Body Movers: 3 Men and a Body

“He was supposed to meet me at the hospital after the interview, but he didn’t show.”

“Have you called the police?” Eldora asked hesitantly. Carlotta thought she detected more than professional interest in her tone.

“That’s next on my list.”

“Will you have Wesley phone me as soon as you … see him? He’ll have to make up the missed meeting.”

Carlotta promised she would, then hung up and put her head between her knees to relieve the light-headedness that suddenly overcame her. Please, God. She reached for the phone again and dialed Detective Jack Terry’s number from memory.

Jack had arrested Wesley for hacking into the courthouse computer. He’d reopened their father’s case. He’d investigated a couple of little murders that Carlotta had gotten involved in accidentally. And in between, he’d given her one or three mind-boggling orgasms. Theirs was a lust-hate relationship. After the fiasco at the Fox Theatre, during which he’d broken her fall, she was hoping she wouldn’t have to call him anytime soon.

Here we go again.

“Jack Terry,” said the rough-hewn voice over the line.

It was so unexpectedly comforting, Carlotta’s throat choked with emotion.

“Hello?” he said. “Is anyone there?”

“Jack,” she cried.

“Carlotta? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Wesley,” she said, openly sobbing now.

“Are you at home?”

“Yes,” she blubbered.

“I’m on my way.”

3

Six minutes later, Detective Jack Terry walked through her door. Carlotta had pulled herself together and had promised herself she’d behave professionally with Jack, just like anyone else would report a potential crime to any police officer.

Instead, she went into his arms and pressed her wet face against his ugly tie. He just held her and rubbed circles on her back.

“You have to give me something to go on here,” he finally said into her hair.

She sniffled and lifted her head. “Wesley’s missing.”

He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her for an awkward one-hand nose blow. “Let’s sit down and you can tell me what’s going on.”

They settled on the couch and she relayed what she knew, from how Wesley hadn’t shown up at the hospital the previous day to the fact that he’d missed the meeting with his probation officer.

Jack’s expression was serious, but not concerned. “So he’s been missing for less than twenty-four hours.”

“Yes, but something’s wrong, I know it.”

“Has he ever disappeared before?”

Carlotta hesitated. “This is different.”

Jack’s face relaxed. “Probably not. He could be with a buddy, hanging out, or maybe he found a card game.”

“His friend Chance Hollander called here. He doesn’t know where Wesley is.”

“That’s the guy who gave us the tip in the Angela Ashford murder, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “I don’t trust him. I think he’s into something illegal.”

“His friend could’ve been covering for him. Maybe Wesley was right in front of him, stoned, or sleeping off a hangover. Doesn’t Wesley have more than one buddy?”

“Not really,” she said, then frowned. “Not that I know of. But there’s a woman.”

“A woman?”

“I don’t know who she is, but sometimes he comes home smelling of expensive perfume.”

“I think I caught a whiff of that myself the night of the drive-by shooting,” he said, nodding. “That could be where he is.” He winked and thumbed away a tear from her cheek. “See, nothing to worry about.”

“But remember what those guys you arrested here said about Wesley being in trouble with The Carver.”

“I remember. I also remember telling you that if Wesley has gotten himself in deep with these guys, he’s going to have to figure a way to get out of it.”

“But what if they hurt him?”

His mouth twitched downward. “He’s young. He’ll heal. And maybe a beating is what he needs to convince him that these aren’t people he wants to do business with.”

She gasped. “But what if they kill him?”

“That’s not likely. An intelligent young guy like Wesley is more valuable to them alive.”

That made her smile slightly. “You think he’s intelligent?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, he’s not very smart.”

“He’s only nineteen.”

“He’s not a kid, Carlotta. When I was nineteen, I’d traveled halfway around the world.”

“In the military?”

He nodded. “Don’t baby him. If you do, you’ll never have a life of your own.”

“So you’re telling me there’s nothing I can do?”

“Legally, not until he’s been missing for twenty-four hours. Off the record, though, I’ll do a little nosing around.”