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Authors: Stephanie Bond

2 Bodies for the Price of 1 (22 page)

BOOK: 2 Bodies for the Price of 1
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He swallowed. “A guesthouse?”

“Yes. Actually, it’s more of an office. Your father and I used to work on his case there. In fact, all the files are still there.”

At the spike in his pulse, his erection sprang to life. “Really? I’d like to see them.”

“Then come over sometime.”

“Wesley!”

He turned his head to see Jack Terry standing in front of the funeral home, legs wide, hands on hips—his pissed-off-cop stance.

“What?” Wesley shouted back.

Jack gestured for him to come back to the funeral home and Wesley tamped down the urge to return a gesture of his own. “Guess I’d better go,” he said to Liz.

“Okay,” she said silkily. “Just keep my offer in mind. Do you still have my card?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She turned and walked to her red convertible Jag. Wesley exhaled slowly. Her car alone could make him come.

Reluctantly, he walked back to the funeral home. Jack was standing there, watching Liz drive away, his mouth set.

“What do you want?” Wesley asked.

“Lucas wants to see you and your sister inside for a debriefing,” the detective said, biting off his words.

“We’re waiting for you.”

29

W
hile Jack went in search of Wesley, Carlotta went in search of Hannah. She found her still sitting on the front pew in the now-empty chapel, staring at the red casket. She looked ghoulish with black eyeliner running down her face. Carlotta settled into the pew next to her.

“She must have been a good friend of yours,” she said in her older-lady voice.

Hannah glared. “The bitch didn’t even say goodbye.”

Carlotta bit back a smile. “Sometimes people hurt the ones they love for reasons that can’t be explained.”

“Do you write for Hallmark or something, lady?”

“No. But I can tell that you’re upset.”

Hannah pulled at a shredded tissue in her hand. “She’s the only person I could be myself around.”

“She probably felt that same way about you.”

“It’s my fault.”

Carlotta frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I knew she was depressed. You wouldn’t believe the things she’s been through—her brother didn’t tell the half of it. If I’d been her, I’d have killed myself ages ago.”

Carlotta’s powdered eyebrows arched.

Hannah blew her nose noisily, piercings clinking. “But she hung in there through a lot of bad shit. I thought things were getting better. Her brother was starting to be more responsible and she’d met this guy who was crazy about her.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Hannah’s shoulders fell. “I just didn’t see the signs.”

“It’s true that sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us.”

Hannah squinted. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Carlotta reached up to remove the retainer that fixed her gapped grin. “Hannah, it’s me.”

Hannah’s eyes widened and she scrambled back on the pew. “Carlotta—you’re back! I always made you promise that if you died first, you’d let me know what it’s like.” She frowned at the costume. “Was that the only body available?”

Carlotta rolled her eyes. “Hannah, you idiot, I’m not dead. I never was. It was all a hoax.”

As realization dawned, Hannah’s face revealed disbelief, then surprise, then anger. “You bitch! I can’t believe you did this to me!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to—let me explain.” She told Hannah in as few words as possible what had transpired in the last few days, leaving out the part where she’d had sex with Jack.

Hannah pointed to the casket. “So who’s in there?”

“Nobody. Coop pulled it from the sample room.”

“So Coop was in on this? And Wesley?”

“Yes, but not willingly. And Peter knew, but only because he was there the night I came home and found out everyone thought I was dead.”

“So the woman who jumped…”

“We still don’t know who she is or why she killed herself.”

“Amazing. What about your job?”

“I, uh, kind of got suspended before this all happened. But Detective Terry let Lindy in on it so she’d keep my job open.”

A movement in the back of the chapel caught her attention. She looked up to see Jack and was relieved to see Wesley with him.

“I have to go meet with the D.A.,” she said to Hannah, then winced. “How mad at me are you?”

Hannah glared. “Superbly.” Slowly her glare turned into a smirk and she sighed. “But I’ll wait to take you and Wesley home.”

Carlotta smiled. “Thanks. Oh, and you said some pretty nice things just now.”

The glare returned. “You know, I could kill you and then this funeral wouldn’t have been wasted.”

Carlotta laughed as she walked back up the aisle, but sobered by the time she reached Jack and Wesley.

“So we’ve been summoned.”

Jack nodded curtly and led them to an office where Kelvin Lucas and a couple of assistant D.A.’s were waiting. Lucas looked at her and frowned. “Who’s this?”

“It’s me, Lucas. Carlotta.”

He squinted, then looked at Jack, who looked at the ceiling. Lucas frowned, then cleared his throat. “I thought you should know how we’ll be proceeding.”

“Since you didn’t trick my dad into giving himself up?” Wesley asked in a bored tone.

“Your father is a criminal,” Lucas spat out. “And I guess I gave him more credit than he deserved when I thought he might care enough about his own daughter to come to her funeral.”

Carlotta hugged herself, glad for the heavy makeup to hide behind. A lump of emotion lodged painfully in her throat as all eyes in the room darted to her, then away. Jack shifted and wiped his hand over his mouth.

“My father cares,” Wesley said angrily. “He probably knew it was a trap.”

Lucas gave a dry laugh. “Your father isn’t smart, kid, just heartless.”

“He’s smart enough to have outwitted you this long,” Wesley returned.

“Wesley,” Carlotta admonished, trying to salvage the situation, “not now.” She turned to Lucas. “We had a deal.”

But Lucas was staring at Wesley with loathing—pent up hatred for their father, no doubt. “The deal’s off.”

“Lucas—” Jack began.

“I said they could have the reward money if they helped to lure in their father and if he was captured. He wasn’t, therefore no reward.”

Carlotta had expected as much, but struggled to contain her disappointment. Besides, she hadn’t done it for the reward—she’d done it to buy Wesley some breathing room. “What about my brother’s probation and fine?”

“Unchanged,” Kelvin said, eyeing Wesley triumphantly.

She gripped the edge of the table for support. “But you said—”

“You should talk to your brother, Carlotta, and convince him to be as cooperative as you are.”

He might as well have slapped her. Lucas made it sound as if she were on his side, but she’d done this for Wesley. And all for nothing. How stupid was she not to get Liz involved, not to get the D.A.’s offer in writing?

“What gives you the right to play games with my family?” she said to the smug, odious man, her voice shaking.

“My job title,” he said simply, cracking his knuckles with a casual sweep of his hands. “And the fact that your father and brother both committed crimes in my jurisdiction.”

“Lucas, with all due respect,” Jack broke in, “you owe Carlotta and Wesley
something
for their assistance.

Carlotta allowed her friends and family to think she was dead, for God’s sake.”

“A press release will be issued from my office in time for the eleven o’clock news stating that Ms. Wren had checked herself into a clinic for exhaustion. Her car and purse were stolen by some desperate woman who took her own life and who has yet to be identified. It was all a case of mistaken identity.” Lucas pushed to his feet. “This meeting is over.”

She looked at Jack, panicked that everything was falling apart. He gave her an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Lucas,” he said. “Someone stole Carlotta’s identity. The least we can do is to use the power of the D.A.’s office to help get her financial records straightened out.”

Lucas gave him a strange look. “Have the Wrens become a charity project of yours, Detective?”

A muscle jumped in Jack’s jaw. “That was out of line, sir.”

“Not if it keeps you from going
over
the line, Detective.” Lucas swept out the door, his assistants scrambling behind him.

“Fucking asshole,” Wesley muttered, then looked at Carlotta. “Told you so.”

Carlotta blinked back tears—the entire charade, for nothing. Oh, unless she counted making a fool out of herself with Jack Terry. She looked at Jack and betrayal flooded over her in waves. He was the one who’d convinced her to go along with Lucas.

“Wesley,” she said through gritted teeth, “Hannah’s waiting in the chapel to take us home. Let’s go.”

Wesley stomped out and as she followed him, Jack reached out to clasp her arm. “Carlotta, wait.”

She stopped and stared up at him wearily. “What do you want, Jack?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He lifted his hands. “For…everything. I’m sorry for going along with Lucas.”

“You were just doing your job,” she said, parroting him.

A shadow fell over his gold-colored eyes “And I’m sorry that your parents didn’t show. I know how that must make you feel.”

She gave him a flat smile. “Don’t presume to know how I feel about anything, Detective. See you around.”

Feeling defeated but determined not to let it show, she walked back through the entryway to where Wesley stood talking to Coop, figuring out their week’s work schedule. She slowed as she approached, noting the men’s body language—Wesley gravitated to the older man, unwittingly mimicking his movements. They seemed to click on several levels and for that, she was grateful to Coop.

Coop turned and took in her costume. “I thought that was you.”

She frowned, indignant. “How could you tell?”

“When you look at someone as much as I’ve looked at you, you just know.”

Wesley gave his boss a withering look. “I’ll go get Hannah.”

Carlotta bit back a smile as they followed Wesley into the chapel. “Thank you for all the trouble, Coop.”

“I was paid for my services,” Coop said. “You were the one who had to go through all the trouble.” His eyes suddenly clouded with concern. “Carlotta, I’m sorry your parents didn’t show.”

The sincerity in his face dissolved the offhand joke that sprang to her tongue. “Thank you,” she murmured instead. Then she angled her head at him. “I didn’t know you played piano.”

A smile curved his mouth. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” Then the smile disappeared.

“Unfortunately, not all of it is good.”

She studied his light-brown eyes and realized that despite his peaceful exterior, Coop was still haunted by things in his past. “Perfection is boring,” she said lightly.

“You think?” He looked as if he wanted to say more, then changed his mind. She wondered if the memory of her kissing Jack had stopped him.

Gesturing toward the front of the chapel, she asked, “Is there something that can be done with all the flowers that people sent?”

“I have a gentleman to bury who is indigent; I can send the flowers to his gravesite.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

“Sis,” Wesley called, “I thought you said Hannah was in here?”

Carlotta looked around the empty chapel. “She was—” She spied the casket and noticed that the white roses on top had been displaced.

Hannah
wouldn’t.

But as she rushed to the casket, she knew that Hannah
would.

She yanked up the lid and sure enough, Hannah lay inside in all her Goth glory.

“Hannah!” Carlotta shouted.

Hannah’s eyes popped open, her expression reverent. “This could possibly be the best day of my life.”

“Get out.”

“Okay, okay. Give me a hand, would you?”

It took all of them to get Hannah out of the casket, then Carlotta shepherded her toward the parking lot before she could do any more damage. When they reached the graffitied van, Hannah suddenly gave her a fierce hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

Carlotta smiled and nodded, then expelled a long sigh. What a day! She climbed into the van, feeling as old as she was made up to be. While Hannah and Wesley chatted about his latest body retrievals, she leaned her head back and tried to forget what had transpired over the past few days. As they pulled out of the parking lot, they passed Jack’s car, and he was sitting in it. In the few seconds that their gazes locked, she tried to telegraph the betrayal she felt over the way things had turned out—and that she never wanted to see him again.

Minus ten points, Jack.

30

W
hen Hannah dropped them off—and retrieved her black door wreath, thank you very much—Carlotta’s first thought when she walked into the townhouse was that it felt empty. Of course, Jack was a big guy, he’d taken up a lot of room in their small place. So naturally it
would
feel empty.

“Whew, it’s nice to have our place back to ourselves,” Wesley said, dropping onto the couch and reaching for the remote control.

“Right,” she said. “I think I’m going to go take off this getup.”

“Okay,” he said absently.

“Wesley.”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t have to say all those nice things that you said today at the service.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Thanks.”

He gestured to her costume. “Don’t mention it, Grandma.”

“And I’m sorry that I let Kelvin Lucas talk me into this whole charade. I should’ve listened to you. And I should’ve told you about Dad calling.”

“Yeah, I should be in the loop on family stuff.”

“So do you think Dad knew the funeral thing was a trap?”

“Yeah.”

“But how?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he has the house bugged.”

Carlotta pursed her lips. “I hadn’t thought about that.” Then she winced. If so, her parents had been privy to some pretty harsh things she’d said about them…not to mention her sexcapade with Detective Terry.

“Or maybe he did something low-tech, like call.”

“But Jack wouldn’t let me answer the phone, I could only call out.”

BOOK: 2 Bodies for the Price of 1
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