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
Lie Down in Green Pastures
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.
1
JEREMIAH 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 off since he became rabbi of a synagogue.He had toyed with trying to take off Mondays, but too much seemed to happen on that day. So he took off Thursdays, 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
