Body Movers 4 - 4 Bodies and a Funeral (19 page)

could tel he was holding back and she didn’t press for

more. Her cel phone rang, giving them a good reason to

part. When she glanced at the caller ID, her heart

squeezed. Peter Ashford had the most uncanny sense of

timing of anyone she knew.

“I’l get these motion detectors in place,” Jack said, then

carried his duffel to the door.

She nodded and connected the call. “Hel o?”

“Carly, it’s me. I just heard on the news that Michael Lane

escaped. Do you know anything about it?”

“Unfortunately, it’s true. The police came to work to let

me know.”

“I’m coming to get you. You should stay with me tonight.

Wesley, too.”

“Thanks, but the police are watching the house tonight.

We’re fine,” she said guiltily, knowing he would think she

meant her and Wesley.

Instead of her and Jack.

“Okay, wel , how about dinner? I can get something

gourmet from Eatzi’s, something to share.”

“Thanks, but we’re good. I really appreciate it, though.

You’re so thoughtful, Peter.” It was true—he was

considerate and generous to a fault, seemingly

determined to make up for the time in her life when he

hadn’t been.

“If you’re sure,” he said, his voice sounding worried…and

disappointed.

“I’m sure,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “This wil

probably be over tomorrow, and everything wil be back to

normal.”

“If you say so. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I wil .” She disconnected the call, feeling small and

traitorous. When she was with Peter, she always enjoyed

herself…found herself slipping back into old habits, into

old feelings.

But when she wasn’t with Peter…

The door opened and Jack reappeared. “We’re good for

now.” He held up a black box that looked like some kind of

receiver. “If anyone comes around, we’l know about it.”

He closed the door and pul ed at his tie. “I’m starved—

how does pizza sound?”

“It sounds great,” she said with a sinking feeling in her

stomach precisely because it sounded so great. “Fel ini’s?”

“Absolutely.” He pul ed his phone from his belt. “I have the

number stored.”

And just like that, they fel into a routine, she realized, like

a couple of old…friends.

The pizza arrived, which proved to be a good test for the

motion detector. A red light on the black box lit up and an

alarm sounded. Jack answered the door to check out the

delivery guy, but all was legitimate. They found sodas in

the fridge and a Braves game on the warped TV. A few

minutes later, Jack took a cal on his phone, and she could

tel by the look on his face that the news wasn’t good.

He disconnected the call. “They had to call off the search

because it got too dark. They’l resume tomorrow

morning.”

“Are you on duty all night?”

“Officially, I’m off at midnight. But I’l be staying.”

That was Jack—he didn’t ask permission, just said how it

was going to be. He lost his jacket and tie, and rol ed up his

shirtsleeves. They turned down the lights and sprawled on

the couch. But as the night progressed, their legs migrated

to touch, then their shoulders.

“You want another piece of pizza?” she asked.

“One more,” he agreed, holding out his plate.

She picked up the wedge of pie, but instead of putting it

on his plate, she brought it close to his mouth to feed it to

him.

He took a bite and chewed slowly, his hungry gaze locked

with hers. Then he groaned. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know what.” He gestured to her cleavage. “Don’t be

all sexy. I’m on duty.”

She checked her watch. “Only for another hour.”

He took the pizza from her and dropped it in his plate.

“You’re kil ing me. Let’s talk about something else.

Quickly.”

“Okay. Any leads on Eva McCoy’s stolen bracelet?”

“No. And frankly, I couldn’t care less. But McCoy’s uncle,

the senator, is calling the mayor’s office every day.

Apparently, the woman’s practically gone into hiding, she’s

so upset over losing the damn bracelet. Once Michael Lane

is back in a straitjacket, we’l start canvassing pawnshops.”

“Eva might have gone into hiding, but her charm bracelets

are sel ing like hotcakes.”

“What can I say? Crime pays.” He took another bite of

pizza and cheered when the game went into extra innings.

She bit her lip. “Have you heard anything else about my

father’s fingerprints being found at the hotel in Daytona?”

“No. And on closer examination, I discovered that the

identification was made on only an eight-point match.”

“What does that mean?”

“That the prints lifted and your father’s prints were

matched on eight identifying marks. The FBI uses a twelve-

point standard, and our state crime lab likes at least nine.

So eight is suspect, at best.”

“You’re saying they might not have been my father’s prints

after al ?”

“Right. Or they could’ve been. Regardless, there haven’t

been any more leads.”

Other than the fact that her father had come up to her at a

rest area as she’d traveled back to Atlanta from Florida.

After Jack had told her that her father’s fingerprints had

been lifted from the scene of a hotel robbery, she’d

hitched a ride with Coop on an out-of-state body pickup as

a way to get to the hotel to check it out herself. In the end,

she’d had to confess to Coop that her reasons for going

along hadn’t been for the romantic getaway that he’d

hoped for.

“Jack, about Shawna Whitt—”

“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hand. “Case closed,

remember?”

“I was actually going to ask if you think Coop is okay.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Did you notice anything strange about his behavior last

night?”

“New rule,” he said, setting aside the half-eaten pizza. “No

talking about other men when you’re naked with me.”

“But I’m not naked.”

“Which I intend to remedy in the next sixty seconds. You

know, since I ate dinner on the job, technically, the city

owes me an hour.”

“Real y?”

“Uh-hmm,” he said, pul ing her over to straddle his lap. He

looked up at her and sighed. “What am I going to do with

you?”

“Last I heard, you were getting me naked,” she murmured.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said, lifting the hem of her

camisole.

“I know.” She raised her arms to be rid of the flimsy top,

then unhooked her bra and let it fly, too.

He groaned and his erection surged beneath her. He

leaned forward to draw a nipple into his mouth. Carlotta

sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stood

and carried her to her bedroom, then laid her on the bed.

“This won’t change anything,” he said as if he were

chal enging her to stop while they stil could.

“I know. In the morning, things wil stil be complicated.”

She unbuttoned her jeans and shed them, along with her

panties, eager to have his big, warm body against hers.

Jack undressed quickly, stopping to retrieve a condom

from his wallet. He crawled on top of her and smoothed

her hair back from her temple.

“When I’m right here, it’s the only time I know you’re

safe,” he whispered roughly, then lifted her knee and

surged forward.

But a piercing noise made them both freeze—the motion

detector alarm.

“Shit,” Jack muttered, and was off the bed in one

movement, reaching for his pants with one hand, his gun

with the other.

Carlotta scrambled off the bed and found her panties. She

stepped into them, then grabbed her long chenil e robe

and shrugged into it as she crept down the hallway into

the living room.

Jack stood next to the picture window, holding the curtain

aside a few inches and peering outside.

“Is anyone out there?” she whispered.

“Uh, yeah,” he said just as the doorbel rang. Jack

straightened and lowered his gun. “I think you’d better get

it.”

Frowning, she stepped to the door and looked through the

peephole, expecting to see Wesley. Instead, Coop was

standing on the stoop. She gasped. “What’s Coop doing

here after midnight?”

“I don’t know, but this should be interesting,” Jack said

drily.

She swung open the door and noticed instantly that Coop

seemed disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands

through his hair. “Coop?”

He smiled. “Hi.” Then he noticed what she was wearing.

“It’s late. I got you up, didn’t I?”

“No, I was just…getting ready for bed. Is something

wrong?”

“Uh, maybe,” he said. “I…didn’t know where else to go.”

“Come in,” she said, pul ing him inside. She closed the

door and turned on a light.

When Coop saw Jack, he frowned, then realization

dawned on his face. He strode back to the door. “I’m

sorry—I shouldn’t have come.”

“Coop, it’s fine,” she said hurriedly.

“I’m here on police business,” Jack said, and explained

about Michael Lane.

“Oh, right,” Coop said slowly. “I did hear something about

that on the news. I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“The guy was here earlier today,” Jack said. “He left a

souvenir on the door. I was afraid he’d come back.”

Carlotta spotted her bra on the floor and nudged it under

a chair with her foot.

When Coop looked dubious, Jack nodded to the couch.

“I’m sleeping out here, man. I’ve got motion detectors set

up outside.” He set his gun on a side table.

“Sit down, Coop,” Carlotta urged. “What’s wrong?”

When Coop didn’t respond, Jack cleared his throat. “I think

I’l give you two some privacy.” Then he crossed to the

guest bathroom.

After the door closed, she looked back to Coop. “Have you

been drinking?”

He turned and walked away a couple of steps, pushing his

hand into his hair. “No. But I want to.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “No one thing. That’s how it is. Little

things build until one day you just want a drink.” He

turned back, his expression anguished. “I’m sorry. I had no

right to come over here and burden you with my

problems.”

“Of course you had a right,” she soothed. “I’m glad you

came. You’l stay here tonight. Wesley’s spending the night

with a friend. You can sleep in his room.”

“No, I couldn’t impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” she said softly, then touched his

arm until he looked at her. “I don’t think you should be

alone tonight.”

He nodded, his shoulders bowed with relief. The door

opened and Jack emerged.

“Coop is going to stay in Wesley’s room tonight,” she said

to Jack.

“If that’s okay with you, Jack,” Coop added warily.

Jack came to stand on the other side of Carlotta. “It’s not

my house, man. Carlotta decides who sleeps over…and

where they sleep.” He looked at Carlotta. “You were just

about to get me a pil ow for the couch?”

“Right,” she said, tingling with embarrassment under his

sardonic gaze. She went to the closet in the hall and

removed two pil ows and two sets of sheets. “Here you

are,” she said, handing one set to Jack.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes lit with amusement. She

sent a warning glance to him, then turned to Coop.

“I brought a fresh pil ow and linens for you, too, Coop.

Wesley’s pil ow is so hard, no one else could possibly sleep

on it.”

“Thank you.” His expression was grateful…and regretful.

“Wel …good night,” she said brightly, then walked to her

room. At the door she paused and looked back to see both

men standing there, holding a stack of linens, both of them

watching her. She gave a little wave, then walked into her

room. When she closed the door, she leaned against it and

expel ed a pent-up sigh.

Minus ten points for her and Jack being interrupted. But

plus ten for pul ing Coop back from the brink.

All in all, she guessed she was even for the night.

14

Wesley checked his watch. He had just enough time to

grab a clean shirt and check on Einstein before he went to

work—

He stopped short at the sight of Coop’s white van in the

driveway. From the dew settled on the vehicle and the

driveway around it, it was clear the van had been there all

night.

He hesitated before going inside—he didn’t want to

interrupt anything.

On the other hand, Coop finally scoring with Carlotta

might mean that Coop would be more open to calling him

to work with him again sometime. The man was bound to

be in a good mood this morning.

Deciding the best tact would be to act as if nothing was

amiss, he unlocked the door and swung it open, then

walked in whistling.

“I’m home,” he called loudly. Since he could hear activity

in the kitchen, he headed in that direction.

He walked in to see Coop and Carlotta sitting at the

breakfast table looking pretty darn comfortable with each

other, both reading a different section of the newspaper.

As much as he liked Coop, it was a shock to his senses to