5 Bodies To Die For

“I’m tired myself,” Peter said, then winked. “It’s not every day I get shot with a Taser.”

As they climbed the stairs together, her heart rate accelerated and her hand felt slippery on the railing. Suddenly the palatial house seemed small, the air claustrophobic. When they reached the landing, Peter turned to her and lowered a very nice kiss on her mouth. She kissed him back, surprised at her all-over reaction. He raised his head and studied her face. The air sizzled. She wondered if Peter was going to ask her to spend the night with him, and what she would say if he did.

Then he smiled. “Good night, sleep tight.” He disappeared into his room and closed the door.

Carlotta stood there for a few seconds, then retreated to her own room, blaming her response on the wine. And wondering why Peter hadn’t tried to take advantage of her.

Inside the guest suite, she picked up her cell phone and her purse and headed for the veranda. Outside in the muggy night air, she glanced over the scattered lights of the neighborhood and lit up a cigarette. She inhaled it greedily while dialing Wesley’s cell number.

“Hey, sis,” he answered. “How do you like being back in the ’hood?”

She smiled. “I can’t lie—Peter’s house is nice.”

“What’s that sound? Are you smoking?”

She turned her head to exhale. “What? No, I’m not smoking.”

“The Surgeon General says smoking is bad for your health.”

Carlotta frowned. “You’re smoking right now, aren’t you?”

He exhaled into the mouthpiece. “Yeah. But it’s an organic cigarette, so it’s cool.”

She gave a little laugh. “Peter has plenty of room if you change your mind and want to stay here, too.”

“Thanks, but I’m settled in Chance’s extra bedroom for now. He lets me smoke inside. I’ll bet you’re out on a fancy porch or something, sneaking around, aren’t you?”

She looked at the exquisitely furnished veranda and flicked her ashes away from an upholstered chaise. “Or something. Have you been back to the town house?”

“No. Jack said he’d let me know when the CSI team was finished so I can install a security system.”

She frowned. “When did you talk to Jack?”

“Uh, earlier. I just wanted to see what was going on, that’s all.”

“Did he have any news?”

“Not that he shared with me.”

“Okay. So I guess I’ll see you when I see you?”

“Yeah. I’ll check in.”

“You’d better.” She disconnected the call, then sucked on the cigarette until her cheeks hurt. God, it tasted so good.

She punched in Hannah’s number, but no surprise, her friend didn’t answer. Carlotta left her a message with her whereabouts and the reasons why, then ended the call, shaking her head.

Normally, she wouldn’t think twice about Hannah not answering her phone. Her culinary friend, who dabbled in catering—and body moving when Coop permitted—had a lot of men, er, irons in the fire. But recently, Jack’s profiling partner, Maria, had accused Carlotta of not knowing anything about her good friend. Carlotta had bristled at the allegation, but admittedly, it had made her curious about what was going on when Hannah couldn’t be located or made vague excuses to escape.

She tapped some ash off the end of her cigarette, causing the charms on her bracelet to clink. She fingered them, shaking her head over the idea perpetuated that the charms on the bracelets sold by Olympian Eva McCoy for charity were not only unique to the wearer, but were also predictive. Her particular bracelet’s charms were a puzzle piece, an “aloha” charm, three hearts bound together, two champagne glasses toasting and a woman whose arms were crossed over her chest—which looked a little too much like a corpse for Carlotta’s comfort.

If she looked hard enough, she could find connections to her life. She was trying to figure out the puzzle of her father’s guilt or innocence, for example. And shortly after donning the bracelet, she’d met Mitchell Moody, the son of June Moody, the woman who ran Moody’s Cigar Bar. Mitch was currently on military leave from Hawaii.

It was a flimsy connection, but a connection nonetheless.

As far as the three hearts linked together, one might say that it could refer to the three men in her life: Jack, Coop and Peter. The champagne glasses…well, she would certainly celebrate once The Charmed Killer was apprehended…with someone.

And the weird corpse-looking charm, she didn’t want to think about.

Carlotta took a final deep drag on the cigarette, then exhaled leisurely while she glanced over the roofs of the quiet neighborhood. Where she and Wesley lived in Lindbergh, she’d grown accustomed to the boom of car radios and the scream of sirens. Here, the only thing disturbing the peace were suburban crickets.

She squinted at a flash of something—light? metal?—from the house closest to Peter’s, which was slightly up the hill and partially hidden by trees. There was a movement outside a window. As she continued to stare, she could make out more details and realized that someone was standing on a terrace in partial light.

Staring at her with binoculars.

Unnerved, she walked back inside and secured the door, dismissing the incident as typical neighborly snooping. In light of Angela’s scandalous behavior, she suspected more than one set of binoculars had been trained on the Ashford house over the past few months.

She suddenly felt very exposed.

After washing her face and donning silky tap pants and a matching camisole, she snuggled down in the mountain of pillows and set the alarm on her phone so she wouldn’t oversleep. She needed to allow extra time to get ready for work, not to mention drive an unfamiliar car along an unfamiliar commute. While she was scrolling through the features, her phone rang, startling her so badly she nearly dropped it.

She hadn’t realized how skittish she’d become.

But when she looked at the caller-ID screen, she smiled. Jack.

She connected the call. “Are you calling to tuck me in?”

His sexy laugh rumbled over the line. “Yup. What are you wearing?”

“Sweatpants and big fuzzy socks.”

“Good, that should keep Ashford in his place.”

She sighed. “What do you want, Jack?”

He made a rueful noise. “I mentioned that the GBI is coming on board The Charmed Killer case.”

“Yeah.”

“They want to interview you as soon as possible.”

Her heart raced—when would this ghastly situation end? “I can come down in the morning before I go to work. Eight o’clock?”

“Okay.”

“Jack, will you be there?”

“Couldn’t keep me away.”