Read Bond, Stephanie - Body Movers 05 Online
Authors: Jill
phrase, but yeah.”
“You gonna try again?”
“I don’t know. I think we’re both under too much
pressure.”
Carlotta plugged in the blender, then tossed in a couple of
scoops of kitty litter. Hannah added two scoops of flour,
then pulsed the mixture until it was evenly combined. She
lifted the lid for a peek. “Looks like a match to me.”
Carlotta agreed and they dumped the contents into the
urn.
“Do you think it looks like a whole person’s worth of
ashes?” Hannah asked.
“I think so.” Carlotta put the lid back on top and slid it to
the middle of the table with a sigh of relief.
“What’s this?” Hannah asked, gesturing to the notebook
Carlotta had been writing in prior to the incident.
“Just random notes I’ve been keeping on The Charmed
Kil er.”
Hannah turned the pages, skimming them. “Wow…you got
your own little investigation going on here.”
“Not really. I promised Peter I would…stay out of it.”
Hannah gestured to the sketches of the charms in the
margins. “Yeah, I can see that you’re not into this at all.”
“Randolph’s name came up as a potential suspect.”
“Wow, I’m sorry.”
“I haven’t said anything to Wesley.”
Hannah set down the notebook. “You and Wesley keep a
lot of things from each other.”
Carlotta’s head came up. “Is Wesley keeping something
from me?”
Hannah pressed her black lips together.
“Hannah, do you know something?”
“Just that he seems a little manic to me, and his hands
shake a lot. Are you sure he’s not on something?”
Carlotta’s heart raced, but she tried to keep her voice
steady. “He stole two prescriptions I had left on my pain
pil s. And I found a generic OxyContin tablet on his
bathroom floor. But he told me he only took those
because of what that animal The Carver did to his arm, but
that he’d quit.”
“Fair enough.”
“Besides, he has to give urine samples when he sees his
probation officer. He gets tested for drugs regularly.”
“Sweetie, there are additives to mask drugs in urine
samples, and people who do drugs know all about them.”
Carlotta turned away, feeling like an idiot.
“I don’t know anything for sure,” Hannah added lamely.
“How could you have noticed it and I didn’t? Am I that
blind?”
Hannah hesitated, then exhaled. “Okay, I’m shagging Fat
Boy.”
Carlotta’s eyes went wide. “You’re sleeping with Chance
Hol ander?”
“Technically, we’re not getting much sleep.”
“You give me a hard time about sleeping with Peter, and
you’re climbing on top of that mountain?”
Hannah shrugged. “He’s sweet, okay? He fucking worships
me. And he’s hung like a goddamn mule.”
“But…Chance Hol ander?”
“Forget it, okay? It won’t last. It never does.”
Carlotta sobered. “Does Chance think Wesley is hooked on
something?”
Hannah chewed the side of her mouth. “He…might have
intimated something to that effect.”
She thought she was going to be il . “What drug?”
“Oxy.”
Carlotta exhaled. “It’s rich that Chance is worried about
him. He’s probably the one who sel s it to him.”
“He says he’s been trying to warn Wesley off.”
“From one druggie to another?”
“Chance is a pothead, but that’s it as far as I can tel . Most
dealers know to stay away from the stuff.” Hannah sighed.
“For what it’s worth, I think Chance really cares about
Wesley. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I
thought you should know.”
“Thanks,” Carlotta said past a tightened throat.
“And maybe it’s nothing.”
“How am I supposed to know? Wes has already lied to
me.”
“You might look into one of those over-the-counter drug
tests. For some of them, all you need is fingernail
clippings, or hair. At least you’d have proof.”
Carlotta nodded—one more thing to add to the list.
“Thanks for the advice. And for helping me clean up.” She
glanced at her watch. “I have to get ready for work. Christ,
I’m going to be late again.”
“Okay, I’m outta here. Call me.”
“I wil . And Hannah?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. There’s a guy out there doing horrible things
to women.”
Hannah face softened. “You, too.”
She let Hannah out, and waved goodbye, her chest tight
with affection for her friend, and her mind reeling over
new revelations about her brother. She kept hoping
Wesley would turn a corner, that spending time with Coop
had been a positive experience for him. But now it seemed
that Coop was also losing his way…
Carrying a heavy heart, she climbed the stairs. When she
went into her room, she saw the bed skirt move and her
mood took another dive. “Ah, so this is where you’re
hiding, you bad, bad kitty.”
The Persian’s fluffy head appeared.
“Do you know how much trouble you caused?”
Meow.
Carlotta thought about her comment to Hannah, that the
cat was the reincarnation of Angela. The timing of the
stray showing up, the destructive behavior toward
Carlotta, the fixation on Peter…it was all so bizarre.
Carlotta wet her lips and looked around the room to make
sure she was alone, then crouched toward the cat. “Are
you Angela?”
The cat simply looked at her and blinked.
“Are…you…Angela?” she asked, enunciating slowly, in case
the cat had trouble understanding her.
The Persian opened its mouth and Carlotta waited,
breathless and prepared to levitate if the cat started
talking.
Instead, the cat yawned widely, then licked its chops.
Carlotta frowned. “Fine. But I’m putting you on notice—
there isn’t room in this house for two pussies, do you
understand, you little furball?”
She peeled off her pajamas and stuffed them in the
garbage can along with her house shoes. Even if she got
them clean she wouldn’t be able to wear them again
without thinking about what had happened.
She shuddered anew and stepped into the shower where
she quickly scrubbed her skin and hair. Then she jumped
out and dressed in record time, choosing skinny-leg black
jeans, a teal-colored swing tunic and long striped scarf.
She stuck her feet into the Prada pumps she’d set at the
end of the bed, then made a face. Something was in the
right one—something squishy…and brown.
She pul ed out her foot and from the stench, it was clear
what had been deposited in her shoe. “Ewwwwww!”
She glared at the Persian standing next to the door, tail
high, almost smiling. Carlotta launched the shoe at the cat,
but she darted safely out into the hallway and down the
stairs.
And Carlotta could swear the beast was laughing.
27
“Earth to Wesley.”
He blinked Meg into focus. “What?”
She sat across a worktable, twirling the end of her blond
ponytail. She was chewing gum and blowing little bubbles.
Every time the tip of her tongue appeared, his pants got
tighter.
“I said I’l be running the job to extract test data from all
the databases later this week.”
“What’s the holdup?”
She blew a bubble and it popped. “What’s the hurry?”
“No hurry,” he said, then shifted in his seat.
“You’re juiced.”
Wesley used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his
forehead. “No, I’m not.” He hadn’t had an Oxy hit since
waking up…and he was suffering. “I think I’m coming down
with something.”
“Too bad. I was going to ask you to go somewhere with
me.”
He blinked. “Where?”
She studied her blue fingernails. “It’s an industry-reception
thingy my dad is hosting, and I have to go. I thought if you
went with me, it would be less brutal.”
He swallowed hard. “Sorry, I can’t.”
Meg frowned. “I didn’t even give you a date.”
“Oh. When is it?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
He scratched his temple. “Yeah, see…I’m not good with
the whole parent thing.”
She nodded. “So you thought you’d just date me and we’d
screw and you’d never have to face my dad?”
Wesley squinted. “We’re dating? And screwing?”
“Apparently not.”
He held up his hands in a T. “Okay, time-out. You’ve been
ignoring me for days.”
She shrugged. “My time of the month…I’ve been moody.
Besides, you were an ass about my friend Mark.”
“You mean your gay boyfriend Mark with the prissy
shorts?”
“See? That’s assy.”
His mind was chugging to catch up to her passive-
aggressive logic, but he gave up. “I’m lost.”
“Never mind, you wouldn’t have fit in anyway.”
Wow, that hurt. He pursed his mouth and nodded, then
started loading his backpack to leave. It was true,
but…damn.
“I mean, everyone there wil be older. You’d be bored to
death.”
He zipped up his bag and swung it over his shoulder.
“But why don’t you come anyway?” she asked.
Wes looked up at her and that was his undoing. Meg was
smiling a sexy smile, her cherry-red mouth shiny and
plump. He wanted to kiss that mouth. Her eyes challenged
him…and she was stil twirling her hair. He wondered
briefly what she would look like with her hair down and
loose around her shoulders.
He considered blurting that her father had hired a P.I. to
fol ow him, and would likely nix the invitation anyway.
That if Wesley made it as far as the door of the reception,
Dr. Vincent would have him booted out post introductions.
The idea actually cheered him a little. What a gas it would
be to meet the great Dr. Vincent, for the man to realize
the thug he’d had investigated was smart enough to sneak
into his hoity-toity lecture.
“Suit yourself,” Meg said with a shrug.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You wil ?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
That mouth—Jesus God. “Okay.” He turned and walked
toward the exit before he spontaneously combusted. He
wiped his sleeve across his forehead and swallowed
against a sudden bout of queasiness. He wasn’t sure if it
was withdrawal from the Oxy, or panic over accepting the
date with Meg.
Both conditions left him equally nauseous.
28
As soon as Carlotta walked into Neiman’s, Patricia
Alexander tracked her down.
“I thought you’d like to know the Bedford Manor Country
Club is offering self-defense classes this weekend.”
Carlotta gave her a tight smile. “Thanks, but I was told I
wasn’t welcome at the club.”
Patricia frowned. “By Tracey?”
“How did you guess?”
The helmet-haired blonde gave a dismissive wave. “Tracey
was just worked up over your friend stealing.”
Carlotta glared. “My friend Hannah would never steal.”
Patricia looked sympathetic. “There haven’t been any
purses stolen since your friend was fired.”
“That doesn’t make her guilty.” Carlotta crossed her arms.
“And I don’t intend to go back to Bedford Manor until
Hannah is offered her job back by the caterer.”
“Carlotta, don’t be sil y. Peter’s father is on the club’s
board. If you’re going to date Peter, you’l be spending a
lot of time there. Pick your battles.” The woman turned
and walked away.
Carlotta wanted to scream, but Patricia was right. The club
was a big part of Peter’s social and professional life. If she
and Peter were going to be a couple, she couldn’t very
wel boycott Bedford because they’d fired a member of
the waitstaff.
She made her way over to Herb, who was wearing a hole
in the carpet next to a rack of bathing suits. He was
holding up a tiny bikini comprising of three tiny triangles
and a handful of string as if he was trying to figure out the
logistics.
“Hi, Herb.”
He jumped, then hung the bikini back on the rack, his face
red. “Hi, Carlotta.”
“I was wondering if there are any new leads on the purse
snatcher at the Bedford Manor Country Club.”
“Nope. I hate to say it, miss, but it looks as if your friend is
the likely culprit. If Ms. Plank hadn’t declined to file
charges, we would’ve had to make an arrest. And
considering the value of al the purses stolen, plus their
contents, your friend would’ve been looking at time.”
“I wish Bebe had pressed charges so Hannah could’ve
proved her innocence.”
The man nodded politely, but she could tel he, too,
believed that Hannah was a thief.
Frustrated, Carlotta returned to her station, tossed back
an Excedrin for the headache she was nursing, and tried to
concentrate on sales. Her department was busy, but she
remained distracted all day. Between tending to
customers, her mind jumped from one personal dilemma
to another and the helplessness she felt at not being able
to resolve any of them. First and foremost, though, her
mind kept coming back to Wesley.
Carlotta went back and forth between wishing she’d
trusted her instincts when she’d first learned of the stolen
prescriptions of Percocet and found the Oxy tablet on his