5 Bodies To Die For. Stephanie Bond

with my brother and was living in our guest room, unbeknownst to us.”

      “That’s quite a story,” Wick said wryly.

      Carlotta didn’t respond.

      “Your brother,” Green broke in, glancing over the file in front of him. “That would be Wesley Wren?”

      “That’s correct.”

      “And both of you have records?” Wick asked, taking the file. “Your brother for computer crimes and you for assault?”

      Carlotta squirmed. “I once used a tire iron on a man my brother owed money to, but that was in self-defense.”

      “And your brother’s computer hacking? Was that also in self-defense?”

      “No,” she conceded. “But Wes is on probation and doing community service. He’s paying for his crime.”

      “Your father is Randolph Wren, is that right?” Wick asked.

      She tried not to react. “Yes.”

      “And he’s a fugitive.”

      “Isn’t that what your file says?”

      Wick smiled. “Yes, it does. Do you know where your father is?”

      “No.”

      “When was the last time you saw him?”

      A few weeks ago at a Florida rest area. “Just before Christmas, my senior year of high school.”

      “He and your mother abandoned you and your brother?”

      “Hey, ease up, partner,” Green said, then gave Carlotta a sympathetic look.

      They were playing her. “Yes, my parents abandoned me and my brother.”

      “Must’ve been tough,” Green offered.

      “Wesley and I both are fine,” she said evenly.

      Wick made a rueful noise in his throat. “Your files say otherwise. It says here that last year you were questioned in the murder of a man named Gary Hagan.”

      “And does it also say I was cleared?” she asked. “He was found dead at a party I attended—everyone was questioned.”

      “It says here that you crashed that party.”

      She shrugged. “Party crashing isn’t a capital offense. Besides…I don’t do that anymore.” Unless she had a very good reason.

      Wick scanned the file, using his finger as a pointer. “You were also a suspect in the murder of, let’s see…Angela Ashford?”

      “And cleared again,” she said. “Angela was the wife of a good friend of mine.”

      “Hmm. Then you reportedly jumped off an overpass and committed suicide?”

      “That was actually Barbara Rook, a woman who stole my identity. And she didn’t jump—she was murdered. The D.A. asked me to go along and plan my own funeral to draw out the murderer, who turned out to be Michael Lane, by the way.”

      “It’s our understanding that you were asked to plan your own funeral to draw out your parents, not the murderer.”

      She hardened her jaw. “Well…it didn’t work.” Only Wesley and Coop knew that Randolph had shown up in disguise. She hadn’t even known it until she found the note he’d slipped into her pocket.

      “But wasn’t your father a suspect in the Barbara Rook case?” Wick asked.

      “My father seems to be a convenient suspect when there’s no one else to pin things on.”

      Wick sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Looks to me as if trouble runs in the family. I understand you were also on the scenes when three of the victims of The Charmed Killer were discovered.”

      “I was there, but after the fact. I was helping to remove the bodies from the scene.”

      Wick leaned forward. “You’re a salesclerk at Neiman’s, but you moonlight as a body mover?”

      Her hairline felt moist. “Yes?”

      Wick squinted. “I’m sorry, is that a question?”

      Carlotta swallowed hard. “I mean yes…I sort of got into body moving accidentally.”

      “Let me guess—you just happened onto a crime scene one night and started folding and stacking body bags?”

      She frowned. “No. My brother began working with Cooper Craft, who contracts with the morgue to haul bodies. I went along a few times to help.”