Six Killer Bodies (31 page)

Oxy was the burden that came with thinking clearly.

Where was Coop? How could the man who had raked him

over the coals for conspiring to have a body stolen do all

the things he’d been accused of? It just didn’t add up. But

if Coop was innocent, why run?

Just like his own father…

Then he was tormented by images of Meg with that other

guy. He’d totally blown it with her.

He needed to cal Liz.

And repair the townhouse.

And thank Mouse.

At this point, he was glad that the identification of the

headless corpse in the morgue had gone cold. Because if

one of the three names on the list he’d sent anonymously

to the APD actually panned out, they might link the dead

guy back to Mouse. And he owed Mouse one. A big one.

He finally managed to doze for a couple of hours, then

showered and took the vitamins and minerals that were

supplementing his energy and his ful recovery. When he

went upstairs, Carlotta and Peter were having brunch out

by the pool. Through the glass door he watched them

interact for a few minutes, nursing guilty pangs about

pushing Peter on Carlotta when it was so clear to him her

heart was elsewhere. He’d explored the rest of the house

and suspected their separate sleeping arrangements had

little to do with appearances.

But Peter had really helped him out of a jam, and he did

seem to care for Carlotta. He would give her the life she

deserved, the one their parents had yanked out from

under her.

Wes walked outside and joined them. He snagged a strip

of bacon and a banana, then noticed the brochures they

were studying.

“Who’s going to Vegas?” Excitement stirred in his stomach

as he picked up one of the flyers.

“Peter bought a trip to Vegas for charity. We’re leaving

Tuesday for five days.”

“You’re welcome to stay here while we’re gone,” Peter

added.

Envy stabbed Wes. He’d always dreamed of going to

Vegas. Any poker player worth their salt played the strip.

“Thanks for the offer, Peter, but I’m heading back to

Chance’s place tonight.” He glanced at Carlotta. “I’m going

with Kendall Abrams on a few body pickups this afternoon.

I’l have him drop me off there when we’re done.”

She looked sad, but she nodded. He wondered briefly if

she was lonely living with Peter. There was a feeling of

detachment here in the suburbs that didn’t seem to fit his

sister’s personality.

“Have you cal ed Liz?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“So…” Carlotta grinned. “How did it go with Meg

yesterday?”

Wes frowned. “It didn’t. She’s going out with someone

else, someone in her own league.”

“Wel , if you’re giving up, that wil definitely make her

decision easier,” Carlotta said lightly.

A honk sounded from the front of the house.

“That’s my ride,” Wes said. “Later.” On impulse, he

dropped a kiss on his sister’s cheek, then bolted.

The body pickups were rote—four nursing homes and the

veteran’s hospital, six trips to the morgue. Kendall Abrams

was as morose as the country songs he insisted they listen

to. Dr. Abrams wasn’t at the morgue, so the dreaded, “I

gotta be me,” meeting with Kendall and his uncle was

postponed. As Wes maneuvered around Kendall’s

shortcomings on the job, he realized how much he’d

learned from Coop. But it wasn’t the same making calls

without him.

The afternoon turned into evening and they were stil

stacking bodies in the back of the van. An influenza

outbreak in one of the nursing homes had taken its tol .

They were completing their final run to the morgue when

his cel phone rang. At the sight of Meg’s name on the

screen, his pulse kicked up. Uncaring of how uncool it was,

he answered on the first ring.

“Hi, Meg.”

“Hi. Are you busy?”

“Just moving bodies.”

She grunted. “Are you going to be busy all night?”

Hope stirred in his chest. “No. We just finished.”

“Why don’t you come over?”

“To your dorm?”

“Yeah. My roommate’s gone. We can hang out and watch

TV.”

“I thought you girls weren’t allowed to have guys in your

room this late.”

“We’re not. If you want in, you’l have to think of

something creative. Room 2011.”

He swallowed hard. “What time?”

“That’s up to you,” she said, then clicked off.

He snapped the phone closed and looked at Kendall.

“We’re done. I’l buy pizza.”

Twenty minutes later, Kendall dropped him off in front of

Meg’s dorm. Wes pul ed out the hat he’d bought from the

guy at the counter of the pizza joint and walked in with a

pie propped on his shoulder. “Pizza for room 1911,” he

told the dour-faced woman manning the lobby desk.

“The girls have to come down and pay for it here,” she said

primly, as if she were personally responsible for guarding

their hymens.

“I’ve been calling and calling from the parking lot, and it’s

busy.” He tried to look pitiful. “Please, ma’am. I got fifteen

more of these things to deliver in the next forty minutes,

or it all comes out of my paycheck.”

She frowned. “Al right. But if you don’t come back, I know

which room you’re in.”

“That’s what you think,” Wes muttered under his breath

as he stepped onto the elevator.

When Meg answered the door, she burst out laughing. “I

knew you’d think of something.”

He was kissing her before the door closed.

She kissed him back, then lifted her head. “No sex, do you

hear me? This is stil our first date.”

He nodded. He just wanted to be in the same room with

her.

They sat on the couch watching TV and sharing the pizza

with her leg crossed over his, and his hand on her knee. In

between talking, they kissed and petted, but despite a

persistent hard-on, Wes didn’t let things go too far. He

didn’t want to mess up again.

Around two in the morning, they stretched out on the

couch, their warm bodies pressed together. She had her

hand under his shirt, caressing his stomach. As Wes

stroked her hair, a fierce possessiveness welled in his

chest.

“So, what’s up with you and this Mark guy?” he asked.

Meg’s hand stil ed, and for a few seconds, he thought he’d

angered her. Then she sighed. “Mark was my brother’s

best friend.”

“Was? Meaning they’re no longer best friends?”

“Meaning, I no longer have a brother.”

Wes twisted to see her face. “What happened?”

Her eyes shimmered with tears. “He died of a drug

overdose about three years ago.”

So that explained why she’d given him such a hard time

about the Oxy. It also explained the air of fragility he’d

detected around Meg’s mother when he’d met her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That must have been awful.”

“It stil is. I’m glad you decided to get clean.”

“Me, too,” he said, and meant it. He felt like he had a new

lease on life.

She snuggled closer and that odd pain stirred in his chest

again. An alien thought invaded his mind, but he pushed it

away. No, he was not in love with Meg Vincent. He just

wanted in her tight pants.

“I’m going on vacation with my folks for a few days,” she

said. “I’l miss you while I’m gone.”

Christ, he missed her already. With a sinking sensation, he

conceded that this miserable anguish wracking his body

must be love. Like a drowning man, Wes closed his eyes

and gave in.

29

“Last day before vacation?” Patricia Alexander asked

Carlotta.

“That’s right,” Carlotta sang, walking through Shoes on her

way up to her department. “Have fun doing inventory.”

Patricia stuck out her tongue good-naturedly.

Carlotta frowned at Patricia’s bare wrist. “Hey, where’s

your charm bracelet?”

“Oh…I just realized how sil y it was to believe that a bunch

of random charms can predict the future.”

“Did you break it off with Leo?”

Patricia nodded. “I don’t know, Carlotta. There’s just

something about him that I can’t put my finger on. It’s like

he’s keeping something from me.”

“You did the right thing,” Carlotta assured her. Then she

held up her own bracelet with a smile. “But who cares

whether the charms can predict the future? It’s a pretty

bracelet.”

Patricia laughed. “You’re right. I’l start wearing mine

again.” She gestured to the array of fall shoes that had just

arrived. “Have you seen the Valentino leopard-print

platforms?”

“Yes,” Carlotta said wistful y. With a pang she

remembered how much Maria Marquez had admired her

silver Valentino sandals.

She glanced at al the beautiful, shiny shoes that bloomed

like flowers in a garden. She’d love a new pair of sandals

for the trip to Vegas, but resisted, knowing she and Wes

would need money to repair and repaint the townhouse.

Besides, she had plenty of shoes. She planned to stop by

the townhouse tomorrow on the way to the airport to

pack some of her more dressy clothes.

“Maybe later,” she said to Patricia with a goodbye wave.

“Have fun in Vegas,” the blonde said slyly.

Carlotta returned with a smile, then turned toward the

escalator. She was looking forward to getting away, she

just wished it were under different circumstances. She

couldn’t shake the feeling that she was abandoning the

situation here in Atlanta when too many ends were stil

loose.

Which was ridiculous, since Jack and everyone else had so

often reminded her that it wasn’t her place to try to fix

things.

“Carlotta Wren, line two,” said a voice over the P.A.

system. “Carlotta Wren, line two.”

Carlotta hurried to her station and picked up the phone.

“This is Carlotta.”

“Hel o,” said a quiet, warm voice she recognized with a

thril .

“Coop?” she asked, stunned. She turned her back to Herb,

her bodyguard. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Worried sick about you,” she whispered. “Where are

you?”

A rueful noise sounded over the line. “I can’t tel you

where I am, but I’m okay. A friend of mine died.”

“Sarah Edlow?”

“I see you’ve been keeping up with the media coverage.

Yes, Sarah—the woman I almost kil ed because I was so

drunk on my ass.”

“She recovered, Coop.”

“Only to get a brain tumor. That doesn’t seem fair, does

it?”

“No,” she agreed, marveling over how calm, how normal,

he sounded in the wake of the accusations against him.

“I even wondered if something about her injuries, or the

medicine she had to take because of them could’ve caused

the tumor.”

“No one could know that,” she murmured.

“Stil , after I was arrested, I started thinking all these

horrible things were happening to me because of what I

did to Sarah, like karma. Some part of me thought I

deserved it.”

“But you didn’t kil those women, Coop.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She closed her eyes in abject relief just to hear him say the

words. “Then why did you leave?”

“Because I promised Sarah I would do something for her,

something she wasn’t able to do herself. I’l be back

tomorrow to face the music. And I’l cal Liz later, but I

wanted to talk to you first. I miss your voice.”

Carlotta smiled into the phone, then looked up and saw

Jack striding toward her.

“Jack’s here,” she whispered. “I have to go. Take care of

yourself.” She replaced the receiver just as Jack walked up.

“Who was that to put such color in your cheeks?” Jack

asked.

“Uh…it was Wes.” She clasped her shaking hands behind

her back.

“How’s he doing?”

“Great, just great.” Then she angled her head. Jack had a

sparkle in his eye. “Speaking of color in your

cheeks…What’s up?”

“Wel , it’l be all over the news soon, but I thought you

should be the first to know. This morning Rueben Garza

confessed to Maria’s murder.”

She gasped. “You’re kidding.”

“No. We questioned him and it wasn’t long before his

story fel apart. You were right—Maria must’ve known she

was being stalked. I’m just sorry I wasn’t as astute as you

were in picking up on it.”

“Jack, you can’t blame yourself.”

He pressed his lips together. “No. But I shouldn’t have

blamed you, either. I’m sorry I lashed out.”

“I know you didn’t mean it. We were all grieving.”

He nodded, then he gave a little laugh and shook his head.

“I feel like a cheesy TV pitch guy, but…wait, there’s more!”

She smiled. “What?”

From his pocket he removed a small plastic bag. In the

corner was a square black chip, less than half the size of a

postage stamp.

Carlotta squinted. “What is it?”

“A GPS chip found attached to the inside fender wall of

Coop’s van.”

She covered her mouth with both hands.

“The van had already been processed,” he said. “The chip

would’ve never been found if we hadn’t been looking for

it.”

“So someone was keeping track of Coop’s movements?”