Destined to Fall (An Angel Falls Book 5)

by Jody A. Kessler

  She asks, “Will you grab my hair clip? I need one more. It’s on the trunk by my bed.”

  “Sure,” I say, and head for her room.

  I have no idea what hair clip she’s asking for, but it’s a hair clip and can’t be hard to find. I stare at the big storage trunk, the stereo, CDs, books, lamp, phone, and papers on top, but there’s no clip. Acting quickly, because I know she’s waiting, I place everything carefully aside and open the trunk lid, only to find shelves, compartments, and stacks of notebooks, envelopes, clothing, and other miscellaneous items. Frustration creeps up my back like a hard shell as I begin to think the hair clip was a ploy to make me to stop hovering while she gets ready to leave.

  Digging through one last corner of the trunk, I only find a picture of a log home that looks likes it was torn from a magazine. A star is drawn on the corner of the picture with a handwritten note that says, “mine someday.” It catches my attention for a brief second because it looks familiar, but I don’t know why exactly. Since I’m still hurrying, I replace the picture and turn around to go ask for another clue as to where the blankety-blank effing clip is. I don’t get the chance.

  “What are you doing?” she asks from the doorway.

  She holds a twist of braided hair with one hand to keep her hairstyle from coming undone, but the look on her face has me more concerned that her attitude may come undone first.

  “I’m trying to find your hair thing,” I say. It may have come out more harshly than I meant it to, but I just searched through the contents of my girlfriend’s past, moved a locker full of miscellaneous stuff, and came up empty handed. “You said it was inside your trunk.”

  She walks up, reaches over, and swipes the lid closed. It slams shut with a whoosh of air. Juliana sidesteps around me, looks at the piles of her belongings, and picks up the black hair clip.

  “I said it was on my trunk.”

  “That’s not what I heard you say,” I defend.

  “It’s what I said.” She secures the braid in place and begins placing everything back on top of the trunk.

  Juliana never gets upset about small stuff. The snippy attitude is so unlike her, I’m not sure what to do or say. I help put the stereo back. “I must have misunderstood.”

  Her shoulders are rigid. She looks away for a second, hiding her face from me, and takes a deep breath. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “It’s umm… Could you stay out of my trunk? It’s private.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t believe it wasn’t locked. I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She stares at the closed trunk, sulking. “You’ve already seen everything inside.”

  “I wasn’t snooping, Jules.”

  “I didn’t say you were. I’m touchy about it. You can have or do anything you want in my whole house, but not my trunk.”

  I feel like I’ve been scolded, but I swallow some pride and say, “It’s okay. It’s important for us to keep our own identity. I’m glad you have something private that I’m not a part of.”

  I think I see tears in her eyes, but she’s quick to hide it as she walks out of the room. “I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.”

  I say to her back, “Do you want me to get the car ready?”

  “That’d be good,” I hear through the walls.

  Torn between making sure she’s all right and giving her space, I decide that looking over the car is the better option in the moment.

  I find a tire pressure gauge in the glove box and check all the tires. Then I start to clean out her car. There isn’t much garbage to throw away, but there is some clutter, so I start stashing and or removing everything we won’t need for an overnight trip.

  Juliana walks out of the front door and over to me.

  The cringe on her face makes me realize I’m messing up again. I step back from the open hatchback of her Saab and wait for the reprimand.

  “Where’s my car blanket and bag?”

  “Your what?”

  “The little blanket and tote bag that was back here. Where are they? I keep them for emergencies.”

  “With the shopping bags and ice scraper. Over there.” I point to the pile I made on the front porch.

  She turns around and walks over to said pile and puts everything back inside the trunk.

  “The ice scraper? It’s summer.”

  “If I don’t have it with me, I will definitely need it. It’s like weather insurance.”

  “Of course,” I say, knowing I will never win an argument based on that sort of logic.

  “I guess I should have told you to leave the stuff in my car alone, too.”

  “I can’t win right now. Maybe it would be best if I meet you up there. I should be assigned a new case by now anyway.”

  “Still nothing?” she asks.

  “Not yet,” I say with a shrug.

  “Please, don’t leave. I’m on edge right now and I can’t help myself. If it’s any consolation, this is as snappy as I get.” She looks abashed. “I know you were trying to be helpful and I appreciate it,” she says as she stares at the stuff in the car. “It would be nice if you hung out with me for the drive. It would be even better if you can stay with me all day and tonight.”

  I wrap an arm around her and hold tight. “I’m staying. Even if I can’t do anything right. Do you have bags I can grab for you?”

  She smiles knowingly. “I’ll get them.”

  ∞

  On the road, things are getting worse instead of better. Juliana’s mood seems to have improved — or she’s trying not to be grumpy. That is, until we get pulled over.

  The police car flashes its lights behind us. I don’t have a license or any ID whatsoever.

  “What are we going to do?” she asks. “You can’t go to jail.”

  Juliana is nearing panic mode.

  “I won’t go to jail. I might get a ticket,” I say, and hope it’s true.

  “I’m not so sure. You don’t even exist. Well, not for a couple decades.”

  “It’ll be all right,” I say.

  “Disappear and I’ll scoot over the shifter into the driver’s seat.”

  “I’m sure the cop will see you. No. I don’t like the idea.”

  “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “I can handle it,” I say.

  Juliana clamps her mouth shut and twists around in her seat to look behind us.

  “Unbelievable,” she says and palms her forehead.

  “What?” I ask, concerned.

  “It’s Officer Suarez. Again.”

  “Good. He knows you. That should help.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m not exactly his favorite person.”

  I lower the window and switch off the car. To the southwest, we can see the giant plume of smoke from the fire which has been devouring the open lands, hills, arroyos, and plateaus since last night. With the rising sun, the fire has grown exponentially. The heat of the day isn’t helping, either. There are scattered clouds over the mountain peaks to the north, but south and west of the highway is clear azure skies. The news is reporting a chance of scattered thunderstorms, but they aren’t supposed to arrive until late tonight.

  I hand the officer Juliana’s insurance card and vehicle registration.

  “Driver’s license, please,” he says.

  “Hi, Officer Suarez.” Juliana leans over so he can see her through the low window.

  “License, please,” he says again.

  “My boyfriend doesn’t have it with him. We’re really sorry, but we can’t find his wallet.”

  He tips his sunglasses and stares at Juliana, then at me.

  “Are you knowingly driving without a license, Sir?” he asks.

  Unable to lie, I stumble for an answer. I wish I had a driver’s license. Vivi said she could obtain any piece of identity I would need once I was alive again. I guess I’m going to have to take her up on the offer. “I’m here visiting and misplaced my wallet,” I say.

  “What is your name? And where are y
ou visiting from?”

  “Nathaniel Evans,” I say.

  “He’s here from Angel’s Camp, California,” Juliana says.

  She knows I won’t lie and I’m grateful she’s filling in the blanks for me. Not that she’s any good at lying, either.

  “The reason I pulled you over is because your brake light is out. It’s also cracked. I believe I told you about it the night you were stuck in the ditch.”

  “Umm,” she says. “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten.”

  He frowns at us and glances at his paperwork. “May I have your license, Ms. Crowson? I saw it last night, but I’ll run it again in case you’ve been up to more trouble in the last ten hours. What is it with you, anyway?” he asks, but I suspect he doesn’t want an answer.

  Juliana retrieves her driver’s license from her bag and passes it over.

  He taps the card against his palm. “You two stay put,” he says and walks back to his SUV.

  “Angel’s Camp? Really?” I ask when the cop is out of earshot.

  “I had to say something before you blew your cover,” she says with a grimace.

  “I wasn’t sure what to say,” I admit.

  Officer Suarez keeps us waiting for an eternity. Juliana is so tense I think she may shatter. His presence upsets her.

  “What’s going to happen when he doesn’t find any trace of you?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m considering the idea of messing with his computer or something. This is ridiculous. We need to get going or you’re going to miss the concert.”

  “I know. We’re cutting it close. What could be taking him so long?”

  “I short circuited his computer and now he’s waiting on the radio,” a female voice says from the back seat.

  Juliana screams and jumps so high she bumps her head on the ceiling.

  “My apologies, sweet girl. There’s no need to be frightened of me,” Harmony says.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask my fellow Angel of Death.

  “Hi to you, too, Nathaniel,” she says.

  She’s not in her physical body, but to Juliana and me it doesn’t matter. We both see and hear her as if she is.

  “Are you okay?” she asks Jules.

  “Not really.” Juliana presses her palm to her heart. “What did you say about the computer?”

  “It’s in need of tech support. There is a lot of static on his radio as well.”

  “Why are you helping us?” I ask.

  “You are full of yourself today, aren’t you?” she asks me.

  “It’s been a trying last few days,” I say, and adjust my attitude. Harmony has always been a friend and she’s here to assist, not delay.

  “Another reason I’ve come to your aid,” she says, and squeezes my shoulder. “Give me one more minute with our dear friend back there.”

  Harmony disappears from our car. In the rearview mirror, I see her blonde hair inside the police cruiser.

  “What do you think she’s doing?”

  “I hope she’s helping speed up this mess.”

  Five minutes later, our officer meanders up to my window and hands over Juliana’s license and papers.

  “You need to let your girlfriend drive from here on out,” he says. “It seems my computer is on the fritz and doesn’t want to cooperate. I’ll have to trust you’re not pulling the wool over my eyes.”

  “No, Sir. We’re definitely not.”

  “Ms. Crowson, repair your brake light before you get pulled over again.”

  “I will, Officer,” she says as she grips her license, white knuckles glowing with tension.

  He stares hard at the two of us, then focuses on Juliana. “I don’t know why your luck keeps holding out, but this is the last warning. Next time, you’ll be ticketed and a tow truck will be giving you a ride home.” Officer Suarez blinks. His stern mouth softens a few degrees. “Since you’re here, I want to thank you personally for helping break the horse thieving ring. Dominic Reeves was apprehended this morning. The last of the missing horses was brought in with him. Catching those men has been difficult and I think every department working on the case is grateful to you, Chris, and Sherman White Wolf Abeyta. I think every horse owner in the Four Corners area will sleep better at night.”

  “Umm… I was glad to help,” Juliana manages to say.

  “Thank you, Sir,” I say with as much humbleness as I can muster.

  Straightening, he mumbles, “Drive safe and fix that light.”

  Juliana and I switch seats quickly and pull away. Harmony rejoins us.

  “Good. I was hoping he would take my advice and dismiss the ticket he wanted to give you,” she says.

  “How did you manage that?” Jules asks.

  “We talk to people all the time whether they hear us or not. He was quite receptive for a cop.”

  “Sort of like subliminal messages?”

  “Yes,” she confirms. “Some people are more open than others. You should know how it feels, I would think.”

  “Umm, yeah. I do,” Juliana says with a pointed look over her shoulder at our angelic visitor in the back seat.

  “Now, I’m going to steal your boyfriend away from you. I need him to accompany me.”

  “I doubt I’ll be of much use to you. I’m batting pretty low these days,” I say.

  “Nonsense. You’re just the angel for what I need.”

  Reluctant to leave Juliana alone, I say, “What’s going on, Harmony? Troubled client or something else?”

  “Come with me and you’ll see,” she says with a sweet smile.

  “I don’t want to leave Juliana. The cop rattles her nerves.”

  “I’m fine now,” Jules tries to assure me. “You owe Harmony paybacks. She helped us out.”

  “You won’t be gone forever, Nathaniel Evans,” she says crossly. “I need your opinion on something important.”

  My jaw tightens and I stare out the window in silence for a minute. Everything feels wrong about today. Since I left Steven at the crossover, it has been one tense moment after another. Now, Harmony wants me to leave with her. She’s never come to retrieve me for a job before. I’ve sought her out, but never the other way around. She and Marcus are the two angels I look up to when I need answers. Even Marcus will call on Harmony for assistance. Because of ranking, I know she can make me go with her. There’s no use pretending I have a choice here.

  Stalling will only prolong the inevitable. “Lead me to your master.”

  It was only a joke, but Harmony nods like she’s agreeable to my poor choice of words. I lean over to Juliana and brush her hair back exposing her ear and side of her neck. “See you soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-one: Jinxed

  Nathaniel

  I follow Harmony through a whirlwind of nonsense. One landscape blends into another and scene after scene flashes before us. China is crowded. A street market sells every imaginable vegetable and seafood while eager buyers squawk over prices with the merchants. Then we're traveling again. Our next stop is a cobbled lane lined with stone buildings. The passersby speak German. There’s a medieval castle on a hill above town. Harmony shakes her head and appears disappointed.

  She says, “Not here, either.” She lays her hand on my arm and we move through space with only her will power driving us.

  “What is this place?” I ask as we stand at the edge of a clearing in the darkest, greenest forest I’ve ever seen. Leafy vines climb the trunks of trees so tall the tops can’t be seen. In the center of the clearing is an odd assortment of booths and wagons. It’s a carnival, but all of the amusements have the appearance of being from another century. There’s nothing modern in sight and it’s captivating, somewhat charming, and not a little bizarre.

  “We’re here to find someone,” she says in a hushed tone.

  We stay out of sight, which makes me wonder who this group of colorful people are.

  “Who is it?”

  “You’ll know him when you see him.” She keeps her eyes trained on the mini
ature carnival twenty-five yards away.

  “I’m going back to Jules,” I say. “It’s been fun, but I’ve had enough.”

  “Not yet, Nathaniel.” She places her long graceful fingers on my sleeve. “Please, stay.”

  “I don’t see the point.” I pull my arm back.

  “You will shortly.” She points at a canvas tent and two men standing in front of it.

  The strong man. The sign over his booth is a painting of him lifting a man over his head. The man being lifted is also a sword swallower, and apparently a snake charmer, as the painting has a snake on the sword, which is halfway down the horizontal man’s throat. There’s a snake curled around the leg of the strong man as well, slithering up his side.

  Then I see him performing. He’s not bench pressing the sword swallowing snake charmer, but he is wrestling a red and black giant of a man. They’re in the open lot next to his tent, wrestling on top of a large rug. The snake charmer is standing at the corner of the booth, an enormous boa constrictor wrapped around his shoulders and both man and snake appear to be eyeballing the competition. The giant wears a black diaper, similar to what a sumo wrestler might wear, and nothing else. His body appears to be painted all over, but since the paint isn’t coming off with the groping of skin, I decide the giant must be tattooed all over with red and black ink. The giant is at least seven or eight inches taller and far wider than the strong man, but he is clearly losing the match.

  The strong man is unearthly fast as he grabs the giant’s leg, muscles his shoulder into the man’s solar plexus, and lands on top of him as they crash backward.

  “Recognize him?” Harmony asks.

  “Never seen him before.”

  “Remind you of anyone?”

  I keep staring. The strong man attempts to pin the giant’s shoulders, but the giant hasn’t given up yet. He lurches upward and manages to throw our man off, but again, the strong man is too fast for someone his size. He’s a blur as he rises, turns, and wraps an arm around the giant’s neck. Already on his knees and now in a strangle hold, the giant throws his weight backward in an attempt to smash the strong man to the ground, but the man holds on and keeps squeezing. The crowd gasps and moves a collective step backward as the giant’s eyes bulge from strangulation. Without air, the giant man passes out and collapses to the rug. The strong man gives a last squeeze and rises to his feet in triumph. Without acknowledging his audience, he peers disgusted at his opponent for a long second, then walks over to his tent and booth.