Authors: Stephanie Bond
Carlotta’s throat convulsed. “I probably won’t be able to
talk my way in again. I told the woman at the front desk I
had to see you so I could break our engagement.”
He gave a little laugh. “Wel , it was fun while it lasted.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “Coop, I…” She didn’t know
what to say. She wasn’t in a position to make promises,
and she was acutely aware of how the situation might
distort emotions.
“Hey, how about a smile before you leave to get me
through?” Coop asked.
She inhaled deeply, then gave him the best grin she could
manage.
“That’s better,” he said.
“Call me if you need anything at all.”
“Thanks for coming,” he said, then returned the receiver
to the cradle.
Realizing that he hadn’t responded to her offer of help,
she hung up the phone on her side and watched with
growing panic as he was handcuffed and led away. The
shuffling of his shackled feet sickened her. She choked
back a sob.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the guard asked kindly.
She covered her mouth and nodded, then fol owed the
man blindly back to the lobby area where she retrieved
her purse. When she emerged, she looked up and nearly
swallowed her tongue.
Jack Terry was standing in the lobby, leaning on the
counter talking to Officer McHenry.
He, on the other hand, did not seem surprised to see her.
He straightened and crossed his arms. “Officer McHenry, is
this the fiancée?”
The woman looked at Carlotta. “Sorry, girl. Detective Terry
from the midtown precinct is set up to receive a text when
Craft receives visitors.”
“Ms. Wren and I are acquainted,” Jack said dryly.
“Carlotta, can I have a word with you?”
“Actually, I’m in a hurry,” she said, moving toward the
door.
“Actually, that wasn’t a question,” Jack said, walking up
next to her. He grasped her elbow and ushered her
outside.
“Jack, you’re manhandling me!”
“You’re lucky I don’t shoot you,” he said in a lethal tone,
shepherding her to his sedan sitting at the end of the walk.
“I told you to stay out of this.”
Detective Maria Marquez stood next to the car, every inch
of her tall, curvy frame oozing authority and sexuality.
With luxurious hair the color of caramels, luminous skin
the color of toffee, and enormous almond-shaped eyes,
the woman looked utterly edible. Carlotta slid Jack a
sideways glance, wondering if he’d taken a nibble yet. He
was a red-blooded male, and Maria had intimated to
Carlotta that she was attracted to Jack, although she
wasn’t looking for a liaison with a coworker. Carlotta
wondered, though, if Maria was skittish for other reasons.
Once she had overheard Maria on the phone talking to
someone in an angry tone, asking them not to call her
again. Maria had moved to Atlanta from Chicago “for a
change” she’d said. She was a profiler for the Atlanta
Police Department and had been assisting the GBI in the
investigation of The Charmed Kil er while Jack had been
banished because of his relationship to Carlotta and her
family.
Carlotta was sure that Maria’s profiling had led to Coop’s
arrest. She frowned at the woman, but Maria seemed
amused to see her. “In trouble again, Carlotta?”
It didn’t help that the woman’s melodic voice was like a
snake charmer’s flute.
Carlotta yanked her arm out of Jack’s grasp. “I have a right
to see Coop!”
A couple of passersby looked their way.
Jack glowered at Carlotta. “How about we not do this in
public? What are you driving these days? Did Ashford buy
you a pink Lamborghini?”
She rol ed her eyes. “No. I’m getting a rental this evening.
Peter dropped me off at MARTA and I rode to
Underground, then walked here.”
“Which means you didn’t tel him where you were
headed.”
She pressed her lips together.
Jack sighed. “Wel , at least I’m not the only person you lie
to.”
“I didn’t lie. If Peter had asked me if I was headed to the
city detention, I would’ve said yes.” Probably.
“Get in the car,” Jack said. “We’l take you to work.”
“I’m going by the townhouse first.”
“Why?”
“If you must know, Wesley wants to show me the new
security system.”
“Okay, we’l take you there.”
She climbed into the back of the sedan, feeling morose.
When Jack and Maria assumed their positions in the front,
Carlotta crossed her arms. “Why are you so angry that I
came to see Coop?”
Jack turned around in his seat. “Did you and Coop get
engaged and not tel anyone?”
“No,” she mumbled.
“Then you lied your way in to see him. How do you think
that’s going to look to the GBI?”
“I don’t care.”
Maria turned around. “Carlotta, if you care about Cooper,
you’l listen to Jack. Stay out of this investigation.”
Carlotta’s acidic retort was cut short by a pointed look
from Jack. Instead she sat back in a huff, stewing.
After they’d ridden in silence for a few minutes, Jack made
eye contact through the rearview mirror. “So…how did
Coop look to you?” he asked quietly.
Carlotta hardened her jaw. “Not good.”
She averted her gaze and was quiet for the remainder of
the ride. Jack and Maria talked in low tones, their heads
and bodies leaning in. At one point Maria reached over to
pick lint off Jack’s jacket—the man had certainly started
dressing better since Maria had been assigned as his
partner. And he didn’t seem to mind the extra attention.
In fact, Carlotta had to tap his shoulder after he missed the
turn to the townhouse she shared with Wesley.
“Sorry,” Jack offered. “I just assumed my car knew the way
since it’s been to your house so many times on distress
cal s.”
“Very funny.” But it was true. Since she’d first met Jack
when he’d arrested Wesley for hacking into the city
computer, their lives had crossed and folded back onto
each other’s several times.
He pul ed into the driveway behind Hannah’s van.
Wesley’s bicycle sat nearby, and Chance’s BMW.
“You having a party?” Jack asked.
“Yes. And you’re not invited.” She unbuckled the seat belt
and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Carlotta.”
She stopped and looked back to see Jack’s meaty finger
wagging at her. “Stay away from this investigation. Let the
professionals handle it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said,
feigning ignorance.
“I mean it, Carlotta. Behave.”
“Why, Jack, I’m a Southern lady. Of course I’l behave.
Toodles.”
The sound of his snort resounded in her ears as she swung
out of the car and slammed the door.
6
Carlotta bounded up to the townhouse, amazed at how
much she missed the place. There really was no place like
home.
“Carlotta?”
At the sound of Mrs. Winningham’s voice, she stopped and
swallowed a groan. She looked up to the see her neighbor
standing at the fence, wearing a big sun hat and a bigger
frown. “Hi, Mrs. Winningham.”
“We need to talk. You have a serious problem.”
Carlotta laughed. “You’re going to have to be more
specific, Mrs. Winningham.”
“Fire ants.”
“Beg your pardon?”
Her neighbor gestured to the Wren’s yard. It was the bane
of the woman’s existence because crabgrass and
dandelions had all but choked out the more desirable
blue-green fescue. “See those two piles of sand over there
and there? You have fire ants.”
“I guess that’s a bad thing?” Carlotta asked.
“Have you ever been bitten by a fire ant?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Wel , it’s not pretty.” The woman shook her finger. “If you
don’t get rid of them, they’l spread to my yard, and I can’t
risk Toofers getting into their nest. They’d eat him alive.”
While Carlotta wasn’t crazy about the tuft-headed,
snarling little beast, she agreed that death by fire ants
would be a painful way for the mutt to go. “I’l talk to
Wesley about it,” Carlotta promised.
“Did you hear the police arrested The Charmed Kil er?”
Carlotta’s throat convulsed. “I heard that an arrest had
been made.”
“Finally I can sleep at night.”
“That’s good, Mrs. Winningham.” Would everyone who’d
read of Coop’s arrest assume he was guilty? Of course they
would. If she didn’t know Coop, she would, too. After all,
he was a former medical examiner who worked around
death, and had been demoted to a body mover because of
a drinking problem. It had all the makings of a movie of the
week. She moved toward the house. “Take care, Mrs.
Winningham.”
“Don’t forget about the ants!”
She jogged up the stairs to the door and twisted the knob.
When she pushed the door open, a faint beep, beep
sounded. The sound of voices in the living room stopped.
Wesley, Hannah and Chance all looked her way.
“The sensor on the door works,” Wes said. “Where’ve you
been? I was getting ready to call.”
“Sorry. I went to see Coop.”
From the couch, Hannah pushed to her feet. “How is he?”
Chance looked stricken at Hannah’s interest. Carlotta
winced—she stil had to process the idea of Hannah and
Fat Chance as a couple. “Coop was calm.” She turned to
Wes. “Except when I mentioned that you’d fol owed him
at the hospital. Then he was furious.”
Wes explained to Hannah how he’d fol owed Coop to the
office of a neurologist.
Hannah paled. “Something’s wrong with him?”
“He brushed it off,” Carlotta said, pushing her hair back
from her face. “He insisted it had nothing to do with any of
this.”
“And you believe him?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know. But since he was so agitated and our
conversation was probably being recorded, I didn’t want
to force the issue.”
“Has he talked to Liz?” Wesley asked.
“She’s going to handle the arraignment on Monday.”
Chance scratched his head. “I don’t understand what
we’re all doing here.”
Hannah frowned at him. “We’re going to help prove that
Coop didn’t commit these murders.”
“Isn’t that what the police are for?” Chance asked.
“The police have already made up their minds,” Wes
offered.
“And what if the guy is guilty?”
“He isn’t,” the rest of them chorused.
Chance’s eyebrows went up. “And you know this how?”
Hannah scoffed. “Because some things you just know
about some people.” She gave Carlotta a meaningful look,
and Carlotta realized Hannah was referring to Carlotta’s
support earlier in the week. Hannah had been accused of
stealing purses at Bedford Manor Country Club events
where she’d sometimes worked as a server. Carlotta had
defended her friend to the victims who had been quick to
judge Hannah because of her goth makeup and clothing.
And piercings. And tattoos.
Carlotta smiled, then noticed all the holes in the drywal in
the living room and beyond, in the hallway and the
kitchen. She gasped. “Did the police do this when they
processed the house for evidence?”
“No,” Wes said. “The holes are from the instal ation of the
security system. You’re welcome,” he added dryly.
“No, I appreciate it,” she assured him, but her knees felt
weak. “I just didn’t expect this much…destruction.”
Between the damaged walls and the black splotches of
fingerprint dust around light plates, door facings, and
doorknobs, the place looked like a war zone.
“You wanted to repaint anyway,” Wes said. “I figured this
would give us a reason to redo everything.”
She nodded, pursing her mouth. “You’re right. Now we
don’t have a choice.”
“But we do have sensors on all the doors and windows.”
“I’m real y impressed you did this all by yourself,” she said.
“Uh, Chance helped a little.”
Chance grinned up at Hannah. “Yeah, I helped.”
Hannah tweaked his chubby cheek. Carlotta threw up in
her mouth a little. Quickly changing the subject, she pul ed
the notebook she’d been using to record details of the
crimes out of her bag. “Let’s go in the kitchen to talk.”
“But it’s more comfortable here in the living room,” Wes
said.
She frowned at him. “We can talk better at the table.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he fol owed her. In
the kitchen, though, he kept looking toward the window
over the sink. He was acting strange. As soon as this little
pow-wow ended, she was going to talk to him about the
drug test results.
“Okay,” Carlotta said, opening her book. “I’ve been
keeping notes on everything that’s happened with The
Charmed Kil er case. I made copies for you, Wes, and for
you, Hannah.”
“We’l share,” Chance said happily.
Carlotta narrowed her eyes at him. “Anything we talk
about is confidential.”
“I can keep my mouth shut,” he groused.
“I’l make sure of it,” Hannah said to Carlotta, giving
Chance a glare.
Carlotta passed around the copies. “I figure since we were