Fallen Angel by Wayne Stinnett

Fallen Angel by Wayne Stinnett

Author:Wayne Stinnett [Stinnett, Wayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Down Island Press, LLC
Published: 2016-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Arriving at a sprawling estate outside of Bluffton, South Carolina, the limousine slowed, waiting for the gates to swing open. Nick Cross’s home was large, to say the least. Nearly twenty thousand square feet on ten prime acres along the Colleton River, it had been in his family for years. However, it was Nick’s father who was still the legal owner. Depending on the day, he might or might not remember that fact. Nicholas Cross Senior hadn’t been in the ancestral home since Nick’s election. He’d been living in an upscale assisted living facility for the last two years, suffering Alzheimer’s.

The huge stone structure, with several guest cottages, was originally built by Nick’s second great-grandfather during Reconstruction. It had been remodeled and expanded many times, until it had reached its current palatial state.

Two of the home’s live-in staff were waiting at the massive stone entry, with its castle-like spired roof, as Nick got out of the car. “Good evening, Mister Nick,” the tall butler said as Nick approached.

The maid waiting with him was a new girl, and Nick couldn’t remember her name. “Is there any word from the authorities?” she asked. “We’ve all been so worried.”

“Nothing yet,” Nick replied to the woman before nodding at the butler and saying, “I’m flying down there tomorrow afternoon, Raymond. Please arrange for my baggage. Enough for a week.”

“Very good, sir,” Raymond said. “Shall I have dinner prepared?”

“Brandy in my study for now,” Nick replied, entering the two-story-high foyer, with its wide curved staircase to the second floor. “I’ll have dinner in an hour. Anything fresh.”

“Yes, sir,” Raymond responded, swinging open the large door. “I’ll send William to the fish market right away.”

Cross hurried through the foyer to the spacious main living room, its reddish paneling a throwback to another place and another time. Turning into a hallway to the right, he then entered his study. The rear-facing windows went from floor to ceiling, with French doors that opened onto a terrace overlooking the river on the back of the property. He closed the door behind him and strode to the French doors. Pushing them both open, he stepped out onto the patio and took a deep breath. The crickets and frogs had already begun their symphony, and the smell of the pluff mud told him he was home once more.

Turning, Nick went back inside and placed his briefcase on his desk. He then went to a small closet, where he hung up his coat and slid a panel in the wall to the side. Spinning the dial on the large safe, he opened it, a small light coming on inside.

Nick took several bundles of cash from the safe and went back to his desk, counting them as he placed each neatly inside the briefcase before going back for more. With twenty bundles in the briefcase, he closed and locked it, then put it inside the safe and locked it as well.

There was a knock on the door, and Nick said, “Enter.”

The door swung



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