Read Online 2 Bodies for the Price of 1 by Stephanie Bond - Free Book Online

mall and the half-block walk to the train station, she garnered lots of enviable stares. On the packed train however, the stares became murderous as she inadvertently poked an eye here, snagged someone’s clothing there.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled to no one and to everyone standing near her in the shoulder to shoulder crowd. To save space, she brought the bouquet closer to her face but the sickeningly sweet scent of the roses reminded her of death—of the scent that permeated the funeral home that Cooper Craft ran.
    She wondered if he’d called Hannah yet for a “body run” or if he and Wesley were working together today. Body moving wasn’t the sort of job she’d hoped Wesley would get, but with his recent arrest record and probation, she couldn’t complain. At least he was bringing in money legitimately, making his weekly payments to the thugs he owed and staying away from the card tables. And Coop seemed to be a good influence on Wesley, which was a relief. After raising Wesley, she had enormous respect for single mothers; the pressure was relentless. So was the guilt.
    Things should have been so different for Wesley. For her. The thought only fueled her frustration and confusion over her father’s cryptic phone calls. What should she do? Report it? Wait? Report it, then wait?
    “Lindbergh,” the conductor announced. “Lindbergh is your next station.”
    The train slowed to a swaying halt and the doors lurched opened. Carlotta pushed her way to the platform and rode the escalator to the street level. A whipping wind had descended with the promise of rain before she could walk the few blocks home.
    She picked up the pace, cursing the questionable repair shop and thinking that if she’d known her car wouldn’t be ready, she wouldn’t have worn her Stuart Weitzman mules to work. They were good for standing still or for sashaying around the sales floor, not so good for eating up uneven sidewalks while wrestling an enormous vase of roses. By the time it started to rain, she had the beginning of a serious blister or three. She muttered a string of curses as she tried to shield her Nancy Gonzalez clutch. It was last year’s style, but didn’t deserve water spots.
    She glanced around at the slightly shabby homes in her neighborhood, Lindbergh or as locals liked to say, east Buckhead. When they’d moved here after her parents had lost their lavish home, Wesley had called it Limberg, like the cheese, and her mother had said it was fitting. The cramped, nondescript town house had been a jolt to them all after living large. Even the weather in this part of town seemed to reflect the plight of the people who lived here—not quite as good as anywhere else. She’d bet that a few miles away in Buckhead, skies were blue.
    She was hobbling in pain by the time she reached the stoop of their home. The rain had stopped, but she was thoroughly drenched as she fumbled with the flowers and her key ring.
    “Well, aren’t you special?”
    Carlotta turned her head to see their neighbor Mrs. Winningham standing on the other side of the fence she’d erected. The tall, skinny woman sported a bright red helmet of teased hair, elastic-waist polyester pants and a shiny button-up shirt. In her arms she held an umbrella and her dog, Toofers, the ugliest, meanest canine imaginable. Over the years, the bizarrely black-tufted dog had sunk its razor teeth into Wesley more times that she could count. And always when they could least afford a trip to the emergency room for stitches.
    “Hello, Mrs. Winningham. Hello, Toofers.”
    Toofers growled at her, and the woman gave him a reassuring pat. “Nice flowers, Carlotta. Do you have a man friend?”
    “Uh…no.”
    “There’ve been a lot of men coming around lately. The man who drives the dark sedan, for instance, and the man with the fancy little sports car and the man who drives the white van.”
    She’d bet the woman had copied down all the license plates, too. “Those are just friends