Six Killer Bodies (17 page)

Michael?”

He frowned. “No. Uniforms are canvasing every motel and

hotel in the city, but nothing so far.”

“He has to be living somewhere.”

“We already know he can break into a house. Maybe he’s

living in one of the thousands of empty ones that are up

for sale in the metro area.”

She winced. “That narrows it down.”

“Exactly.” Then he winked. “Don’t worry. We’l get him.”

She stepped up to slide his tie around and fashion a knot.

He let her. “Sleeping at the office again?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Rumor has it you’ve been sleeping elsewhere lately.”

His mouth twitched. “Don’t believe everything you hear.

How are your sleeping arrangements these days?”

“Separate,” she murmured.

“Really? When you didn’t answer your phone last night, I

wondered if Peter had accidentally stumbled into your

bedroom instead of the butler’s pantry, looking for Grey

Poupon.”

She tightened the knot with a bit more force than

necessary.

He grunted, then grinned and flipped down his shirt col ar.

“Good morning,” a honeyed voice sounded behind

Carlotta.

She turned her head to see the exotic Maria Marquez

heading toward them, ducking a tea bag into a mug. She

looked amazing in an off-white pantsuit and peach-colored

silk blouse.

“Good morning,” Carlotta offered, stifling a stab of envy

that the woman was so comfortable in Jack’s world.

“Another meeting with the state guys about The Charmed

Kil er case?” Maria asked.

“Right,” Carlotta said. “I’m hoping they’l eventual y catch

the right guy.”

“I’m sorry, Carlotta, but we have the right guy,” Maria

said, then sipped from her mug.

“Because Coop fits your profile?” Carlotta crossed her

arms. “I’d like to see this bul etproof profile you came up

with, Detective.”

Jack cleared his throat. “That’s not going to happen.” He

nodded toward the hallway that led to the interview

rooms. “Come on, Carlotta, I’l take you back.”

Carlotta frowned, but fol owed him. “Whose side are you

on?”

“We’re all on the same side. We all want justice for the

victims. Maria, too.”

“I think she wants to make a name for herself.”

“Funny, she says the same thing about you.”

Carlotta glared. “So, what do you think the state guys want

to talk to me about?”

“I don’t know. But I wil get to listen in this time.”

“They’re letting you work on the case again?”

“I’m growing on them,” Jack said. “At least they’re keeping

me more informed. Right now, though, I’m focused on

finding Lane and trying to figure out who planted the

explosive under your car.”

“Do you still think they’re related?”

“I hope so. It would be nice to kil a flock of birds with one

stone.” He stopped in front of an interview room. “Don’t

let them rattle you, darlin’. Remember, you can leave

anytime you want to.” He rapped on the door and opened

it. “Carlotta Wren is here at your request,” he said, then

stepped aside to let her walk into the interview room.

GBI Agent Wick, tall and slender, had a grim smile for

Carlotta. “Good to see you, Ms. Wren.” His teeth were

white against mahogany skin.

She nodded, then turned toward Agent Green, a stocky

white guy who seemed to be relegated to the position of

stenographer. “Hel o, gentlemen.” The last time she’d

seen them had been when they’d arrested Coop right in

front of her at Neiman’s.

“Have a seat,” Wick offered.

She took the seat across the table from them. They

opened one folder, then another, murmuring back and

forth between themselves for a few seconds. Final y, Wick

looked up.

“How are you, Ms. Wren?”

“Better than the last time you saw me.”

“Yes, wel , that was an unfortunate scene, but necessary. I

understand you visited our suspect—” He checked his

notes. “Friday.”

“That’s right.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Why don’t you listen to the tape?”

He smiled. “Actually, we have. I was just seeing if you

would lie to us…again.”

At the reference to her failed polygraph, she shifted in her

chair.

Wick gestured to Green, who handed him a printout.

“Speaking of which, we have the polygraph examiner’s

report right here. Deception indicated on questions six,

seven, and nine,” he read, then looked up. “Question six

was about having a romantic relationship with Detective

Terry.”

She didn’t respond.

“You denied having one.”

“I remember what I said.”

“Would you like to change your answer?”

“No. Detective Terry and I don’t have a romantic

relationship.” With Jack, it was all about sex.

The agent frowned. “Okay, moving on. Question seven—

when asked if you knew the whereabouts of your father,

you said no.”

“Correct.”

“But according to this report, you were lying.”

She shrugged. “I guess I thought of the postcards we’ve

received over the years from different states. But I don’t

know where Randolph is now. If I did, believe me, I’d drag

him back to Atlanta myself.”

Wick’s eyebrows rose. “Stil nursing animosity toward your

parents for abandoning you and your brother?”

“Yes,” she admitted. In fact, she could feel her blood

pressure rising now. When Randolph disappeared, he’d

put her in the position of having to defend him, of having

to make excuses for him. Wesley had made up outlandish

stories of international espionage to explain away their

father’s absence, but she hadn’t possessed the

imagination and optimism of a nine-year-old. Ten years

later, she was stil covering for Randolph.

“But you’re stil claiming you don’t know where your

father is.”

Inside, she kicked and screamed. “That’s right.”

Wick sighed noisily, then looked back to his report.

“Question nine was about the identity of the person

known as The Charmed Kil er. You said you didn’t know

who had committed these crimes, but the polygraph

indicates that you do.” He dropped the report and looked

at her expectantly.

“I believe Michael Lane is responsible,” she said. “But I

responded no because I’m not positive.”

Wick leaned toward his partner. “I think she knows her

buddy Cooper Craft is responsible.”

Under the table Carlotta clasped her hands. “Coop isn’t a

monster.”

“But he’s a drunk.” Wick continued talking to Green, as if

they were having a private conversation. “A drunk who put

a woman in a body bag while she was stil alive.”

Her throat convulsed. “He paid for his mistake.”

“Yeah, he lost everything—his title, his job, and his ability

to practice medicine. That would really work on a man,

make him crazy…maybe even homicidal.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. Coop was happy with

his life.”

“He got lonely,” Wick said to Green, ignoring her. “But

women aren’t exactly clamoring to go out with a guy who

spends more time with dead women than live ones, you

know what I mean?”

Green nodded, absorbed in the story.

Carlotta sighed. “Is this going somewhere? I thought I was

here to help you get to the bottom of these murders.”

“Hang on, I’m getting to the best part,” Wick said. “So Dr.

Craft meets a woman and falls head over heels for her.

But, not surprisingly, the woman doesn’t feel the same

about him. So, he starts to obsess over her…and he back-

slides into the bottle…and then he starts to hate her.”

Green’s eyes grew larger. “And then what?”

Wick frowned at his partner. “And then he decides if he

can’t kil her, he’l kil someone else—another

woman…and then another…and then another.”

Wick looked back to Carlotta. “Now what do you think of

my story?”

“I think you’ve been spending a lot of time with our

resident profiler.”

“So would you be surprised to learn that Craft had a

picture of you on his refrigerator?”

She hesitated, realizing how that must look. “I gave him

that picture. And I saw it on his fridge when I was at his

place. But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure he had

other pictures of friends around his place.”

Wick shook his head. “Nope. Just the one of you. Did Dr.

Craft ever make any romantic overtures toward you?”

Under the table, Carlotta wiped her wet palms on her

slacks. “Coop let me know that he was interested in me

romantically, yes.”

“So the two of you were involved?”

“No, we only worked together occasionally. And I went on

a road trip with Coop a few weeks ago to pick up a VIP

body.”

“Oh?”

“My brother Wesley went with us.”

“Let me be more specific. Did you and Craft ever sleep

together?”

Carlotta slid her gaze to the mirrored window, half

wondering if Jack had put Wick up to asking that particular

question. “It’s no one’s business, but no, Coop and I were

never intimate. I consider him to be a good friend.”

“So you rejected him?”

She wet her lips. “That’s not what I said. It was a mutual

agreement that we wouldn’t pursue a romantic

relationship. There were no harsh words, there was no

argument.”

“Did he stalk you?”

“What? No!” Carlotta leaned forward. “But guess who is

stalking me, Agent Wick? Michael Lane. He’s the man you

should be looking for.”

“The good men and women of the Atlanta Police

Department are handling that case.”

“It’s the same case,” she said through gritted teeth.

Agent Wick studied her. “You should know that we’ve

been able to prove Dr. Craft frequented the same places as

many of the victims. He purchased books from the

bookstore where Shawna Whitt worked, he belonged to

the same gym as Cheryl Meriwether, he shopped at the

grocery store where Marna Col ins shopped. And from

your statement, we know he knew where the prostitute

Pam Witcomb hung out.” The man angled his head at her.

“What do you have to say about that?”

Still trying to process the information, Carlotta swallowed

hard. “Coincidence.”

The agent’s expression hardened. “Ms. Wren, we found

charms in Dr. Craft’s home.”

Panic blipped in her stomach. “Charms?”

“All kinds of charms. Now why would a single adult man

have a stash of charms?”

Her mind raced, then her shoulders dropped in relief.

“They’re for his dioramas.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“It’s Coop’s hobby. He recreates scenes in miniature in

cigar boxes. He uses charms as pieces in the scenes. He

built one for June Moody, the owner of Moody’s Cigar Bar.

It’s a complete replica of her store in one little box. It’s

amazing.”

Wick exchanged a glance with Green. “Sounds like a very

strange hobby.”

Green nodded in agreement.

“He said it helped him quit drinking, that it kept his hands

busy,” Carlotta said. “When I was at his place, he showed

me the one he’s working on now—it’s a miniature library.”

“And the charms found in the mouths of the last two

victims were books. Now that is quite a coincidence.”

When she realized she was only reinforcing Wick’s case,

frustration sent her lunging to her feet. “Coop didn’t do

this. I don’t care what you found in his home, or what kind

of DNA you have.”

The man leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands

behind his head. “Did I say we had DNA?”

She frowned. “I have my sources, too, Agent. And DNA can

be planted.”

The agent laughed. “So…you think someone framed him?”

Her chin went up. “Maybe. Or maybe you quit looking

when you came across a suspect who was easy to

apprehend.”

“Back to Michael Lane again?”

Carlotta averted her gaze, then turned and walked away

from the two men, away from the mirrored window. They

were obviously unconvinced that Michael was their man.

She was torn. She had information about Coop’s

connection to the first victim that would further cement

him in the minds of the GBI agents as The Charmed Kil er.

On the other hand, she had a piece of information that

could send them off on another tangent that might buy

Coop a little time. She rubbed the back of her neck to

combat the tension vibrating through her body. The fact

that she was hesitant to divulge something distasteful her

father had done made her even more angry toward

Randolph. He didn’t deserve her loyalty.

“Ms. Wren, is there something you’d like to share?”

Randolph hadn’t been there for her for the past ten years,

but he could be useful to her—useful to someone who

meant a great deal to her—right now, at this moment.

She turned to face the agents. “You asked me in the last

interview if I knew that the second victim, Alicia Sil s,

worked in the same office building as my father. Or if I’d

ever heard Randolph mention her name.”

Wick dropped his hands—she had his attention. “And you

said no.”

She nodded. “Right. And that was the truth. But since