8 Bodies is Enough--for Amazon

by Stephanie Bond

  Coop lifted the brim of his fedora to scan his surroundings. “After the ride you just took me on, I wasn’t expecting to land in mid-seventies suburbia.”

  “I took a circuitous route.” After hearing Coop’s theory that Agent Johns might have been strangled, she wasn’t taking any chances of being followed. “Ready?”

  He held up a plastic sack. “It’s not exactly a physician’s black bag, but the pharmacy had instruments to perform a routine exam.” He quirked a smile. “I think. It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  When she walked up to the front door, her heart was pounding almost as much as it had been yesterday. She knocked and gave Coop a reassuring glance. He looked alert, but not concerned. She loved how he seemed to take life in stride and with good humor.

  Birch opened the door and ushered them inside, glancing out before closing the door. “Hi, Carlotta.”

  “Hi, Birch. This is Cooper, the doctor friend I told you about on the phone.”

  The men shook hands and exchanged greetings.

  “Melanie is awake,” Birch said. “Right this way.”

  When Carlotta walked into the TV room and saw her mother looking beautiful and serene, she let out a breath she’d been holding. After Hannah had chided her about not taking a picture for proof, Carlotta was half afraid she’d come back and the house would be empty, or someone else would be living there and she’d fantasized the entire thing.

  “Melanie, we have company,” Birch said.

  Her mother lifted her head from the book she was reading and smiled. “Hello.”

  To Carlotta, her voice sounded like angels singing. “How are you today?”

  “I’m just fine,” her mother said, then bit into her lip. “Do I know you?”

  Carlotta’s heart sank in disappointment, but she went to clasp her hand. “We met yesterday. My hair was different. My name is Carlotta.”

  “Carlotta? What a nice name.”

  “Thank you. I see you’re reading today.”

  “Yes. It’s a very good book.” She held up one of the novels Carlotta had bought and shipped to the post office box—but she was reading it upside down.

  Carlotta glanced to Coop—he’d noticed.

  Her mother looked past her. “And who is this handsome fellow?”

  Carlotta smiled and waved him forward. “This is Cooper.”

  “Well, hello,” her mother said, giving him a coy smile.

  “Hi, Melanie,” Coop said, sandwiching her smaller hand between his two larger ones. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Melanie,” Birch said, “Cooper is a doctor. He’s going to give you a checkup, to make sure you’re okay.”

  She seemed happy about it. “Should I take off my clothes?”

  Carlotta gasped.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Coop said, not missing a beat. “Is it alright if I move this chair closer to you?”

  “Of course. We won’t tell my husband.”

  Carlotta exchanged wide-eyed glances with Birch.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” Coop said with a smile. He put a stethoscope around his neck. “I’m going to listen to your heart first.”

  “You’re making it beat very fast,” her mother said, batting her eyelashes.

  Biting back a smile, Carlotta stood at the rear of room with Birch as Coop took her blood pressure, looked into her ears and eyes, and checked her reflexes.

  Carlotta took the opportunity to snap a couple of photographs of her mother. “I saw you checking outside when we came in,” she said to Birch. “Is everything okay?”

  Birch nodded. “I’m just being careful after your warning. Is there anything you can tell me about the people who might come looking for Melanie?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more specific. In a few more days I should know more about Randolph’s But once I see what hMeanwhile, I’m working to ”

  “Your visit triggered a lot of memories,” Birch murmured. “She’s been talking nonstop about Mr. Randolph.”

  “It made Mommy sad,” Priscilla said.

  Carlotta turned to see the little girl standing in the doorway wearing a red dress and a black frown. “Hi, Priscilla. I thought you’d be in school today.”

  “We’re on break,” she said glumly. “Dad promised he would take me to the Eiffel Tower.”

  “He was going to take you to Paris on your school break?”

  Priscilla rolled her eyes. “No. To the Eiffel Tower Experience downtown.”

  “Oh, right. I remember seeing a brochure about it in the hotel.”

  “Do you know when he’s coming home?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. But I’m sure he misses you.”

  “Of course he misses me,” the girl said in a haughty tone.

  “Who is this?” Coop asked, walking up.

  “This is Priscilla,” Birch said, “the head of the household.”

  “I can see that,” Coop said. “Hi, Priscilla, I’m Cooper.”

  “Why are you giving those tests to my mother?”

  “Just to make sure she’s okay.”

  “But she’s not okay. Can you make her okay?”

  Carlotta’s heart squeezed at the girl’s pleading tone.

  “I’m not that kind of doctor,” Coop said gently. “But there might be doctors out there who can make her some better.”

  “Can you help us find one?” the girl asked.

  “I will try,” Coop said, giving her a wink.

  That got a shy smile out of her, revealing the telltale gap between her front teeth. Coop looked back and forth between Carlotta and Priscilla, then turned toward Birch. “How long has Melanie had memory issues?”

  “She was like this when I came to work for the family two years ago.”

  “During that time has her memory or motor skills gotten worse?”

  “Not really. I kept expecting her to, but she’s been pretty much the same.”

  Coop squatted down to be on Priscilla’s level. “Do you remember when your mother started forgetting things?”

  She nodded. “She forgot my sixth birthday.”

  “And how old are you now?”

  “I’m nine.”

  “Okay, that helps,” Coop said.

  “All done?” Carlotta asked.

  Coop nodded. “Do you have her medical records?”

  “Some,” Birch said, reaching for a manila file on an end table. “I made a copy for you, including her medications.”

  “Thank you,” Carlotta said. “We’ll go. I’ll call you later.” Then she turned to Priscilla. “I know it’s not the same, but how about fI come back tomorrow to take you to the Eiffel Tower? If that’s okay with Birch?”

  He nodded.

  Despite her taciturn mood, the little girl couldn’t help but look excited. “I guess that would be okay.”

  Carlotta was happy to see a crack in the little girl’s veneer. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She went back to her mother’s chair. Valerie had resumed “reading” the book, but she was simply turning the pages. Her heart squeezed at the look of concentration on her mother’s face.

  “Goodbye for now,” Carlotta said. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

  “Okay, dear. If you see Wesley outside riding his bike, will you tell him to come inside? I’ll have dinner ready soon.”

  Carlotta pressed her lips together. “Yes, of course I’ll tell him. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  She walked to the door with Coop and out into the sunshine. He was silent until they climbed in the car and she’d backed the rental car out of the driveway.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Coop asked.

  She threaded their way through the maze of identical streets. “I wouldn’t want you to know anything that would put you at odds with the fugitive task force. Or Jack Terry.”

  He dipped his chin in concession. “And the girl?”

/>   “An unexpected bonus,” Carlotta said with a smile. “What’s your assessment of Melanie’s medical condition?”

  He was reviewing her medical records. “According to this file, the doctor she sees is treating her for Alzheimer’s, although it’s not immediately clear what tests she’s undergone. There are different forms of dementia, but I’m not remotely qualified to make a diagnosis.”

  “Do you think she’s well enough to travel?”

  “In my opinion, yes. Her vital signs are strong, and her motor skills are good. You might ask her caretaker if she has anxiety around crowds or in confined spaces. But physically, she seems healthy.”

  She smiled. “How can I thank you?”

  “Not necessary. I’m happy to help. How did you find this, uh, friend of yours?”

  “I came into possession of a post office box address, and followed it from there.”

  “Hm. Jack said the address on the piece of paper in the mouth of Agent Johns was a P.O. box business.”

  She nodded. “I ran into Jack there. He accused me of taking the piece of paper out of the agent’s mouth and putting it back, but I didn’t—I already had the address. I don’t know how the agent got it, but I have a theory about why it was in his mouth when he died.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “If you had an address written on a sticky note that could lead to the whereabouts of a fugitive, and someone you didn’t want to have it confronted you, what would you do with the note?”

  Coop looked over at her. “I’d eat it.”

  “So would I.”

  Coop pulled his hand over his mouth. “Now I understand the subterfuge. Who else knows about this house?”

  “Hannah was with me when I staked out the post office box and followed Birch here. Counting you that makes two.”

  “Not even Peter?”

  She shook her head and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Especially not Peter.

  Chapter 18

  “WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING.” Peter’s voice reverberated low and agitated.

  Carlotta stood in the dark around the corner from his dressing room, listening to his phone conversation. She couldn’t tell who he was talking to, but he sounded desperate.

  “I’m trying to stay calm, but we’re running out of time.”

  The sheer panic in his words stirred the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck. She had awoken to find his side of the bed empty, and followed the glow of his phone.

  “If you don’t pull the trigger tomorrow,” he warned, “I’ll do it myself.”

  Sensing the end of the conversation, she crept back to her side of the bed and feigned sleep when Peter came back to the main room. He went to the kitchenette and poured something in a glass, then stood by the window looking at the lights of the city, his shoulders bowed as if the weight of the world were on them. She lay there tingling in the dark, trying to remember her optimism when she’d thought Vegas could be a place for them to start over. Instead, they each seemed to have found more problems to distract them from each other.

  The last time she’d seen Peter this out of sorts, he’d confessed to his wife Angela’s murder. Only she had believed him innocent despite the evidence to the contrary.

  She wanted to think the best of him again, and she truly believed Peter would never hurt her physically, but she was worried this time whatever he was involved with was bound up in her family somehow.

  Every path she took seemed to lead back to Randolph.

  She must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes, daylight streamed into the room and Peter’s side of the bed was cold. He’d left her a note saying he would try to be back to the hotel this evening in time for them to have dinner together. He signed it with “I love you. Always, Peter.”

  Bittersweetness welled up in her chest. Was it possible she and Peter liked the idea of being a couple more than actually being a couple?

  She retrieved her phone and unlocked the screen, hating that she’d gotten into the habit of putting safeguards on her device. As soon as she got back to Atlanta, she was buying a new phone with her own service plan.

  Priscilla would probably need some sort of phone, too. Not something fancy enough to stream porn and other objectionable material—like discount shopping ads—but a model that would allow her to contact Carlotta anytime, anyplace.

  And just like that, she realized she’d already made room for the little girl in her heart. Once they got home, Coop would help her find a doctor for Valerie, and they’d sort things out.

  The big question mark was if Randolph would be there…or alive.

  She texted Liz. Any news on Randolph’s condition?

  Same, holding. Have you convinced Wes to talk about the money?

  No, will try again today.

  Try hard.

  Carlotta frowned. She appreciated Liz helping Wes, but the woman didn’t have to act as if she was the only one who cared about her brother’s welfare. Although, maybe it was Liz’s way to make up for the baby-daddy debacle. And she was probably eager for her client to avoid a trial about the time Liz would be very pregnant.

  With Jack, Jr.

  She snapped the pink bracelet on her abused wrist and consoled herself with the knowledge that as the bruise worsened, her heart was healing.

  After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she moved to the window to take in the frantic display—was neon really necessary before noon?—and called Hannah.

  “Hiya. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if Chance had been to see Wes.”

  “No. He’s talked to him on the phone a couple of times.”

  “At least Wes is talking to someone. Is he okay?”

  “Chance said he’s holding up.”

  “Does Chance know where Wes got the counterfeit money?”

  “He told Chance he won it in a poker game.”

  So he was still standing by his original story. “Okay, thanks. Also, I was hoping I could borrow your rental car today if you’re not using it.”

  “Are you going to see you-know-who?”

  Carlotta frowned. “Yes.”

  “Want some company?”

  “Uh—actually, I’m taking Priscilla on an outing—you know, just the two of us.”

  “So Coop gets an introduction to your new family, and I don’t?”

  Carlotta blinked at Hannah’s hurt tone. “It’s not like that. I want you to meet them when the time is right.”

  “Well, actually, I’m going to need the rental car today.”

  Her friends sounded…angry? “No problem,” Carlotta said lightly. “I’ll get a car. Maybe we can have a drink when I get back?”

  “Um…I’m going to be busy.”

  “Okay. Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, sure. Listen, I have to go.”

  “Bye,” Carlotta said, but Hannah had already disconnected the call.

  She chalked up the strange behavior to Hannah’s anxiety over revealing her other persona to Chance. But the fact that Hannah and Chance were together to begin with still boggled her mind.

  With Coop’s theory about the dead agent still in mind, she walked to a rental car place, keeping an eye out for anyone following her. After securing a mid-size sedan, she decided to first drive to the jail to try to talk to Wes.

  After the ordeal of parking and waiting to request to see him, she was told he’d refused to see her. She left a care package of candy bars and a science fiction novel she found in the gift shop. Inside the front cover of the book she wrote. I need to see you before I leave LV. Very important. Love, C

  She left the jail and drove a winding path back to the little ranch house, with one eye on the rearview mirror. At one point she noticed a green car hanging back several hundred yards, but she made a few turns into a maze of subdivisions and didn’t see it again. By the time she pulled onto the driveway where Melanie and Priscilla lived, she conceded her father had chosen a good place to hide his family. The neighborhood w
as numbingly unvaried. If not for the house numbers, it would be nearly impossible to tell one home from the one next to it. They were all within a few paint shades of adobe, all with tumbled rock lawns instead of grass in deference to the desert heat, all with the same sago palm tree and scrub bushes for landscaping. As long as the residents didn’t do anything to stand out, they could probably go relatively unnoticed.

  But this was no life for a child.

  When Carlotta knocked on the front door, Priscilla opened it, with Birch close behind.

  “Are you ready?” Carlotta asked.

  “Yes,” the girl said primly, her eyes wide. “I put on lots of sunscreen.”

  Birch told her to have a good time and mind her manners. And Carlotta noticed she skipped a little on the way to the car. She was wearing purple shorts and a flowered T-shirt, with white sandals. Once inside the rental, Priscilla fastened her seatbelt with precision and sat in the seat like a little soldier.

  “I like your outfit,” Carlotta said.

  “Thank you. I like pretty clothes.”

  Carlotta laughed. “So do I. In fact, I work at a department store.”

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh. In a mall.” Carlotta backed the car out of the driveway and headed toward the Strip.

  “Do you have kids?”

  “No. I’m not married.”

  “You don’t have to be married to have kids.”

  Out of the mouth of babes. “That’s true.”

  “Where is my daddy?”

  “He’s in Atlanta. He’s…sick.”

  “Sick like Mom?”

  “Uh, no. He…fell and hurt himself.”

  “Is he going to get better?”

  “I hope so.”

  She turned big brown eyes toward Carlotta. “Who’s going to take care of us?”

  Carlotta swallowed hard. “I am.”

  “We’re going to live with you in Atlanta?”

  “Would you like that?”

  “I don’t know,” the girl said, looking earnest. “Can I think about it?”

  “Of course. Why don’t you tell me about school?”

  Carlotta listened to her chatter about her friends and teachers and subjects she liked while looking out for the green car, but she didn’t see it again.