Bond, Stephanie - Body Movers 05 (20 page)

The GBI agents apparently had already drafted the

questions to be asked.

Irritation flashed over the examiner’s face, then he looked

at her and clasped his jittery hands. “I’l be asking you nine

questions. Some of them wil be baseline questions, like

your name and age, some wil be control questions to

determine your general tendency toward honesty, and

some wil be questions relevant to The Charmed Kil er

case. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “Okay. The questions relevant to the case are

questions Agents Wick and Green already asked you

during your interview. If you answer truthful y and your

answer is the same as before, you don’t have anything to

worry about.” He leveled his gaze on her. “It’s customary

to remember details about an event after an interview.

With that in mind, is there anything you’d like to amend

regarding your previous interview with Agent Wick and

Agent Green?”

“No,” she said.

“Then let’s get started.”

He opened a case and removed the device and

corresponding wires and electrodes. Like a prom date with

a corsage, he couldn’t quite figure out where to put the

sensor straps around her chest, but with much sweating

and fumbling, he finally got her hooked up, then slid

sensors on two fingers on her right hand.

He removed a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead,

then flipped a few switches on the machine with floating

needles that scrawled marks across a rol of paper. The lie

detector hummed to life and the needles danced. She

imagined them writing in script “You are a big fat liar.”

“Okay, Ms. Wren—”

“Call me Carlotta,” she said with a smile.

His ears turned scarlet. “Uh…okay…Carlotta. I’l ask a

question and you should respond either yes or no.

Ready?”

She nodded and swallowed hard. And thought of Jack,

damn him. The needles on the machine jumped. Jack,

naked and holding himself over her…

“Is your name Carlotta Wren?”

“Yes.” Lowering his body onto hers…

“Do you have brown eyes?”

“Except when I wear my colored contacts.”

“Just answer yes or no, please.”

“Yes.” Thrusting into her like a piston, taking her breath

away…

“Are you right-handed?”

“Yes.” Kissing and biting her nipples until they sang…

“Have you ever taken something that wasn’t yours?”

She yanked her attention back to the question. According

to Angela Ashford, yes. And then there were all the parties

that she’d crashed. And the clothes she’d borrowed from

the store to wear to an event, although technically she’d

returned them afterward. Most of them.

“Ma’am? Have you ever taken something that wasn’t

yours?”

She exhaled. “Yes.” But memories of Jack pul ed her away

from the moment. He always made sure she got off first…

“Did you place a charm in the mouth of murder victim

Shawna Whitt?”

“No.” And last…

“Do you know the whereabouts of Randolph Wren?”

Carlotta bit down on her tongue. “No.”

“Have you had a romantic relationship with Detective Jack

Terry?”

She blinked, but then realized that romance had never

entered into her relationship with Jack. “No.”

“Have you ever told a lie?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“Do you know the identity of The Charmed Kil er?”

Did it count if she suspected Michael? She shifted in her

chair. “No, not for sure.”

“Yes or no, please.”

“No.”

He made a mark on the paper, then flipped off the

machine. “That’s all. You can remove the sensors.”

Carlotta slipped the devices off her fingers and began to

remove the straps around her chest. “Did I pass?”

The man looked up, his eyes noncommittal. “I’m sorry, but

I can’t divulge the results to you. You’l have to talk to

Agent Wick.”

“So I can leave now?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re done.”

She pushed to her feet and walked out of the examination

room. At the sight of the closed door next to the room

she’d been in, she rapped lightly, then opened it.

Agents Wick and Green and Detective Marquez had their

heads together, but turned toward her at the interruption.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Agent Wick said.

“When wil I know the results of my polygraph?”

“When I want you to know,” he replied.

Carlotta angled her head. “You’re kind of a dick, aren’t

you?”

“Carlotta,” Maria warned.

“Instead of getting out there trying to figure out if these

victims are connected and what the charms mean, you’re

wasting time giving me a lie detector test.”

Wick crossed his arms and smiled. “Who said it was a

waste of time? We’l be in touch, Ms. Wren.”

Carlotta blanched. Had she failed? Was that why they’d

been huddled together when she’d come into the room?

She backed away and exited to the lobby, picked up her

phone from Brooklyn and hurried outside to her scooter.

Had she just corroborated some piece of evidence that she

didn’t know they had?

With her brain ticking away, replaying the questions and

her responses, Carlotta rode to Coop’s home in

Castleberry Hil , a refurbished two-story car-repair shop.

She knocked and knocked, but he didn’t answer. She

cupped her hands and looked through the glass into the

living room-slash-garage and saw that his van was gone.

She called his cel phone but he didn’t answer. At the beep

she left him a message.

“Coop, hey, it’s Carlotta. I came over to say hel o, but

you’re not home. Give me a call when you get a chance. I

miss talking to you.”

She disconnected the call, thinking he was probably at the

morgue lab, that The Charmed Kil er had managed to

infiltrate all their lives in one way or another. She

backtracked and rode the Vespa to Lenox Square Mall. She

was careful to park near a light and in an open space, just

as she’d promised Jack after her car had been blown to

bits. While she was putting her purse in her locker, and

getting ready to take her place on the floor, her mind

reeled over al the loose ends that the GBI should be

fol owing up on.

Walking through the store, she glanced around, wondering

if her coworkers had read the bit in the paper about her

father being named a person of interest in The Charmed

Kil er case. Granted, many of them hadn’t been around

when Randolph had made headlines all those years ago,

and wouldn’t make the connection to her even if they’d

seen it. But Patricia Alexander knew that Randolph was

her father, as did many of the store’s clientele. And

nothing tasted as good to Atlanta high society as a nice

juicy scandal.

When she reached her designated department, her

bodyguard, Herb, was already there, loitering between a

rack of Tory Burch tunics and Chetta B floral skirts. He

might as wel have been waving a flag. He nodded and she

smiled back, glad that customers were waiting so she

could forget about everything else for a while. Coop had

challenged her to do more with her life than work retail,

but there was something to be said about transforming a

mousy wall-flower into a vivacious name-taker with a

single kil er suit.

For the most part, sel ing clothes was a pretty cheery

business to be in. The worst-case daily scenario was not

having the right color or size of a particular gorgeous thing.

Which was usually softened by the availability of the right

color or size of any one of several other gorgeous things.

The people on both ends of the transaction usually walked

away happy. And retail therapy was exactly what she

needed to forget that she knew too much about the layout

of the midtown APD precinct.

Not to mention the layout of Detective Jack Terry.

Stil , as much as she tried to forget about the polygraph

exam and the fact that The Charmed Kil er was probably

out there right now circling his next victim, her mind kept

going to those dark places. Was the kil er eyeing an

innocent woman, savoring how he was going to snuff out

her life? Fingering a charm in his pocket that he would

cram down the woman’s throat afterward?

A chil crawled over her shoulders, as if someone had just

walked over her grave. She could swear the temperature

had suddenly dropped a few degrees.

“Wel , wel , wel .”

Carlotta swung around to see Tracey Tul y Lowenstein

standing there, her eyes heavy lidded and her mouth

tightened in a little knot. She was sheathed head to toe in

St. John and sporting over-size Versace sunglasses.

Carlotta armed herself with a smile.

“Hi, Tracey. I take it you came in for our sale.”

Tracey frowned. “I don’t shop sales.”

“Okay. How can I help you?”

“Actually, I’m here to help you.”

Carlotta blinked. “Excuse me?”

Tracey slowly removed her sunglasses. “Some of the

members of the club are…concerned.”

“Concerned?”

“About your relationship with the woman on the

waitstaff.”

“Hannah?”

“The tattooed one, yes.”

“Hannah and I have been friends for a long time. She’s a

good person.”

“She’s a thief.”

Carlotta set her jaw, then leaned in to speak in low tones.

“You have no right to say that.”

A smug expression settled on Tracey’s face. “Just because

no one saw her take Bebe’s purse doesn’t mean she’s

innocent.”

Carlotta crossed her arms. “Actually, it does. And I resent

you blaming her simply because you don’t like the way she

looks.”

Tracey made a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t come here to

talk about your delinquent friend. I’ve already arranged for

her to be fired.”

Carlotta gasped as anger barbed through her. “You what?

How dare you?”

“You should know that your friend had worked every

event where purses were stolen.”

“That doesn’t prove anything!”

Tracey’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “What’s done is

done. I’m here because I was designated by some of the

ladies of the club to talk to you about…your future.”

“Designated? You and your friends have been discussing

me?”

“We just want what’s best for you,” Tracey insisted, her

voice tinny. “And considering that your father bilked huge

sums of money from several members of Bedford Manor,

what’s best is if you don’t return to the club.”

Carlotta’s jaw dropped. “Is this a joke? I’m not applying for

membership at the club. I was Peter’s guest.”

Tracey clucked. “The social committee doesn’t like to

abuse its power, but we do have the authority to ban

guests if we deem their presence to be injurious to

members.”

“Injurious?” Where was her stun baton when she needed

it?

“Before you take offense, Carlotta, you really should think

about Peter.”

“What do you mean?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Peter has been through so much, I’d hate to see his club

membership jeopardized because he was keeping the

wrong company. And if he left the club, he’d lose social

contact with so many of his clients, I can’t imagine what

that might do to his career.”

Carlotta’s face burned and her throat ached from pent-up

rage.

“I feel sorry for you, really I do,” Tracey cooed, pushing her

sunglasses back in place. “First your father embezzles from

his company and friends, then he abandons you and your

brother, and now you find out that he might be a serial

kil er. I swear, how do you sleep at night?”

Carlotta blinked back tears. She refused to let the woman

get to her.

“Ms. Wren, is this lady bothering you?”

She looked up to see Herb peering at Tracey.

“It’s you!” Tracey said. “No wonder you took Carlotta’s

side at the club. You know each other!”

“The lady was just leaving,” Carlotta assured Herb, then

gave Tracey a pointed look.

Thankful y from her jacket pocket Carlotta’s cel phone

rang. Atlanta Police Department scrol ed onto the display

screen. Carlotta turned her back on Tracey and connected

the cal , craving the sound of Jack’s voice. “Hel o?”

“Carlotta, this is Maria Marquez.”

Disappointment shot through her, but she inhaled to

steady her voice. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“I was told to call and give you the results of your

polygraph.”

Carlotta touched her forehead. “Lay it on me.”

“The results were D.I.”

“What does that mean, D.I.?”

“It means…deception indicated.”

17

“Hand me that wrench,” Wesley said from the top of a

ladder.

Chance looked at the toolbox open at his feet and

scratched his head. “Which one is that?”

Wesley rol ed his eyes. “The shiny silver thing on top.”

Chance picked up the tool and handed it to Wesley. “Have

you ever put in a security system before?”

“No, but it’s just a lot of wiring, basic electrical stuff.”

“Dude, why didn’t you hire it done?”

“I barely had enough cash to pay for the system. I couldn’t