Lie Down in Green Pastures
Read Lie Down in Green Pastures Online
Authors: Debbie Viguie
Lie Down in Green Pastures
Other Books by the Author
The Lord Is My Shepherd,
Book One in The Psalm 23 Mysteries
I Shall Not Want,
Book Two in The Psalm 23 Mysteries
LIE DOWN IN
GREEN PASTURES
The Psalm 23 Mysteries
Debbie Viguié
Copyright © 2011 by Debbie Viguié
ISBN-13: 978-1-4267-0191-7
Published by Abingdon Press, P.O. Box 801, Nashville, TN 37202
www.abingdonpress.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, posted on any website, or transmitted in any form or by any means—digital, electronic, scanning, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in printed reviews and articles.
The persons and events portrayed in this work of fiction are the creations of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All Scripture quotations are from the King James or Authorized version of the Bible.
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, Colorado, 80920
www.alivecommunications.com
Cover design by Anderson Design Group, Nashville, TN
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Viguié, Debbie.
Lie down in green pastures / Debbie Viguié.
p. cm. — (The Psalm 23 mysteries ; bk. 3)
ISBN 978-1-4267-0191-7 (trade pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Murder—Investigation—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3622.I485L54 2011
813'.6—dc22
2010053261
Printed in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 / 16 15 14 13 12 11
To Marissa Smeyne
for all your help and support
Acknowledgments
First and foremost I have to thank my father, Richard Reynolds, for his help and his expertise. Thank you to my mom, Barbara Reynolds, for reading and offering honest critiques at every step of the way. As always, thank you to my fantastic editor, Barbara Scott, for her wisdom, insight, and humor. Thank you to Greta Viguié for her enthusiasm and support for this series. Thank you to Nancy Holder, an amazing friend and inspiration, for all of her support. I'd also like to thank Ann Liotta, Juliette Cutts, Calliope Collacott, and Scott Viguié.
Table of Contents
1
J
EREMIAH SILVERMAN NEVER QUITE KNEW WHAT TO DO WITH HIMSELF ON Thursdays. Thursdays were technically the second day in the week that he had off. Sundays were the first. He hadn't had two consecutive days offsince he became rabbi of a synagogue.He had toyed with trying to take offMondays, but too much seemed to happen on that day. So he took offThursdays, but usually ended up going in to work at some point anyway. His secretary, Marie, often accused him of being a workaholic. It wasn't true, but there was no telling her that.
At ten in the morning he found himself driving down the street toward the synagogue. He slid into the left-hand lane, preparing to turn into the driveway just past First Shepherd, the church next door.
Seeing no oncoming traffic, he began to make his turn. The hair on the back of his neck raised suddenly, and he twisted his head around just in time to see a car as it slammed into him from behind.
Jeremiah's black Mustang skidded, sliding in a circle as the sickening crunch of metal filled his ears. He saw the face of the man in the other car, eyes frozen wide, head tilted.
That man
is already dead,
he realized as his car twisted and then flipped upside down onto the lawn outside the church.
In a moment it was over. Carefully Jeremiah unlatched his seat belt and eased himself onto the ceiling. He kicked the remaining glass out of his side window and maneuvered himself out, cutting his leg on a piece of jagged glass as he did so. He collapsed onto the grass, felt it tickling his cheek, and took several deep breaths. He straightened slowly, checking each bone and muscle as he did. Everything seemed to be okay despite the fact that he had been in a terrible position when struck.
A shadow fell over him. He glanced up, squinting.
Cindy Preston stood there, her long, light brown hair flying around her face, out of breath. Her eyes were wide in surprise."What are you doing here?"
It seemed like a ridiculous question, as if the answer should be self-evident.
"Recovering from an accident."
"Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so. What are
you
doing here?"
She blinked rapidly and then the corners of her mouth turned up. "I guess I'm here to rescue you."
He wanted so badly to laugh. The thought was ludicrous, especially given all the times he had saved her. Still, there was a dead man in the other car and he thought better of expressing himself. "Thank you," he said instead.
"Ironic, huh?"
"Yes, I guess that is the word," he answered as he struggled to sit up.
She dropped down next to him and put an arm behind his back to help support it.
"The other driver is dead."
"Dead?" she asked, jerking and turning pale. "How do you know?" She glanced anxiously toward the other car and for a moment he thought she was going to leave him to go check.
"I saw his face through the windshield right after he hit me.He was dead before it happened. I'm sure of it."
"A dead man crashed into you?"
"Yes."
"A dead man was driving that car?"
"That's what I said."
She hit a button on the cell phone that she had been clutching in her left hand and raised it to her ear. "Hi, Mark. It's Cindy. There's been an accident in front of the church and I think the one driver was dead before it happened."
She listened for a moment and then continued. "No, I don't know what killed him."
Another pause. "All right, we'll be here."
She hung up.
"You didn't just call Detective Walters, did you?" Jeremiah asked with a groan.
"I did," she said, raising her chin defiantly. "And what's wrong with that?"
"There hasn't been a murder."
"You don't know that."
"The guy probably had a heart attack while driving. It happens."
"And what if it didn't happen today?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to take the chance that this guy was murdered and the killer wouldn't be caught because it seemed like an accident?"
Actually he would rather a killer walk free than expose himself or his synagogue to the scrutiny of the police any more than necessary. He squeezed his eyes closed. There was no way he could explain that to Cindy. No easy way, at least. No, whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to play the helpless victim this time and hope that it all went away quickly.
"Can you help me stand up?"
"Not until a paramedic looks you over. Mark's calling an ambulance."
"I'm fine."
"Let's leave that decision to the professionals."
He acquiesced and lay slowly back down on the grass, staring up at the blue of the sky. It was March and the weather was starting to get a little warmer. A month before, it would have been too cold to lie on the grass waiting. It got colder in Southern California during the winter than it had in Israel.
He heard the sirens of the ambulance and a moment later he heard Cindy gasp.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I know him," she said.
He twisted his head slowly to the side and saw that she was staring through the windshield of the car that had hit his.
"Who is he?"
"It's Dr. Tanner. He used to be a member here."
Of course he did, because that's my luck,
Jeremiah thought. As the siren grew louder he began to feel some of the aches and pains caused by the accident. The shock was wearing offand he could already tell he was going to be stiffin the morning.
I'm getting soft, weak,
he thought, closing his eyes.
"You're slipping," a male voice said.
Jeremiah opened his eyes and saw Detective Mark Walters staring down at him. "You think so?"
"I do. You're supposed to be the one playing good Samaritan, not her." He nodded toward Cindy.
Actually she's a Gentile,
Jeremiah wanted to say, but he was just grateful Mark wasn't calling him Samaritan for once. "I must be getting old," he said instead.
Mark snorted derisively, then got down on one knee."Seriously, you okay?"
"I'll live," Jeremiah said. "I just won't be happy about it in the morning."
A fleeting smile crossed the detective's face before he stood and turned toward the other car. "Let's see what we've got."
