She inhaled deeply, then gave him the best grin she could manage.
“That’s better,” he said.
“Call me if you need anything at all.”
“Thanks for coming,” he said, then returned the receiver to the cradle.
Realizing that he hadn’t responded to her offer of help, she hung up the phone on her side and watched with growing panic as he was handcuffed and led away. The shuffling of his shackled feet sickened her. She choked back a sob.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the guard asked kindly.
She covered her mouth and nodded, then followed the man blindly back to the lobby area where she retrieved her purse. When she emerged, she looked up and nearly swallowed her tongue.
Jack Terry was standing in the lobby, leaning on the counter talking to Officer McHenry.
He, on the other hand, did not seem surprised to see her. He straightened and crossed his arms. “Officer McHenry, is this the fiancée?”
The woman looked at Carlotta. “Sorry, girl. Detective Terry from the midtown precinct is set up to receive a text when Craft receives visitors.”
“Ms. Wren and I are acquainted,” Jack said dryly. “Carlotta, can I have a word with you?”
“Actually, I’m in a hurry,” she said, moving toward the door.
“Actually, that wasn’t a question,” Jack said, walking up next to her. He grasped her elbow and ushered her outside.
“Jack, you’re manhandling me!”
“You’re lucky I don’t shoot you,” he said in a lethal tone, shepherding her to his sedan sitting at the end of the walk. “I told you to stay out of this.”
Detective Maria Marquez stood next to the car, every inch of her tall, curvy frame oozing authority and sexuality. With luxurious hair the color of caramels, luminous skin the color of toffee, and enormous almond-shaped eyes, the woman looked utterly edible. Carlotta slid Jack a sideways glance, wondering if he’d taken a nibble yet. He was a red-blooded male, and Maria had intimated to Carlotta that she was attracted to Jack, although she wasn’t looking for a liaison with a coworker. Carlotta wondered, though, if Maria was skittish for other reasons. Once she had overheard Maria on the phone talking to someone in an angry tone, asking them not to call her again. Maria had moved to Atlanta from Chicago “for a change” she’d said. She was a profiler for the Atlanta Police Department and had been assisting the GBI in the investigation of The Charmed Killer while Jack had been banished because of his relationship to Carlotta and her family.
Carlotta was sure that Maria’s profiling had led to Coop’s arrest. She frowned at the woman, but Maria seemed amused to see her. “In trouble again, Carlotta?”
It didn’t help that the woman’s melodic voice was like a snake charmer’s flute.
Carlotta yanked her arm out of Jack’s grasp. “I have a right to see Coop!”
A couple of passersby looked their way.
Jack glowered at Carlotta. “How about we not do this in public? What are you driving these days? Did Ashford buy you a pink Lamborghini?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. I’m getting a rental this evening. Peter dropped me off at MARTA and I rode to Underground, then walked here.”
“Which means you didn’t tell him where you were headed.”
She pressed her lips together.
Jack sighed. “Well, at least I’m not the only person you lie to.”
“I didn’t lie. If Peter had asked me if I was headed to the city detention, I would’ve said yes.” Probably.
“Get in the car,” Jack said. “We’ll take you to work.”
“I’m going by the townhouse first.”
“Why?”
“If you must know, Wesley wants to show me the new security system.”
“Okay, we’ll take you there.”
She climbed into the back of the sedan, feeling morose. When Jack and Maria assumed their positions in the front, Carlotta crossed her arms. “Why are you so angry that I came to see Coop?”
Jack turned around in his seat. “Did you and Coop get engaged and not tell anyone?”
“No,” she mumbled.
“Then you lied your way in to see him. How do you think that’s going to look to the GBI?”
“I don’t care.”
Maria turned around. “Carlotta, if you care about Cooper, you’ll listen to Jack. Stay out of this investigation.”
Carlotta’s acidic retort was cut short by a pointed look from Jack. Instead she sat back in a huff, stewing.
After they’d ridden in silence for a few minutes, Jack made eye contact through the rearview mirror. “So…how did Coop look to you?” he asked quietly.
Carlotta hardened her jaw. “Not good.”
She averted her gaze and was quiet for the remainder of the ride. Jack and Maria talked in low tones, their heads and bodies leaning in. At one point Maria reached over to pick lint off Jack’s jacket—the man had certainly started dressing better since Maria had been assigned as his partner. And he didn’t seem to mind the extra attention. In fact, Carlotta had to tap his shoulder after he missed the turn to the townhouse she shared with Wesley.
“Sorry,” Jack offered. “I just assumed my car knew the way since it’s been to your house so many times on distress calls.”
“Very funny.” But it was true. Since she’d first met Jack when he’d arrested Wesley for hacking into the city computer, their lives had crossed and folded back onto each other’s several times.
He pulled into the driveway behind Hannah’s van. Wesley’s bicycle sat nearby, and Chance’s BMW.
“You having a party?” Jack asked.
“Yes. And you’re not invited.” She unbuckled the seat belt and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Carlotta.”
She stopped and looked back to see Jack’s meaty finger wagging at her. “Stay away from this investigation. Let the professionals handle it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, feigning ignorance.
“I mean it, Carlotta. Behave.”
“Why, Jack, I’m a Southern lady. Of course I’ll behave. Toodles.”
The sound of his snort resounded in her ears as she swung out of the car and slammed the door.
6
Carlotta bounded up to the townhouse, amazed at how much she missed the place. There really was no place like home.
“Carlotta?”
At the sound of Mrs. Winningham’s voice, she stopped and swallowed a groan. She looked up to the see her neighbor standing at the fence, wearing a big sun hat and a bigger frown. “Hi, Mrs. Winningham.”
“We need to talk. You have a serious problem.”
Carlotta laughed. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Mrs. Winningham.”
“Fire ants.”
“Beg your pardon?”
Her neighbor gestured to the Wren’s yard. It was the bane of the woman’s existence because crabgrass and dandelions had all but choked out the more desirable blue-green fescue. “See those two piles of sand over there and there? You have fire ants.”
“I guess that’s a bad thing?” Carlotta asked.
“Have you ever been bitten by a fire ant?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Well, it’s not pretty.” The woman shook her finger. “If you don’t get rid of them, they’ll spread to my yard, and I can’t risk Toofers getting into their nest. They’d eat him alive.”
While Carlotta wasn’t crazy about the tuft-headed, snarling little beast, she agreed that death by fire ants would be a painful way for the mutt to go. “I’ll talk to Wesley about it,” Carlotta promised.
“Did you hear the police arrested The Charmed Killer?”
Carlotta’s throat convulsed. “I heard that an arrest had been made.”
“Finally I can sleep at night.”
“That’s good, Mrs. Winningham.” Would everyone who’d read of Coop’s arrest assume he was guilty? Of course they would. If she did
n’t know Coop, she would, too. After all, he was a former medical examiner who worked around death, and had been demoted to a body mover because of a drinking problem. It had all the makings of a movie of the week. She moved toward the house. “Take care, Mrs. Winningham.”
“Don’t forget about the ants!”
She jogged up the stairs to the door and twisted the knob. When she pushed the door open, a faint beep, beep sounded. The sound of voices in the living room stopped. Wesley, Hannah and Chance all looked her way.
“The sensor on the door works,” Wes said. “Where’ve you been? I was getting ready to call.”
“Sorry. I went to see Coop.”
From the couch, Hannah pushed to her feet. “How is he?”
Chance looked stricken at Hannah’s interest. Carlotta winced—she still had to process the idea of Hannah and Fat Chance as a couple. “Coop was calm.” She turned to Wes. “Except when I mentioned that you’d followed him at the hospital. Then he was furious.”
Wes explained to Hannah how he’d followed Coop to the office of a neurologist.
Hannah paled. “Something’s wrong with him?”
“He brushed it off,” Carlotta said, pushing her hair back from her face. “He insisted it had nothing to do with any of this.”
“And you believe him?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know. But since he was so agitated and our conversation was probably being recorded, I didn’t want to force the issue.”
“Has he talked to Liz?” Wesley asked.
“She’s going to handle the arraignment on Monday.”
Chance scratched his head. “I don’t understand what we’re all doing here.”
Hannah frowned at him. “We’re going to help prove that Coop didn’t commit these murders.”
“Isn’t that what the police are for?” Chance asked.
“The police have already made up their minds,” Wes offered.
“And what if the guy is guilty?”
“He isn’t,” the rest of them chorused.
Chance’s eyebrows went up. “And you know this how?”
Hannah scoffed. “Because some things you just know about some people.” She gave Carlotta a meaningful look, and Carlotta realized Hannah was referring to Carlotta’s support earlier in the week. Hannah had been accused of stealing purses at Bedford Manor Country Club events where she’d sometimes worked as a server. Carlotta had defended her friend to the victims who had been quick to judge Hannah because of her goth makeup and clothing. And piercings. And tattoos.
Carlotta smiled, then noticed all the holes in the drywall in the living room and beyond, in the hallway and the kitchen. She gasped. “Did the police do this when they processed the house for evidence?”
“No,” Wes said. “The holes are from the installation of the security system. You’re welcome,” he added dryly.
“No, I appreciate it,” she assured him, but her knees felt weak. “I just didn’t expect this much…destruction.” Between the damaged walls and the black splotches of fingerprint dust around light plates, door facings, and doorknobs, the place looked like a war zone.
“You wanted to repaint anyway,” Wes said. “I figured this would give us a reason to redo everything.”
She nodded, pursing her mouth. “You’re right. Now we don’t have a choice.”
“But we do have sensors on all the doors and windows.”
“I’m really impressed you did this all by yourself,” she said.
“Uh, Chance helped a little.”
Chance grinned up at Hannah. “Yeah, I helped.”
Hannah tweaked his chubby cheek. Carlotta threw up in her mouth a little. Quickly changing the subject, she pulled the notebook she’d been using to record details of the crimes out of her bag. “Let’s go in the kitchen to talk.”
“But it’s more comfortable here in the living room,” Wes said.
She frowned at him. “We can talk better at the table.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he followed her. In the kitchen, though, he kept looking toward the window over the sink. He was acting strange. As soon as this little pow-wow ended, she was going to talk to him about the drug test results.
“Okay,” Carlotta said, opening her book. “I’ve been keeping notes on everything that’s happened with The Charmed Killer case. I made copies for you, Wes, and for you, Hannah.”
“We’ll share,” Chance said happily.
Carlotta narrowed her eyes at him. “Anything we talk about is confidential.”
“I can keep my mouth shut,” he groused.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Hannah said to Carlotta, giving Chance a glare.
Carlotta passed around the copies. “I figure since we were on the scenes of most of the crimes, we’re in a good position to help figure out who’s behind these killings. Until we have something else to go on, I’m operating under the belief that it’s Michael Lane.” She held up a picture of Michael. “The body of the first victim, Shawna Whitt, was found about the same time he escaped from Northside Hospital.”
“Remind me how she was killed,” Hannah said, skimming through the notes.
“It looked like she’d died of natural causes, but before we moved the body, Coop found a charm in her mouth—a bird, like this one.” She pulled out a silver charm and set it in the middle of the table.
“Is that the charm?” Wes asked in alarm.
“No. I bought it from a kiosk in the mall.”
“Could be a chicken,” Hannah added.
“The Whitt woman’s cause of death was ruled natural causes,” Carlotta said, “and her body was cremated.”
“Natural?” Chance asked. “How did they explain the chicken charm in her mouth?”
Everyone was quiet for a few seconds. Finally, Wes said, “No one did.” He shot a glance toward the kitchen window.
“So Coop could’ve put it there himself?” Chance asked.
“No,” Hannah said firmly.
“I was there,” Carlotta said. “I saw him pull the charm out of the woman’s mouth. Now, what very few people know is that later, I found an entry Shawna Whitt made on a Web site set up for people who were charm fans. So, she was into charms, even though a bracelet wasn’t found in her home. She’d also asked for recommendations for online dating services.”
“So she could’ve met the creep there,” Hannah said.
Carlotta nodded. “Then we have the second victim, Alicia Sills.”
“Carlotta, Wes and I went to pick up her body,” Hannah said to Chance.
“How’d she die?”
“It looked as if she’d fallen from a stepladder and hit her head,” Carlotta offered. “But when we moved the body, a charm shaped like a cigar fell out of her mouth, like this one.” She dug the charm out of a baggie, then set it next to the chicken.
“The autopsy stated she died of blunt force trauma,” Wes supplied, “but the M.E. couldn’t determine if it was from the fall or if someone had hit her.” He glanced toward the window again, as if he was afraid someone would appear.
“Was Coop there?” Chance asked.
“No,” Wes said. “He called and asked me to do the pickup.”
“Did he give a reason?” Chance pressed.
Wes scratched his head. “I just remember him saying it would be better if I did it.”
Silence boomed around the table. Carlotta decided not to mention that Peter believed Randolph had had an affair with the woman years ago—not yet anyway.
She cleared her throat. “The third victim was Pam Witcomb, street name Pepper. She was stabbed in a room at the High Crest Motel.”
“Pepper?” Chance asked. “I know a prostitute named Pepper.”
Hannah glowered.
“Might be the same woman,” Carlotta said, although she found it hard to believe that Chance knew only one Pepper. “She hung out on Third Street and West Peachtree.”
“Dang,” Chance said. “I think I might have lost my virginity to her.”
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Carlotta gave him a tight smile. “Not relevant, but thanks for the image. Anyway, the charm in her mouth was a car. I don’t know the exact one, but let’s use this one for now.” She set the generic car charm with the others.
“How did you know Pepper hung out on Third and West Peachtree?” Chance asked Carlotta.
“I met her one night while I was waiting for Coop—” She stopped and swallowed. “To pick me up.”
“So Coop saw her, too?”
“I…suppose so. But they didn’t talk or anything.” Still, a disquieting sensation began to niggle at the back of her mind.
“What about the fourth victim?” Hannah asked quickly. “She was an assistant to the District Attorney, wasn’t she?”
“Right. Cheryl Meriwether. She was found shot to death in her home. The charm in her mouth was a gun.” She set a charm of a handgun on the table.
“Did Coop know this woman?” Chance asked.
Wesley shrugged and looked to Carlotta.
“Not that I know of,” she said. Although he had attended her memorial service….
“Since she worked in the D.A.’s office, he might have known her from…before,” Wesley said, his eyes darting back to the window.
“Before what?” Hannah asked.
“Coop made a mistake a few years back when he was the Chief Medical Examiner,” Carlotta said. “The story is that he was drinking and driving and came upon a car accident. He stopped to help and declared a woman at the scene dead.”
“Except she wasn’t dead,” Wes supplied. “And because she didn’t receive medical care right away, she almost did die. Coop lost his job.”
“Jack said he had to spend some time in jail,” Carlotta murmured.
“So maybe he knew this Meriwether chick from then,” Chance said.
“Maybe,” Carlotta agreed quietly, making more notes.
“What about the next victim?” Hannah pressed, sounding desperate.
Carlotta took a deep breath to clear her head. “Number five was Marna Collins. She died in her home of cyanide poisoning. The cop who was first on the scene told me there was no sign of forced entry, and that the M.E. pulled a handcuffs charm from her mouth. I don’t know if it looked like this one, but it’s the only one I could find.” She set the silver charm on the table.
6 Killer Bodies Page 4
