Body Movers: 3 Men and a Body

by Stephanie Bond

  She grabbed her evening bag and stood a little unsteadily. The wine rushed to her head, and she was sore from sitting so long.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She assured him she was and, feeling his gaze on her, walked in the direction of the ladies’ room until she knew she was out of sight. Then she pivoted and went through the kitchen, the office and the storage room to the door that led outside.

  “Damn nonsmoking ordinances,” she muttered, pulling the contraband out of her bag.

  She had taken two heavenly drags off the cigarette when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. She shrank back into the shadows to hide, as she had before. A man walked into the light and she almost swallowed her cigarette. It was Matt Pearson. He seemed nervous, but not high. Loathing filled her chest. If the man had loved Kiki, he wouldn’t have gotten her hooked on heroin. He would’ve left her alone when she’d gotten away from him. He had loved her to death.

  Matt shifted from foot to foot and kept glancing around. He was standing about ten feet away, but didn’t notice Carlotta. She stood immobile, staring at the door she’d come out of, wondering if she could make it back without drawing attention. He was obviously waiting to score drugs.

  Then Matt’s head turned and she saw another man approaching, a big man. A finger of alarm trailed up her back, her body reacting even before her mind knew why. And then recognition hit her—it was the Ferragamo Shoes guy from the morgue!

  She swallowed a scream and backed up farther into the shadows. The two men started talking. She couldn’t hear every word, but Matt seemed agitated and the other man was trying to calm him down. Her mind raced at the implication of their connection—Matt Pearson was behind the other man trying to steal Kiki’s body. He’d given her drugs; she’d died. He’d needed to clean up the mess, get rid of the body. And now with his dealer and publicist being questioned, he was likely to be fingered as well.

  “Hey, do you smell that?” Ferragamo Shoes held up his hand.

  “What?” Matt said.

  “A cigarette burning.” The big man looked in her direction. “Is someone there?”

  She dropped the cigarette to extinguish it, and sparks flew everywhere.

  “There’s someone back there,” Matt said, and both men ran toward her. She bolted for the door, but the big guy caught her and spun her around.

  “You!” he said, then looked at Matt. “This is the broad from the morgue, one of the body haulers.”

  “Dude, she can identify you.”

  “Oh, no,” Carlotta said, shaking her head. “I didn’t see anything. I’m nearsighted. I’m just here having dinner. In fact, my dessert is waiting—”

  Her protest was cut off by a handkerchief stuffed in her mouth.

  Minus ten points.

  33

  Carlotta struggled against Ferragamo Shoes, but it was like dancing with a refrigerator. He pulled her arms behind her and bound her wrists with a cable tie. She managed to stomp on his instep.

  “Ow!” he bellowed.

  “Be quiet, man,” Matt Pearson said. “Somebody’s going to hear us.”

  “Take off her damn shoes,” the big man said.

  She resisted, but Matt slid them off and tossed them aside. He looked scared. “Get lost, man. I’ll handle this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Get out of here. Come back and get me in thirty minutes.”

  Ferragamo Shoes handed her over and jogged away.

  So she had less than thirty minutes to live. Regrets and missed opportunities flashed through her mind. There would be no husband, no children, no reunion with her parents. She thought of the brownies she didn’t eat because she was afraid they’d wind up on her thighs—all for nothing. Her thighs were goners like the rest of her.

  Carlotta tried to break free from Matt Pearson, but he held on, and her arm hurt like hell. The handkerchief was gagging her, sending tears streaming down her cheeks. Was he going to strangle her? Put her body in the Dumpster? All because she could link him to one of the men who’d tried to steal Kiki’s body.

  “Stop it! Be still!” he said, forcing her to sit on the ground. “Let me think!” He put his hands to his head and paced. “Jesus, how did everything get so messed up?”

  Every part of her ached and she had a feeling her arm might be broken again, but Carlotta marshaled her strength and focused on the door by the Dumpster—she had to get there. Peter was waiting inside, expecting her to come back and eat dessert. He wanted her to stay with him tonight. It was supposed to have been a perfect evening.

  She lunged to her feet and took off running, but Matt caught up with her and grabbed her arm. They went down together and pain rolled through Carlotta’s body like a tide. She curled up in a ball, moaning.

  “Okay, stop,” Matt said, sitting up. “I’m going to free your hands if you promise to hear me out.”

  She nodded, thinking that as long as he was talking, he wasn’t killing her. And as soon as he cut the cable tie, she was going for a right hook, if her numb hand would cooperate. He pulled out a knife and reached behind her. She could feel him sawing against her bonds.

  Suddenly, thankyouJesus, the door next to the Dumpster opened. Kayla Deerling appeared, along with a man that Carlotta recognized as Kayla’s fiancé. Carlotta screamed against the gag and flailed about, trying to stand. Matt pulled her back down.

  “They’re out here,” Kayla said, running toward them. “Get him!”

  The men struggled. Carlotta pulled against the sawed cable tie and snapped it. She yanked the handkerchief out of her mouth and struggled to her feet, falling into Kayla for support. After a clicking noise, Matt went limp. Carlotta realized that the other man had got him with his Taser gun, and she sagged against Kayla with relief.

  Until Kayla’s fiancé pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into Matt’s arm.

  “What’s going on?” Carlotta said. “What’s he doing?”

  “Matt? He’s dying of a heroin overdose.” The woman made a rueful noise. “And because you missed dessert, you’re going to have to share a similar fate.”

  “Are you mad?” Carlotta said, clawing at the woman. She ripped her collar, and then she saw it. Kayla was wearing Kiki’s diamond circle pendant.

  34

  Wesley pounded on Chance’s door. He was in a foul mood. He was out of OxyContin, but he’d promised himself that was that. He just hadn’t counted on wanting more so badly. Since the last pill, every little thing seemed to piss him off.

  Like the fact that Carlotta had gone to dinner with Peter. Was it because he had been pushing him at her, as Peter had asked him to do?

  Or, rather, had paid him to do?

  Wes couldn’t seem to do anything right these days. And now Coop hated him.

  He’d decided to ride over to Chance’s to tell him about Leonard. Not because he was hoping to score more pills.

  Except now that he was here, he was trying to think of a way to trick Hannah into going out with Chance, just once, for another bag of Oxy. This was a bad time for him to stop taking them. He was stressed over the situation with Coop and about possibly having to testify against The Carver’s son.

  Then a thought popped into his head. What if he went to The Carver and offered not to testify in return for erasing his debt?

  No, something about that logic seemed wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it at the moment. He felt as if someone were channel surfing in his head.

  He pounded on the door again.

  Chance opened it and waved him in. “Relax, man. Come the fuck in.”

  Chance was stoned, and Wesley wondered suddenly why his friend sold tons of drugs, but mostly smoked pot.

  Maybe the guy was smarter than he let on.

  Chance dropped into a chair, riveted to the TV, where a woman was going down on a guy in a movie that had obviously been recorded on a videocam.

  “Man, what’s with all the homespun porn lately?”

  “Dude,
I’m a distributor.”

  “Of porn? Since when?”

  “I’ve always done it, here and there. But there’s a bigger market now for the homemade stuff, and it’s usually pretty cheap to come by. I buy a master, and send it off to a shop in Korea. They take care of orders and fulfillment. I get a check every month.”

  “Why do people buy porn when they can get it free on the Internet?”

  Chance lifted his hands. “It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.”

  Wesley dropped into a chair and squinted. “This one doesn’t look that hot to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter, it’s that Kiki girl. I paid a hundred grand for it, but it’s going to make me a million.” He looked up. “Hey, didn’t you bring her body back from Florida?”

  “Yeah.” Wesley leaned in closer. “Who’s she with?”

  “I don’t know.” Chance picked up a piece of paper. “The e-mail says it’s some developer in Atlanta.” He laughed. “Poor schmuck. If he has a wife and kids, he won’t have them for long.”

  Wesley held his head. His mind was chugging away, and he knew he was missing something. He dialed Jack Terry’s number, and after a couple of rings, Jack answered.

  “Jack, it’s Wesley Wren.”

  “I’m on another call, I’ll get back to you.”

  “Dude, this might be important.”

  “Don’t ever call me dude. Tell me, quick.”

  “Kiki Deerling’s sister, the one who owns the restaurant, what’s her name?”

  Jack sighed. “Um, Kayla, I think.”

  “Isn’t she engaged?”

  “Yeah, to some developer. Why?”

  “I’m watching a sex tape with Kiki Deerling and her sister’s fiancé. You said you needed motive for murder. Is that enough?”

  Jack was quiet for a few seconds. “Ten times over. Where’s the tape?”

  “I got it. But you need to get to that restaurant. That Kayla chick invited Carlotta to eat there tonight because she was grateful for her help. Carlotta’s there with Peter right now.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “I’ll meet you there with the tape.” Wesley hung up the phone and ejected the DVD. “Dude, I need to borrow this.”

  “Will I get it back?”

  “Maybe. And it’ll be worth more.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’re stoned, you’re going nowhere.” Wesley punched in Coop’s number. After the fourth ring, he picked up. “Hello?”

  “It’s Wesley.”

  “This better be good.”

  “Carlotta might be in trouble.”

  There was a moment of silence, then, “I’m listening.”

  “I need for you to pick me up at a friend’s house.”

  “What’s the address?”

  Wesley gave it to him.

  “Be out front in three minutes.”

  35

  Carlotta stared at the pendant hanging around Kayla’s neck. “You killed your own sister. You strangled her and took the pendant. Why?”

  Kayla’s face twisted in hatred. “Because she had everything and it wasn’t enough! She had to have the only thing that was mine—Jamie.”

  Carlotta glanced at the woman’s fiancé. He looked guilty. And scared. But he was following Kayla’s lead. Was his obedience in exchange for her forgiveness?

  “Jamie gave her the pendant,” Carlotta guessed. “They were having an affair.”

  “He made a mistake, and we’ll work through this.”

  “It was you Naomi heard Kiki arguing with. You killed her and let everyone believe it was an asthma attack.”

  “That’s what everyone will go on believing,” Kayla said. “After you’re gone.”

  “But why kill Matt?”

  “Because the jerk saw me. He was high, but he remembers enough. And you—you should’ve just minded your own business.” The woman grabbed Carlotta by both arms in a steely grip, then looked at her fiancé. “Get her.”

  Jamie Reardon approached, Taser raised. A little flash of electricity jumped between contact probes. Carlotta screamed as if she’d already been zapped. With what little strength she had left, she swung her cast back into Kayla’s stomach, with enough force that the woman relaxed her grip. Carlotta wrenched her arm loose and raised the cast against the Taser.

  She heard the clicking noise, waiting for the pain to light up her arm and immobilize her body. Instead, she heard a thunk behind her.

  “Drop it,” Peter said.

  She turned to see him standing there in just enough light to reveal the handgun he held pointed directly at Jamie Reardon. Carlotta nearly wet her pants in abject relief. “Peter! Thank God.”

  “Get behind me,” he said, and she did. Kayla Deerling lay on the ground in a heap. Peter must have hit her with the gun.

  Reardon dropped the Taser and kept his hands in the air. “This wasn’t my idea.”

  “He injected Matt Pearson with heroin,” Carlotta said.

  Peter handed her his phone. “Call 911, and go inside.”

  She called for an ambulance, but the sound of a siren stopped her from going into the restaurant. A familiar dark sedan with a red light roared into the parking lot. Jack was out of the car practically before it was stopped, his gun drawn. “I got him covered, Peter. Put away your weapon.”

  Peter opened his jacket and put the pistol back into the shoulder holster he wore.

  “Where did you get that?” Carlotta asked, still incredulous.

  “At the pawnshop when I found your ring. Then I got a permit to carry it concealed.”

  “And you decided to wear it to dinner?”

  He put his arm around her shoulder. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t going out with you again unprepared.”

  She hugged him tightly. “Thank you for coming to look for me.”

  “I came to apologize for pressuring you. I figured you’d come out here to have a smoke.”

  “I don’t smoke…much.”

  He laughed. “Okay. And don’t worry. I’ll always come looking for you,” he murmured, and kissed her.

  When the kiss ended, Jack was standing there, frowning. “Would you like to give a statement now or later?”

  “Later,” they said in unison.

  “I’m taking her to the emergency room to get checked out,” Peter said.

  “Good idea. She’s been through a lot lately. First the broken arm, then a hit-and-run, and now this.”

  Peter frowned down at her. “What hit-and-run?”

  “Jack,” she said, neatly changing the subject, “how did you know I was in trouble?”

  “Wes called me. He saw a sex tape that Kiki made with her sister’s fiancé and put two and two together.”

  Two ambulances screamed into view, and Coop’s van was right behind them. Jack directed the EMTs to Matt Pearson and Kayla Deerling. Coop and Wesley jumped out and ran up to the scene.

  Wesley hugged her. “Are you all right, Sis?”

  She pulled back. “Thanks to Peter…and you…and Jack…and Coop.”

  “All right, we get the picture,” Jack said dryly. “It was a tag-team effort.”

  Paramedics revived Kayla Deerling, then loaded her into an ambulance. Jack sent a uniform with her. She glared at Carlotta until they closed the ambulance door. The group watched in tense silence as the EMTs worked on Matt Pearson, but at last one of them gave Jack a thumbs-up.

  Carlotta exhaled in relief. The man had problems, and she was furious with him for attacking her, but she didn’t want to see him dead.

  A crowd was gathering fast. An SUV pulled up and a wide-bodied man emerged.

  “Ferragamo Shoes!” she said, pointing.

  Jack frowned. “Who?”

  “It’s the other man guy who was trying to steal the body!”

  “The man who tried to steal my van at the restaurant,” Coop added.

  The big man rushed up to the ambulance where they were loading Matt Pearson on a gurney, an IV connected to his
arm. “What happened?”

  Jack intercepted him. “Who are you?”

  “Gregory Young, private investigator.” He held up his hands. “I have a .38 on my belt.”

  “I’ll take that,” Jack said, then reached inside the man’s coat and removed the weapon.

  “ID in my breast pocket.”

  Jack retrieved it, then put it back. “What’s your involvement here?”

  The P.I. gestured to Carlotta. “Didn’t Matt tell you?”

  Carlotta glared. “You and Matt bound and gagged me, then you left. He didn’t tell me anything.”

  When Jack made a move to cuff him, he said, “Hang on a minute. Let me explain.”

  “Make it fast, buddy. Right now you’re looking at assault, grand theft auto and tampering with a corpse.”

  “Matt Pearson came to me a few days ago, said he’d witnessed Kiki Deerling being strangled. But he’d been high on heroin at the time, and knew his testimony wouldn’t hold up in court. He needed an autopsy. When the M.E. in Boca Raton decided not to do one, he hired me to take the body for an independent autopsy.”

  “That’s a felony,” Jack said.

  “To prevent someone from getting away with murder. We were going to make sure the body got back to the family. Matt just wanted the truth to come out, that’s all.”

  “I’ll need for you to come down to the station to make a statement. And don’t even think about leaving town.”

  “No problem.” He looked at Carlotta. “I’m sorry we scared you, little lady, but we were just trying to keep you quiet until Matt could explain everything.”

  “I think he was trying,” she said to Jack, “before Kayla and her fiancé came out and attacked him.”

  “What happened to Matt?” the P.I. asked.

  “He was injected with heroin,” Jack said. “But the paramedics say he’s going to make it.”

  Carlotta gasped. “Jack, I just remembered. Kayla said something about me missing dessert.” She looked at Peter. “I’m afraid she might have put something in it.”

  “I’ll go check it out,” Jack said. “Peter, get her to the E.R. Do me a favor—put her in restraints once you get her there.”

  “I’ll get the car,” Peter said.

  “You might need these,” Coop said, holding up her shoes. “And is this your purse I found by the Dumpster?”