Authors: Stephanie Bond
had said before he left the auction that night. Looks like
the Lindelhoff baby decided to come early. “Check to see if
a baby with the last name of Lindelhoff was born at
Piedmont Hospital the night of the auction at Bedford
Manor.”
“Do you want to tel me what this is about?”
“Just a hunch…it might be nothing.”
“Lindelhoff? Okay, I’ll check.”
“Does the profile say anything about the meaning of the
charms?”
“Says here that since none of the victims were sexually
assaulted, leaving a charm in the victim’s mouth could
signify the sex act. Or the charm could demonstrate the
kil er’s remorse afterward. It’s undetermined whether the
charms belonged to the victims. One charm, the gun,
coincided with cause of death. The two victims found
together had the same charm, indicating he may have
planned ahead to kil two victims. The charms could be
clues to the kil er’s identity or motive. They could have
belonged to another woman in UNSUB’s life. Or they could
be completely random.”
“Meaning, no one knows.”
Rainie sighed. “Right. That’s why they were so eager to
make an arrest, just to quiet things down. And since they
couldn’t find Michael Lane—”
“Coop was the next best suspect.”
“Looks like it. So what do you think about running the fake
piece saying you’re going to reveal al concerning Michael
Lane?”
Carlotta exhaled, nodding to herself. “I think it might work.
Play up the fact that I know his deep, dark secrets, that I
want everyone to know the real Michael.”
“Okay. It’l run as soon as I can wrangle good placement—
probably this weekend, but I’l let you know. Meanwhile,
I’l inform APD. If this works and Lane comes out of hiding,
I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Carlotta glanced at her watch. “Don’t worry about it—I’ll
talk to Jack Terry. Thanks for calling, Rainie. I gotta run.”
“Talk soon,” Rainie said, then hung up.
Carlotta stowed the phone and took one more wistful drag
on the half-spent cigarette. But at the sound of twigs
snapping in the direction of the tree line, she froze. She
couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. Conversely
she felt like a sitting duck standing on the stoop with
uplights shining on her knees. She swallowed hard, her
gaze darting all around. She reached into the bottom of
her bag and rummaged for the stun baton.
Behind her a scraping noise startled her so badly, she
almost swallowed her cigarette.
But it was only the door to the restaurant opening. And to
her dismay, Maria Marquez stepped out.
Frankly, Carlotta mused, she would’ve rather faced a
stalker.
19
“I had to have a smoke, too,” Maria said with a wry smile.
Carlotta managed a nod in response, and moved over to
share the stoop. Upon closer inspection, Maria’s brown
dress was Diane von Furstenberg, her sandals, Sergio
Rossi. The woman had exquisite taste.
Maria pul ed out her cigarettes and withdrew one to light.
She inhaled deeply, then exhaled before speaking. “Nice
place, huh?”
“Seems like it.”
“I suppose you’re wondering what Jack and I are doing
here together.”
Carlotta raised a hand. “It’s none of my business.”
“It’s not what you think.”
She considered the woman’s words, then caved to the
curiosity gnawing at her. “So what is it?”
“It’s…something else,” Maria offered. “Don’t make any
knee-jerk decisions based on what you see.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I was with Jack watching your interview with the GBI
agents. I heard you say you were going to Vegas with
Peter.”
“That’s right.”
Maria took a deep drag off her cigarette. “I also heard Jack
make a sound as if he’d been stabbed.”
A little shiver of satisfaction ran over Carlotta’s shoulders,
then she remembered Jack’s response afterward when
she’d asked him to give her a reason not to go. He’d
walked away. “Maria, Jack doesn’t want me.”
“He doesn’t want anyone else to have you—isn’t that the
same thing?”
“I don’t think so.”
“So you’re with Peter now?”
“I’m staying with Peter until The Charmed Kil er is caught,”
Carlotta said evasively.
Maria exhaled a spiral of smoke. “We got him. You can go
back home any time you want.”
Carlotta pressed her lips together. “Coop isn’t a serial
kil er, Maria. The fact that he’s getting out on bail
tomorrow means that the case against him isn’t as strong
as you want everyone to believe.”
“No, it means that the jails here are overcrowded and Dr.
Craft was clever enough not to leave more evidence at the
crime scenes.” She tapped her cigarette on the railing to
rid it of ash. “Watch yourself, Carlotta. You’re putting your
faith in the wrong guy, and I know what that’s like.”
“And I know what Coop is like,” Carlotta countered.
“Michael Lane is responsible for kil ing those women. Or
someone else is.”
From the tree line came the sound of crackling twigs, the
brush of leaves. Carlotta’s head swung around. “Did you
hear that?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Maria murmured, alert.
“I thought I heard someone just before you came out.”
The flash of a metal disc broke the blackness—a necklace?
A watch? Carlotta sucked in a sharp breath as alarm seized
her.
Maria dropped her cigarette and stepped on it while
reaching into her bag. She pul ed out a pistol and held it
down to her side while she scanned the tree line.
“Carlotta, go back inside,” she ordered. “Now.”
“I’ll get Jack.”
“No…I can handle this. Get out of here.”
Carlotta hurriedly snubbed out her cigarette, then pul ed
on the door and scurried inside. Handle, shmandle. If
Michael Lane was out there, he’d already kil ed a morgue
ful of women, including an A.D.A. He’d have no
compunction kil ing Maria. Carlotta practically ran back to
the table where Jack sat frowning at the tiny plate of food
sitting in front of him. He looked up and instantly his body
tensed.
“Jack, Maria’s outside. Someone was watching us from the
trees.”
He was on his feet before she finished her sentence. He
hurried down the hallway, with Carlotta trotting behind.
But just as he reached the door, it opened and Maria
stepped inside.
“It was just a dog,” Maria said with a reassuring smile.
“But I saw a flash of something,” Carlotta said.
“From the tag on the col ar,” Maria supplied. “Nothing to
worry about.”
Carlotta exhaled in relief as they walked back toward their
tables, but couldn’t help watching Maria and Jack, the way
their bodies moved in tandem. Their stride was even the
same. Maria’s denial that something was going on
between them fel flat when one observed their natural
chemistry. And while Maria’s body language seemed self-
conscious, obviously no one had told Jack they weren’t on
a date. He held out Maria’s chair and when she was
seated, scooted her closer to the table. Then he leaned
down and murmured something in Maria’s ear that made
her smile.
Carlotta forced her feet to keep moving toward the table
where Peter sat fingering his napkin. His shoulders were
slumped, his expression drawn. Remorse washed over her.
Peter, the dear man, deserved her ful attention. She slid
into her chair and he looked up, having missed the
commotion unfolding behind his back. “I was getting ready
to send out a rescue team.”
“Sorry…I got a phone call from Rainie Stephens.”
His mouth twitched downward.
She lifted her finger. “We have a deal.”
He nodded. “I know.” He picked up a black olive from the
petite plate that had been delivered in her absence. “I
hear that Craft is getting out on bail tomorrow.”
“That’s what I’ve been told, yes.”
He chewed the olive, then swallowed. “Word around the
office is that someone put up his bail.”
Carlotta blinked. “Really? Who?”
“I don’t know. A family member, maybe?”
“I wouldn’t know. Coop has never talked to me about his
family.”
He took another sip of his wine. “I thought maybe the two
of you got…close while you were in Florida.”
“You thought wrong,” she said softly, then reached across
the table to squeeze his fingers. “Let’s enjoy our dinner.”
She could feel the presence of Jack and Maria only a
glance away, but resisted looking, instead concentrating
on Peter and his conversation…or trying to. And mostly
succeeding.
The food was exquisite, but in bite-size portions. It was fun
tasting several gourmet dishes, from black forbidden rice
to crab with coconut milk to white anchovies, but
throughout, her mind wandered to Jack—she couldn’t see
him fil ing up on this frou-frou food. And while Peter tried
to entertain her by mentioning a funny incident from the
office, she incubated the possibilities of either Mitchell
Moody or Frederick Lowenstein being The Charmed Kil er.
Her money was stil on Michael, but if not, since she’d
been targeted to literally run over the body that had been
dropped into the road in front of her, she had to assume it
was someone she knew.
Or at least someone who knew her.
“Are you looking forward to Vegas?” Peter asked. Her
hand was palm up and he was stroking it softly.
Remembering his reference earlier to them someday
having a family, she managed a shaky smile and nodded.
“I’ve never been to Vegas. You’ve probably seen it lots of
times, haven’t you?”
“A few. But being there with you, it’l be like experiencing
it all again for the first time. We’l have fun, I promise.”
A big, broad-shouldered shadow fel across their table.
Carlotta looked up to see Jack standing there, flanked by
Maria.
“Just wanted to say good-night,” Jack offered. “Peter, I
understand you’re coming in to talk to the state guys
tomorrow.”
Peter tightened his grip on Carlotta’s hand. “That’s right.”
“If you have any concerns, I’l be around.”
Peter nodded. “Thanks.”
Jack flicked his gaze over their hands, then turned to
Carlotta. “Keep that stun baton handy. You never know
when you’re going to need it.”
She gave him a private, withering look—just when she
thought he was being mature. “Good night, Jack.
Goodnight, Maria.”
“Good night,” Maria murmured, although her mind
seemed elsewhere.
On how the night might end? Carlotta tamped down an
irrational flash of envy. Her own sexual encounters with
Jack had been accidental, spontaneous. At the time, she’d
found it exciting…thril ing. But in hindsight, she realized
she’d been a cheap date. Jack hadn’t gotten dressed up for
her, hadn’t held out her chair.
Carlotta watched them walk away, then turned her
attention back to Peter and lifted her wineglass for
another drink. They lingered over shared dessert, then left
and drove back to Peter’s home. Talking companionably
about their respective schedules for the fol owing day,
they walked up the stairs. At the landing, Peter gave her a
nice, long kiss. But, as always, when things started to
warm up between them, he pul ed back.
“I’m really looking forward to Vegas,” he said.
“Me, too,” she murmured, hoping the trip would be a
turning point for their relationship, one way or another.
They parted and went into their separate bedrooms.
Carlotta closed her door, then covered her face with her
hands. Her mind raced with so many details, she was
practically dizzy. After donning pj’s and washing her face,
she turned on the TV and reached for her notebook. The
national and local news were consumed with The Charmed
Kil er case, flashing Coop’s picture and announcing that he
was being released on bail. Roving reporters talked to
victims’ advocate groups and random Atlanta residents
who expressed alarm and anger that “a cold-blooded
murderer would be let back out on the street.”
Carlotta bit her lip. Maybe Hannah had a point about
Coop’s safety.
She turned down the TV volume and recorded in the
notebook the info Rainie had given her about the DNA
found on the Alderman murder scene, and about the
profile Maria had developed. And she noted her own
suspicions about Dr. Lowenstein and, more reluctantly,
Mitchel Moody. Detective Marquez hadn’t been in the
frame of mind to hear about alternate suspects when
they’d chatted earlier on the stoop, but Carlotta made a
mental note to talk to Jack tomorrow.
Her cel phone rang.
Or tonight.
She picked up her phone and confirmed it was him before
she answered. She connected the call and laid her head
back on the comfy upholstered chair where she sat. “Hi,
Jack.”
“Did I wake you?”
From the background noise, she deduced he was in his car.
“No, I was up.”
“Good,” he said. “Listen…about tonight at the restaurant—