Six Killer Bodies (16 page)

him to screw up his sorry life. Later.”

“Bye,” she said, then ended the call. Carlotta pressed the

little phone to her mouth to stem the tide of panic that

rose in her throat. If Wesley didn’t kick this habit, it would

eventually consume him. The information describing

OxyContin addiction she’d found online was harrowing.

Wesley could die.

“Carlotta, are you okay?”

She turned to see Patricia Alexander walking toward her,

wearing a pink Chanel skirt suit and white pumps. Carlotta

straightened and dropped the phone into her purse,

unwil ing to reveal too much about her personal life to

Patricia. “I’m fine, thanks. Just getting ready to go inside.

Are you on today?”

“Yes, until closing.”

“Me, too.” Carlotta held open the door for her coworker

and fol owed her inside Neiman’s. “Patricia, you should

know that Michael Lane was sighted at a cigar bar in town

last weekend, and his hair is now blond.”

Patricia’s eyes widened. “Blond? I’l bet he looks hideous.”

Carlotta smiled wryly at the woman’s back. “Maybe that’l

make him easier to spot.”

They walked through the store to the employee break

room. “Looks busy today,” Patricia remarked, but she

seemed distracted.

“Good. That always makes the day go by more quickly.”

“And the bil s,” Patricia said softly as she swiped her

employee ID through a card reader to unlock the door to

the break room.

Carlotta gave her coworker a sideways glance. Patricia had

descended from old, big money, the kind that came with

cobwebs and professional oversight. Carlotta had always

assumed Patricia only worked because she wanted to,

which enabled her to maintain her status in social circles.

Employment in a nonprofessional capacity, especially for

women, was looked down upon only if one had to do it.

What kind of bil s could someone like Patricia have?

Taped to the front of their lockers was a memo. Patricia

groaned. “Inventory starts next Tuesday. I assume you’re

going to take vacation like most of the old-timers so you

can get out of it.”

Carlotta frowned. “It’s called seniority.” Then she grinned.

“And yes.”

When they stored their purses, Carlotta noticed that

Patricia’s expression was tight and she seemed nervous.

“I didn’t mean to worry you when I told you about

Michael,” Carlotta offered.

“That’s not what’s bothering me,” the young woman said,

then closed her locker with a sigh. “I’m…concerned about

Leo.”

“Your boyfriend, Leo? What’s wrong?”

Patricia fingered the lion charm on her bracelet, which she

believed meant she’d been destined to meet Leo. Carlotta

didn’t put as much faith in the charms as Patricia, but it

was hard to argue, especially since the woman’s bracelet

also featured a tiny baseball mitt and Leo Tennyson played

for the Atlanta Braves farm team.

“It’s…nothing I can put my finger on.” Patricia lifted her

gaze. “He just seems…dark. Moody. Maybe a little…I don’t

know—compulsive.”

Unease bubbled in Carlotta’s stomach. She’d met Leo

Tennyson once, the night of the club auction. Patricia had

gushed that they were late because his practice with the

Gwinnett Braves had run long. Carlotta’s encounter with

the man had been brief, but he’d struck her as surly and a

bit arrogant. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt,

though, since she assumed he was tired, and from the stiff

way he’d held himself in the tuxedo, that he was

uncomfortable in the posh setting. “Can you be more

specific?”

Patricia shrugged. “He flies off the handle at small

things…and sometimes he makes comments about other

women when we’re together.”

Carlotta bristled on the blonde’s behalf. “Patricia, you

shouldn’t accept that behavior from someone who’s

supposed to care about you.”

“But we’ve only been dating for a little while. Maybe I’m

expecting too much.”

“Don’t make excuses for him. This early in your

relationship, the man should be using his best manners. If

he’s disrespectful now, just think how he might be down

the road.”

Patricia averted her gaze, then looked back. “Have you

ever been afraid of a man?”

Carlotta closed her locker door. “Never a man I was in a

relationship with.”

“Not even Cooper Craft? Rumor has it that you two dated,

and he’s a serial kil er.”

“We didn’t date,” Carlotta corrected. “But the times I was

with Coop, no, I was never afraid of him.”

“So…I could be wrong about Leo, like you were wrong

about this Craft man.”

Carlotta shook her head. “I’m not wrong about Coop. I stil

believe Michael is The Charmed Kil er.”

“Then why did they arrest someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Carlotta murmured. “I just know that a

woman should almost always trust her instincts.”

Admittedly, it was the “almost” part that tripped her up.

“You’re so lucky, Carlotta. You have Peter.” The young

woman’s eyes got a dreamy look. “And it’s clear by the

way that man looks at you how he feels.”

“Peter is a wonderful man,” she agreed.

Patricia sighed. “Oh, wel , off to smel stinky feet all day.”

She plastered on a smile that Carlotta recognized—the one

that sales associates mastered to deal with cranky

customers on an unending day while a migraine needled

the back of their head—and left the break room.

Sympathy barbed through Carlotta’s chest. She’d seen lots

of women in Patricia’s shoes…and not just in the Shoes

department. Dating a man whose actions were just good

enough not to break up with him, yet not good enough to

sleep wel at night, and manic enough to make a woman

question her own sanity.

But Patricia was right about Peter, Carlotta thought as she

rode the escalator to her department on the second floor.

She was lucky to have someone who cared so much about

her. Of the three men who’d taken up residence in

different corners of her heart recently, only Peter had

been there for her throughout. Coop had his own issues,

and Jack had to save the world.

She scanned for Herb, the block-shouldered security guy

stationed somewhat blatantly in her department, and

frowned when she spotted him talking to her boss, Lindy

Russel . Herb was studying a sheet of paper that Lindy had

presumably given him.

“Hi,” Carlotta said, walking up.

“Hi, Carlotta,” Lindy said. “I was just showing Herb the

updated APB on Michael Lane. Apparently, he’s altered his

hair color.”

“To blond, yes. Did the police fax it to you?”

“Yes, Detective Marquez, I believe. She left me a voice

message saying she’d also sent a copy to mall security, and

to the company that manages the valet service.”

“That was nice of her,” Carlotta murmured. But she knew

Maria Marquez was only doing her job. No doubt the

female detective wanted Michael brought into custody for

many reasons, but one of them was probably so she, as a

profiler, could pick his brain. So far, Marquez had been

wrong about the part where Michael would kil Carlotta if

he got the chance. He hadn’t.

Yet.

“Herb, would you excuse us for a moment?” Lindy asked.

Herb skedaddled and Carlotta held her breath, waiting to

hear what her boss had to say. It could be so many things,

ranging from “You’re fired” to “Your car blew up in the

parking lot again” to “Your wages are being garnished by

the city for an unpaid water bil .”

Lindy smiled. “Congratulations, your sales are back on

top.”

Carlotta exhaled. “That’s great news, thanks.”

Then Lindy’s smile wavered. “Carlotta, as much as I would

like to, the company can’t provide a security guard for you

indefinitely.”

“I understand. Hopeful y Michael wil be apprehended

soon.”

“Yes. I’ve been authorized to extend the security detail

through next Monday. I do, however, have the authority to

grant you up to five days of paid leave under extraordinary

circumstances, and since inventory starts next Tuesday, I

thought it might be a good time to offer it to you.”

Carlotta blinked. “Paid leave? Wow…I mean, yes, thank

you.”

“I’l take care of the paperwork.” Lindy walked away, ever

aloof and professional. Carlotta marveled again over how

many second chances her boss had given her over the

years. Mired in the drama of her day-to-day life, it was

easy to overlook all the things she should be grateful for.

Like Peter.

As her shift wore on, Peter weighed on her mind even as

she waited on customers. She was eager to talk to him and

try to put things right between them again. So when he

appeared at her station a couple of hours later wearing

jeans and a pale yel ow short-sleeve button up shirt, she

thought for a minute she’d conjured him up.

She smiled wide. “Peter.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, without preamble.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I don’t want to keep things

from you. We’re supposed to be getting to know each

other.”

“You’re right,” he said. “And I realize I haven’t made it easy

for you to share with me, but I can change.”

Her heart swelled. “Me, too.”

He held up a bag. “I brought you lunch.”

She grinned. “Is this yesterday’s lunch?”

“No, I ate yesterday’s lunch. Today is peanut butter and

jel y.”

Delighted, Carlotta reached for it. “My favorite.”

“With fresh strawberries and dry-roasted peanuts.”

“Wow, I can’t wait.” She pressed her lips together. “Thank

you so much, Peter. I’ve been thinking about you ever

since I left the house.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m all ears.”

Carlotta moistened her lips, conscious of the big step she

was taking. “How about this? We make plans to leave for

Vegas next Tuesday for five days, and you don’t give me a

hard time about looking into The Charmed Kil er case

between now and then.”

A hopeful smile erupted on Peter’s face. “I think I can live

with that.”

15

Carlotta took a deep breath and strode into the lobby of

the midtown precinct of the Atlanta Police Department.

She’d been in this place so often in the past few months,

she knew how many tiles were in the lobby ceiling and

that D4 in the vending machine would drop two of

whatever snack item happened to be in the slot.

She walked up to the counter and smiled at her friend

Brooklyn who dutiful y manned the check-in process

behind a presumably bul etproof window. “Hi, Brook.”

The woman grinned and leaned. “Wel , hi, girl. What

brings you here?”

“I have an appointment to speak with GBI agents Wick and

Green.”

Brook checked her computer screen. “About your

boyfriend?”

“I’m sorry?”

“McHenry over at City Detention called to get the

lowdown on you. Said you were engaged to The Charmed

Kil er?”

“Uh…wel , that was a little misunderstanding.”

“Got Jack Terry over there in a hurry, didn’t it?”

Carlotta frowned. “Jack is a busybody.”

Brooklyn laughed. “Yeah. The man’s body has been busy

lately, if you know what I mean.”

She bit her tongue to keep from asking, but couldn’t help

it. “With Maria Marquez?”

“That’s the rumor.” The woman picked up the phone and

punched a couple of buttons. “Carlotta Wren is here.”

Carlotta wasn’t sure why the news bothered her. She’d

suspected that Jack and his new partner would hook up

eventually. They were both gorgeous, single people who

spent a lot of time together in situations where the

adrenaline ran high.

Brook hung up the phone. “Don’t look so long in the face.

Only two ways something like that can end, and you and I

know Jack Terry ain’t the marrying kind.”

“I’m just nervous about the interview,” Carlotta

murmured.

“Why? You didn’t kil all those women.”

“Let’s just say Agent Wick isn’t a fan of mine.”

The woman gave a dismissive wave. “Brother ain’t so bad.

Could use some biscuits and gravy to put a little meat on

those long bones of his, though.”

Carlotta smiled. “Brooklyn, are you crushing on Agent

Wick?”

“Crushin’ is right, if I got on top of him,” Brook said, giving

a hearty laugh that sent her generous curves bouncing.

She hit a button to unlock the secure door that led to the

administrative area. “Go on back.”

Carlotta walked through, surprised to see Jack standing at

the coffee station waiting for her. She’d assumed Brook

had been talking to one of the GBI agents. Jack looked

freshly showered. His col ar stood up and his unknotted tie

hung around his shoulders. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” She hoped like hel something had

happened overnight to make her interview unnecessary.

“Give me some good news, Jack.”

He lifted his coffee cup for a sip. “Apple stock is up.”

“Very funny. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from