3 Men and a Body (16 page)

“So is being out of town for a couple of days going to make

your problem with The Carver go away?” she asked him.

“I hope so,” Wesley said, busying himself with a bendy

straw.

She sent a look to Coop that said, See what I mean?

“Don’t you start your community service tomorrow?”

Coop asked.

“Yep.”

“What exactly wil you be doing?” he pressed.

“Helping the city beef up its database security to keep out

hackers like me.”

“Do you think maybe you’d like to study computers in

col ege someday?”

Wesley frowned. “Are you a career counselor now?”

“Wesley!” Carlotta admonished.

Coop shook his head and gave a little laugh. “I just told

your sister that she treats you like a kid, but the more I’m

around you, the more I understand why she does.”

The waiter brought their food on a big tray and passed out

plates of burgers and fries. When he left, Wesley looked at

Coop with remorse. “I’m sorry, man. I’m in a bad mood

because my arm is hurting again.”

“Fair enough. Are you stil taking those antibiotics?”

“Yeah.”

“Promise me you’l see a doctor if your arm isn’t better by

tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Carlotta ate her burger, looking back and forth between

the men as they talked about music and movies, marveling

over how Wesley responded to Coop. How many times

had she wished for a man’s stronger presence to back her

up when she was doling out discipline while Wesley was

growing up? She wondered if Coop wanted a family

someday. He would be a great father, she acknowledged.

The kind of father any kid would want to have.

He glanced her way and caught her staring. She looked

down and concentrated on removing the onion from her

bun. Her gaze strayed to a large man outside in the

parking lot. Something about him seemed familiar…

While she sipped her soda, the man walked up to Coop’s

van and, in a flash, inserted a slim-jim tool into the

window seam and popped open the door. It was the guy

from the morgue with the Ferragamo shoes, the one

who’d driven the SUV.

“Coop!” she yel ed, pointing.

He looked up to see what was happening. “Stay here.” He

sprinted out of the restaurant, but he had a good distance

to cover.

“We need to call the police,” Carlotta said, pul ing out her

cel phone, but Wesley stopped her.

“If the police come, word wil get out about our cargo.”

He was right—it was Coop’s call to make. Her heart

hammered against her breastbone. She expected to see

the van pul away at any second and disappear, but the

thief seemed to be having trouble with the wiring. When

Coop reached the van, he dragged the guy out. Carlotta

watched in dismay while they exchanged punches. Coop

had a height advantage, but the guy was bulky.

Everyone in the restaurant had gathered to look out the

window. A dark car pul ed up and honked. The would-be

thief pushed Coop down, then jumped into the car, and it

sped away.

“I’m calling the police,” a restaurant employee said.

“Don’t let them,” Carlotta told Wesley, then ran outside.

Coop was picking himself up when she reached him. “Are

you okay? Your eye is bleeding!”

He winced and touched the torn skin on his brow. “It’s

superficial. I’m fine. Let’s get Wesley and get going.”

“But what if they come back? What if they fol ow us and

try to steal the van again?”

He put his arm on her elbow to shepherd her inside,

scanning the parking lot the whole time. “They can’t steal

it. I installed a kil switch.” He fished in his pocket and held

up a strange-looking key. “The engine won’t start unless

this is in place.”

She shuddered. “This is just plain creepy. They won’t leave

the poor girl alone.”

The two of them went back into the restaurant, and Coop

assured the manager that calling the police was

unnecessary. He paid their bil and gestured to Wesley.

“Wrap up your burger and let’s go.”

Wesley didn’t ask any questions—he looked as shaken as

Carlotta felt. When they left the restaurant, Coop scanned

the area again before they climbed into the van.

“Did you see the plates of the car the guy got into?”

Carlotta asked.

“There weren’t any plates. Wes, get out the atlas behind

my seat.”

“Why?”

“Find us an alternate route home, off the interstates as

much as possible.”

“Won’t that take longer?” he asked.

“Just do it,” Coop said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Wesley bent over the atlas. “Looks like it’l be an hour or

so before we can leave the interstate.”

“Okay, you navigate.” Coop looked over at Carlotta. “Are

you okay?”

She nodded, then opened the glove compartment to

remove a first aid kit she’d seen there. From the supplies,

she selected an antiseptic wipe in a foil packet. Twisting in

her seat, she cleaned the cut over Coop’s eye. He flinched,

but let her remove the blood and apply an adhesive

bandage.

“I should be so lucky to get punched every day,” he said

lightly.

“You’re lucky he didn’t break your glasses…or worse.” She

made a rueful noise. “You could’ve been kil ed back there.

What if he’d had a gun?”

“I’m bul etproof,” he said with a wink.

“I’m serious, Coop.”

He sobered. “I’m sorry you’re scared. Believe me, I never

would’ve asked you to come along if I thought it would be

dangerous.”

“Do you have a gun, Coop?” Wesley asked, his eyes wide.

“I’m not allowed to own one,” he said matter-of-factly.

Another intriguing hint about his background, Carlotta

mused. “We’l be home soon,” she said. “Kiki Deerling is

lucky to have you looking out for her.”

For more than an hour they rode along in relative silence,

listening to music and the frequent news updates about

Kiki’s death on the radio. The media seemed to be

focusing on the fact that she’d been partying with her ex-

boyfriend, Matt Pearson, the night she died. Pearson was

an alleged heavy drug user, reputed to host heroin parties

and to carry drugs on him nearly all the time.

“Could you tel anything when you looked at the body?”

Carlotta asked Coop.

“I only saw her face,” he answered. He kept glancing in the

rearview mirror, his expression taut.

“Do you see the car?” she asked, turning around.

Wesley turned around, too.

“No,” Coop said, but he stil seemed uneasy.

Carlotta saw a sign for a rest area and shifted in her seat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t wait much longer to go to the

bathroom.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t going to hold you captive. I need to

make a phone call, anyway, and I’d rather not do it while

I’m driving.”

He put on his signal and changed lanes, taking the off-

ramp for the rest area. After he parked the van, Carlotta

climbed down, happy to stretch her legs.

“I’ll hurry,” she said.

“We have a few minutes,” Coop told her, pul ing out his

cel phone. “I hope the vending area has coffee.”

“I’l check,” she offered.

He nodded grateful y, then frowned at his phone. “I’m

going to walk around and see if I can get a better signal.”

“You two do what you need to do,” Wesley said. “I’l stay

with the van.”

“If anything happens,” Coop said, “don’t be a hero.”

“Don’t worry,” he said wryly.

At least her brother’s arm didn’t seem to be hurting

anymore, Carlotta mused as she stood in line in the ladies’

room. He was certainly in a better mood. Of course, all of

them were in a strange space after the day they’d had.

When she left the bathroom, she fol owed a walkway up a

slight incline to the detached concrete hut marked

Vending.

Thwarting body snatchers not once, but twice…Could

things get any more bizarre today?

She was relieved to see a coffee machine, looking forward

to a shot of caffeine herself. She fed the machine quarters

and stood watching the brown liquid dispense into a paper

cup. The second cup was fil ing when a man came up next

to her.

She gestured to the machine. “I’m almost finished.”

“Take your time,” he said.

But that voice…that voice…

Carlotta jerked her head around and stared up at the tall

man wearing a battered fishing hat and a ful beard with

sunglasses.

“Don’t be so obvious, sweetheart. You’l blow my cover.”

Her stomach twisted, her vision tunneled, her heart

stopped. Her throat convulsed with the attempt to speak,

and finally one word emerged.

“Dad?”

18

Carlotta stared at the scraggly man standing next to her,

searching for the debonair, handsome father who’d

abandoned her over ten years ago. But if not for the voice,

she wouldn’t have recognized him. She took a step

backward and the cup of coffee she held slipped out of her

hand, bouncing on the ground and splashing her slacks.

“Easy,” her father said with a smile. “Don’t do anything

that wil draw attention.”

“What…what are you doing here?” she managed to ask.

“Have you been fol owing us?”

“Yes. And waiting for an opportunity like this. God, I’ve

missed you so.”

She longed to throw her arms around him, but he also

frightened her. She didn’t really know this man anymore.

“How did you know where we were? Do you live around

here? How’s our mother?”

He removed the second full cup of coffee from the

machine and slowly fed in more coins with those

unmistakable large hands. Hands that had tossed her in

the air when she’d been little. Hands that held her bike

when she learned to ride. Hands that allegedly had stolen

hundreds of thousands of dol ars from trusting investors.

“I know you have a lot of questions, sweetheart. Let’s just

say that I’ve been keeping tabs on you and Wes. You’ve

done wel , and you’re a lovely woman. I’m so proud of

you.”

She bit her lip to stem sudden tears as anger flared in her

chest. “You’ve been keeping tabs on us? You broke the

heart of a nine-year-old.” She swallowed. “Mine, too.

Why? Where have you been all this time?”

“I’m so sorry that you and Wesley had to suffer. I never

meant to be gone this long. I’ve been gathering evidence

to prove my innocence.”

“For ten years?”

His mouth twitched downward. “Your mother has been

sick on and off.”

Her chin went up. “Sick or drunk?”

“Her alcoholism is a disease, Carlotta.”

It was strange how she could feel sympathy for Coop in his

struggle with alcohol, but not for her own mother. She

looked over her shoulder and down the hil , to where

Wesley stood next to the van. “Don’t you want to speak to

your son?”

“Of course I do. But let’s keep this between us for now.”

He handed her the cup of coffee he held, and removed the

ful cup sitting in the machine for a quick drink. “I need to

lie low for a while, but I’l contact you again soon.”

“How? Wil you cal ?”

“No. The police stil have a tap on the phone at the town

house,” he said. “They didn’t remove it after that

ridiculous funeral they put you through.”

“I have a cel phone.”

“I have the number.”

“A new one.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’l find you. Just stay close to Peter.”

“Please…don’t involve Peter.”

“But he’s in a position at the firm to help me. I need him.

He’s the only person there I can trust. When the time

comes, I’m going to need your help, too, sweetheart. Then

we’l all be together again.”

Emotions pelted her. She wanted to scream, wanted to

cry, wanted to laugh. Wanted to call Jack and tel him

where he could find his most-wanted man.

“How about a hug?” she whispered.

But before her father could move, the sound of screeching

brakes tore through the air. She looked down to see a

green van lurch to a halt behind Coop’s white one. Two

men scrambled out and one of them ran to the back of the

van that held Kiki’s body. When the door wouldn’t open,

he strode over to Wesley and grabbed him by the shirt.

Carlotta’s throat clogged with fear. At this distance she

couldn’t be sure, but the thug looked like the tall, bald

man who had posed as Dr. Talon at the morgue. Wesley

held up his hands and shook his head.

A shot rang out and the men hunkered down, surprised.

Carlotta looked around to see Coop running toward the

potential body thieves, holding a pistol straight up in the

air.

The man stil standing next to the green van reached inside

the door and, to her horror, withdrew a shotgun. “Wesley,

get down!” she screamed. Screams rang out all over the

rest area.

The sound of a siren pierced the air. She looked back to

see a dark car with a red flashing light on top racing

toward them. Both of the unknown men lunged into their

vehicle and took off, blowing through the rest area at

breathless speeds before screeching onto the interstate.

The dark police sedan slid in sideways and stopped, siren