Angel Condemned Read online

  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?

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  M557T0809

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

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nd Ltd.)

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  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.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN : 978-1-101-54548-5

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME

  Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  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.