3 Men and a Body (14 page)

her cast. She was contorting to get into it when the phone

rang again. Ready to give Hannah a piece of her mind, she

yanked up the cel . But the display read Unknown.

Frowning, she answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, pretty lady, it’s the bartender from the Holiday Inn.

Are you stil in town?”

“No,” she said warily, wondering if the guy wanted to hook

up.

“Too bad, because I just saw Karen Wel s.”

Her pulse leaped. “Where?”

“At the Pink Pony.”

“What’s that?”

“A strip club, honey. She’s onstage right now.”

Carlotta felt sick to her stomach. “Can you give me the

address?” She wrote it down with a shaking hand. “Thanks

so much for letting me know.”

“If you come back to town, dol face, look me up.”

“Wil do,” she lied, then disconnected the cal .

She glanced at her watch and dialed Jack’s number while

she continued to struggle into the swimsuit.

“Carlotta?” he answered.

“Yes, it’s me.” She juggled the phone between her

shoulder and ear, straining to stretch a strap over her

shoulder. When the strap snapped out of her hand and

zinged her cast, she grunted in pain.

“If you’re doing what I think you’re doing,” he said, “I’m

going to have to find a place to be alone.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she retorted. “I happen

to have a hot tip for you.”

“I know, I know—get a new tie.”

“Wil you shut up and listen? The bartender from the

Holiday Inn just called and said he’d spotted Karen Wel s

at a strip club cal ed the Pink Pony.”

“She’s there now?”

“Yes.” She gave him the address.

“The employee file was a dead end,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

He sighed. “Something tel s me I should have patted you

down before I let you leave. Carlotta, it doesn’t make

sense for us both to travel the same ground.”

“Wel , I have to admit that I’m glad I’m not there with you

to check out this particular lead.”

“It might not be your mother,” he said quietly.

Emotion formed a lump in her throat. “If my mother is a

stripper, that would just be the cherry on top, wouldn’t

it?” She broke off on a choking sound.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” He sighed. “Look, go have

fun…with Coop,” he added tightly. “I’l call you the minute

I know something.”

She disconnected the call and gulped a couple of breaths

to calm herself. Her strength renewed, she stretched the

suit over her shoulders and into place. She shrugged into a

red cover-up and gold metallic flip-flops, then stuffed her

phone and other necessities into a beach bag and hurried

downstairs.

Wesley was waiting, wearing trunks and a T-shirt. “Coop

went down to rent us beach chairs and an umbrel a.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Yeah. But isn’t there some saying about nice guys

finishing last?”

She narrowed her eyes at her brother as they walked

through the pool area and along a boardwalk toward the

beach. He seemed determined to steer her attention away

from Coop. “Wesley, what was all that about Peter today?

It came from left field.”

He shrugged. “He’s not such a bad guy, and he’s crazy

about you. Don’t you want the life you would’ve had if you

hadn’t been saddled with me?”

She stopped. “Wesley, that’s not why Peter dumped me.

His parents didn’t want him near me because of what our

father did. It had nothing to do with you.”

“I heard what you said in the van.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was hiding, I heard you tel Coop that you only

raised me because you didn’t have a choice.”

She bit her tongue to stave off tears. “I stil think you

would’ve been better off raised by your own mother and

father instead of an eighteen-year-old who couldn’t cook.

But I never would’ve left you to someone else to raise. I

only meant that Coop shouldn’t put me on a pedestal,

because I did what anyone would do. For me, there was no

other choice.”

Wesley’s eyes looked suspiciously moist. “You didn’t do

such a bad job, you know.”

In the wake of rare brotherly praise, she tried to look

stern. “So stay out of trouble.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbled.

When they got to the beach, they scanned the crowd.

Coop waved to them and they wound their way to the

patch he’d carved out for them. His smile was a little

dimmer today, but he was stil his easygoing self. And his

eyes lit up appreciatively when Carlotta pul ed off her

cover-up. If he was remembering what little intimate

contact had transpired between them last night, so was

she.

They played a game of spades in the shade of the

umbrel a. Carlotta tried to keep her mind on the play, but

she kept wondering what was happening in Daytona, if

Jack had located Karen Wel s and if she was really Valerie

Wren.

“You broke the trump suit,” Wesley said.

She blinked. “What?”

“You laid down a spade and I know you stil have a club.”

She frowned and pul ed her cards back. “How do you

know?”

“I just know.”

Her phone rang. Wesley was closer, so he reached into her

bag and handed it to her. “It’s Jack Terry,” he said.

“Excuse me a minute,” she said, aware that Coop’s eyes

were on her.

She walked out of earshot and flipped up the phone.

“Hel o, Jack? Did you find her?”

“Yeah, I found Karen Wel s.” In the background she could

hear dance music.

“And?” Carlotta held her breath.

“There’s a resemblance, but she’s not your mother.”

She exhaled. “Oh, thank God.”

“Yeah. Turns out she’s using a fake name because she has

a couple of misdemeanor drug possession charges. I don’t

think she had anything to do with the hotel robbery, but

I’m stil looking into it.”

“I forgot to ask earlier. Did Liz recognize my father’s voice

on the surveil ance tape.”

“She doesn’t think it was him.”

Another relief. “Okay. Thanks for calling, Jack.”

“Sure thing. Now you can get back to…whatever you were

doing.”

She smiled into the phone. “Sunbathing.”

“Wish I was there.”

“You’ve seen everything I have, anyway,” she reminded

him.

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind seeing it again

sometime.”

“Goodbye, Jack.” She flipped the phone closed and walked

back to the chairs, feeling less burdened. Coop was there

alone, reading a book.

“Where did Wesley go?”

He nodded toward the surf, where her brother was

floating, waiting for a wave to ride in.

“How’s Jack?” Coop asked.

“Fine and dandy.”

He closed his book. “What’s going on, Carlotta?”

“What do you mean?”

“For one thing, there’s no Neiman Marcus in Daytona.”

She winced. “You checked?”

“Where were you yesterday?”

“I can explain.”

“Were you with Jack?”

She closed her eyes briefly. “He was there.”

“Where?”

Carlotta massaged her temples. “At the Holiday Inn.”

Coop’s head went back as if she’d slapped him.

“It’s not what you think,” she said. She looked around to

make sure Wesley was stil in the water, then sighed. “The

night that Wesley came home, Jack pul ed me aside to tel

me that a Holiday Inn in Daytona had been robbed, and

when the scene was processed, my father’s fingerprints

came up as a match. Jack was coming down to

investigate.”

Coop quirked his mouth. “So that’s why you wanted to

stop in Daytona?”

She nodded. “I wanted to check it out for myself. I thought

my father might be working there, maybe in disguise.”

“Was he?”

“No. But I…ran into Jack while I was there.”

“I imagine he wasn’t too happy to see you.”

“Uh, no. But I did give him a lead to fol ow up on. That was

him calling back to say it was a dead end.”

Coop studied her. “So that’s why you agreed to come with

me, so you could hitch a ride to Daytona?”

“That’s not the only reason,” she said, but she realized

how feeble it sounded. She swallowed. “If you don’t mind,

I’d rather Wesley not know about any of this.”

He nodded, but his disappointment was transparent. The

rest of the day, she was aware of the emotional wall

between them, and she knew it was her fault. Wesley

seemed not to notice anything was wrong—the sun and

the water agreed with him, she acknowledged. He seemed

cheerful, and a little color suited him. She and Coop relied

on him to keep the conversation and activities going. The

gold-streaked sunset was bittersweet. Carlotta

remembered how happy she’d been twenty-four hours

ago.

They had a casual dinner at a beachside bar, then Wesley

insisted they go to the hotel hot tub. He held his freshly

bandaged arm out of the water along the concrete edge.

Carlotta did the same with her cast, but conceded that the

warm, bubbly water felt good everywhere else. Stil , her

chest ached every time she looked at Coop. Their toes

occasionally touched underwater. They were sitting a

couple of feet away from each other, but as time wore on,

they migrated closer and closer together until their thighs

touched. She wished the entire world would fall away and

leave them alone to explore this powerful pull between

them.

When Wesley climbed out to go to the restroom, silence

stretched until Carlotta cleared her throat. “Hannah called

again today to breathe into the phone.”

He smiled, but it faded as quickly. “Has Ashford called

again?” “No.”

“Meaning he doesn’t perceive me as a threat.”

“Don’t go there, Coop.”

His laugh was hol ow. “It’s true. If I planned to marry you, I

wouldn’t be so calm about you taking off for the weekend

with some other guy.”

She sighed. “Coop, the ring was a total shock to me. I

didn’t make Peter any promises.”

“So he’s like me, operating on hope?”

She met his level gaze. “I don’t know what you want me to

say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything until you know what you

want.” He curved his hand around her neck and pul ed her

mouth to his for a hard, slanting kiss that held all the

passion they might have shared last night if things had

gone differently. When he pul ed back, his expression was

unyielding.

“I’m not Jack, Carlotta, and I’m not Peter. I’m not wil ing to

share you. But I am wil ing to wait.” He climbed out of the

hot tub and reached for a towel. “See you in the morning.”

16

The one good thing about visiting a morgue, Carlotta

realized, was that it made your own problems seem small.

Even with her having a dysfunctional family, an empty

bank account and a confused heart, every person in the

crypt would probably trade places with her if given the

chance.

They had passed through an impromptu checkpoint a

quarter of a mile from the entrance, on the other side of

which sprawled countless TV news crews. The morgue, a

four-story, nondescript stucco structure, sat in a boggy

area surrounded by scrub foliage—not exactly prime real

estate. The inside was fil ed with disinfectable surfaces of

linoleum and glass and stainless steel.

They were sent to the second floor, which bustled with

activity. Coop was handsome in dress jeans and a sport

coat over a shirt and tie, and he’d loaned Wesley a shirt

and tie to look presentable. Carlotta wore slacks and a

dark blouse, with her hair pul ed back.

Coop’s behavior to her this morning had been friendly, but

cool. She had lain awake most of the night replaying his

parting comment. His intensity spooked her. Part of what

had attracted her to Coop was his laid-back attitude. She

hadn’t counted on his feelings running so deep, so soon.

Sometimes the quiet ones surprised you.

The three of them walked up to the check-in desk, and

Coop flashed his credentials to the woman there.

“I’m Dr. Craft. I’m here to pick up body 3050.” A code, he

had explained to Carlotta and Wesley, predetermined so

that Kiki Deerling’s name would not be used.

The clerk frowned. “There must be some mistake.

Someone else just arrived to claim that body, a tall, bald

man.” She checked a sign-in log. “A Dr. Talon. He’s with Dr.

Shores, our chief medical examiner.”

“Take me to Dr. Shores.” Coop turned to Carlotta and

Wesley. “Stay here. The family might have changed their

minds.”

“I’l go with you,” Wes offered.

With her broken arm, Carlotta knew she would be of little

help, so she stayed behind. Although she wished she’d

asked for directions to a bathroom. Her bladder was at the

brim, a by-product of riding in the car with men, who

never seemed to have to pee no matter how much they

drank.

She crossed her legs and leaned on the counter, flipping

through an entertainment magazine the clerk had left

behind. Kiki Deerling was on the cover and nearly every

page inside. She was—had been—stunningly beautiful,

with white-blond hair, a wil owy frame and a wide, sexy