Fate of the Fallen

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Fate of the Fallen Page 27

by Ellery Adams


  Cooper smiled and gave Angela a hug. “He is, and so are you. I’m so excited for you, Angela!”

  “Me, too!” Angela sat back in her chair and wiped her eyes. “I can’t help but cry when I talk about it. Tears of joy, mind you. I’m just so happy!”

  Cooper watched her friend cry big, mascara-stained tears that ran down her cheeks in long black streaks, and she thought of Nathan. In that moment, seeing Angela so ecstatic, she was more certain than ever of how much she loved him and wanted to be with him—whether in Richmond or Los Angeles or Timbuktu. However, being with her friend also reinforced the fact that she wasn’t yet ready to leave behind everything she knew.

  And as Cooper sat with Angela, smiling and laughing, admiring the rings and giggling like schoolgirls over Mr. Farmer’s sentimentality, the seed of an idea took root in her mind. There might be a solution to her problem, a solution that would give her the best of both worlds.

  Angela gazed at her rings, moving her hand so the diamond caught the light and sparkled. She sighed contentedly. “I told you Atlantic City would be one heck of a time!”

  • • •

  Cooper placed a Beatles CD into the disc changer of Nathan’s expensive sound system and pressed play. A moment later, his home was filled with the sounds of Abbey Road, an album that so perfectly complemented the vibrancy of celebration. Noisy laughter and conversation pervaded the rooms. The air smelled of chips and dips and decaf coffee. The Sunrise Bible Study Group, along with the Sphinx crowd, were gathering together to enjoy a well-deserved evening of revelry following a very difficult ordeal.

  Mandy and Kenneth hadn’t arrived yet and Dave wouldn’t be joining the party, but those present shared stories and jokes in little groups scattered through the kitchen and living room. In by the TV, Nala told Trish and Christine about life with Dave, before his paranoia set in. Jake and Savannah sat together, talking quietly and smiling.

  The doorbell rang, and Nathan answered. A moment later, he returned to the party followed by Kenneth and Mandy, both of whom wore a very grim expression.

  All the chatter died down as, one by one, everyone saw the looks on their faces.

  “You two don’t look like you’re ready to party,” Christine commented. “Something the matter?”

  Mandy turned to Kenneth. “I’ll let you do the explaining.”

  Kenneth looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Christine, and then on Cooper. “We had an interesting afternoon.”

  Christine approached him. “Last I saw, you guys were cleaning out Sinclair’s office. Did something happen?”

  “You could say that. We were clearing out all of Sinclair’s things, and when we opened his safe, we found . . .” His voice cracked, and he paused. “We found cash. Stacks of it.”

  His revelation was met with silence, and he continued. “We called Inspector McNamara, and he did some looking around. As it turns out, the amount of cash in the safe was the same amount as was most recently missing from the Sphinx accounts.”

  Christine blanched. “You don’t think Sinclair was stealing from his own company!”

  “I don’t,” Kenneth replied quickly, pain in his face. “But it doesn’t seem to matter what I think.”

  “That’s not all of it,” Mandy added. “There was also a list in the safe—a list of all the different cash amounts that’ve gone missing from the company. Looks like he was keeping close track of what he took.”

  “I still don’t believe he took it.”

  Mandy put her hand gently on Kenneth’s shoulder. “I know you don’t. But we can’t ignore the facts, and the police are convinced.”

  “Of what exactly?” Cooper asked. “That he embezzled?”

  Mandy nodded. “That he embezzled and that he killed himself, either because he felt guilty or because he thought he was going to be caught. McNamara said the case was all but closed.”

  “What about the other people at the festival?” Jake asked. “Did the police find any other leads worth pursuing?

  “Apparently not,” Kenneth answered. “He didn’t say, but when I pressed him, he did try to explain away the other evidence at the crime scene.”

  Nathan waved him in toward the couch. “What did he say?” he asked, sitting beside him.

  Kenneth rubbed his hands over his face. “He told me that he’d been looking into footprints at the scene, but those footprints were probably there since earlier in the day. He said with a couple hundred people tramping through the woods, it’s not really surprising there were footprints where Sinclair died.”

  Trish hesitated. “That might be right. A lot of people were walking around and leaving footprints.”

  “Then he said that the cut on Sinclair’s hand—which he thought might have been caused by a blade—was probably caused by the edge of one of the metal picnic tables at the park.”

  “I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” Christine said. “But he could have cut his hand on the table. The footprints might have been from earlier in the day. Sinclair might have stolen the money, and . . .”

  “And killed himself?” Kenneth shook his head. “Not Sinclair.”

  Nala took a deep breath and let it out in a thoughtful sigh. “For what it’s worth, I agree with you, Kenneth. Sinclair wasn’t the type to kill himself.”

  “I’m not sure there is a type,” Savannah said. “Sometimes people in bad situations lose hope. All different kinds of people.”

  “That’s true,” Bryant agreed. “Really horrible, but true.”

  Kenneth stood, shaking his head and his hands. “I’m really sorry, everybody. We have all day tomorrow to think about this. Tonight is supposed to be a celebration for Christine, and I’ve brought the mood down.”

  “I don’t think I’d put it quite like that,” Christine replied. “We wanted to hear what happened today, and if you need to talk about it, you can.”

  “I will. But not right now. We need to just enjoy the party. Christine, I’m glad you’re out of jail. I may not believe Sinclair killed himself, but I never could picture you as a killer, either.”

  Christine smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  The evening wore on, and eventually, Kenneth’s mood lightened. The Bible study group did their best to keep his mind off of Sinclair by asking him questions and sharing their own stories. Eventually, he ended up in the living room with Bryant, explaining his plans for the company, now that he was in charge.

  Nala, Trish, and Christine had settled back into their little group by the TV. They talked and laughed, as if the three of them had been good friends for years. Quinton stood by the snacks, his eyes taking in all the options, and his sausage fingers selecting a few for his plate.

  The doorbell rang, and Jake went to answer it. He returned with another familiar face. Danny trailed behind him, looking a bit uncomfortable. That discomfort, however, quickly gave way to a smile, as Jake took him over to Savannah and engaged him in friendly conversation.

  Nathan stood by Cooper, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

  “I didn’t know Danny was coming tonight,” Cooper said quietly.

  “I invited him,” Nathan replied. “I thought it would be good for him to know he’s not all alone. I didn’t figure Christine would mind him coming to her party.”

  “That was very sweet of you.”

  “Just seemed like the right thing. He needs to know he’s got people he can count on.” He gave Cooper a squeeze. “Would you mind if I go and talk to him? I know Jake and Savannah will take care of him, but I want to make sure he knows he’s welcome in my home.”

  Cooper nodded her assent, and Nathan crossed over to Danny, greeting him with a firm handshake. Then, Cooper slowly made her way around the room, enjoying the levity of the celebration. However, as she tuned in to the conversation between Kenneth and Bryant, she realized that not everyone was able to celebrate.

  “I still don’t believe it,” Kenneth said. “I don’t believe he killed himself, and I won�
�t believe it, no matter what the police say. All they have to go on is money in the safe, and who would keep money at the company they’d stolen it from? Besides, he’s the one who told me about the irregularities in the ledger. The cop’s problem is that he thinks everyone has an alibi or not enough motive, so he’s calling Sinclair his own killer. There’s just something fishy about the case.”

  His voice was so full of conviction that, for just a moment, it made Cooper wonder. Could McNamara be wrong? He’d all but closed the homicide investigation, because suicide seemed the obvious choice.

  But what if there were other facts he needed to take into consideration? Like the fact that Sinclair’s best friend in the world insisted he wasn’t suicidal.

  Cooper could tell he just needed to talk to someone about it, despite his earlier declaration that they ought to simply enjoy the party. She excused herself quietly as she stepped into the conversation.

  “Something you need?” Kenneth asked, pausing in his tirade about McNamara.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear what you said,” Cooper said. “You mentioned you thought there was something fishy about the case.”

  “There is.”

  “I’m curious to hear what you think is . . . well . . . fishy about it.”

  With a dubiously furrowed brow, Kenneth replied, “Really?”

  Cooper nodded. “I agree with you that certain assumptions were made by the police in order to wrap things up. What do you think the inspector missed?”

  “For starters, don’t you find it strange that an intelligent guy like Sinclair kept incriminating evidence in his safe at work?”

  Bryant shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how intelligent you are. If you’re breaking the law, you’re bound to slip up at some point. Besides, maybe he realized it wouldn’t make a difference anymore. If he killed himself . . .”

  “Sinclair wouldn’t have done that,” Kenneth insisted.

  Cooper put a hand on Kenneth’s arm to calm him. “You said it yourself. Everyone has an alibi or no motive.”

  “Maybe the alibis are wrong.”

  “I don’t see how,” Cooper said. “Unless the time of death is wrong, how can the alibis be wrong?” She paused. A chill crept up her back. “Wait a sec. What if the time of death is wrong?”

  “How can that be?” Bryant asked.

  Nathan sauntered over to join them. “You all seem deep in conversation.”

  “We’re talking about Sinclair,” Cooper said. “You see, the police based time of death on Sinclair’s broken watch, but a watch can be wound to a different time. Wouldn’t a smart killer think to change the time on the watch?”

  Bryant drummed his fingertips against each other. “Interesting theory. Is there any way to test it? Can we double-check the time of death?”

  “What about his Fitbit?” Nathan asked.

  All eyes turned to him.

  Bryant looked skeptical. “Unless we’re trying to gauge his steps for the day, how would that tell us anything?”

  “It tracks heart rate,” Nathan replied. “If you can access his online account, it’ll tell you when his heart stopped beating the day at the park.”

  Kenneth glanced around and leaned in close. “Do you have a computer?”

  The four of them—Bryant, Nathan, Cooper, and Kenneth—gathered around Nathan’s work computer in his office. Kenneth sat and began to type.

  “Sinclair had me keep track of everybody’s Fitbit progress,” Kenneth explained. “Like I said the day you all first came to Sphinx . . . it was for the Fitness Challenge. I have full access to Sinclair’s account.”

  While the others watched, Kenneth navigated to Sinclair’s Fitbit account and typed in the password. He clicked on an icon, and a moment later a graph appeared on the screen. He pointed to one spot. “There it is,” he said. “That’s when his heart stopped.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Bryant muttered. “That’s an hour before his watch stopped.”

  For a full minute, they all stared at the screen in silence . . . until Cooper remembered the grim scene of discovering Sinclair’s body. She could see his Rolex, his silver bracelet, and his matching silver pin . . . but there was no Fitbit on his wrist.

  “Guys, he wasn’t wearing it,” she said.

  “I doubt that very much,” Kenneth argued. “He loved that thing.”

  “I saw his body. He wasn’t wearing it. I remember. I wish I didn’t, but I do. Nathan, this was a great idea, but he must have lost the Fitbit on the hike or something. He wasn’t wearing it when Christine found him.”

  Dejected, they rejoined the party to find that the cliques had changed. Jake was standing in the kitchen, fixing himself coffee, and Bryant was on his way to join him. Christine, Nala, and Trish had welcomed Savannah into their circle. Danny stood with Mandy, as Quinton entertained them both with stories from his cooking class.

  He had his listeners doubled over in laughter. Still troubled by thoughts of Sinclair, Cooper didn’t hear the story itself, but Mandy’s loud reaction to it distracted her for a moment. Danny chuckled, his response not nearly as animated as Mandy’s.

  Cooper made the rounds, moving from group to group for an hour or so, enjoying the company despite the doubts she still had about Sinclair’s death. Finally she spotted Nathan standing off by himself near the kitchen table where the snacks were, his gaze moving from one group to the next. He had such a look of peace on his face, such joy. It made Cooper smile.

  “Nice party,” she said, joining him at the table. “It’s good to see you looking happy again.”

  Nathan slipped his arm around her waist. “How could I be anything but happy? I’ve got wonderful friends, a loving family, and the best fiancée in the world.” He kissed her on the head. “It’s a day to celebrate. I wish we could have helped Kenneth more, but you know what? It’s still a day to celebrate.”

  Offering Cooper his arm, Nathan smiled and said, “What do you say we join the celebration?”

  She linked her elbow through his. “Why, Mr. Dexter, I thought you’d never ask!”

  Arm in arm they ambled from the dining table to the group by the island, just in time to hear the end of another one of Quinton’s cooking class tales, a story that had Mandy laughing so hard she was nearly crying. Danny was actually laughing out loud. Kenneth had joined the group and was chuckling, despite his obvious lingering distress over Sinclair’s alleged suicide. Cooper wondered just how many of these stories Quinton had up his sleeve.

  “You look like you’re enjoying yourselves,” Quinton said.

  Nathan moved his arm around Cooper’s shoulders. “We are. And later I plan to enjoy those desserts you brought. I appreciate it. More than that, I appreciate you coming.” He turned to the others in the little group. “All of you, thanks. I’m glad you could make it.”

  Mandy flashed a smile. “Thank you for hosting such a lovely party! It hasn’t been easy since Sinclair died. Around the office, it’s been . . . different. Unpleasant, to say the least. Then you and your friends came along, and you kept a bad situation from turning into an absolutely dreadful one.”

  “I’m not sure we did much,” Quinton replied.

  “But you did! You helped Christine when she was arrested. You took a real interest in Sphinx and the people working there. I think I speak for the whole office when I say we were a little worried the investigation might turn into a witch hunt, and we’d each have a turn behind bars. Now that we know Sinclair committed suicide, we can finally put all those fears to rest.”

  Kenneth bristled at the word suicide.

  “I’m just glad we could be there for them,” Cooper said.

  Danny smiled. “You guys are good at that, aren’t you?”

  “Good at what?”

  “Good at being there for people. A lot of folks don’t have friends or family to help them out. And most other folks don’t care. But you . . . you’re different.”

  “In the best possible way,” Mandy added. “Danny, I’m so glad yo
u came to join us today. Ever since we went to the station and Christine told us about your situation, we’ve all been thinking about you.”

  “Say, Danny, did you hear from McNamara how the investigation is going?” Quinton asked. “Did they ever track down the guy who hit you with his car? Or the one who attacked you later?”

  Danny shook his head. “McNamara said they don’t have any leads, and I don’t expect they will. I just need to count myself lucky I made it through in one piece. Can’t ask for more than that.” He turned to Cooper. “You’re probably missing your camera.”

  Cooper laughed. “The camera’s not all that important in the big scheme of things, although I do wish I could see some of the pictures from the park. I think some of those might have turned out pretty good.”

  “That reminds me . . .” Quinton dug his hand into his back pocket and produced his cell, navigating to his photos before handing it to Cooper. “I was going through my phone, deleting things to free up space, and I came across something that might interest you.”

  He handed the phone to Cooper, and she looked at the screen. It was a picture from the festival. She and Nathan stood in front of the footbridge on the hiking trail, with the Sphinx crowd approaching in the background.

  “That’s not a bad picture!” she exclaimed. “You took this with your phone?”

  “Yep. I feel pretty spoiled these days, with a fancy smartphone and all. It takes pictures better than my camera does. Anyway, I forgot I took that photo at the park. I thought you might like to see it.”

  “I’d like to have it, if you don’t mind.”

  Quinton took the phone back. “I’ll send it to you right now.”

  A moment later, her cell phone buzzed as the picture message arrived in her in-box. She took her phone from her pocket. “I think I’ll go show this to Trish, if you’ll excuse me.”

 

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