Body Movers 4 - 4 Bodies and a Funeral (5 page)

“Cal me Mitch.” His voice was low and clear, with the

rumbling undertone of a wel -tuned engine.

“Mitch is visiting for a couple of weeks,” June supplied,

sounding almost giddy.

“I understand you’re a career army man,” Carlotta said.

“That’s right. Thought I’d be retiring in a few months, but

with everything going on in the world, that’s up in the air

for the moment.”

If he’d put twenty years into the army, that made him

around thirty-eight years old, she estimated, although he

seemed much more mature. More worldly.

“How do you two know each other?” he asked.

Carlotta met June a few months ago when she’d walked

into Moody’s cigar bar, asking about a stogie she’d found

in the pocket of a men’s jacket that Peter Ashford’s wife

had returned to Neiman’s before she’d subsequently been

murdered. But Carlotta tried to put a more philosophical

spin on it. “I walked into the cigar lounge looking for

answers, and your mother had them.”

“I’ve been trying to persuade her to try a new occupation,”

Mitch said, glancing at June meaningful y. “Maybe she

should give counseling a try.”

“Now, now,” June said, patting his arm. “Let’s not go

there.”

Aware of the sudden tension, Carlotta changed the

subject. “I assume you’re both here to see Eva McCoy?”

June nodded to her son. “Mitch knows Eva.”

“We belonged to the same running club in Hawai where

I’m based,” Mitch said.

Carlotta’s lips parted in surprise. “Hawaii—real y?” Her

hand closed over the charm bracelet that held the aloha

charm. It was a coincidence, of course, but stil …

Mitch nodded. “Fort Shafter. Eva trained there for the

Olympic marathon.”

“Carlotta, wil you take our picture?” June asked.

“Of course.”

Mitch handed her a digital camera. “Just push the silver

button.”

She framed them inside the small square and noticed that

while June’s smile was bright, Mitch’s seemed a little

forced. “Say ‘cheese,’” she encouraged, but he stil looked

stiff when she took the photo. It appeared that mother

and son had some fences to mend.

Carlotta handed the camera back to him just as an excited

murmur swept through the crowd.

“There she is,” Mitch said.

Carlotta turned as the tall, slender brunette walked in

wearing a white Olympic athletic suit trimmed in red and

blue. She smiled shyly as the Atlanta crowd cheered for

their hometown girl. Carlotta couldn’t help noticing that

the woman didn’t seem to enjoy being in the spotlight. Eva

waved with one hand, fingering the gold medal around her

neck with the other hand. Her boyfriend, fel ow Olympian

Ben Newsome, walked a few steps behind Eva, dressed in

a dark blue Olympic athletic suit, also waving to the crowd.

If Carlotta’s memory served, he had medaled in a couple

of track and field events as well.

A short nervous man hovered next to Eva, probably a

publicist, Carlotta guessed. A beefy-looking fel ow in a

sport coat trailed behind, his head constantly moving,

scanning the crowd. His gaze stopped on Mitchel Moody

for a few seconds, sizing him up. Mitchel did stand out in

a crowd, Carlotta conceded. Especially since he was taking

lots of photos of Eva and waving, trying to catch her

attention. At the hovering presence of the bodyguard,

Carlotta wondered briefly if the Internet rumors about Eva

receiving death threats were correct.

From the rear of the store, Jack and Maria came forward

to speak with the bodyguard. After conferring, the three of

them split up, circling the crowd, which had grown to

overflow the aisles and available floor space. The

detectives didn’t seem concerned, only attentive, so

Carlotta tried to relax. As bodies shifted, she was

separated from June and Mitchel , but Carlotta managed

to wave before she was swept up in the mob.

Hundreds of people had gathered to see Eva McCoy in

person. Although Eva seemed a little stiff and preoccupied

when she gave her talk, the crowd was rapt. She was

appealing and soft-spoken—Carlotta couldn’t imagine why

anyone would want the woman dead unless they were a

nut job.

Stil , heaven knew there were plenty of those afoot.

Eva held up her wrist to display her famous gold “lucky

charm” bracelet that she said had given her the strength

not just to finish the marathon, but to fight back and finish

first. Then she spoke fondly of the children’s charity that

would receive a portion of the proceeds of the Lucky

Charm Bracelet sales. Afterward, she entertained

questions from the members of the press in attendance.

An attractive, plump redhead stood. “Rainie Stephens,

Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Eva, you’re the most

decorated women’s marathoner of this decade. Are you

planning to compete in the World Championships

Marathon in Helsinki in a few weeks? It’s the only major

marathon you haven’t won.”

Eva smiled. “Thank you. And, yes, I am. That’s one race I

want to win before I retire.”

“Is it true that Body League sportswear is going to pay you

a mil ion dol ars if you win the World Championships?”

Eva looked uncomfortable. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

The crowd laughed.

“And what advice would you give to someone who’s facing

a difficult task?”

“Just keep finding ways not to quit,” Eva said with a smile.

“And don’t try to do it alone. While I was running, I looked

at my bracelet and thought of the people who gave me the

charms. I drew on their strength.”

Don’t try to do it alone. The words tugged on Carlotta’s

heart. After her parents had left, she’d felt so abandoned

and overwhelmed with raising her little brother that some

days she had been an automaton—numb but moving

forward. Everyone she’d counted on had left her high and

dry. And yet, somehow she’d found an inner strength that

she hadn’t known she possessed. Now that she had people

in her life who wanted to help her—like Coop and Jack and

even Peter again—she was having trouble letting them in.

There was an upside to being lonely—at least it was safe.

“I love you, Eva!” a man shouted. The crowd tittered.

But instead of brushing off the outburst, fear flashed over

Eva’s face. She shrank from the podium.

“Marry me!” the dark-haired man shouted, pushing people

aside to reach the front of the dais. He had a wild look in

his eye, appearing to be drunk or otherwise impaired.

Eva’s bodyguard stepped up next to her, poised to strike.

Jack materialized in time to intercept the man who had

caused the disturbance and guide him away from the

crowd. The heckler didn’t resist, but looked over his

shoulder as he was being led away.

“Eva! Eva, I can’t live without you!”

The man’s words ended when Jack jammed his hand over

the guy’s mouth. The crowd parted to let them pass. They

walked by Carlotta and she could smel alcohol rol ing off

the man.

The store publicist quickly took the microphone, thanked

Eva, and directed the crowd to the adjacent jewelry

department where Eva would be greeting the public and

etching her name into charm bracelets.

Carlotta helped to facilitate the long, snaking line,

unboxing charm bracelets after they’d been purchased

and handing them to Eva to sign. The woman kept looking

up, her gaze darting all around. Carlotta smiled and

introduced herself in an attempt to put the athlete at

ease. “Your own charm bracelet is beautiful.”

Eva lifted her arm and studied the now-famous piece of

jewelry with a fond smile. “Yes, it’s very special to me. My

coach tried to persuade me not to wear it during the run—

every ounce of weight counts, you know. I’m glad I trusted

my instincts.”

“Everyone here adores you.”

“I have to confess that crowds make me nervous. I started

running because it’s something I can do alone.”

“I’m sorry about the earlier disturbance.”

The woman sighed. “It’s not the first time something like

that has happened.”

“You’re very good at connecting with the public.”

“No, I’m not,” Eva said with a miserable smile. “I fake it.”

As one hour elapsed, then two, Carlotta noticed that each

encounter took its tol on Eva. She grew more skittish and

pale, fidgeting in the chair that had been set up for her in

front of a tall, slant-top table. Twice she slipped and cut

herself with the tool she was using to etch Eva on the back

of the charm bracelets. Carlotta kept one eye on the clock,

looking for an opportunity to slip away and check her cel

phone messages. Wesley should be finished by now and

she needed to talk to him—about the meeting with the

D.A., and about the missing prescription drugs.

“You’re probably bored to death,” Eva said as she handed

Carlotta back yet another inscribed bracelet.

Carlotta straightened. “Not at all.”

“I see you have a bracelet, too,” Eva said, nodding to

Carlotta’s wrist. “Do you want me to sign it?”

“I wouldn’t want to jump in front of all these people.”

“Nonsense, I’l do it now.”

Eva unfastened the bracelet from Carlotta’s wrist and bent

over it while Carlotta boxed the one the woman had just

signed.

“These are some of my favorite charms,” Eva said.

“Hmm—what an interesting combination.”

“Does the woman have any special significance?” Carlotta

asked.

“I don’t know,” Eva murmured, then frowned. “In fact, I

don’t remember this charm.” Then she shrugged. “Oh,

wel —there were a team of designers. I supervised, but I

don’t remember them all. Everything happened so fast, my

head is stil spinning.”

Before another hour had expired, they’d run out of charm

bracelets to sign, but there was stil a line of people who

simply wanted to speak to Eva and get an autograph.

Carlotta wished she’d been more diligent about keeping

up with in-store events while she’d been off work. Getting

celebrity autographs was one of her favorite hobbies, and

the new autograph book in her dresser drawer at home

had been signed only a few times.

Carlotta glanced up to see that June and Mitchel Moody

were next in line. Eva recognized Mitch and seemed

genuinely pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

He explained he was visiting his mother and introduced

June.

“My son can’t say enough nice things about you,” June

said.

Eva blushed and glanced toward her boyfriend, Ben, who

was standing a few feet away looking bored. Suddenly,

though, he was watching his girlfriend and Mitch Moody

with great interest, Carlotta noticed, especially when they

leaned close for June to take their picture.

“Mitch was a terrific running partner,” Eva said. “He really

pushed me to reach my personal best. And the fact that

he’s from Atlanta, too, made me feel less homesick.”

“Your talk was fantastic,” Mitch said, clearly taken with

Eva.

The woman shook her head. “I like raising money for

charity, but this is al a little too much fanfare for me.”

If that was the case, then Eva wasn’t going to like what

was coming next, Carlotta thought as she spied a huge

decorated sheet cake being wheeled toward the woman,

blazing with sparklers. Carlotta frowned. Had a cake been

mentioned in the staff meeting that she’d missed? The

mustached man pushing the cart was dressed in white

culinary garb and…rol er skates? Someone started singing

“For She’s a Jol y Good Fel ow,” and the crowd joined in,

parting to allow the cake through.

Just as Carlotta suspected, Eva didn’t look happy with the

turn of events.

Carlotta leaned close. “Are you okay?”

Eva’s face reddened. “I wasn’t expecting this…I hate

surprises.”

Alarm whipped through Carlotta. Eva didn’t know about

the cake? Her first instinct was to find Jack, but she didn’t

see him. When she spotted Maria, she waved frantically,

then ran forward to block the cart.

“Take it back,” Carlotta said to the man, but she could

barely hear herself over the singing. At the sight of a hand

tool next to the cake that didn’t look like any culinary

utensil she’d ever seen, she waved her arms at the man

and shouted, “Stop!”

The man glared and shoved the cart forward, plowing hard

into her. The edge of the cart hit Carlotta’s thighs,

knocking her legs out from under her. She flailed for two

long seconds before falling facedown into the cake. Pain

sizzled against her skin where the weight of her body

extinguished the sparklers. She lay in the quiet denseness

of the white cake for a few seconds, trying to digest what

had happened, then lifted her head and licked sweet icing

and cake crumbles off her lips. She wanted to clear her

eyes, but since the cart was stil moving—fast—she

decided it would be better to hang on.

She felt herself being propel ed like a human bowling bal

in Eva’s general direction. Carlotta braced for impact, and