Fate at the Manor Read online

  Fate at the Manor

  J.R. Cowan

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue (One Year Later)

  Angelica

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Other Books by the Author:

  Also by the author under pen name, Jenna Richert

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by J.R. Cowan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of author. No part of this publication may be sold or hired, without written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person’s, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Prologue

  Andrew West moaned as he rolled to his side. Nausea overwhelmed him along with the smell of whiskey mixed with something else. Last night’s events were blurry in his mind. Agnes was there. In his dreams. All shimmery like an angel. She was an angel. His angel.

  Now she was gone. Had been for years. It didn’t stop the pain. The emptiness. The ache for her. Whiskey numbed the pain. It was his saving grace. At least until the good Lord decided to call him home. A call he prayed would come soon.

  He blinked against the rising sun then he saw it. Blood. Lots of it. Pooling around him. Was he bleeding? He sat up quickly. His old body protesting. Head spinning. The sun seemed to mock him as it peeked over the bluffs.

  Andrew wiped his brow. He felt something sticky on his face. Swiped at it again. Blood. His hands were covered in it. Where was it coming from? A quick once over his body and he came up with nothing. Nothing hurt except for his old bones. None of which appeared broken. He checked for cuts, scratches, a puncture wound, but everything was intact. So why were his jeans and flannel shirt soaked in blood?

  He tried to stand, but tripped over something. Groaning, he glanced at the culprit. A boot. Not his. His gaze went up to the owner and it all came back to him.

  Noah Kline.

  The nice police officer who’d offered to give him a ride home. The poor love-sick fool having one last drink as a bachelor before getting married. He too, a victim of Angelica. Marrying the love of his life at the Manor. Andrew had tried to warn him. Told him to run for the hills. Love caused nothin’ but heart ache. Wasn’t worth lovin’ em’ and losin’ em’.

  “Officer?” His hand shaking as he felt for a pulse. Noah’s skin was cool to the touch. Andrew knew he was gone even before checking. The amount of blood not to mention the axe sticking out from his head told him the poor boy was dead, but how? Had he done this? In a drunken rage? He’d never been a violent drunk. Not that he could remember anyway. Had Noah followed him up here?

  The bluffs were his sanctuary. No one ever came up here. He’d been hiding out here for years. A large cave on the back side of the bluffs had become his home since the night he’d set fire to the Manor. Gorgeous scenery, peace and quiet and the natural spring, his bathtub. That was all he needed. That and his whiskey.

  Trips to town were becoming more frequent since his large supply of alcohol from the Manor had dwindled down to nothing. That was the only thing he’d brought from the Manor besides he and Agnes’s wedding picture. The picture was all that remained now.

  Last night the urge for whiskey had overcome him. He’d been out for two days. Two long days. The shaking and sweating had become too much.

  Old Gus had cut him off after his fifth drink or was it his sixth. He couldn’t remember. Noah had dropped him off at the edge of the Manor property. Andrew warned him again about the curse of Angelica. His Aggie would pummel him for saying those words. She’d always said how magical Angelica was and he’d once believed that too until his beloved died.

  Noah laughed off his warning and offered to walk him home. Andrew had declined. Stumbled around until he’d made it to the bluffs then he must have passed out before reaching his cave. Everything was so fuzzy.

  A snap of a branch made him jump. He caught sight of something red. Movement in the woods had him blinking against the sun. Brown hair or was it sandy blond? His eyes weren’t what they used to be. “Hello?” His voice raspy from dehydration. Another snap, but no one came into view. “Hey! This man needs help!” Nothing. “Help!” he shouted again to no avail.

  Andrew stared at the dead man in front of him and knew what he had to do.

  “Lord, please forgive me.”

  Chapter 1

  “A man was murdered. Someone should write his story.” Charlotte glared at her agent, Justin Walker as he sat tapping his pen on his desk.

  “Someone, but not you.” He pushed her book proposal back across his desk.

  “And why not?” Charlotte cocked her head and crossed her arms over her silky blue blouse.

  “Because you write fiction. Not non-fiction.” Justin mimicked her action.

  “So.”

  “So, your fan base expects another romance fiction novel. Not some morbid murder mystery.” Justin pushed the proposal further away from him as if it were infected with a disease.

  “This is a romance novel along with some mystery. Holly Harper’s fiancé was murdered. It’s all over the news.”

  Justin shrugged.

  “Holly’s spent years thinking her fiancé left her at the altar. Now, she finds out he was really murdered. I want to interview her, get their love story then write about her life now and find out what really happened to Noah Kline.”

  Justin rolled his eyes.

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Lila says the Manor has been booked solid for months with amateur sleuths trying to solve the case before the police. My book…this book would only boost their business and-“

  “So, this is about saving your friend’s boyfriend’s beloved Manor?”

  “Of course not.” Charlotte threw her hands in the air. “This is about writing something of value. If it helps Lila and Luke great, but this is my chance to write something real. Something not created by my wild imagination. This is life. Love. Heartbreak. Pain. A second chance.”

  “A second chance?”

  “At love.” Charlotte whispered.

  “What are you talking about?” Justin shook his head and rubbed his grey eyes.

  “Holly. She’s spent twelve years pining for her lost love. What if solving Noah’s murder finally gives her closure? Closure so she can love again. Find her other soul mate.”

  “Her other soul mate? According to you and your forty-two best-selling ROMANCE novels, a person only has one soul mate. Holly found hers. Now he’s gone. Her love life is over.”

  Charlotte scowled and tucked her short black hair behind her ear. “My boo
ks are fiction. Not real life.”

  “And you think in real life a person has multiple soul mates? Get tired of one or one dies then you find your next one. The next person you are meant to spend your life with then when that doesn’t work out-“

  “This is ridiculous. You’re just trying to find every excuse not to pitch this book to the publisher.”

  “Of course, I am. It’s an awful proposal. No one is going to read this. We could have you write it under a pen name so when the whole thing bombs and it will, your brand, all our hard work doesn’t go up in flames, but it’s still pointless. The publishers want another Charlotte Clover book by Christmas. That’s less than a month away. You spit out “Winds of Change” in two weeks so I know you can do it.”

  “No.” Charlotte stood and smoothed the front of her black skirt.”

  “No?” Justin met her stance and ran a hand down the front of his red tie.

  “I won’t do it. I’m writing this book with or without your help.”

  Justin laughed. “You need my help. Not to mention we have a contract.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Our contract states you will represent me for all my fiction novels. If I write this book, it will be non-fiction. I can easily find another agent to back this book and pitch it to another publisher.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Justin clenched his jaw.

  “Watch me.” Charlotte snatched her proposal and purse from the desk and headed for the door.

  “We’re not done here.”

  “Oh, I think we are…unless you’ve had a change of heart.” Charlotte turned and fluttered her long eyelashes at him.

  “Yeah right.”

  “Then we’re done. I’ll be unavailable this weekend. Lila invited me to a single’s weekend at the Manor. Holly will be there, so I’ll be able to interview her and maybe catch myself a soul mate too.” Charlotte yanked open the door and disappeared.

  “You still owe Starfire Publishing a book by the end of the year. They gave you an advance…” Justin flopped back into his desk chair and ran a hand through his thick dark hair. That woman was going to be the death of him. She’d always been a pain in the butt. Why had he let his mother talk him into signing her?

  Speak of the devil.

  “I just saw Charlotte leave. How’d it go?” Kandy Walker closed the door behind her and flipped her gray hair over a slender shoulder as she sat down in the chair across from him. Her perfectly pressed dark suit clung to her thin frame as if it were made for her.

  Justin sighed and leaned back in his chair. “She wants to write a story about the murder at the Manor. Make it about that Holly Harper girl, who’s been all over the news pleading for any information about her deceased fiancé. Charlotte is going there to interview her this weekend. To Angelica’s Manor of Love. How ridiculous is that name? Manor of Love. An angel matchmaker. Really? Lila has lost her touch.

  “I think it’s cute. The love stories Lila posted on their website are incredible. There must be something to the magical fountain. Lila and Luke found love at the Manor. She deserves all the happiness in the world. Raising that precious boy on her own all these years. I’m glad she’s found the love of her life. I can only hope the same for you.”

  Justin rolled his eyes. He knew better than to discuss this topic with his mother. She was a hopeless romantic. Just like Charlotte. It was amazing his mother owned a successful agency. His dad was the one who’d started Walker Literary Agency over twenty-five years ago and his mom only took over after his passing ten years ago, but profits doubled this past year so the woman must know what she’s doing.

  “Go after her.”

  “Who?”

  “Charlotte. If she has an idea, run with it. It wouldn’t hurt us to branch out a bit. Try a little non-fiction.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  His mother shook her head and gave him a pointed look. “Charlotte is our number one author. She brings in more revenue for this company than any other author. We will not lose her to another agency because you’re being stubborn.”

  “Me? What about her? This is career suicide. Do you really want our family name tied to a disaster?” Justin scowled and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  His mother mimicked his actions. Her gray eyes meeting his with an icy glare. “If Charlotte believes in this project than we should too. Disaster or not, we need her.”

  Justin noticed a slight hitch of desperation in his mother’s voice. “Need her. Why? We’d be fine without her.” He knew it was a lie, but refused to give Charlotte the credit she deserves especially after what she did to him.

  A knock at the door interrupted them.

  “Come in.” Justin turned to find his assistant, Ashley peeking in. She pushed her black horned rimmed glasses up her nose. “Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to see this.” She held up a gossip magazine.

  He sighed and held out his hand.

  Ashley tiptoed in as if she were on a secret mission, which was hard to do with red heels on hardwood floors. Her long blond hair flowed down the back of her white blouse and danced just above her black skirt. She placed the magazine gently in his hand then dashed over to the wall by the door as if it were going to bite her.

  Justin was used to his assistant’s quirky mannerisms, so he focused on the magazine instead. “What the-“

  “What is it?” His mother reached for the magazine

  “Charlotte having lunch with Marcus Bean.”

  “Marcus Bean. Are you sure?” His mother took the magazine from his clinched fist and gasped. “There must be some mistake. Charlotte wouldn’t do this. Not to us. Not to you.”

  “Oh, I think she would.” Justin scoffed and ran a hand over his face.

  His mother’s face grew dark. “Justin Kyle Walker. Charlotte has been a family friend of ours since she was a baby. Her mother and I have been best friends since high school. Charlotte is like a daughter to me. She would not do this.” She jabbed a finger at the picture.

  “The proof is right there, mother.” He gestured to the magazine. “She’s stabbing us in the back with our former employee and my ex best friend. I bet he’s the agent who is going to pitch her new book.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Charlotte told me she would take her book elsewhere if I wouldn’t pitch it to the publishers.”

  “She was probably just trying to push your buttons. Charlotte wouldn’t betray us like this.” His mother tossed the magazine back on his desk.

  Justin smirked. “You can’t see it, can you?”

  “See what?”

  “Charlotte Clover has always been able to pull the wool over your eyes. You see her through rose colored glasses. She’s calculated. Stubborn. Cruel. Selfish. Charlotte only thinks about Charlotte. She doesn’t care who she takes down as long as she gets what she wants.”

  His mother sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re wrong, son. Charlotte is none of those things. Who shared her lunch with you every day for a month when that bully, Sam Kross kept stealing yours?”

  “She was the one who told the principal and I got beat up for a week before Sam’s mother got transferred and they moved.”

  “Her mother called the principal when she caught Charlotte sneaking extra food into her lunch box.”

  “Oh.” He’d blamed Charlotte all these years because he’d seen her talking with the principal right before Sam was called to the office.

  “And who went to prom with you when your girlfriend broke up with you right before prom night?”

  “Only because her boyfriend dumped her.”

  His mother shook her head. “She broke up with him.”

  That was news to him. Haden Geyer told the entire football team, he’d broken up with Charlotte because he was going pro and didn’t need any baggage going to college.

  “And who signed with you when you couldn’t get an author to save your behind?”

  He scoffed. “She didn’t choose m
e. You made me represent her.”

  “I suggested you read her work. I knew Charlotte would never survive in this world with all those literary sharks. She needed someone like you in her corner and I was right. Signing Charlotte was the best thing Walker Literary Agency has ever done.”

  “You suggested. She didn’t want me to be her agent.”

  His mother sighed. “Charlotte asked me if you would sign her because she knew you would work hard for her and not take advantage of her. I only talked to you on her behalf because she was afraid you would tell her ‘no’. Something about you hating her.”

  He snorted. Hate was an understatement. Memories of that night still haunted him, but he brushed them aside as his mother continued her Charlotte praise fest.

  “And she does all that volunteer work with the local women’s shelters and orphanages overseas. She even helped match Mrs. White’s son and daughter in law with a baby in Uganda. They are over there working on the adoption as we speak. Not to mention all the help she gives Lila with sweet Wyatt. Charlotte is anything but selfish and she would NEVER do this.” His mother stabbed a finger at the picture of Marcus and Charlotte.

  “Then why were they meeting?”

  “That’s for you to find out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His mother ignored him and turned to his assistant. “Ashley dear, please have Thomas gas up Justin’s car and get it ready for a little trip. Also clear his schedule for the weekend and call Cynthia and book him a room at the Manor.”

  Ashley nodded and hurried from the room.

  “You can’t be serious?”