Read Body Movers 4 - 4 Bodies and a Funeral Online
Authors: Stephanie Bond
“This way.” Carlotta led the woman to the employee break
room where she swiped her ID to get in and retrieved her
purse while Eva tossed back a couple of capsules and
washed them down with water. As they left the store,
Eva’s head moved continually, scanning for whomever she
thought was pursuing her. Carlotta felt sorry for the
woman—she was obviously spooked.
“It’s not a limo,” Carlotta apologized when she unlocked
the Monte Carlo. “But it has a new battery.”
“It’s great,” Eva said as she slid into the passenger seat.
She checked the side mirror and seemed antsy until they
were underway. But once on the road, she removed the
scarf and the sunglasses and seemed more like herself.
“You must think I’m crazy,” she murmured.
Carlotta glanced over at the slight brunette. “No. I think
you’re under a lot of stress. And I can’t imagine what it
must be like to be in the spotlight like you’ve been.”
A sad little laugh escaped Eva. “I trained my entire adult
life for the Olympics, yet sometimes I’d give anything to go
back to the way things were before, when I was
anonymous.”
“But your charm bracelets are raising a lot of money for
charity.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She wrapped her fingers around
her bare wrist, obviously pining for the piece of jewelry
that had meant so much to her. “Stil , no good deed goes
unpunished.”
“You haven’t heard any news about your bracelet?”
“No, and I really don’t expect to.”
Eva’s sadness sent another pang through Carlotta as she
headed south on Peachtree toward downtown. The young
woman had accomplished a feat few individuals could
boast, and she’d done it in heroic fashion while the world
had cheered her on. She should be on top of the world,
enjoying the accolades and the benefits of being a gold-
medalist. Instead, she was a victim of her own celebrity.
“Eva, the death threats you’ve received—how were they
communicated?”
“Always anonymously, via e-mail from Internet cafés or a
scribbled note in the mail.”
“Do you think they’re from fans or competitors?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Or someone I inadvertently dissed
at an appearance. We turned everything over to the FBI,
but nothing was ever substantiated. They told me to get
on with my life.” The woman touched her head. “I’m
trying, but it’s wearing on me. Sometimes I have anxiety
attacks.”
“Is that what the pil s were for?”
“Yes, and they help.” She gave a little laugh. “I wish I
could’ve taken them during the Olympics, but
unfortunately, I couldn’t have anything like that in my
system, because of the doping blood tests, you know.”
“It must have been an ordeal. I heard on the news that
you’ve decided not to compete in the World
Championships?”
Eva nodded. “Now they’re saying there’s some guy out
there kil ing women and stuffing charms in their mouths—
maybe because of me?”
“There’s no reason to think those deaths have anything to
do with you,” Carlotta soothed.
“I just want all of this charm insanity to stop. I never
meant for any of this to happen. I only wanted to raise
money for charity.” Eva inhaled deeply, then released the
breath. “I have one more contracted appearance on
Monday at Atlantic Station, then I’m finished.”
“I’m sure no one wil blame you.” Carlotta tried to inject a
casual note into her voice as she flipped on her left signal
to turn onto Ralph McGil Boulevard. “Eva, how wel do
you know Mitchel Moody?”
“Mitch?” She squirmed in her seat. “Not very wel , really.
He ran with a small group of us for the three months I was
in Hawai training.”
Carlotta decided not to alarm the woman by tel ing her
that Mitch had been outside her home with other fans.
Instead she manufactured a smile. “I got the impression at
the Neiman’s event that Mitch had a crush on you.”
Eva looked away and laughed nervously. “Um, maybe. But
please don’t ever say that when Ben’s around.”
“Is Ben the jealous type?”
Eva smiled. “It’s his competitive nature.”
Carlotta steered the car right onto Courtland, which
turned into Washington, and soon the Coverdel
Legislative Office Building came into view on the tree-lined
street. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
“Thank you, but I’ve inconvenienced you enough.”
“It wasn’t any trouble,” Carlotta assured her as she pul ed
to a stop in front of the building.
“Stil , I’m very grateful. Thank you.” Eva reached over and
squeezed Carlotta’s hand. “I’ve been feeling out of sorts
since my charm bracelet was stolen,” she said, her voice
trailing off. “I never realized how much I’d miss it.”
“I’m sure your bracelet wil turn up soon.”
Eva nodded, but Carlotta could see in the woman’s eyes
that she didn’t believe her. Eva climbed out of the car and
waved, then hurried toward the building, her head
pivoting as she scanned the area that bustled with people
ending their workday. Carlotta’s heart went out to the
woman who seemed caught in a no-win situation, and
whose mental toughness hadn’t prepared her for such an
emotional blow.
Carlotta bit her lip. Jack had admitted that Eva’s missing
charm bracelet wasn’t high on his or the department’s
priority list. And he’d been clear that he didn’t want
Carlotta poking around in The Charmed Kil er case.
But he hadn’t said anything about her poking around in
the missing bracelet case.
In fact, Jack might actually be grateful if she did some
legwork for him. Or better yet—if she helped him clear the
case from his backlog altogether. The thought of helping
return something so special to Eva excited her.
Meanwhile, she didn’t relish the thought of heading back
north with a hundred thousand other commuters at this
time of day. She wished she was close to the library so she
could do some research on Eva McCoy that might help her
figure out where to start. Then she realized she was only
about a mile away from the building that housed the
offices of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, possibly the
single largest repository of information in the city.
Carlotta wondered if Rainie Stephens worked late.
“I always work late,” the redhead said with a wry grin.
“Have a seat, Ms. Wren.”
“Carlotta,” she corrected as she lowered herself into the
guest chair in Rainie’s messy cubicle.
“Okay, Carlotta.” Rainie’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Did
you come here to talk about The Charmed Kil er?”
“Uh, no. Actually, I came to ask you what you remember
about the incident at Neiman’s where Eva McCoy’s
bracelet was stolen.”
“I think you had a better point of view than I did.”
“Until I fel into the cake. Can you pick up the story from
there?”
Rainie sat back in her chair. “Can’t you get that from the
surveil ance tapes?”
“This is sort of on the Q.T.”
“Ah. Wel , I’m afraid I can’t add much except that the man
went for Eva, then a few seconds later, he bolted for the
mall entrance and disappeared.”
“Did your photographer get anything?”
The reporter rummaged for a file, then handed it over.
“Lots of pictures of you and the cake, but nothing useful of
the guy or his getaway. This was only the photographer’s
second assignment. When things blew up, he freaked.”
Carlotta opened the folder and winced at the sheet of
black-and-white photos. Her face and fall were captured in
embarrassing detail, but only the back of the perp was
visible. She looked up. “Have I thanked you for keeping
these photos out of the paper?”
“You’re welcome. You can keep those.” Rainie clasped her
hands. “So, what’s the personal interest in Eva McCoy’s
bracelet? Has some kind of reward been offered?”
“No. It’s just that Eva’s so upset and the police are
swamped with crowd control around her estate—”
“And The Charmed Kil er?”
“Uh…I really couldn’t say.”
“But you were there—at both scenes, in fact.”
Jack’s warning not to talk to the woman about the
murders rang in her ears. “That was…inadvertent.”
“Can you confirm that the charm in the Whitt woman’s
mouth was a bird of some kind?”
“I…can’t. Sorry.”
“How about the charm in the Sil s woman’s mouth?”
“I’ve been asked not to talk about the cases.”
“By your boyfriend, Jack Terry?”
Carlotta frowned. “Jack’s not my boyfriend.”
“Right.” Rainie nodded, seemingly unconvinced. “I’m a
reporter, Carlotta. I have sources everywhere.”
“Do your sources know anything about the death threats
that Eva McCoy has received?”
The redhead hesitated. “Just that she has, which, frankly,
isn’t so strange for someone with such a high profile.
There are a lot of crazies out there who think women
shouldn’t be elite athletes. And the competition is stiff—
there are fewer sponsors in women’s sports. There was a
case a couple of years ago where a death threat was sent
to a female golfer. Come to find out, the coach of a rival
golfer was behind it.”
“Do you think that Eva’s food poisoning at the Olympics
could have been an attempt to sabotage her?”
Rainie looked dubious. “I guess it’s possible. But since
many of the athletes ate the same thing as Eva, some
theorized that she’d simply allowed her meal to sit out too
long.” Rainie shrugged. “Or maybe it was just a viral bug.
Regardless, the experience seems to have made her
paranoid.”
“Just because she’s paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t
out to get her.”
“True. Or at least get her bracelet. By the way, if you get a
line on it, I’d love an exclusive.”
Carlotta stood. “You got it.”
“And that goes for anything related to The Charmed Kil er,
too.”
Carlotta gave her a flat smile, but didn’t respond as she
turned to go.
“One last thing?”
Carlotta turned back. “Yes?”
“While I have you here, you wouldn’t want to speculate on
your father’s whereabouts, would you?”
Carlotta swallowed hard. What was it about the reporter
that made Carlotta feel as if she could see directly into a
person’s head? “No, I wouldn’t.” She turned and walked
out of Rainie Stephens’s office, unsure if she’d just made a
friend…or an enemy.
20
“It was good of you to stay late today,” Meg offered as she
and Wesley left McCormick’s office and headed back to
their workstation.
Wes lifted his hand to push up his glasses, but when he
noticed the way it trembled, he quickly shoved it into his
pocket. “No problem.” He was eager to get the project
rol ing…and Meg had worn a skirt today.
“I was sorry you had to leave last night,” she said.
“Yeah, wel , duty called.” He longed to tel her that he’d
been picking up the latest victim of The Charmed Kil er,
but Jack had warned them not to talk about the case. And
he didn’t want to foul up the first call that Coop had
trusted him with.
“You missed the best part of the evening.”
“The end of the movie?”
“No, sil y, taking me home.”
A flush climbed his neck. He didn’t know what to say, so he
decided to keep his mouth shut and keep walking.
Meg sighed and stopped. “You’re totally blowing it, you
know.”
He stopped, too, utterly confused. “Blowing what?”
“You could be my boyfriend if you’d straighten up.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”
She snapped her fingers in front of his nose. “Hel o? Dude,
you’re not fooling anybody, especially me. You’re baked.”
“No, I’m not.” In fact, his head ached from lack of Oxy.
He’d had a hit last night after returning home from the
body moving gig just to relax after all the commotion, but
he had resisted all day—for her, dammit.
“If you’re not, then you’re worse off than I thought,” she
said, shaking her head. “What are you doing, meth or
Oxy?”
“Not that meth shit,” he said, then bit his tongue.
“Ah, you’re on the cotton. Figured.” She turned to walk
away.
“Hey, it’s just a baby habit,” he said after her. “I can quit
anytime.”
She turned around, walking backward. “Sure you can. See
you later, loser.”
Her smug remark sent anger whipping through him. Who
did she think she was, judging him? He didn’t want to be
her damn boyfriend anyway. Prim little princess was just a
cock tease. He’d been sporting wood all day, and for
nothing.
He checked his watch and muttered a curse. Because he’d
wanted to stare at Meg’s bare, tanned legs all afternoon,
he was going to be late for his meeting with Jack Terry and
Liz to discuss his working for The Carver. He turned and
stomped away, eager to put distance between himself and
the girl who lived to mess with his head.
At least he had his bike back. He pumped the pedals hard
toward the midtown precinct to work off his bad mood,
but Meg’s words ate at him like acid. When he got to the