Six Killer Bodies (23 page)

Maria asked me out.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Jack. I was

there on a date, you were there on a date. It’s what adults

do.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Your evening ended early,” she ventured, bemused that

he wasn’t sleeping over at Maria’s.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled thickly.

She frowned. “Are you eating?”

“Yeah, sorry. The portions at that restaurant wouldn’t

keep a damn cricket alive. I swung by The Varsity to get a

sack of burgers.”

She smiled. So the restaurant wasn’t his kind of place after

all. “Jack, I need to throw something out there regarding

the case. Mind you, I’m just thinking out loud.”

He sighed. “What now?”

“June Moody’s son, Mitchel , fits the profile Maria

created.”

He made an exasperated noise. “How do you know about

Marquez’s profile?”

“Never mind. Mitchel Moody is a career army man. He

arrived in town on leave from Hawaii just before the

murders began, and he’s stil here.”

“Is that all? He was in Atlanta when the kil ings began?

Because so were six mil ion other people.”

“He doesn’t have a good relationship with his mother,

which also matches the profile. And although he’s seeing

the Olympian Eva McCoy now, before she was available, I

saw footage of him on TV standing vigil in front of her

house with the paparazzi. Plus he’s been hanging out at

Moody’s, and two of the victims were found near there.”

She decided not to add that the “aloha” charm on her

bracelet inexplicably heightened her suspicion, as if a

cosmic finger was pointing to the man.

“But Michael Lane was at the cigar bar, too. And we know

he’s kil ed before. Have you changed your mind about

Lane being The Charmed Kil er?”

“No…I’ve just been thinking of other people…around

me…who give me the creeps.”

“There are others?”

“Dr. Frederick Lowenstein, he’s an OB/GYN at Piedmont. I

saw him at events on the same nights two of the victims

were kil ed—Alicia Sil s and Marna Col ins. And both

events were in close proximity to the crime scenes. He was

late arriving at one event, and the other one he left early.”

“He delivers babies, Carlotta. His schedule is probably

pretty frantic.”

“Humor me, Jack. Run a background check on him and

Mitchel Moody. What would it hurt?”

“Okay,” he mumbled between chewing. “Anything else

you need to tel me?”

Her pulse blipped. Had Rainie called Jack to tel him about

the fabricated piece in the paper meant to incite Michael

Lane? “Uh…not that I can think of. Thanks for offering to

help Peter out with the GBI.”

“Glad to help.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you know

that Coop is getting out of jail tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Don’t read too much into it. Just because the D.A. doesn’t

have a truckload of evidence doesn’t mean Coop is

innocent.”

“Jack, how many times do I have to tel you? Coop didn’t

do this.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “I’l say one thing. If I were

in trouble, I’d want you on my side.”

Warmth infused her chest. “I can’t imagine you being in

trouble, Jack.”

He grunted. “Just don’t go getting any ideas about trying

to see Coop, do you understand? It could make things

worse for him, especial y if the GBI is stil trying to prove

that he did these things because he’s hung up on you.”

“I’m just happy that he’l be free on bail.”

“Coop won’t be free on bail,” Jack corrected. “He’l be

under house arrest—big difference. He can’t leave his

home, his cal s wil be monitored, and with that GPS

bracelet on his ankle, the GBI wil know when he goes to

the john.”

“But he’l be home.”

“And if he has a stash of liquor on hand, he’l be able to

drink himself into oblivion.”

“But he’l be home,” she insisted.

“Yeah,” he said with a tired sigh. “Home sounds good right

now.”

She guessed that meant he was sleeping at the station

again. “Home sounds good to me, too,” she murmured,

suddenly missing her childish white bed and the sound of

Wesley whistling as he made breakfast in their cramped

kitchen.

“Hang in there, darlin’. I’m stil on the job.”

“I know. And I know deep down, Jack, you believe The

Charmed Kil er is stil out there. Otherwise, you’d have

given back my red panties,” she added lightly.

“You don’t think I’d give them back before you go to

Vegas, do you?”

“You’d rather I go without?”

A strangled noise sounded over the line. “I gotta go. My

burgers are getting cold.”

“Good night, Jack.”

20

Double vision, Wesley decided, wasn’t so bad if he could

look at Meg all the time. She sat on one foot at their

grubby shared workstation, bobbing her head to the music

on her iPod. The tip of her ponytail swung in the air as she

looked back and forth between her monitor and the

printouts on her desk. His blurred vision exaggerated her

movements and the bright colors she wore. He wanted to

frame her.

Meg lifted her head from her work, looked at him and

removed her earbuds. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Maybe I like staring at you.”

She rol ed her eyes. “Maybe you’re stoned.”

“I’m getting clean.” And he felt like living hel . He’d been

tasked to read a manual on database design, reading that

would’ve blinded him on a good day, but was impossible

with the sludge in his brain. As the hour approached noon,

his body screamed for Oxy.

Meg gave him a wry smile. “Wel , talk to me when you get

clean.”

“Go out with me tonight,” he said impulsively. He wouldn’t

be in top form, but he couldn’t get her off his mind. And

he was afraid if he sat on his hands much longer, Mark the

Metrosexual would plant his flag.

Meg frowned. “You’re seeing someone else—who reeks of

bad perfume, by the way.”

A headache landed between his eyes like an axe. He

grimaced, but forced himself to talk through the pain.

“I’m…not…seeing…anyone. I stopped to see my attorney

before I came to the party.”

“On a Saturday?”

“It’s complicated. She was my father’s attorney, so she’s

more like a…friend of the family.”

“Liz Fischer. I remember her name from the court records

data we went over.”

“Right. She asked me to come by because she’s

representing my buddy Cooper Craft.”

“You mean, The Charmed Kil er?”

He couldn’t bring himself to think about what Coop had

done. “Whatever. Anyway, she wanted to ask me some

questions about him. That’s why I was late.”

Meg angled her head. “So how did her perfume get on

you?”

“She hugged me before I left. Like I said, Liz is a friend of

the family.”

“Why didn’t you say so the night of the party?”

“Because I already had to explain about my probation

officer. I was afraid you’d find it kind of…seedy. I know

your father already doesn’t like me.”

She pursed her mouth and conceded his remark with a

nod. “Lucky for you, I’m not my father.”

His heart lifted with hope, but she narrowed her eyes.

“If you think you’re getting laid, Wren, you’re not. If I

decide to give you another chance, it’ll be starting over

with a first date, seeing as how you abandoned me at my

father’s reception, and the frat party was a bust.”

“Right,” he agreed, nodding like a trained dog.

“So about going out tonight—were you planning to pick

me up on your bicycle?”

He flushed and pushed up his glasses. “Uh, I guess I didn’t

think it through.”

“It’s okay,” she said with a sigh, then leveled her gaze on

him. “I’m going to see an Italian film tonight at Landmark

Theater, seven-thirty. If you can handle subtitles, I’l meet

you there.”

He blinked. “Yeah, I’l be there.”

Meg glanced at her watch then stood and grabbed her

purse. She leaned over as she walked by and murmured,

“Bring a kiss.”

Her words lit him up like a bulb. He wanted to fol ow her

out, but he wasn’t sure how his legs would perform once

he stood. So he waited until the sound of her footsteps

faded, then gingerly pushed to his feet and picked up his

backpack. The effort had him sweating profusely, and his

vision was stil blurred. No way would he make it to his

probation meeting with E. without driving his bike into the

path of something much bigger and much faster.

He pul ed out the empty ink pen where he stored his stash

of Oxy. His hands shook so badly, he dropped the pil s on

the floor and had to scramble to recover them, losing one

down the hole of an outlet. He was so rattled, he

impulsively chewed an entire tablet, effectively blowing

the tapering program he’d had himself on for the past two

days. Carlotta’s threat reverberated in his head. His sister

had been a lenient guardian for the most part, but he

knew when she meant business.

He would start tapering again after his probation meeting,

he promised himself, but gave thanks as the sweet, sweet

drug zapped his headache instantly and stil ed his

trembling hands. He double-checked to make sure he had

a packet of urine screen to dump into a sample if E. asked

for one at the meeting, and by the time he exited the

building and unlocked his bike, he was feeling good.

Amazing, even. And the promise of seeing Meg that night

had him humming dopey rock ballads on the ride to the

probation office.

He didn’t even mind the sourpuss at the check-in desk, or

the stale odor of the waiting room. He laid his head back

and smiled to himself. Oxy was a panacea. The drug gave

everything a rosy hue…made him feel as if everything in

his life would work out. He’d get to be with Meg, someday

play in the World Series of Poker, and his parents would

come home. Coop would beat his murder rap, get his job

back, and someday marry Carlotta.

It could happen.

“Wren!” the woman at the desk crowed. “You’re up.”

He sauntered back to E. Jones’s office, then rapped on her

door.

“Come in,” she cal ed.

When he walked in, E. was standing at a file cabinet. She

flashed a quick smile over her shoulder. “Have a seat, Wes.

I’l be right with you.”

He swung into a chair, then straightened, reminding

himself that E. had an eagle eye, so he needed to be on his

best behavior.

She closed the file drawer and sat down at her desk. Her

red hair was pul ed back into a tight bun. E.’s movements

were jerky and her eyes were red-rimmed. With a start, he

also noticed her left hand was bare. Had she given

Leonard’s ring back?

“How are you?” she asked with forced cheer.

“Good.”

“How’s your job?”

“My community service job? It’s fine.”

She looked up from the form she was writing on. “I meant

your courier job.”

His cover for the work he was doing for the D.A. in The

Carver’s organization—even E. didn’t know about it, which

was all the better since the lughead she was engaged to

also worked for the loan shark. “Oh…the courier job is fine,

too.”

She looked over the papers in front of her. “I stil need a

note from your employer to put in your file. Can you bring

it next Wednesday, please?”

He nodded, thinking Jack Terry could probably forge

something that looked believable. “I noticed you’re not

wearing your engagement ring.”

E. glanced at her finger, then moved her hand to her lap.

“It’s being cleaned. So, I hear that your former boss, Dr.

Craft, is getting out on bail?”

He nodded. “He was supposed to be released this

morning, last I heard.”

E. set down her pen. “How has al this affected you, Wes?

Someone you looked up to being charged with such

terrible crimes.”

“I…don’t like it. I thought I knew Coop, but I guess I was

wrong.”

She looked sympathetic. “We can all be wrong about

people.” Then she angled her head and her eyes

narrowed. “Wes, are you…on something?”

“No,” he blurted.

“Take off your glasses.”

“Why?” he asked, stalling.

Her gazed was locked on him, her jaw firm. “Because I said

so.”

He shifted in the chair, then took off his glasses.

“Look at me,” she demanded.

He lifted his gaze to hers. “I can pee in a cup if you want.”

She gave him a flat smile. “That won’t be necessary.”

He exhaled in relief.

E. picked up the phone on her desk and punched a couple

of buttons. “Kathleen, I need you in my office with a kit.

Thanks.”

Wesley started to get a bad vibe. “What was that all

about?”

“Just sit tight,” she said, making more notes on his file.

“Did you and Leonard have an argument?”

E. didn’t look up, but her mouth tightened. “This isn’t a

two-way street, Wesley. My personal life is none of your

business.”

The door opened and a thin older woman wearing a scrub