued to her next job, thinking the whole while about Christine’s situation. If Ashley were ever arrested for something as heinous as murder—or even for something as frivolous as jaywalking—Cooper would be out of her mind trying to fix it. She could only imagine Nathan’s anxiety, his fear. He was as much of a “fixer” as she was, always on the lookout for some broken thing in need of repair. But he couldn’t repair this situation.

  Neither could she.

  • • •

  The week continued in the same busy fashion in which it had begun. Monday afternoon was spent on the road, traveling from office to office repairing broken machines, while her evening at home was filled with the paperwork she’d told the others to ignore.

  On Tuesday, Bobby came into the office, determined to do his share of the work, only to throw up after changing into his uniform. Cooper sent him home, hoping he hadn’t exposed the whole office. Josh’s ear infection had only gotten worse, landing him in the ER, where he received strict instructions to take it easy for a few more days.

  Ben divided his time between repairs and leasing, helping Emilio determine the lease jobs of highest priority in between drives to client offices. Emilio delivered machines and kept tabs on the office phones, calling clients to inform them of the situation at Make It Work! and to apologize for any inconvenience. When he told several of the lease customers they’d be allowed to keep their machines a few more days at no additional cost, they didn’t seem to mind at all.

  When Wednesday rolled around, Nathan texted to say the Bible study group was meeting at the park that night. So after a very long and exhausting ten-hour day at work, Cooper dragged herself to her truck and drove out to the park.

  The sun was setting as Cooper pulled in beside Nathan’s car. The group stood in the dirt lot, waiting for her. Jake and Bryant both shined powerful flashlights over Nathan’s shoulder while he bent over the hood of his car, studying something. Savannah spoke with Trish, who was still dressed in her business pant suit.

  Cooper took a few deep breaths in an effort to wake up and then joined them. “What did I miss?”

  “We’re still waiting for Quinton,” Nathan replied, after greeting her with a kiss. “I put together a little plan, based on what Christine, her lawyer, and McNamara told me.” He handed her what he’d been looking at—a yellow legal pad with a crude drawing of the park and little notes all over it.

  “What’s all this?”

  “What Christine saw, where people claimed they were, stuff like that. Her lawyer gave me his extra legal pad.”

  Cooper couldn’t make out any of the writing. “How is Christine doing?”

  “Okay . . . given the circumstances. She’s still at the station, thanks to McNamara. When I went to see her yesterday afternoon, the whole Sphinx crowd was there visiting.”

  “That was sweet of them. What did they say about her . . . circumstances?”

  He shrugged. “They mostly avoided the topic. They asked how she was, but nobody mentioned Sinclair, or jail, or anything like that. In fact, they went out of their way to find other things to talk about.”

  “Such as?”

  “They told her how well the printers were working—which should make you very happy—and she told them about you guys finding Danny in the restaurant parking lot. I told her about it the other day when I talked to her. The closest anyone came to actually mentioning the situation was when Kenneth assured her that her job was safe and would be waiting for her when she got out.”

  Quinton pulled in on the other side of Nathan’s truck and stepped out of his car, bakery box in hand. “I brought pastries!” he announced. “They’re store bought, I’m afraid, but I figured a little food would be just the thing to get us off to a good start. Who needs a snack?”

  Everyone gathered around. Cooper wound up with a powdered-sugar-dusted beignet—not the healthiest of suppers, but preferable to nothing. Nathan wolfed down his bear claw, and as the others ate, he held up the yellow legal pad in the fading light.

  “This is what we’re going to look at tonight,” he said. “We’re going to figure out where everyone was when Sinclair died, along with their proximity to the crime scene. We also need to compare the alibis they gave Inspector McNamara with the alibis they gave us.”

  “How did you get the alibis they gave McNamara?” Trish asked.

  “Christine’s lawyer provided them. We’ll use that information to walk through the whole evening and visualize everything. We need to see if any details are missing or don’t fit quite right. If you have an idea about what to look for, give a shout. Any questions?”

  His question was answered with a collective head shake. Cooper went to her truck to retrieve her flashlight from the glove compartment. It was nice to see Nathan taking charge and sounding so confident. He had a task to complete, and it seemed to take his mind off of feeling helpless.

  Flashlight protruding from her pocket, Cooper took Nathan’s hand as he led the group to the first stop on his map. They walked from the parking lot, past the now-empty area where the food trucks had been, across the lawn that had been teeming with festivalgoers and toward a spot beside the path leading off to the lake.

  In the still of twilight, an eerie hush settled over the park, interrupted only by the occasional hooting of an owl and the rattling of the ash trees in the breeze. Under different circumstances, this could have been a beautiful, relaxing evening, but images of that night prevented any kind of serenity. The red glow of the setting sun only reminded Cooper of the bloodshed. The flowers just off the path brought to mind the picture of Sinclair shrouded by wild bleeding heart.

  Cooper treaded softly across the grass, the anxiety rising inside her. She held Nathan’s hand more tightly. Of course, the killer wasn’t there at this moment, but the consequences of his presence lingered. She could feel the darkness closing in around her. She shuddered.

  Nathan let go of her hand and turned to face the group. Jake and Bryant turned on their flashlights, and Cooper was glad to see so much light spilling from them. She pulled her own flashlight from her pocket and switched it on. The anxiety began to subside.

  “So where are we?” Jake asked. “I mean, I know where we are, but what’s the significance on that map of yours?”

  “This is the last place where the entire Sphinx group was together,” Nathan explained. “At four p.m., Sinclair called the group together near this very spot, and he told them they had free time until six, when they’d meet at the food trucks to have supper together.”

  “Where did they all go from here?” Trish asked.

  Nathan consulted his legal pad. “Nala looked around the craft booths. Christine did, too. Kenneth spent most of his time on a conference call. Dave told the police he went for a walk to blow off some steam. Mandy went to check out the amphitheater.”

  “And where did Sinclair go?” Bryant asked.

  “He headed up the path to the lake. For almost two hours the six of them wandered around, everyone on their own.”

  “They must have crossed paths,” Quinton said. “Did any
of them see each other?”

  “They did.” Nathan turned the page of his notepad and read his notes. “According to the attorney, Christine saw Nala at the craft booths, before Nala went for her walk. Mandy says she saw Kenneth pacing and messing with his phone. Dave saw Christine wandering through the food trucks sometime before they were supposed to meet. And at some point, Kenneth saw Dave walking around.”

  “Sounds like they could almost be each other’s alibis,” Savannah commented. “Provided they all saw each other later, too, and not just at the start.”

  “That’s the problem,” Nathan said. “They saw each other, but none of them can remember the actual time. What we do know for sure is where they started and where they ended up.”

  “The more we know about the day, the better,” Jake commented.

  Savannah leaned against him. “There’s something odd about where everyone was, don’t you think?”

  “Not really,” Cooper replied.

  “Didn’t you hear it?”

  Cooper shook her head. “It sounded fine to me.”

  Savannah smiled. “That’s because you weren’t really listening. One person wasn’t mentioned at all. No one saw him.”

  There was a moment of silence as everyone thought. Trish finally said, “Sinclair.”

  Savannah nodded. “No one saw Sinclair. Why is that?”

  Bryant raised his hand, as if in a classroom. “Wasn’t the original theory that Sinclair committed suicide? If he did, he probably spent a lot of time alone, thinking.”

  “That’s true,” Nathan agreed. “He might have wandered off into the woods and stayed there until he killed himself.”

  “That could explain it,” Savannah said. “But I think we should keep looking.”

  “Agreed,” Nathan said. “Let’s head to where Sinclair died.”