"Charm bracelet mania leads to murder"
Reviewed by Denise Powers
Posted July 30, 2009
Romance Suspense
Carlotta Wren is back at work as a salesclerk at a posh
chain store, trying to get her life back in order after
several calamities. Not the least of which is the broken arm
she received when a coworker tried to kill her. Her first
day back coincides with a big event—superstar Olympic
athlete Eva McCoy is there to sign autographs and promote
her line of charm bracelets that's taking the nation by
fire. When someone steals Eva's personal charm bracelet
right from Eva's wrist, Carlotta manages to get in the
middle of the action and covered in cake and icing for her
pains. As Carlotta tries to help the police solve the crime, she's
also dealing with the three men who desire her and coping
with her unusual family situation. Her parents disappeared
ten years ago when her father was accused of embezzling.
Since then Carlotta has put her college plans on hold and
raised her younger brother. For such a smart young man
Wesley keeps making really bad personal choices. Like
hacking into the courthouse computers, gambling and abusing
prescription drugs. Who stole Eva's bracelet and why? Will Carlotta be able to
choose between the three men? What happened to Carlotta's
parents after they fled? Was her father framed or not? Will
Wesley be sent to jail? Just who is the serial killer
stalking Atlanta? Someone wants Carlotta dead and she may be
a victim this time. Ms. Bond's 4 BODIES AND A FUNERAL is nonstop action from the
first page. This review barely scratches the surface of the
complex plot. The Body Movers series definitely should be
read in order due to numerous spoilers about earlier books.
Plus there's a large cast of characters and not many of the
plot threads are resolved by the end of the book. Readers
expecting a resolution of all these issues will be
disappointed. They won't all be concluded until the end of
book six at the earliest. I recommend this book to readers
who are willing to wait for everything to be wrapped up.
SUMMARY
Ever had one of those days? A surprise visit from
her father—who's on the run from the law—has given Carlotta
Wren a lot to think about. Should she join her former
fiancé, Peter, in proving her father is innocent? If she
does, are her body-moving days over?
And then… A close friend's behavior begins to spin out of control… The cops turn up the heat on her father's case… Carlotta discovers that her brother Wesley's gambling debts
are child's play compared to his new vice… And the Charmed Killer, a serial murderer, unleashes his
wrath on Atlanta. Now the bodies are piling up—and Carlotta's father is the
number one suspect!
ExcerptStill reeling from a visit from her fugitive father,
Carlotta Wren is wrestling with her decision to cozy up to
her former fiancé Peter (the best person to help prove her
father’s innocence), and how she’s going to conceal her
body-moving hobby from her new boyfriend.And then a close friend’s behavior begins to spin out of
control… And then Detective Jack Terry turns up the heat on her
father’s case… And then Carlotta discovers her brother Wesley’s gambling
debts are child’s play compared to his new vice… And then a serial killer with a bizarre signature unleashes
his wrath on Atlanta. No one is safe, and everyone is a
suspect—including Carlotta’s long-lost father!
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Excerpt from 4 Bodies and a Funeral Carlotta Wren skidded onto the sales floor of the Neiman
Marcus at Lenox Square in Atlanta soaked in a flop sweat.
Late on her first day back—minus ten points. “Welcome back.” Carlotta turned and manufactured a smile for Lindy Russell,
her boss, who was standing with arms crossed. “Thank you.
It’s good to be back.” Lindy pursed her mouth. “Too bad you couldn’t make this
morning’s staff meeting.” Carlotta’s smile wavered, but she massaged the flexible
cast on her arm. “Sorry. This morning was the first time
I’d driven in a while, and my car battery was dead.” And
the MARTA trains were being single-tracked for
construction. Still, she decided not to dwell on
transportation challenges since her recent medical leave
had come on the heels of a two-week suspension to “get her
personal issues worked out.” Personal issues such as her brother’s gambling debts, her
ruined credit, the fact that her parents were long-lost
fugitives, and that she’d been entangled in a couple of
murders as a byproduct of her part-time hobby as a body
mover for the morgue. “Things happen,” Lindy conceded. “Is your arm healing
well?” Carlotta flexed the fingers of the arm that had been broken
when a killer had pushed her over the balcony of the Fox
Theater where she’d dangled with her skirt around her waist
for all the attendees of an Elton John concert to
see. “Almost as good as new.” In truth, though, at the
moment it was aching like a tooth. Sympathy crossed Lindy’s face. “I can’t tell you how sorry
I am about Michael.” Michael Lane, a.k.a. the person who’d pushed her over the
balcony, Carlotta’s former coworker and friend who had
turned out to have some very dark secrets. “Me, too,” Carlotta murmured, wishing her heart could be
splinted like her arm had been. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from him?” She shook her head. “I was told he’s in the psych ward at
Northside Hospital until he’s deemed competent to stand
trial.” “So terrible.” Lindy sighed and checked a clipboard she
held. “Well, life goes on, doesn’t it?” Carlotta blinked. It was true, but still… “I’m glad you could come back in time for the Eva McCoy
appearance.” Lindy swept her arm toward the small dais
that had been erected on the sales floor with several rows
of cordoned-off chairs for seating. Olympian Eva McCoy’s return to her hometown had been hyped
on all the media outlets for weeks. “That’s today?” Lindy arched an eyebrow. Carlotta backpedaled. “I mean…that’s today.” “Since you missed the staff meeting, here’s the info.”
Lindy handed over a memo. “It’s going to be a mob, so I’ll
need all my best employees on the floor.” Pleasure suffused Carlotta’s chest—her history of being a
consistent top salesperson still meant something. “And here’s one now,” Lindy said, looking past Carlotta’s
shoulder. Carlotta turned and swallowed a curse to see
Patricia Alexander, a.k.a. Stepford Salesclerk, complete
with rounded-collar suit, helmet hair, and strand of
pearls, walking toward them. The blonde flashed a waxy smile. “I’d heard you were
coming back, Carlotta, but when I didn’t see you at the
morning staff meeting, I assumed that something else had
happened. You’re so…accident prone.” Carlotta’s mouth tightened. “I’ll let you two catch up for a couple of minutes before
the crowd arrives,” Lindy said, and handed them each a roll
of tickets to be passed out to customers who wanted to meet
the guest of honor. Then she gave Carlotta a pointed
look. “I tend to agree with Patricia. There’s going to be
a lot of security on hand today, so try not to do anything
that might draw extra attention.” Lindy walked off,
leaving Carlotta properly chastised—in front of her nemesis. “Ouch,” Patricia chirped. Carlotta was able to hold her tongue because she knew she
deserved far worse from her boss than a reprimand for all
her…mishaps. Determined to get along with Lindy’s new pet
employee, she turned toward Patricia. “I suppose you took
Michael’s place in shoes?” “Yes. It’s such a shame, isn’t it, that he turned out to
be totally insane?” Carlotta bit her tongue. “So, I’ll bet you’re happy to be back to work,” Patricia
offered. “You were probably bored to death doing nothing
all day.” “I didn’t exactly do nothing,” Carlotta muttered, although
she couldn’t exactly tell Patricia about the road trip for
a VIP body pickup, the unexpected appearance of her father,
and the capture of a murderer while she’d
been “incapacitated” on leave with a broken arm. Instead
she pasted on a smile. “But I am happy to be back in my
element.” Patricia made rueful noises in her throat. “I hope you had
time to rest, you poor thing. The heartbreak that you’ve
been through the past decade—you must be close to the brink
of insanity yourself.” Carlotta’s hands fisted. Patricia moved in the Buckhead
social circles, knew the sordid Wren family history—that
ten years ago Carlotta’s father had been accused of
stealing from his investment clients and had skipped town
rather than face a trial, with her mother in tow,
abandoning her and her younger brother to fend for
themselves. At the thought of her brother Wesley, she stole a glance at
her watch. He should be arriving at the Fulton County
D.A.’s office right about now, hopefully working out a plea
agreement in return for testifying against one of his loan
sharks in return for reduced charges for aiding in the
attempted theft of a body. His attorney Liz was hopeful
that Wesley would get off with having his community service
sentence from a prior computer hacking charge extended, but
Carlotta was worried that even Liz Fuck-Me Fischer wouldn’t
be able to parlay enough sexual favors to make it happen.
Carlotta had wanted to go with Wesley today, but he’d
refused, saying it was something he needed to take care of
himself. It might have been the moment she’d been most
proud of him. Except for the fact that he could be ensconced in jail
before her shift ended. What would she do for bail money? And what would she do if
Wesley didn’t get out this time? Patricia waved her hand in front of Carlotta’s face. “Did
I lose you?” “No,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “And I’m coping
with everything just fine.” Patricia leaned in. “If you need something to take the
edge off, I can spot you some anti-anxiety meds.” “No, thank you,” Carlotta said through gritted teeth,
although beneath the cast her arm was pinging with pain.
Knowing it would really hurt, though, if she slugged the
woman, she changed the subject. “Looks like we’re going to
have a big crowd today for Eva McCoy.” “Yeah, speaking of crazy—the woman wins a marathon after a
bout of food poisoning, gives all the credit to a lucky
charm bracelet, and suddenly charm bracelets are selling
like mad.” Patricia shook her head, apparently bemused
with the trend. Carlotta smirked—her coworker was only frustrated because
she wasn’t working in jewelry, earning commissions on the
trinkets that Eva would be promoting. Customers were already gathering in the area of the dais
where posters featured the smiling, fit Olympian with a
gold medal around her neck and an Eva Lucky Charms Bracelet
on her slender wrist. Carlotta and Patricia positioned themselves in front of the
Get Your Tickets to Meet Eva McCoy Here sign and began
handing out tickets and directing early comers where to sit
or stand. “So,” Patricia asked without making eye contact, “how are
you and Peter Ashford?” Choosing her words carefully, Carlotta said, “Peter and I
are old friends.” “So I’ve heard. Tracey Tully Lowenstein belongs to my
club. She said that you and Peter used to be quite the
item before…your family issues.” “That was a long time ago,” Carlotta murmured. “Tracey said that you two have picked up where you left
off.” “Tracey talks too much,” Carlotta said pointedly. “I think it’s nice that you and Peter have each other,”
Patricia said. “With his wife having been murdered and all
that you’ve gone through.” The blonde winced. “Wait a
minute—weren’t you a suspect in her murder? Gee, that has
to be a little awkward.” “Not at all,” Carlotta said pleasantly. Patricia sniffed and turned her back. Carlotta shot lasers into the woman’s bony shoulder
blades. In truth, Carlotta was still wrestling with her
recent decision to cozy up to her former fiancé. When her
father had walked up to her unannounced and in disguise at
a rest area a few weeks ago in Florida, he’d told her to
stay close to Peter, that since Peter worked for Mashburn &
Tully Investments where her father had once worked, he was
in the best position to help prove Randolph Wren’s
innocence. Until that moment, Carlotta would have sworn
that if her long-lost father had ever approached her, she
would slap him, kick his shins, spit in his face, call the
police. Instead she’d been gelatinous and cooperative and…
hopeful. The fact that he made her want to believe that he’d been
framed for his white collar crime made her feel used all
over again. Her father was using her, and she was using Peter. Since
his wife’s untimely death, Peter had made no secret of the
fact that he wanted them to get back together. He’d even
recovered the Cartier engagement ring that she’d pawned and
he’d had a diamond added on either side of the original
solitaire. He was holding it for her, in hopes that she
would agree to pick up where they’d left off years ago,
just as if he hadn’t ripped out her heart and turned his
back on her when she needed him most. But he was trying to make amends, she conceded. He’d
helped Wesley out of some bad scrapes and continued to be
attentive to her. A couple of weeks ago, though, after
she’d returned from Florida, his patience had worn thin—
he’d been offered a position in New York and had been going
to take it unless she could give him hope that they had a
future and made room for him in her life. She couldn’t
risk him leaving on the chance that her father might call
or put in another appearance soon, in need of Peter’s
inside access. So she’d told Peter to stay and had
committed to making their relationship a priority. Normally, being on the receiving end of attention from a
handsome, rich man wouldn’t pose a problem, but there were…
extenuating circumstances. Namely, two other men bouncing
around in her head and in her heart. “I wondered if I’d see you here.” At the sound of a familiar rumbling voice, her pulse
spiked. She turned around to see one of the two men,
Detective Jack Terry, standing there with a sardonic smile
on his ruggedly handsome face, as if she’d conjured him
up. Her entire body smiled. “Hi, Jack.” “Back to work, huh?” She nodded. “First day.” “Are you okay? You look flushed.” She put a hand to her warm cheek. “Hectic morning. What
are you doing here?” “Extra security for Eva McCoy, a favor for the mayor.” Carlotta frowned. “What does the city have to do with her
appearance?” “Apparently her uncle is a state senator, they want APD on
the scene to make everyone feel good. They thought a
uniform would send the wrong signal, so—” He
shrugged. “Here I am.” She surveyed his gray suit and gave his red tie a
tug. “You look good.” “I keep telling him that red is his color.” At the sound of a purring voice, Carlotta turned her head.
A doe-eyed, exotic beauty in a dark suit stepped into
Jack’s personal space. Jack gave the woman a proprietary smile. “Carlotta, I
don’t think you’ve met my new partner, Detective Maria
Marquez. Maria, this is Carlotta Wren, a friend of mine.” Carlotta tried not to react. Friends—is that what she and
Jack were?
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