Six Killer Bodies (18 page)

then, it’s come to my attention that my father knew Alicia

Sil s and, in fact…they might have had a relationship.”

Wick blinked. “How did this piece of information come to

your attention?”

She hugged herself. “My, um, boyfriend, Peter Ashford,

remembered going to work with my father once, years ago

when he was in high school. A woman delivering mail

came into Randolph’s office. Peter said it was obvious that

Randolph and this woman…knew each other wel . Peter

looked into old employment records and determined it

was Alicia Sil s.”

She could tel Wick hadn’t expected the curve. “Are you

now saying that you think your father might be involved in

these murders?”

“No. I’m just correcting information I gave you before

about a connection between my father and one of the

victims.”

“Peter Ashford,” Wick muttered. “That name sounds

familiar.”

“He works at Mashburn and Tul y. You interviewed the

employees there and asked them about my father?”

“Right,” Wick said, gesturing for Green to check their

notes. “So why didn’t Mr. Ashford let us know himself?”

“I asked him not to. I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“And now you do?”

“Now I’m just trying to demonstrate that you shouldn’t

lock in on Cooper Craft based on circumstantial evidence.”

“You needn’t involve yourself with the procedures of this

case, Ms. Wren. We’ve got that under control.”

Carlotta leaned forward, hands on the table. “If you’ve got

it under control, Agent Wick, then why am I tel ing you

things you don’t know?” She reached for her purse.

“Unless you have more questions, I’m leaving.” She started

toward the door.

“Ms. Wren.”

She turned back.

Wick wore a constipated expression, as if she’d messed up

his plans for the day. “You need to let us know if you’re

planning to leave town.”

“As a matter of fact, Agent, I am. Peter Ashford and I leave

for Vegas next Tuesday.”

“We’l need to talk to Mr. Ashford again before then.”

“I’l tel him.” She turned and walked out the door, then

headed for the exit.

“Carlotta, wait.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then turned to see Jack

striding up to her. He pul ed his hand down over his face.

“That was…revealing.”

“That was my last voluntary interview, Jack. I’m done.”

“Fair enough. You’ve been a big help.”

She frowned. “And what are you doing to help Coop?”

“Hoping he isn’t granted bail when he’s arraigned today.”

Her eyes widened. “You hope he doesn’t get bail?”

“Carlotta, if Coop is innocent, there’s a good chance The

Charmed Kil er is going to strike again. When that

happens, the best alibi for Coop is jail.”

She knew that, but stil , the thought of him in that place…

Then Jack crossed his arms. “So…Vegas, huh?”

“Vegas,” she confirmed with a nod.

“Just be careful. A lot of people get out there in that

overoxygenated air and go crazy, wind up doing stupid

things, like…getting married.”

She angled her head. “You were the one who told me I

should marry Peter.”

He picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it between

two fingers. “Since when do you listen to me?”

The thickness of his voice made Carlotta’s heart thud in

her chest. “Jack, can you give me a reason I shouldn’t go

away with Peter?”

He studied the dark hair for several long seconds, then

suddenly released it. “No, I can’t.” Then he turned around

and walked away.

16

Carlotta walked to her rental car in the parking garage

adjacent to the police station and unlocked it from a safe

distance. She looked around, wondering if Michael would

be careless enough to fol ow her, but apparently not. She

slid into the driver’s seat, then scrol ed through the

directory on her phone until she reached Fischer, Liz. After

connecting the cal , she drummed her fingers on the

steering wheel, waiting for the woman to answer.

“Liz Fischer.”

Carlotta flinched. Even the woman’s voice grated on her

nerves. “Liz, it’s Carlotta Wren.”

“Hi, Carlotta. I hope this isn’t about Wesley.”

“No, I don’t get involved in Wesley’s personal life.”

“Pardon me?”

“You don’t have to play dumb, Liz. I know you and Wes

have a thing, but he’s old enough to make his own

mistakes. Heaven knows you won’t be his last.”

“Was there a point to this call?” Liz chirped.

“Actually, I’m cal ing about Dad. You know, the other Wren

man you slept with?”

“What about Randolph?”

She told Liz about his connection to Alicia Sil s. “I just

informed the GBI this morning and I thought it might help

you in Coop’s arraignment. Between Michael Lane and

now this link to my dad, the D.A. has to know there would

be reasonable doubt if the case against Coop goes to trial.

It might at least help Coop get bail.”

“Carlotta, I’m going to fight like hel for bail, but D.A. Lucas

is going to come in like a sledgehammer.”

“But think about it, Liz. Who does Lucas want as much as

The Charmed Kil er?”

“Randolph Wren,” Liz relented.

“Imagine if Lucas thought that Randolph might be The

Charmed Kil er.”

A conceding noise sounded over the line. “It might rattle

Lucas a little. My plan is to point out to the judge that the

prosecution has only a circumstantial case against Dr.

Craft. At the moment, the jail is overcrowded, so that wil

work in our favor. And we might get lucky and draw a

sympathetic judge. Of course, the judge might set a bail so

high that Dr. Craft can’t cover it.”

“When is the arraignment?”

“Sometime early afternoon.”

“I’l keep an ear to the news. Good luck.”

“Carlotta?”

“Yes.”

“I do care for Wesley.”

“So do I, Liz. Goodbye.”

She disconnected the cal , feeling marginal y optimistic

about Coop, but less confident when it came to Wes. She

hoped he hadn’t gotten in over his head with Liz, although

she understood the attraction. He obviously liked Meg, but

in some respects a physical relationship was easier to deal

with than an emotional one.

Which was probably why she was so drawn to Jack.

Carlotta spent the rest of the morning driving from jewelry

store to jewelry store, “pretending” that she was doing

legwork for the police and asking if they’d sold charms to

anyone suspicious. She presented Michael’s picture,

explaining he might be blond, but very few retail outlets

reported any male customers buying charms at al . And

none of them had aroused suspicion.

“Pretty girl like you should have a great big diamond on

your finger,” a stooped, white-haired salesman told her

with a wink.

Carlotta’s thoughts went to the Cartier ring Peter was

holding for her. “I’m not quite ready for marriage yet.”

The man grinned. “Who said anything about marriage? An

engagement ring is just something nice to wear while you

make up your mind.”

She rubbed her empty ring finger and considered his

words, then thanked him for his time. At the moment, she

had another type of jewelry on her mind. All morning her

attention kept returning to the charm bracelet she wore,

and to whether the charms it came with held special

meaning. And if the charms the serial kil er used held

special meaning.

After he’d kil ed Shawna Whitt, he’d taken a charm from

her bracelet and placed it in her mouth. Had her bracelet

broken during a struggle? Had the charm simply become a

spontaneous signature, with no particular meaning other

than accessibility?

And after Shawna Whitt, had the kil er continued with the

signature simply out of compulsion? Since none of the

other charms that Shawna’s coworker had described from

her bracelet had been left at subsequent crime scenes, it

seemed as if the jewelry had been chosen deliberately. Or

maybe the charms had significance in the kil er’s mad mind

but would be nonsensical to anyone else.

On the drive to the townhouse, Carlotta conceded she was

looking for a needle in a haystack. In at least the first case,

he’d taken a charm from the victim’s own bracelet. After

that, he could’ve obtained more of them anywhere—from

the victims’ jewelry boxes, through an online store or

auction, at a flea market. The charms could’ve belonged to

someone in his home—a mother, or a sister…or a wife. Or

he could’ve stolen them. A man who would murder

women for sport would certainly think nothing of

shoplifting a few trinkets.

Her mood was decidedly morose when she pul ed into the

weedy driveway of the townhouse. Hannah’s van and

Wes’s bike were already there. She wondered wryly if

Chance was going to join them, then chastised herself. If

Hannah was happy dating the schlubby guy with the

questionable revenue stream, then who was she to judge?

After all, Hannah wasn’t exactly nuts about Peter, yet she

managed to keep her hostility to a minimum.

Sort of.

Carlotta climbed out of the rental car, pul ed accumulated

mail from the box, and made her way to the front steps,

hoping to get inside without drawing the attention of Mrs.

Winningham.

No such luck.

“Carlotta! Yoo-hoo!”

She winced, then turned toward the fence that kept the

Wrens out of their neighbor’s manicured yard. “Hel o, Mrs.

Winningham.”

The dour-faced woman stood there holding a ruffled pink

parasol over her dog, Toofers. “I want to talk to you.”

“About the fire ants—”

“How did you get rid of them?”

Carlotta squinted. “Excuse me?”

The woman gestured to the areas in the yard where she’d

previously pointed out the offending sandy hil s allegedly

brimming with dog-eating ants. “They’re gone. What

product did you use?”

“I…don’t know,” Carlotta said, impressed that Wesley had

taken care of the pests. He was obviously trying to

compensate for his other mistakes. “But I’l ask Wes to let

you know. Goodbye, Mrs. Winningham.” She jogged up

the steps and pushed open the door to the sound of raised

voices.

Wes was facing Hannah and Chance. “Both of you get off

my back!”

Carlotta pul ed the door closed with a bang. They turned

to look at her, then all of them shifted awkwardly.

Carlotta shot Wes a pointed look. “Why would Hannah and

Chance be on your back?”

Wes straightened and tried to look nonchalant. “No

reason.”

Anger whipped through her. “Stop bul shitting me, Wesley

Wren! I don’t need it today.”

He shifted from foot to foot. “I messed up last night and

got high. But I’m getting clean, Sis, I promise.”

Carlotta stared at him, feeling very close to losing it. She

gripped the strap of her purse for dear life, then reached

inside and pul ed out a cigarette, breaking her rule of not

smoking in the house. Her hand was shaking so badly as

she lit the tip, the lighter’s flame bobbed. She inhaled on

the cigarette until her eyeballs bulged, then exhaled

noisily. She could feel everyone’s eyes trained on her, as if

they were waiting for her to flip out. Carlotta took two

more powerful drags before lifting her gaze to Wes. To his

credit, he looked scared.

“Are you okay, Sis?”

“We’l talk about this later,” she promised. “Let’s get down

to business.”

Wordlessly, Hannah and Chance headed for the kitchen.

Carlotta thought about the listening device imbedded in

the wall over the window, then decided it was a moot

point. On the remote chance someone was listening, she

couldn’t imagine they’d be interested in The Charmed

Kil er case. Most likely, whoever had planted it had given

up listening long ago. For all they knew, it could’ve been in

the house before the Wrens had moved in.

She fol owed the trio into the kitchen and snubbed out her

cigarette before taking a place at the table. Without

preamble, she pul ed out her notebook and opened it.

“Okay, Hannah, you said you and Chance had some

information?”

Hannah looked at her warily. “Carlotta, we don’t have to

do this now.”

“Coop is supposed to be arraigned today,” Carlotta said

careful y. “If you found something helpful, tel me.”

Hannah looked dubious, but handed over a folder. “It’s not

hard to get cyanide if you want it. Pharmacists can get it,

and chemists. Plus people in the pest control business, and

jewelers. Cyanide is also used in some photographic and

printing processes. And if a person doesn’t have access to

it through their job, all they need is a friend who does.”

Carlotta sighed. “That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“Those are only the legal ways,” Chance offered. “I made

two phone calls to my, um…alternative contacts, and I was

told as long as I had cash, I could have as much as I

wanted.”

Carlotta’s shoulders fel . “So anyone can get it.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?” Hannah asked. “That wil