Six Killer Bodies (33 page)

Wes’s stomach dropped to his knees. “Uh…I don’t know

what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, wel , Jack wants to meet with us as soon as possible

to get this all straightened out.”

Holy crap. Anything he said now would incriminate

Mouse…and how could he do that after what the man had

done for him? He glanced up and Mouse nodded. Wes

stiffly nodded back, offering a weak smile.

“And…there is one more thing,” Liz said. “I was hoping I

wouldn’t have to tel you this over the phone, but here

goes. I’m pregnant.”

Wes’s stomach, stil dangling at his knees, fel to his ankles.

Bright spots obscured his vision. Too bad the starbursts

couldn’t erase the memory of standing in Liz’s bathroom

after they’d had sex a few weeks ago, staring down at a

busted condom.

Wes opened his mouth to say something…anything.

Instead, he fainted.

32

Carlotta walked up the stairs, holding her cel phone to

one ear. “Peter, I’l just put your suitcase in my rental car.

That way you won’t have to come by the house before

going to the airport.”

“If you don’t mind getting it from my bedroom, that would

save me a trip,” Peter admitted. “I didn’t expect this

meeting to run so long.”

“We stil have plenty of time,” she said. “I’l check our bags

curbside under my ticket, then I’l turn in the rental car,

and meet you at the gate.”

“Sounds good. Are you leaving now?”

“In a few minutes. I want to stop by the townhouse and

get a few things I didn’t bring with me.”

“Sounds intriguing,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to get you

alone in Vegas.”

She smiled into the phone. “We’re going to have fun. See

you in a bit.”

Carlotta ended the call and at the top of the stairs, she

turned toward the double doors leading to Peter’s

bedroom. She walked in, always impressed by the

opulence of this room, a master suite in every sense of the

word, with custom furniture, inlaid wood floors, and every

amenity imaginable, from the flat-screen TV on one wal to

the heated massage chaise in the spa-quality bathroom.

Peter’s suitcase was lying open on the bench at the foot of

the massive bed. His luggage, like everything else in his

life—with the exception of her—was top quality. Inside,

his clothes were packed in little winged mesh containers

designed to keep everything compact and wrinkle-free. It

was all very organized and orderly, just like Peter.

She lifted one side of the suitcase to fold it over, but the

containers dumped out. With a sigh, she started to restack

them, then froze.

In the corner of the suitcase was a familiar red Cartier ring

box…the ring Peter had first given her when she was

eighteen years old. She picked up the box and opened it to

reveal the spectacular redesigned ring. Peter had located

the original solitaire she’d pawned, magnificent in its own

right, and added large diamonds on either side of the

center stone. He told her it represented their past, their

present and their future, and that he would hold it for her

until she was ready.

Obviously, Peter meant to use their Vegas getaway as an

opportunity to propose.

What would she say?

She remembered what the white-haired jeweler had told

her. An engagement ring is just something nice to wear

while you make up your mind.

Carlotta removed the ring from the box and slid it onto her

left ring finger. After more than ten years, the original

band was snug, but the dazzling trio of diamonds took her

breath away.

The doorbel sounded, reverberating through the big,

empty house. She tugged on the ring, but it was stubborn

and would have to be loosened with soap. She jogged

down the stairs, thinking there must be a delivery, or

maybe the housekeeper had misplaced her keys.

When she checked the window next to the front door, her

heart vaulted.

Coop.

She flung open the door and soaked in the sight of him—

he wore dress jeans, a black T-shirt and low-heeled boots.

His longish hair and sideburns were trimmed, and the

color had returned to his cheeks. More than that—behind

the funky heavy-rimmed glasses he wore, the life was back

in his bright brown eyes. He grinned. “Hi.”

She launched herself at him and he caught her in a hug.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she said, laughing and crying and

hanging on for dear life. “It’s so good to see you, Coop.

Real y.”

He set her gently on her feet, but his hands lingered on her

waist. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Please, come in,” she said, pul ing him toward the door.

“I can’t,” he said with regret. “I heard through the

grapevine that you’re taking off for a few days, and I just

wanted to come by to thank you before you leave.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Coop, to anything I’ve

done.”

He pressed his lips together. “Jack told me you believed in

me…when no one else did.”

Carlotta winked. “Maybe I know you better than everyone

else.”

“I think you do,” he agreed quietly.

“Coop, what was it you had to do for Sarah Edlow that was

so important?”

He wiped his hand over the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t

want this to go any farther.”

“It won’t.”

He sighed and nodded. “After the…accident, I kept up with

Sarah. We got to be friends. When her tumor was

diagnosed, she asked me to help her select a surgeon. I

even went with her to appointments sometimes, to talk to

the doctors. When it became clear she was terminal, Sarah

revealed that she had put a son up for adoption when she

was a teenager. Her family didn’t know. She had managed

to locate him, but she didn’t want to meet him when she

was on death’s door. So Sarah put together a box of things

she wanted her son to have. She asked me to take it to

him and explain to him and his adoptive family why she

couldn’t be there herself.”

Coop stopped and his expression became haunted. “I gave

her my word. When it looked like I was going to be in jail

indefinitely, I panicked. After I was granted bail, I knew it

would probably be my only chance to keep my promise to

Sarah.” He shrugged. “After what I’d taken from her, it

seemed like a very smal request.”

Carlotta blinked back tears. “That sounds just like you.”

He looked down and picked up her left hand. “Wow, that’s

a much nicer engagement ring than the one I gave you,”

he teased in reference to the butterfly band she’d used to

convince the officer at the City Detention Center to let her

see her “fiancée.”

Carlotta blushed and she shook her head. “It’s not an

engagement ring. I mean—it’s an engagement ring, but I

haven’t accepted it.”

“You’re just wearing it?” he asked in an amused voice.

“Actually, I was just trying it on,” she said, feeling like a

complete idiot. “Um…it’s complicated.”

He grinned. “With you, I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Then he nodded toward his white Corvette convertible

sitting in the driveway. “I should go and let you get ready

for your trip.”

“I’l call you when I get back,” she said. “Maybe we can

have coffee and catch up.”

“I’d like that,” he said. Then he leaned forward and gave

her a brief kiss on the mouth.

Her lips remembered his, sending a little shudder of

happiness through her chest. She was ecstatic to see him

free…sober…back to his old self. It was especial y sweet

because a few days ago she couldn’t have imagined things

ending so wel .

She waved until he was gone, then walked back into the

house feeling strangely…let down. It was the lul , she

decided, after what seemed like a constant rush of

adrenaline over the past few weeks. Her step was lighter,

though, going back upstairs to retrieve their suitcases

because now she could go on her trip knowing that

everything was okay.

Michael was in a maximum-security mental institution.

Wes was drug-free and seemed to be head over heels for

his Meg.

Coop had been vindicated.

Peter was making plans for their future.

Jack was…Jack.

And she…

Carlotta frowned. What was her next step? Marriage?

Maybe a new career? Col ege? She toyed with the charms

on her bracelet—a puzzle piece, an aloha charm, three

hearts, two champagne glasses, and a woman whose arms

were crossed over her chest.

Maybe the charms didn’t have prophetic power…but it

was fun to think of all the possibilities.

She loosened the Cartier ring with soap and returned it to

the box, then repacked Peter’s bag and zipped it. His

suitcase was light because he hadn’t packed much. Hers

was light because she stil wanted to add things to it, so

she had no trouble getting them into her rental car.

On the drive to the townhouse, she called Hannah.

Her friend answered on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way to the airport. I just called to say

goodbye.”

“Try to enjoy yourself,” Hannah said dryly.

“Now, now,” Carlotta chided. “I intend to forget about

everything else for a while and just let go.” She frowned at

what sounded like intimate noises in the background. “Did

I call at a bad time?”

“Nah, this is fine,” said Hannah. “I told you, Fat Boy can

give head for hours. I just paid all my bil s and gave myself

a manicure.”

“Eww. I’m hanging up.”

“Are you sure? This might be as close to an orgasm as

you’re going to get for a while.”

“Goodbye, Hannah. I’l call you when I get back.” Carlotta

ended the call, shaking her head, unable to suppress a

laugh at her bawdy friend.

When Carlotta got to the townhouse, she grabbed her

suitcase and practically ran across the yard and up the

steps to avoid Mrs. Winningham. Luckily, she managed to

unlock the door and get inside with no interruptions.

She dashed in, wincing at the warm, stale air of the closed-

up house, and opened the suitcase on her bed. She went

through her closet and quickly picked the dresses, shoes,

and evening bags she wanted, plus a few pieces of lingerie

she hoped would help to get her and Peter over their

hump.

And hump, already.

When she zipped her suitcase a few minutes later, she was

getting a headache from not eating and too much

excitement. She carried the suitcase into the living room

and set it down, then went to the kitchen in search of

aspirin and a bottle of water.

Carlotta was tossing back the aspirin when she was struck

from behind. She went reeling sideways and careened into

the breakfast bar, bashing her head on the counter. She

gasped for air and choked on the bitter pil s. When her

vision cleared, she saw the flash of a knife.

The only thing worse than getting aspirin stuck in one’s

throat, Carlotta decided, was getting aspirin stuck in one’s

throat, and then having one’s throat slit.

33

Carlotta lifted her gaze from the knife, to the hand holding

the knife, to the arm holding up the hand holding the

knife, to the shoulder supporting the arm that held the

hand holding the knife, to the neck connected to the

shoulder supporting the arm that held the hand holding

the knife, to the head supported by the neck connected to

the shoulder supporting the arm that held the hand

holding the knife.

Dr. Bruce Abrams.

She screamed as if her hair was on fire.

He winced. “Stop it. No one can hear you. Your nosy

neighbor is sleeping off a little chloroform coma…she

won’t be calling the police anytime soon.”

“It was you,” Carlotta murmured, marveling how a knock

on the noggin could make one see things in a different

way. “You set up Coop. You sent him to retrieve the bodies

of the women you kil ed. You wanted him out of the way.”

The doctor glared at her with beady eyes. “Out of my

morgue, yes. He’s a drunken body hauler, but he stil acts

like he owns the place. My people go to him behind my

back. It’s a disgrace.”

A train was moving through her head. “Why? Why kil

those women? They were innocent.”

He shrugged. “Why not them? Everyone dies. They were

the lucky ones—they were allowed to die famously.

Victims of The Charmed Kil er.” He smiled, seemingly

proud of his handiwork.

“Why the charms?” she asked, stalling. She was on the

verge of passing out, but she had to keep talking. Keep him

talking.

Abrams laughed. “Shawna Whitt gave me the idea. I saw

her in the bookstore, flirting with other men, especial y

Coop. He never noticed her, but I did. I noticed she wore a

charm bracelet and when I saw that chicken charm, it was

like she’d handed me my answer. She chose me to kil her

to set up Coop, don’t you see?”

Carlotta saw that he was completely insane.

He sneered. “And everything was fine until you got

involved. I knew you were going to be trouble. I tried to