by Mary Stanton
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Epilogue
The Hierarchy of the Crystal Sphere
ALSO FROM MARY STANTON
PRAISE FOR THE BEAUFORT & COMPANY MYSTERIES
Angel’s Verdict
“Exciting . . . An entertaining mystery.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The latest Beaufort & Company mystery is sure to please series fans and newcomers alike. Stanton has penned a tale that will keep the reader’s interest to the very end . . . Larger-than-life characters—human and temporal—infuse the story with humor and empathy.”
—Romantic Times (4 stars)
Avenging Angels
“Stanton’s third Beaufort & Company mystery is a gem. It’s an original and thought-provoking concept, and Stanton’s imagination knows no bounds. Her characters—both dead and alive—are ones you want to spend time with and get to know better.”
—Romantic Times (4 ½ stars)
“An engaging tale due to a strong cast starting with the lead attorney. The storyline is fast-paced on earth and in court . . . Fans will enjoy this still unique quirky angelic spin on the afterlife.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“A witty and engaging mystery of life after death . . . An entertaining and fun read.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Quick paced with an unusual twist . . . [A] devilishly good read.”
—The Mystery Reader
“Stanton has taken an unusual premise and given it wings.”
—Fresh Fiction
Angel’s Advocate
“Stanton packs this story with murder, mystery, and suspense . . . An entertaining mystery with a dash of the unknown.”
—Darque Reviews
“Stanton has melded legal procedure, medieval philosophy, and theology into a fresh, unique, and ever-expanding world.”
—ReviewingTheEvidence.com
“A very intriguing, impossible-to-put-down mystery.”
—Romance Junkies
“A brilliantly plotted whodunit . . . I couldn’t put it down!”
—Fresh Fiction
“Highly original and plain fun!”
—Richmond Times-Dispatch
“Great new series from Mary Stanton . . . A very unique take on a cozy legal!”
—Gumshoe Review
Defending Angels
“Engaging and charismatic . . . A breath of fresh air for fans of paranormal cozy mysteries.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Mary Stanton brings a unique mixture of charm and quirkiness . . . Bree and her unconventional employees are impossible to resist.”
—Suspense Magazine
“Don’t start reading too late at night—it’s one of those books you can’t put down until you finish.”
—The Compulsive Reader
“Packed with Southern charm and spooky foreshadowing that will delight readers!”
—Fresh Fiction
“This is not one of the cozies that make for some mundane reading, but instead it is a mix of hilarity, heart-stopping danger, and clever storytelling.”
—Roundtable Reviews
“Spooky Southern charm and a wonderfully inventive approach to the afterlife with a celestial twist makes Mary Stanton’s Defending Angels a real standout. Brava!”
—Madelyn Alt, bestselling author of Home for a Spell
“Mary Stanton’s Defending Angels gives heavenly choirs reason to sing! From its opening scene in a haunted graveyard to its final, satisfying conclusion amid a quartet of suspected killers, Defending Angels successfully spices the madcap zaniness of Bridget Jones with the determined goodness of a young lawyer fighting to build her first practice.”
—Mindy Klasky, author of To Wish or Not to Wish
“Mary Stanton has truly captured the spirit—or spirits—of Savannah.”
—Don Bruns, author of Stuff to Spy For
“Intriguing and wholly different and original. Defending Angels is at once charming, erudite, and chilling. This book should give Mary Stanton the same kind of cult following usually reserved for Charlaine Harris.”
—Rhys Bowen, award-winning author of the Molly Murphy Mysteries and the Royal Spyness Mysteries
“Mary Stanton’s imaginative Defending Angels definitely has wings. An elegant enchantment with a delightful heroine and a historic setting.”
—Carolyn Hart, author of Dead by Midnight
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Mary Stanton
DEFENDING ANGELS
ANGEL’S ADVOCATE
AVENGING ANGELS
ANGEL’S VERDICT
ANGEL CONDEMNED
Titles by Mary Stanton writing as Claudia Bishop
Hemlock Falls Mysteries
A TASTE FOR MURDER
A DASH OF DEATH
A PINCH OF POISON
MURDER WELL-DONE
DEATH DINES OUT
A TOUCH OF THE GRAPE
A STEAK IN MURDER
MARINADE FOR MURDER
JUST DESSERTS
FRIED BY JURY
A PUREE OF POISON
BURIED BY BREAKFAST
A DINNER TO DIE FOR
GROUND TO A HALT
A CAROL FOR A CORPSE
TOAST MORTEM
The Casebooks of Dr. McKenzie Mysteries
THE CASE OF THE ROASTED ONION
THE CASE OF THE TOUGH-TALKING TURKEY
THE CASE OF THE ILL-GOTTEN GOAT
Anthologies
A PLATEFUL OF MURDER
DEATH IN TWO COURSES
ALSO FROM MARY STANTON
ANGEL’S Advocate
Money’s been tight ever since Brianna Winston-Beaufort inherited Savannah’s haunted law firm Beaufort & Company—along with its less-than-angelic staff. But she’s finally going to tackle a case that pays the bills, representing a spoiled girl who robbed a Girl Scout. But soon enough Bree finds that her client’s departed millionaire father needs help, too. Can she help an unsavory father/daughter duo and make a living off of the living?
penguin.com
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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.
ANGEL CONDEMNED
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / November 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Mary Stanton.
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ISBN : 978-1-101-54548-5
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Cast of Characters
The Winston-Beauforts
Brianna “Bree” Winston-Beaufort . . . attorney-at-law
Antonia Winston-Beaufort . . . Bree’s younger sister, an actress/stage manager
Francesca “Chessie” Carmichael Winston-Beaufort . . . Antonia’s mother, Bree’s adoptive mother
Royal Winston-Beaufort . . . Antonia’s father, Bree’s adoptive father
Franklin Winston-Beaufort (deceased) . . . Royal’s uncle, Bree’s birth father
Leah Villiers Winston-Beaufort (deceased) . . . Franklin’s young wife, Bree’s birth mother
Celia “Aunt Cissy” Carmichael . . . a wealthy divorcée, Francesca’s younger sister
Beaufort & Company
Ronald Parchese . . . angel and secretary at the Angelus Street office
Petru Lechta . . . angel and paralegal at the Angelus Street office
Lavinia Mather . . . angel and owner of the 66 Angelus Street building
Armand Cianquino . . . retired law school professor, director of Beaufort & Company
Gabriel . . . angel and investigator
Sasha . . . a dog and angel
Emerald “EB” Billingsley . . . secretary at the Bay Street office
In the Chatham County Judicial System
Sam Hunter . . . police lieutenant, Chatham County
Cordelia “Cordy” Blackburn . . . assistant district attorney, Chatham County
Gavin . . . Cordy’s assistant
Karen Rasmussen . . . an assistant district attorney
John Stubblefield . . . a lawyer
Payton McAllister III . . . a lawyer And various public defenders, justices, and members of the police force
In (and around) the Celestial Court System
Goldstein . . . angel and court recorder
Zebulon “Zeb” Beazley . . . a lawyer
George Caldecott . . . a lawyer
Mr. Barlow . . . an advocate
Lloyd Dumphey . . . paralegal, Beazley, Barlow & Caldecott
Some Residents of Savannah
Prosper Peter White . . . director, Frazier Museum, and a specialist in Roman antiquities
Alicia Kennedy . . . assistant to Prosper White
Allard Chambers . . . archeologist and co-owner of Chambers Antiques and Reclaimables
Jillian Knoles Chambers . . . archeologist and co-owner of Chambers Antiques and Reclaimables
Charles “Bullet” Martin . . . a wealthy buyer of antiquities
Lewis McCallen . . . a famous defense attorney
James “Jim” Santo . . . a famous defense attorney
Schofield “Scooey” Martin (deceased) . . . graduate student in archeology
One
“Would you believe the nerve of this wormy little bozo Allard Chambers? Bringing a lawsuit against Prosper, of all people?” Celia Carmichael patted Prosper White’s knee with a protective air. She didn’t wait for a response from the other people sitting in Brianna Winston-Beaufort’s law office but ran on like a train with no brakes. “And that scruffy little creep who forced Prosper to take the papers, Bree. He was a toad. Not only that—what’d you call him, darlin’?” She turned to the elegantly dressed man seated at her side and batted her eyelashes appealingly.
Celia Carmichael was Bree’s aunt—her mother Francesca’s youngest sister. The family called her Cissy—and until her recent engagement to museum curator Prosper White, she’d been a woman of cheerful insouciance and a certain artless flamboyance. She’d burst into Bree’s office some minutes ago, her face red with indignation, Prosper White trailing arrogantly in her wake.
“He was a process server, Celia.” White smoothed his fingers over his knee, dislodging Cissy’s hand with barely suppressed irritation. “I do wish you’d moderate your voice.”
Cissy’s fiancé was tall and lean. His hair was prematurely white, his eyes blue, and his face had a permanent tan. When Cissy had first introduced White to the family a month ago, Bree had guessed him to be in his late forties, although he looked younger. Cissy herself admitted to forty-five and looked like what she was: a well-cared-for Southern gentlewoman holding off the ravages of fifty-nine with charm and judicious applications of Botox.
“Whatever. This server,” she veered off into irrelevancy, “although I can’t think of a restaurant within a hundred miles of Savannah that would take him on as a waiter. The man had tattoos on his tattoos and a gold ring in his nose. Anyway, this person walks right into the gallery and shoves the papers into Prosper’s pocket. Then he grins like a hog on ice and scoots on out. I wanted to slap the smirk right off his mouth.”
Bree murmured sympathetically.
“So I brought Prosper over here sooner than quick. Well, we had one quick stop in between, but I have to tell you, I hustled. What we need, I told him, is the best lawyer in the state of Georgia, who I just happened to be related to by marriage, thank God. And since he’s going to be related to us by marriage in less than a week, I knew you’d be even more anxious to help us, Niece. You will, won’t you?” Cissy settled back into Bree’s only visitor chair with a snort, and then added, apropos of nothing in particular, “When are you going to get some decent furniture here, Bree?”
Bree couldn’t decide which question to answer first. She wasn’t anxious to take on a case for her aunt’s suspect fiancé, so she decided not to answer that one at all. And she didn’t have a dime to spend on fancy office furniture, so she wouldn’t answer that one, either. She’d bought the essentials when she’d reopened the office a few months ago: two desks, three chairs, and a steel-gray five-drawer filing cabinet from Second Hand Rows, the used furniture store on Whitaker Street. The place looked just fine, as far as she was concerned.
She looked at Prosper White and wondered at the instinctive dislike he’d raised in almost all of the Winston-Beauforts except the infatuated Cissy. The thumbs-down included Bree’s younger sister, Antonia, who normally exhibited no common sense about men at all. Maybe it was the determined air of supercilious contempt. Or his too-fancy shoes. Or the faint drift of cologne that followed him. Bree sighed. Whatever it was, the man couldn’t put a foot right with any of the family. She supposed she ought to feel sorry for him. But he wasn’t a man who invited sympathy.
At the momen
t, White seemed to have an attitude about her furniture. He slouched in Bree’s saggy leather office chair as if the touch of the worn-out leather was repugnant. Bree’s secretary, EB Billingsley, had dragged the chair out from behind the small screen that partitioned Bree’s desk from the rest of the office space. White also seemed to have an attitude about EB, whom he’d ignored when Cissy had made the introductions. EB was clearly one of “the little people” who didn’t count in the twin worlds of art and commerce.
EB herself commanded her space behind her battered pine desk with her customary air of majestic aplomb. The desk faced the mahogany office door eight feet away. The upper half of the door was made of the opaque glass popular when the Bay Street building went up in 1822. Black lettering read LAW OFFICES B. WINSTON-BEAUFORT, only backwards, if you were standing inside looking out, the way Bree was. Gray wall-to-wall carpeting covered pine floors too gouged and splintered from a former fire to be successfully refinished. The office had one window, double-hung, that looked out over Bay Street. You could glimpse the Savannah River between the rehabbed warehouses that lined the other side of the street, but the sight was so familiar Bree rarely bothered.
“We’re keepin’ an eye out for some nice new office furniture, Ms. Carmichael,” EB said blandly. “But I’ll tell you true, we’ve got so much business comin’ in that Bree hasn’t had time to spit.” This was a fib but a generous-hearted one; EB kept the accounts for this, the Bay Street office, and Bree’s Angelus Street office, too. She knew the dismal state of their finances better than anyone.