“Peter’s been very good to me,” Carlotta murmured.
“You mean the man who dumped you years ago when your parents left town? The man who’s suddenly all over you when his wife has only been dead for a few weeks? Yeah, he’s a real stand-up guy.”
“It’s complicated.” No one knew that her father had also called Peter, who now worked for Mashburn & Tully, the investment firm where her father had been accused of stealing from customers’ accounts. Randolph Wren had asked Peter for his help in finding an alleged file that could prove his innocence. It was a secret that bound her and Peter together.
Then there was the ring….
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made Carlotta leap off the couch. “It’s Coop,” she said when she saw the white van. She watched until he got out of the van—alone. “But Wesley isn’t with him.”
She opened the front door and stepped out on the stoop in the early morning heat, eager for news. “Did you find him?”
Cooper Craft was tall and lean, with light brown hair and long, neat sideburns. He lifted his gaze to hers and shook his head. “No. You haven’t heard from him?”
“No,” Carlotta said, feeling the stirrings of true panic. “I’ve been calling his cell phone every hour. How far could he get on a bicycle?”
He gave her a little smile. “He’ll turn up.”
But she could tell by his haggard expression that Wesley’s body-moving boss was worried, too. It made her sick with fear. “Come in. I’ll make coffee.”
2
When Coop entered the house Carlotta noticed that he was wearing the same clothes he’d had on yesterday. His hair was disheveled; his sideburns merged with an unshaved jaw. Her heart tugged when she realized he hadn’t been to bed. “Did you drive around all night?”
“I checked the hospital emergency rooms and a few places I thought he might be, but no one had seen him.”
“Hi, Coop.”
He looked up and did a double take at Carlotta’s stripe-haired friend standing barefoot and fresh-faced in her unexpectedly cuddly pj’s. “Hannah?”
She flapped her eyelashes. Hannah had a huge crush on Coop. “In the flesh. Um, this isn’t what I normally sleep in, in case you’re interested.”
Carlotta rolled her eyes as Coop smothered a smile. “Okay. Did you keep Carlotta company last night?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” He glanced at Carlotta, his gaze softening. “I was worried about you. How’s your arm?”
She squirmed. “It’s fine, thanks. How about that coffee?”
“I’ll make a pot,” Hannah said with a frown. “Yours is sludge.” When she disappeared into the kitchen, Carlotta motioned for Coop to sit down.
He lowered his long frame into a chair, then removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to throttle Wesley for making you worry so much.”
Carlotta smiled to herself—for making her worry so much? Since Coop had hired Wesley to help him move bodies for the county morgue, he’d become a mentor to her brother. Whether Wes realized it or not, he looked up to his boss. And it appeared Coop was equally fond of him. Her heart swelled with gratitude. Wesley needed a positive male influence in his life.
Heaven knew their father had fallen down on the job.
The phone rang and Carlotta dived for it. “Hello?”
“Yeah … is Wesley there?”
Carlotta pursed her mouth, recognizing the guttural voice of a person who’d lost more than a few brain cells. “He’s not here, Chance. Didn’t you get any of the messages I left for you, asking if you’d seen him?”
“No.”
She touched her forehead. “No, you didn’t get the messages, or no, you haven’t seen him?”
“I ain’t seen him since the day before yesterday.”
She exhaled. “Do you know where he could be?”
“Uh … no.”
“With his girlfriend maybe?”
“Girlfriend?”
“Come on, Chance, he’s been coming home smelling like women’s perfume. Unless you’ve suddenly started wearing Chanel No. 5, he’s been spending time with someone else.”
“I would not know anything about that,” Chance said woodenly.
Carlotta wanted to scream. “Chance, this is serious. He could be in trouble.”
“Don’t worry, my boy can take care of himself.”
She gritted her teeth at the implication that Wesley was part of Chance’s “posse.” “If you see him, will you tell him to call me as soon as possible?”
“Sure thing,” Chance said, then disconnected the call.
Carlotta sighed. “His friend Chance Hollander hasn’t seen him.”
“What’s this about a girlfriend?” Coop asked.
“I thought you might know.”
“I know he’s got a thing for his probation officer.”
“But she has a boyfriend—remember, we met him at the Elton John concert.”
Coop gave her an amused smile. “Some women have more than one guy on the line.”
A flush climbed her face. Coop and Wesley had walked in on her and Jack Terry kissing, and there had been no mistletoe—or even December—in sight. She didn’t know if Wesley had told Coop that Jack had spent at least one night in her bedroom, but Coop probably suspected as much. Coop had also met Peter and was aware of their history. All of which would have to be sorted out at another time…. At the moment she couldn’t think past Wesley being gone.
Luckily, Hannah arrived with three cups of coffee, and a box of sweet rolls left over from one of her catering gigs the previous day. Carlotta took the food gratefully, her stomach rumbling from hunger.
“Wesley has to come back,” Hannah said dryly. “Or you’ll starve.”
Carlotta stuck out her tongue, but she appreciated her friend’s attempt at humor. And it was true. Wesley did all the cooking, and had done so for years. He was pretty good, too, darn his infuriating, scrawny little ass. Her eyes watered.
“Hey,” Coop said quietly, putting his large hand over hers. “Wesley is a smart kid. If he’s in trouble, he’ll figure out something.”
Carlotta
