Fate of the Fallen

by Ellery Adams

  Aware of the noisy clip-clop of her only pair of heels, which had lain dormant in the far reaches of her closet since the office Christmas party, Cooper made an attempt to walk on the balls of her feet. Tiptoeing, she glanced down every hall she passed but didn’t see another human being until she ran smack into a long torso clad in a blue-and-yellow-checked button-down.

  “Sorry!” said a baritone voice coming from over her head. After collecting herself, Cooper glanced up into the face of the very tall man she’d collided with. She saw a pair of warm brown eyes and a slightly bashful smile. It was a pleasant face all around, though rather high in the forehead and sharp in the chin.

  “Are you new to Hope Street?” the man asked softly.

  Cooper nodded. “Yes, and I’m totally lost.” She laughed nervously. “This wing is like a rabbit warren, only I think their burrows smell less like Lysol.”

  The man’s grin widened. “Come on, I’ll show you where to go. I’m Nathan Dexter, by the way.”

  Pleased that she had an escort to the service, Cooper smiled in relief. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cooper.”

  “That’s an unusual name for a woman.” Nathan shook Cooper’s hand. “Must have been a barrel maker somewhere in your family history,” he said as though the idea was fascinating. “I really like familial names. I think it’s a great way to honor an ancestor, you know? A way of uniting people from different generations.” He cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed. “That’s my backward way of saying I think your name is cool.”

  “Thanks.” No one had ever complimented Cooper on her name before. “It was my great-grandfather’s. And you’re right, he was named after his aunt—her last name was Cooper—and her father was a barrel maker. She didn’t make barrels, but she filled her fair share with whiskey and dill pickles.”

  “Two of my favorites.” Nathan grinned. “And don’t be too impressed with my attempt at intelligence. I’m just a computer geek who likes crossword puzzles, so my nose is often stuck in a dictionary.” He gestured with one of his long arms. “We’re in here, to your left.”

  Cooper hesitated for a moment, as the doorway appeared to lead into a classroom, not a chapel. She could hear the murmur of several voices, but not the rumble of dozens and dozens of parishioners getting settled for service. What was going on? With Nathan right on her heels and closing fast, she had no other choice but to enter.

  All chatting ceased as soon as Cooper stepped through the threshold. Four people were seated in a circle, their hands folded on top of student desks. Each person had a copy of the Bible opened in front of them, along with a few sheets of paper covered with notes, and a pen. Their postures were relaxed and they all smiled at her in welcome.

  “Who’s there?” asked a woman seated closest to the door. She had black hair, dark blue eyes, and unusually pale skin. She also seemed to be trying to figure out who had entered the room.

  “It’s Nathan, Savannah,” Nathan called from the doorway. “And this is Cooper.” Nathan gave Cooper a gentle push, indicating she should move closer to the woman. “This is Savannah,” he said. “She’s the leader of our little group.” The woman held out a hand speckled with colorful stains, like a child who’d used permanent markers and was only able to wash away the surface layer of pigment. The woman’s fingers closed around Cooper’s and she used her free hand to probe the skin of Cooper’s palm. “Aha! Another woman who works with her hands! How wonderful.”

  As Cooper glanced around, wondering how to make a polite escape in order to locate the actual worship service, she noticed a white cane beneath Savannah’s desk.

  “In case you haven’t guessed, I’m legally blind,” Savannah said as if she knew exactly what Cooper had spotted. “But I can still see shapes and, thank the Lord, colors. I ‘see’ people by recognizing their body shape and smell.” She gave a series of sniffs like a bloodhound catching a fresh fox scent. “You’re Dove soap, aloe lotion, guava-scented shampoo, and . . . She inhaled deeply and Cooper took a step backward. “Well, I’ll be. I believe you might work on machines. Am I totally off the mark?”

  “I repair office machines,” Cooper said in surprise, staring at the woman. “How did you know?” She pretended to check her armpits. “Am I giving off a whiff of toner? Maybe some grease? I use baby powder Secret every morning, I swear.”

  Savannah laughed.

  “Okay, okay,” a man who looked like he was in need of a haircut and shave quickly interjected. “Let the lovely lady get situated before we pry her open like a mussel and check out her innards.” He held out his hand for Cooper to shake. “I’m Jake. Master plumber and electrician, detective novel addict, and Little League baseball coach. I’m here because one of my buddies started reading Scripture during our lunch breaks and I felt called to learn more. Come sit by me and I’ll get you some coffee.”

  Cooper gave him a grateful nod but didn’t settle into the empty desk he pulled over. “Actually, I think I’m in the wrong place,” she said and smiled politely.

  “We’re the Sunrise Bible Study Group,” a woman wearing gobs of makeup beneath a helmet of copper hair explained. “I’m Trish Tyler. My husband is one of Hope’s elders,” she said importantly. “And I’m sure you know my name because you’re bound to have seen my billboards. My assistants joke that I’m trying to get as many as South of the Border!” She leapt up and placed a business card on Cooper’s desk. “No cacti or sombreros, though. Anyway, welcome to Hope Street.”

  Cooper had heard of Trish Tyler. Her picture was plastered on billboards, moving vans, and on the hundreds of Tyler Realty FOR SALE signs across the city. Trish was seated next to another well-known Richmonder. Bryant Shelton was the meteorologist for Channel 6 news. He was notorious for being incredibly vague in his forecasts, for his string of marriages to women much younger than himself, and for raising funds for poverty-stricken senior citizens.

  Bryant offered Cooper his best TV smile, nearly blinding her with the stark whiteness of his porcelain veneers, and said, “I’m new as well. Just joined a few weeks ago.” He pointed at Trish. “She gave me a business card within the first ten seconds of my arrival too. Personally,” he said, raising his voice as he winked playfully at Trish, “I think she puts them in the offering plate.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Bryant.” Trish pretended to count her business cards. “Do you think I have enough?”

  Bryant gave Cooper a flirtatious smile. “I like the young and hip feel of this church. It might look old school, but this church is hi-tech.” The light in his eyes dimmed slightly. “Ever since my wife left, Sunday mornings were getting kind of lonely, so I came here to meet some new friends. The band is really good too. I never knew that church could be so much like a party. We really rock out during the service.”

  “That sounds cool,” Cooper replied, trying to visualize the combination of a church service and an Aerosmith concert.

  “We haven’t started our morning’s lesson yet, so don’t worry about catching up,” Trish said to ease Cooper’s mind. “We’re waiting for another member to arrive.”

  “That would be Quinton,” Jake added. “Big-time banker dude and the best cake baker you ever met. He’s probably late because he’s frosting the tenth layer of some awesome chocolate fudge cake.” He grinned smugly. “That’s why our study’s better than everybody else’s. We have the best food.”

  “Well, that’s all of us.” Savannah nodded. “Let’s begin so we’re not late for worship. I hope Quinton will join us shortly.” She turned toward Cooper. “It’s a good day for you to jump in, since the theme we’re discussing is ‘beginnings.’ Next week we’re going to start a study on Paul’s letters called ‘Dear Church: Paul’s Letter in the Book of Ephesians.’”

  Trish held out her workbook. “Cooper, you can just run over to the Christian bookstore and buy one of these there. Then you’ll be ready to join our little group.”

  Cooper was slightly baffled by what Savannah and Trish had said. She knew that Ephesi
ans was one of the books in the Bible, but she’d never read it before, and though she’d driven by the LifeWay store, she’d never gone inside. She was more of a Barnes and Noble shopper. “Sorry, but you’ve lost me. I don’t even have a Bible.” Feeling that was the wrong thing to say, Cooper quickly amended her statement. “I have one at home, but I’m pretty sure it’s a kid’s Bible. It’s full of colored illustrations and I think my name’s written on the first page in purple crayon.”

  “My favorite color.” Savannah patted the empty desk beside her. “Have a seat, honey. You can share mine. Shoot, I can’t see it anyway!” She laughed and then waited patiently until Cooper sat down.

  Savannah pushed a small Bible with a worn red leather cover toward Cooper’s side of her desk and said, “I’ve had this since I was a teenager, so it’s like an old friend. I take it everywhere and it’s never led me astray. It’s my own version of a Seeing Eye dog.”

  “Hey, why don’t you have one of those dogs anyhow?” Jake puzzled in his gravelly voice.

  “I told you before. I don’t want my blindness to define me.” Savannah held out her multihued hands. “And I don’t want people to buy my paintings because I have a disability. I want the paintings to speak to them.”

  “Anyway,” Trish interjected gently, “we’re going to kick off the study by sharing a significant ‘beginning’ in our own lives. I was going to share the ups and downs of starting my own business.”

  “I wish you’d tell me the secret,” Jake muttered as he handed Cooper a mug of black coffee and a small pitcher of cream. “I’m tired of working for The Man.”

  Smoothing her copper-hued bangs, which looked like they’d been sprayed with polyurethane and wouldn’t move during a Category Five hurricane, Trish turned an intense pair of violet eyes (which Cooper assumed had to be contacts) on Jake. “Is that your new beginning? To launch your own plumbing company?”

  Jake shook his head. “Nah. I’m not ready to make that move just yet. Besides, my boss has always played straight with me and I like the other guys in my crew. Actually, my most recent beginning is this.” He pushed up the sleeve of his long-sleeve crewneck with a flourish. Cooper noticed an enormous tattoo of a Celtic cross on his bulging bicep. An inch above the top of the cross was a square of flesh-colored material resembling a Band-Aid.

  Savannah leaned closer to Cooper. “What is he showing us?”

  “I’m wearing a patch,” Jake declared proudly. “I’m going to quit smoking. This patch is supposed to help me keep from wanting to drive over to the nearest Wawa and buy a pack.” His gaze remained fixed on Savannah’s face as he awaited her reply.

  “Good for you, Jake!” She clapped her hands together. “How many years have you smoked?”

  Jake unrolled his sleeve. “Started sneaking the ole cancer sticks in junior high. All my friends did. It made us feel like men.” He shrugged. “But now I know I don’t need them to feel like a man and I’m damned tired of how they’ve got such a powerful hold over me.”

  “It’ll be a struggle,” Savannah said seriously. “But I have faith in you, Jake, and we’ll encourage you in any way that we can.”

  Buoyed by her warm response, Jake’s face broke into a smile and he seemed to grow an inch taller in his chair. Cooper noticed for the first time that he was a fairly attractive man behind his stubble and slightly unkempt hair.

  “Hey, you have a partner in withdrawal,” she whispered to him. “I just threw a full pack of Camel Lights into the garbage can outside the back door.”

  Jake gave her a high five and offered her a piece of nicotine gum, but she brandished the package of Wrigley’s within her purse and, after exchanging collaborative grins, the pair turned their attention to Bryant.

  “My best beginning was the day of my wedding,” the meteorologist stated, pushing a wave of blonde hair off his forehead. Cooper thought that Bryant looked like he should be on a beach in California instead of in a church in Richmond.

  “I’m not trying to sound crass, but which wedding?” Savannah inquired.

  Everyone giggled and Cooper took the opportunity to peek over at Nathan. He was refreshingly quiet. He simply listened to the others and sat in his chair with an aura of calm attentiveness that Cooper found appealing. She noticed that he tucked his feet under his chair as far as they would go and wondered if he was self-conscious about either his height or his incredibly large shoes.

  “The first one,” Bryant said without ire. He was undoubtedly used to answering questions from the local media about his marriages and divorces. Cooper realized that he was probably closest to her in age. Everyone else seemed to be in his or her late thirties.

  How many marriages could the guy have had and barely look a day over thirty? she wondered.

  “The wedding most people don’t know about because the marriage was annulled the next day,” Bryant continued.

  “Sounds like Britney Spears.” Trish looked at the others. “Wasn’t her first marriage a Vegas hoax?” No one replied, and the subject of Britney’s marital past was quickly passed over.

  “I loved my first wife more than I’ve ever loved any woman,” Bryant declared with feeling. “But she was pregnant when we married and, as it turned out, I wasn’t the father. She left me for him the day after our wedding.”

  “That’s awful!” Trish cried, while the rest of the members nodded in sympathy.

  Savannah turned her face toward Nathan. “What’s your most recent beginning?”

  “Um.” He tucked his feet a few inches farther under the chair. “This is a bit embarrassing, but I just joined an online dating service.”

  Trish licked her shellacked lips and leaned forward eagerly in her seat. “Which one?”

  Nathan ran his fingers through his hair and mumbled, “RichmondMatchmaker.com.” He looked at Cooper. “I design and develop websites, so I spend most of my time in front of my computer. Figured I may as well date on the computer too.” He clasped his long fingers together and raised his eyebrows. “Your turn, new girl.”

  Cooper traced the rim of her coffee cup. “I met a woman who’s a member here. She invited me to come and it felt like something I wanted to try.”

  Jake raised his brows. “You looking for a church to join?”

  “To tell the truth, I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” Cooper said. And when the Sunrise members continued to gaze at her expectantly, she reluctantly added, “The man I expected to marry broke up with me. I’m trying to get over him—to move on. I thought coming here would help.”

  “What happened?” Nathan asked sympathetically.

  Encouraged by his tone, Cooper pushed the words out rapid-fire. “My ex-boyfriend is a home inspector. He liked to drink beer, and toward the end of our relationship he was drinking way too much. He started showing up to work late or sometimes not at all. One day he went to a home inspection totally drunk and it didn’t work out so well.”

  Trish made a disapproving tsk-tsk noise. “Not good.”

  . “Exactly,” Cooper agreed. “Drew threw up all over the client’s antique Oriental rug. He and the client, a guy named Trent, called each other some ugly names, punches were thrown, and finally a neighbor called the cops. Both men spent the night in jail, and when it was time for their bail to be posted . . . ah, now I’m at the hard part . . .”

  “You’re doing great,” Jake coaxed. “Go on. Get it out.”

  Cooper rubbed the smooth surface of the desktop. “This gorgeous redhead named Anna Lynne White came to bail out her brother, Trent.” Cooper fought to keep her voice even. “She also paid for Drew’s bail and announced to both guys that the price for her having sprung them was that they would both have to go to church with her straightaway. That was her deal. Trent did as his sister asked but the big surprise was that Drew did too. Apparently, Drew fell in love with Anna Lynne White the second he laid eyes on her. That spelled the end of our relationship.”

  The room was silent for a moment.

  “Thank you for sh
aring with us,” Savannah said and some of the other group members echoed their gratitude. “We welcome you to our group with open hearts and open hands. If you’re ready for a new beginning, then we’ll do our best to support you as you step onto this unfamiliar road. Friends”—Savannah held out her hands—“let’s pray for our friend Cooper.”

  Cooper watched as the other Sunrise members bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

  They’re doing this for me, she thought, amazed.

  Just as the group finished praying, a plain-faced man in an expensive but rumpled suit entered the room. Everything about him spoke of excess, including the gold rings stuffed onto his sausagelike fingers, the loose double chin, and the swell of an overfed belly that strained the rich material of his double-breasted blazer. The large man gripped a Tupperware cake holder in his free hand as if it offered protection. Cooper could detect smudges of chocolate frosting shadowing the inside of the lid.

  “Quinton?” Savannah lifted her nose in the air. “Is that you?”

  “Yes,” Jake confirmed, his rough voice sounding worried. “What’s wrong, big man?”

  Staggering toward the closest empty seat, Quinton fell into the chair, as though being shoved down by the force of a great burden. Cooper felt the atmosphere in the classroom transform. Gone was the light-spirited talk and intimate banter. Every set of anxious eyes was glued to Quinton’s troubled face.

  “Savannah,” he murmured in an anguished tone, “a member of our congregation has been killed.” He put his face in his hands and, without looking up, said, “And Wesley Hughes has been arrested for murder.”

  As a collective, the group gasped.

  Quinton stared down at his trembling hands and tried locking them together. His agitated gaze shifted and alighted on Cooper. “Forgive me.” He spoke directly to her. “I think I’m still in shock. I’m Quinton.”

  Jake rose and left the room, returning seconds later with a paper cup filled with water.

  “Who was killed?” Jake asked, putting a hand on Quinton’s shoulder.