Read Online Six Killer Bodies by Stephanie Bond - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephanie Bond
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sped up. Was that
Coop’s way of saying The Charmed Kil er was stil out
there? Despite the grim prospect, the possibility cheered
her immensely. She was suddenly eager to start looking
into the background of the first victim, to hopeful y find
something that might piece together the identity of the
madman stalking the city. And figure out why Coop would
be wil ing to shoulder the blame for such heinous crimes.
When they arrived at Peter’s home, a silver two-door
Honda Civic rental car sat in the circular driveway.
“It has GPS,” Peter said. “And it’s yours for as long as you
need it. I told my insurance company to slip the key
through the mail slot in the front door.”
“Thank you,” she said, happy to have transportation again.
She’d totaled Peter’s Porsche without even leaving the
driveway. And the pink Vespa he’d bought her had been
demolished when she’d been unable to avoid a burned
body dumped in her path. A typical day in her life.
When they entered Peter’s house, the silence seemed
oppressive to Carlotta. She walked through the great room
and glanced toward the wide staircase that led to their
respective bedrooms. Peter had grown less chatty, as if he,
too, felt the awkwardness descend. His expression was a
mixture of anxiety and longing.
“I think I’l go ahead and turn in,” she said in a rush. “My
back is stil sore from the accident.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding relieved. “I think I’l stay up and
work a little. Good night.”
“Good night.” She fled before tension could overtake the
moment. Upstairs, she closed the door to the guest room
where she’d been staying. Peter had been kind enough to
offer her refuge when she’d needed a safe place to stay.
But it had come with the expectation that they would
work on their relationship. It wasn’t too much to ask,
Carlotta conceded, but she hadn’t anticipated that soon
after, Wesley would test positive for drugs, and Coop
would be arrested as a serial kil er.
And that she would stil feel so uncertain about creating a
life with Peter.
After washing her face and putting on pajamas, Carlotta
climbed under the covers of the bed. She longed for sleep
to erase the problems plucking at her. But she was half-
afraid to close her eyes, afraid that the morning would
bring yet another crisis.
From the nightstand, her cel phone rang. She glanced at
the caller ID screen. Jack. His cal was becoming a nightly
ritual.
She connected the call. “Hi, Jack.”
“All tucked in by your lonesome again?”
She sighed. “What do you want, Jack? It’s been a long
day.”
“I could come over and rub your—”
“Jack!”
“I was going to say ‘feet.’”
“I’m sure Peter would love that,” she offered.
“Maybe he’s into watching versus doing.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait. I called to tel you that the GBI agents want you to
come in Monday morning to answer more questions.”
“About Coop?”
“I’d say that’s a safe bet.”
“Are you back on The Charmed Kil er case?”
“Not officially, but I occasionally hear things.”
Pil ow talk with Maria? “So when I get the formal request,
I’m supposed to act surprised.”
“Yeah, you’l have to really stretch yourself because you
never lie,” he said dryly.
“Acting comes in handy sometimes,” she cooed. “A
woman never knows when she might have to fake it.”
He laughed. “Not with me, sweetheart.”
She frowned. He was right, the arrogant man. Unbidden
desire whipped through her body, and on the heels of it, a
shot of melancholy, because nothing in her life seemed to
be in sync. She knew Jack was withholding information
from her, and he knew she was withholding information
from him.
“Jack…I’m scared.”
“Of the dark?”
She smiled. “Yes. I’m scared of the dark.”
“Set the phone on your pil ow,” he said quietly. “I’ll wait
until you fall asleep before I hang up.”
The man was
Coop’s way of saying The Charmed Kil er was stil out
there? Despite the grim prospect, the possibility cheered
her immensely. She was suddenly eager to start looking
into the background of the first victim, to hopeful y find
something that might piece together the identity of the
madman stalking the city. And figure out why Coop would
be wil ing to shoulder the blame for such heinous crimes.
When they arrived at Peter’s home, a silver two-door
Honda Civic rental car sat in the circular driveway.
“It has GPS,” Peter said. “And it’s yours for as long as you
need it. I told my insurance company to slip the key
through the mail slot in the front door.”
“Thank you,” she said, happy to have transportation again.
She’d totaled Peter’s Porsche without even leaving the
driveway. And the pink Vespa he’d bought her had been
demolished when she’d been unable to avoid a burned
body dumped in her path. A typical day in her life.
When they entered Peter’s house, the silence seemed
oppressive to Carlotta. She walked through the great room
and glanced toward the wide staircase that led to their
respective bedrooms. Peter had grown less chatty, as if he,
too, felt the awkwardness descend. His expression was a
mixture of anxiety and longing.
“I think I’l go ahead and turn in,” she said in a rush. “My
back is stil sore from the accident.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding relieved. “I think I’l stay up and
work a little. Good night.”
“Good night.” She fled before tension could overtake the
moment. Upstairs, she closed the door to the guest room
where she’d been staying. Peter had been kind enough to
offer her refuge when she’d needed a safe place to stay.
But it had come with the expectation that they would
work on their relationship. It wasn’t too much to ask,
Carlotta conceded, but she hadn’t anticipated that soon
after, Wesley would test positive for drugs, and Coop
would be arrested as a serial kil er.
And that she would stil feel so uncertain about creating a
life with Peter.
After washing her face and putting on pajamas, Carlotta
climbed under the covers of the bed. She longed for sleep
to erase the problems plucking at her. But she was half-
afraid to close her eyes, afraid that the morning would
bring yet another crisis.
From the nightstand, her cel phone rang. She glanced at
the caller ID screen. Jack. His cal was becoming a nightly
ritual.
She connected the call. “Hi, Jack.”
“All tucked in by your lonesome again?”
She sighed. “What do you want, Jack? It’s been a long
day.”
“I could come over and rub your—”
“Jack!”
“I was going to say ‘feet.’”
“I’m sure Peter would love that,” she offered.
“Maybe he’s into watching versus doing.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait. I called to tel you that the GBI agents want you to
come in Monday morning to answer more questions.”
“About Coop?”
“I’d say that’s a safe bet.”
“Are you back on The Charmed Kil er case?”
“Not officially, but I occasionally hear things.”
Pil ow talk with Maria? “So when I get the formal request,
I’m supposed to act surprised.”
“Yeah, you’l have to really stretch yourself because you
never lie,” he said dryly.
“Acting comes in handy sometimes,” she cooed. “A
woman never knows when she might have to fake it.”
He laughed. “Not with me, sweetheart.”
She frowned. He was right, the arrogant man. Unbidden
desire whipped through her body, and on the heels of it, a
shot of melancholy, because nothing in her life seemed to
be in sync. She knew Jack was withholding information
from her, and he knew she was withholding information
from him.
“Jack…I’m scared.”
“Of the dark?”
She smiled. “Yes. I’m scared of the dark.”
“Set the phone on your pil ow,” he said quietly. “I’ll wait
until you fall asleep before I hang up.”
The man was
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