Fate of the Fallen

by Ellery Adams

  Standing on her tiptoes, Cooper gave Nathan a kiss on the cheek before heading over to where Christine, Nala, and Trish were busy chatting, while Savannah went for coffee. So enthralled were they in their conversation that they didn’t even notice her joining their little circle. Cooper stood for nearly a minute on the outskirts of the group, waiting to be noticed.

  Finally she asked, “Are you all sharing secrets?”

  Trish jumped. “Cooper! I didn’t see you there. We were just talking about our first apartments.”

  “I’m about to be on my own for the first time,” Nala explained. “Back before Dave and I got married, I lived with roommates. Before that, I was in a college dorm. Before that, I lived with my parents. I’ve never actually lived by myself. Trish and Christine were just telling me their fond memories of the bachelorette life.”

  “Hers are memories,” Christine said, jerking her thumb toward Trish. “Mine are current.”

  Nala laughed. “How about you, Cooper? Any fun and interesting tales to tell?”

  “I’m not sure . . .” Cooper thought for a moment. She currently lived in the apartment over her parents’ garage, and before that she’d lived with a boyfriend for five years. Once upon a time she had a little one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment of her own, but it felt like forever ago. In truth, she didn’t miss the bachelorette life, as Nala called it. Cooper preferred to be near family, to know a friend was just down the stairs, to eat alongside loved ones, rather than alone. That probably wasn’t what Nala needed to hear now, though. Finally she answered, “I haven’t lived on my own in a long time, but if I remember any fun anecdotes, I’ll be sure and let you know.”

  Christine laughed and stepped away to set down her glass. As she returned to the group, she looked down at the band on her wrist. “My Fitbit just buzzed to tell me I hit my ten-thousand-step goal for the day. That means I won’t feel so bad when I have a big slice of that cake.”

  Nala eyed her Fitbit. “I wish I’d taken advantage when Sinclair offered to buy those for everyone. At the time, it was too difficult to think about exercise with everything else that was going on. Now I think I might like to get fit.”

  “Sinclair swore by his Fitbit, and I’ve had good luck with mine. Just wearing it reminds me to jog every morning . . . almost every morning. I couldn’t jog while I was in jail.”

  “Nathan seems to like his Fitbit too,” Cooper added. “Although I think I’d invest in some other device if it were me.”

  “Why?”

  “Sinclair may have loved his Fitbit, but apparently it fell off on that hike. It wasn’t on him when he . . . Well, it fell off somewhere. I’d want my device on a necklace maybe, or something else that would stay on a little better.”

  Christine stared at the black band on her wrist. “You don’t suppose that pushed him over the edge, do you? Sinclair, that is. You don’t suppose that losing his beloved Fitbit was the last straw.”

  Kenneth stepped over, having had his fill of humorous stories. “This sounds like an unpleasant topic. I thought I was the only one allowed to bring those up.”

  “We were talking about Fitbits,” Cooper said. “And how much Sinclair liked his.”

  “That he did.”

  “I was just saying I’d prefer something that didn’t fall off so easily.”

  “I haven’t had any trouble with mine falling off,” Christine said. “Apparently Sinclair did. He lost it at the park.”

  Kenneth eyed Cooper. “So I heard. It’s hard to believe, though. I’d have thought Sinclair would’ve noticed immediately if it fell off.”

  “I’m not sure I’d notice mine was missing,” Christine replied. “Not if I was busy doing other things. The band’s so lightweight . . .”

  “Your band is lightweight. Sinclair’s wasn’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’d just upgraded the band,” Kenneth explained. “He was tired of wearing that thick black plastic thing. The new band was custom-made. It was silver to match his Rolex, and had a cover over the Fitbit face, so it just looked like fine fancy jewelry.”

  “I never understood why he had the Fitbit and the watch,” Nala said. “The Fitbit tells time.”

  “If you can afford a Rolex, you wear a Rolex. Anyway, Sinclair had the new Fitbit band made, because he said that if he was going to wear that thing everywhere, he wanted it to look nice.”

  Nice jewelry? That sounded familiar. Cooper produced her phone and opened the picture Quinton had just sent her. She zoomed in on Sinclair in the background and studied the image—Sphinx shirt, gold pin, the Rolex on one wrist, and, on the other, what appeared to be a heavy silver bracelet. “Is this it?” She handed the phone to Kenneth.

  After a quick look, he nodded. “Like I said, it’s a fine piece of jewelry. Cost him a couple hundred dollars, too. Too bad he lost it.”

  Cooper stared at the picture and then closed her eyes, allowing herself to relive the moment Christine led her and Nathan to Sinclair’s body. Vividly she could see it all . . . including the blood-spattered silver band. Sinclair had been wearing his Fitbit the whole time.

  She jumped as a heavy hand was laid on her shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Nathan said, smiling. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He took one look at her expression and his smile disappeared. “What happened?”

  “Sinclair didn’t lose his Fitbit.” Cooper handed him the phone with the photo still open. “He was wearing it when Christine found him.” She pointed to the silver bracelet.

  Nathan squinted and studied the picture. “You mean the Fitbit was on him when he died?”

  Cooper nodded as the rest of the partygoers slowly closed in around them. Everyone could sense that something big was happening, something exciting. Only Danny hung back, obviously feeling a bit like an outsider.

  “If that’s true, the time of death is wrong,” Nathan said. “Sinclair actually died when the Fitbit shows his heartbeat stopping . . . Almost an hour before the original time of death.”

  “What’s this?” Jake asked. “Is there news?”

  “I don’t have any idea,” Nala replied. “It sounds like gibberish to me.”

  Christine stepped away from the group. “Don’t say anything too exciting while I’m gone!” And then she hurried off toward the restroom. When she was gone, Mandy grimaced. “Actually, I was just headed that way. Nathan, do you have another restroom?”

  “Up by the master bedroom,” Nathan replied, pointing toward the stairs. “Hopefully it’s clean enough.”

  Mandy laughed. “As long as it’s functioning!”

  In the meantime, Cooper quickly explained the time of death theory to Nala, who listened, fascinated.

  When Cooper was done, Nala asked, “So when did he actually die?”

  Cooper turned to Kenneth. “His watch said five fifty-five. What time did the Fitbit say his heart stopped beating?”

  “I think it was four twenty,” Kenneth replied. “Actually, I’m sure it was four twenty.”

  “It doesn’t really matter, though, does it?” Quinton took a bite of one of his madeleines. When he’d swallowed, he continued. “It was suicide. The time of death doesn’t change that.”

  Nathan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “But time of death is part of the reason McNamara arrived at his conclusion. Everyone had an alibi at five fifty-five. Since everyone had an alibi, and Sinclair was killed with his own gun, McNamara ruled it a suicide, even though that wasn’t his initial gut reaction.”

  “Not all of us,” Nala countered. “Although I appreciate you lumping me in with that group.”

  “True, you don’t have a good alibi, but you also have no motive. If anything, Sinclair was a real encourager to you, and you had no reason to want him dead.”

  Cooper jumped in. “But if Sinclair died at four twenty instead of five fifty-five, all those alibis are out the window.”

  “Let’s be reasonable about this,” Savannah said. “We don’t want to jump to any conclusions
. Do we know everyone’s alibis around four twenty?”

  “I’ll give you mine,” Christine said, rejoining the group. “I was looking through the craft booths.”

  “You answered that very quickly, for having missed a lot of the conversation,” Kenneth commented suspiciously. “A little too quickly.”

  “I remember because I looked at my watch right after a lengthy conversation with a leather worker . . . He was rather good-looking, and he mentioned something about getting coffee after the festival.”

  Nathan crossed his arms over his chest. “You met a stranger for coffee?”

  “Actually, if you recall, I spent most of the night at the police station.”

  “It isn’t safe to go out to places with men you don’t know.”

  “Apparently it isn’t safe to go to the park with people you do know.”

  Trish held up her hands to quiet them. “As endearing as this brother-sister thing is, maybe you could do it later. Back to the alibis.”

  “I was at the craft booths, too,” Nala said. “Although I don’t have a good story for it. I guess I don’t have any proof.”

  “Yes, you do,” Christine countered. “I saw you there. We waved at each other. Remember?”

  Nala snapped her fingers. “That’s right! You saw me!” Then she turned a wary eye on Kenneth. “Boss, where were you?”

  A slight blush came to Kenneth’s cheeks, and he nervously cleared his throat. “I . . . uh . . .”

  All eyes turned to him.

  “Something you don’t want to tell us?” Jake asked. “Because that’s mighty suspicious at this point.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Kenneth snapped back. “I . . . I’m lactose intolerant, and . . . well . . . I accidentally had some cheese at lunch. It was on my sandwich, and by the time I realized, it was too late. Shortly after Sinclair released us to go do our own thing—before I made phone calls—I made a beeline for the restrooms.”

  “How long were you there?” Christine asked. “Not to be nosy, but . . .”

  “A good half hour, at least.” His flush deepened, eliciting a great deal of sympathy from Cooper. When she got embarrassed or upset, the mean red crept up her neck and to her face for all the world to see. She hated being unable to hide her embarrassment. Unfortunately, in this case, there was no way around it. They had to know the details of Kenneth’s alibi. She glanced down at the picture on her phone. It was still bugging her. Something about it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t figure out what.

  “Sorry to get so personal, but did anyone see you go in or come out?” Savannah asked, continuing the interrogation of poor Kenneth. “Can anyone corroborate your alibi?”

  “If someone was clocking my time in the restroom, I didn’t notice them,” Kenneth replied testily. “Unless there were some security cameras at the porta-potties, which I doubt, I don’t think anyone can confirm my story. But I didn’t kill Sinclair.”

  “No one’s saying you did,” Cooper assured him. “We’re just making sure we’re all on the same page. Does anyone know where Mandy was?”

  Kenneth looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the stairs. “I can tell you. I’m pretty sure she went to check out the amphitheater when we went our separate ways. You can double-check with her when she gets back.”

  “And what about Dave?” Nathan asked. “Where was he?”

  “The best for last,” Bryant quipped. “My money’s on him.”

  Nala shook her head. “I saw Dave while I was looking through the booths. Although, now that I think about it, I’m not sure what the exact time was. When I saw him, he was pacing over by the trees, the ones near the parking lot. I remember, because he kicked one—hard—and then he started jumping up and down, holding on to his hurt foot.” She giggled, and then put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t be funny.”

  Quinton grinned. “But it kind of is. Say, I bet that’s when he actually went to the first aid tent. He told us he’d gone there earlier in the day. It was probably to take care of his foot.”

  “It wasn’t that,” Christine replied. “He went earlier because he accidentally stabbed himself with his Sphinx pin.”

  Nathan gave her a look. “Why would he stab himself?”

  “It wasn’t intentional,” she shot back. “The pins were cheap, and they kept falling off. He got frustrated with his, and when he put it on his shirt, he stabbed it into his shoulder. It started bleeding.”

  Nathan’s brow furrowed doubtfully. “I don’t remember seeing any blood on him.”

  “I had a spare shirt in my car,” Kenneth said. “After he got some antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid from the first aid tent, he changed out of the bloody shirt. Sinclair made him put the pin back on, though.”

  The lightbulb turned on in Cooper’s mind, and suddenly she realized what had been bothering her. She zoomed in on the picture one more time. “That’s it!”

  Nathan looked over her shoulder. “That’s what?”

  “Something has been bugging me about this photo. I just figured it out. It’s the pin.” She pointed to the pin on Sinclair’s shirt. “He was wearing a gold pin.”

  Nathan shrugged. “So?”

  “When we saw his body off the path, he was wearing a silver pin. Don’t you remember?”

  “I try not to.”

  “I’m sure it was silver.”

  “You know, I think you’re right,” Christine said. “He was wearing a silver pin when we found him.”

  “What does that mean?” Nala asked.

  “It means that someone switched their pin with Sinclair’s. At the beginning of all this, McNamara theorized there was a struggle. If that’s true, then both Sinclair’s pin and the attacker’s might have fallen off. The killer shot Sinclair, and then replaced the pins.”

  “But it was dark,” Trish said, continuing the line of thought. “The killer couldn’t see which pin was which. He put the wrong pin on Sinclair.”

  Jake nodded along. “I get it. So if we can figure out who was wearing a silver pin before Sinclair’s death, we might be able to figure out who attacked him.”

  They all crowded around Cooper’s phone as she adjusted the picture so the different pins were visible.

  Quinton leaned in close, squinting at the picture. “Looks like Christine’s pin was gold. Nala’s was silver.”

  “But Nala has an alibi,” Savannah said. “Don’t forget that.”

  Nala smiled at her. “Thanks. What about Dave? I can’t remember what time I saw him, and he did hate Sinclair.”

  Nathan peered over Cooper’s shoulder. “Dave’s pin was gold.”

  “I was so sure it was him,” Bryant said. “Too bad.”

  Cooper looked up from the phone. “Guys, Mandy’s pin is silver. Where was she again when Sinclair died?”

  “The amphitheater,” Kenneth said. He looked over his shoulder at the stairs. “She’s been in the restroom a long time.”

  Nathan walked to the base of the stairs and took a few steps up. “Mandy?” he shouted. There was no answer. He jogged up the stairs, and a moment later returned. “She’s not there.”

  Nala’s eyes grew wide. “What? Where did she go?”

  Nathan disappeared down the hallway, and then hurried back. “The garage door is unlocked. She must have heard us and slipped out that way when we were talking.”

  “I don’t believe it . . .” Kenneth said slowly. “Mandy killed Sinclair.”

  18

  “Her purse is still here,” Trish announced, pawing through a bright red shoulder bag.

  “Why would she leave her purse?” Jake asked. “If it were me, I’d want my keys, so I could drive away.”

  “She took a purse. She and I have the same purse, and she took mine instead of hers. Her keys are still in here.”

  “Does that mean she has your keys now?” Nathan asked.

  Trish shook her head. “Jake and Savannah brought me over, and they’re taking me home after. Phil’s at home with
the girls, so I didn’t bring keys with me.”

  Danny was already at the front door. “She’s on foot,” he announced. “We can catch her.” Before anyone could argue, he was after Mandy. Nathan and Cooper were close on his heels, with the rest of them bringing up the rear.

  “I’ll stay here and call the police!” Savannah shouted after them. “Be careful!”

  Out into the cool night air they ran. Cooper peered down the road as far as she could see, looking for any sign of Mandy. Darkness settled over the neighborhood, making it impossible to see into the distance.

  “Everyone be quiet,” Jake said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Savannah, it’s that you don’t need to see to be able to find your way.”

  “He’s right,” Danny agreed. “Listen.”

  In an instant, all was silent. Cooper held her breath, listening to the subtle changes in the breeze, the hum of the neighbor’s air-conditioning unit, and the quiet hooting of an owl. She closed her eyes, concentrating, just as Savannah had taught her. But all the noises blended together. Nothing stood out. No sign of Mandy.

  A moment later, Danny turned his head to the stop sign at the corner. “Did anyone else hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Nala asked. “I don’t hear anything out of the ordinary.”

  “It sounded like someone falling down.” He pointed to the corner. “Came from around the bend. Is there anything there, other than houses?”

  Nathan nodded. “The community park is just around the corner. It’s got logs around the border. People are always tripping over them.”

  “A park would be a good place to hide,” Jake said.

  Danny took off at a dead run, and the others followed, rounding the corner and finding themselves staring into the darkness of the park. The playground equipment was highlighted by moonlight. In the breeze, the swings moved, as if ridden by ghosts, and the same wind howled through the tube slide.

  As Cooper stepped forward, her foot caught on something, and she started to fall. At the last moment, she caught her balance, steadying herself. Jake, on the other hand, fell forward and landed flat on his face.

  “What the heck was that?” Jake asked rather loudly.