Six Killer Bodies (22 page)

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—