Mayan Gods in the Yucatan (Peyton Brooks, FBI Book 5)

by M. L. Hamilton

  “What happens once the packages go in back?”

  “We have a kid, college student over at State, who delivers all the mail after 6:00PM.”

  “Is that the same Express Shipping courier who delivers here everyday?”

  “Yeah, unless he’s sick or on vacation, but he’s delivered here since I started working here.”

  “I need that part of the video sent to Radar.”

  Mike nodded. “I’ll get right on it.” He frowned, creating lines in his forehead. “What’s going on, Peyton? Was something wrong with the contents of the box?”

  “You might say that, but I can’t tell you what.” She rose to her feet. “Get that video to Radar now, please.”

  “On it.”

  She squeezed past him and he let her go, holding up the counter for her, but once she was on the other side, he placed a hand on the counter to stop her. “Peyton?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. He was a nice guy. She might have been interested in him if Marco hadn’t come along, but once Marco had entered her life, all other men had paled by comparison. It was hopeless. Marco was the only man for her.

  “I’m serious about PTSD. I’m not blaming the people who have it, but those that love them, those that are close to them, sometimes they get hurt.”

  She faced him, sighing. “Marco can handle it. He’s been handling it for quite a while now.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  She moved closer to the counter, dropping her voice. “I’m the one with PTSD, Mike, and you know it. You were there when I freaked out in the bar that night. I’m the one who wakes up swinging, not Marco. He’s the one that calms me down again. This topic is a nonstarter, so can we drop it? Because if we can’t, if you keep pursuing it, then we can’t be friends and I would hate that.”

  He straightened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We’re friends. I won’t say anymore.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to be the one to calm you down at night.”

  She gave him a shake of the head; still she couldn’t help but laugh. He smiled and waved as she walked away again.

  Once she was back in her office, she pulled out her cell phone. She needed to tell Maria and Abe and Jake that she was probably leaving town again, then she had to find a way to tell Marco – dinner and sexy lingerie – best way to avoid an argument, she’d discovered.

  She called Jake first, just because Bambi’s questions had made her a little concerned about him. He picked up. “What’s up, Mighty Mouse?”

  “Hey, Jake, how are you?”

  “I just saw you on Saturday, so I’ve been fine in the two days since then.”

  “Well, I just wanted to call because I have a feeling I might be leaving town for a bit.”

  “Another case already?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you want me to take care of Adonis.” He gave a heavy sigh. “God, I hate it when you’re out of town. He gets so damn grumpy.”

  “No, he can take care of himself, Jake. He’s driving again and he’s figured out how to navigate on the crutches, but it wouldn’t hurt you to look in on him once in a while and make sure he’s all right.”

  “Fine. Anything else?”

  “I wondered if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight.”

  He hesitated and that was weird for Jake. He usually jumped at the chance to have dinner at her house. “I think I’ll just go home and watch the game, Mighty Mouse. We can go to lunch or something before you go.”

  She frowned, staring at the display. “What’s with all the game watching, Jake? Is it the Super Bowl or something?”

  “What?”

  “All these games. Are you watching the Super Bowl? Are the Giants in the Super Bowl?”

  He sighed. “World Series, Mighty Mouse. It’s the World Series and no, the season just started.”

  “Then why don’t you want to come over?”

  “I just wanna relax. With my dog. That’s all. Please don’t go spinning it into something more than it is. Sometimes a guy just wants to relax.”

  Peyton blew out air. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Sure thing, sugarpop.”

  Now that sounded more like her Jake. “Bye, Jakey Poo.”

  “Bye.”

  She called Maria next. “I need to go shopping for lingerie. Can you get off work now?”

  “Lingerie?” asked Maria, then she made a disgruntled noise. “You have a case!”

  “Not yet.”

  “But you think you’re getting one, don’t you?”

  “I might be.”

  “Does my wedding not mean a damn thing to you?”

  “I did the bachelorette party…”

  “Abe did that.”

  Fair enough. “Maybe I can help Marta do the shower.”

  “From where? Azerbaijan?”

  “Azerbaijan? What?”

  “Is that where you’re going? Do you know I get married in less than a month, Brooks? Do you know that?”

  “I know, Maria.”

  “But you don’t care.”

  “I do care, but I have to work. I promise I will be at your wedding, even if I have to fly in from Azerbaijan.”

  “Fine. Lingerie, huh?”

  “Yeah, you like shopping for that.”

  “You’re still giving him the milk for free, though.”

  Peyton sighed. “Maria, this isn’t the 1950’s. Women can like sex as much as men.”

  “Fine. Don’t listen to me. Who am I to tell you how you’re screwing up your life? Go on, just keep sleeping with him without a commitment and then when he takes off to start a family with Betty Homemaker across the street, don’t be surprised.”

  “Betty Homemaker moved. Suzie Stereotypical Gender-roles is living there now.”

  Maria snorted out a laugh, despite herself. “You’re impossible, Brooks, you know that? That’s why we make such kickass best friends.”

  “Sure,” said Peyton, letting out a relieved sigh. “So about the lingerie…”

  “Come pick me up. If I leave it to you, you’ll get boxer shorts and a baseball jersey.”

  Peyton laughed. “Thank you, Maria,” she said.

  “Whatever,” came the answer, then the call disconnected.

  CHAPTER 12

  Adrian leaned on the doorjamb of Rosa’s office. “Rosa, I need to talk to you.”

  “Give me a minute, Adrian,” she said. “I just want to check on the arrangements for the Ghost Squad. They’re heading out to Cancun tomorrow. As soon as I finish, I’ll drive you to the airport.” She picked up the phone receiver to call Margaret.

  “Actually, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  Rosa paused and looked up at him. “What?”

  “I canceled my flight.”

  “You did what?”

  “I canceled my flight.”

  She set the phone in the cradle. She’d spent most of the night on the phone to Kazander Bass and Chief Inspector Hanson. The three of them had finally agreed it was best for her squad to meet Bass in Cancun, rather than have him come to San Francisco. That way they could hit the ground running as soon as the Ghost Squad arrived. Time was the enemy in finding Joe Miller’s killer, especially in a foreign country with a different legal system.

  She realized she’d missed out on spending Adrian’s last night focusing on their relationship, but Joe Miller’s death was personal. Rosa felt like she’d lost a family member and she just couldn’t get her head around it. When she woke up this morning, for a glorious moment, she’d believe it was all a nightmare.

  “What do you mean you canceled your flight?”

  “I think you need to go to Mexico with your team.”

  She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. She hadn’t gotten much sleep and most of it was broken. She didn’t have emotional outbursts very often, she thought they were a weakness, but yesterday she’d lost her composure. She was a little embarras
sed by it, especially the way she’d been just after finding Joe’s heart, but she consoled herself with believing only Adrian, Brooks, and Darren had been witness to her weakness. Today, although she was a little muddle-headed, she felt in control, her emotions carefully tamped down again. Until Adrian said he’d canceled his flight. She couldn’t believe how badly she wanted him to stay, how badly she didn’t want to take him to the airport.

  “Hold on a minute. Did you really cancel your flight?”

  “I did.”

  “Did I hear you say you think I should go to Mexico with the Ghost Squad?”

  He took a deep breath. “You did. I think you need to work this case yourself.”

  “I’m SAC here, Adrian. I can’t just leave the rest of the teams without supervision.”

  Adrian nodded. “I know, which is why I pulled in some markers and asked to be allowed to stay as your temporary replacement. I just received permission an hour ago and canceled my flight.”

  “What about your work in Quantico? The training sessions?”

  “They’ll do them without me, or they’ll wait until I get back. It’s self-defense training, Rosa. Anyone can do it.”

  She sat down heavily in her chair, staring at him. “You think I should go to Mexico?”

  “Yes. Joe was your partner. You owe it to him to find his killer.”

  A flush of emotion swept through her and she felt her eyes filling with tears. She blinked them away. She hated anyone who cried, but having Adrian tell her she ought to go on a case meant the world to her. It meant he trusted her skill as an investigator and he trusted her to take care of herself.

  “You hate office work,” she said in bewilderment.

  He came forward and took a seat across from her. “So?”

  “You’re gonna fill in as SAC.”

  “Yep. I’m qualified. I’ve been a SAC before.”

  “I know, but…”

  “But what?”

  “You hated it.” And he had. They’d taken him out of the field and moved him into the SAC position in Baltimore. He’d done it for about four years before he decided he hated supervising people. When the training position opened at Quantico, he’d jumped at it, even though it meant a drop in pay.

  “Yeah, but it won’t be forever. Just until you get this case solved and get back here.”

  She leaned back in her chair, watching him. “The Ghost Squad is gonna hate it if I go.”

  “I don’t think that’s their choice,” he said.

  She continued to study him. She liked his square jaw and slightly crooked nose. His nose had been broken a few times in training. A lock of his dark brown hair fell over his forehead and she wanted to brush it away. Last night, he’d made her dinner, then he’d just sat with her feet in his lap, listening to her talk about her years with Joe, while she drank wine and alternated between crying and laughing. She’d never done that with another man. She’d never let him see her so vulnerable. She consoled herself with saying the wine had contributed to the weepy moments, but she knew it was mostly Adrian Tréjo . He made her feel safe.

  “I can provide a service to you and I’ve been given permission to do it, so let me help you.”

  “Ooh, Brooks is really going to hate me going with them.”

  “Buttons will be fine. She’s tough.” He leaned forward. “Look, you hardly slept at all last night, you’ve barely eaten. Like you said, Joe Miller was family. You gotta be part of this investigation, Rosa, and I can help you get that.”

  She motioned between them. “What do we call this thing we have between us?”

  “A hell of a lot of fun.”

  She laughed. “Seriously, Adrian, what, exactly, are we doing? You’re missing work because of me.”

  He braced his arms on his thighs and gave her a serious look. “Rosa, we’re whatever you want us to be. I’m okay without a label, but I’m also fine with one. I know you’re gun shy, so I’m not gonna push, but I know that last night I would have given anything to take away your pain and right now, my heart is pounding like a bitch, hoping you take me up on my offer. I wouldn’t be any good to you in Mexico, but here, here I can do some good.”

  She smiled, taking such pleasure in just looking at him. “Okay, I’m gonna do it.”

  “Good,” he said, smiling back at her.

  “I’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

  “Tequila,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I was thinking of a jellyfish.”

  He made a face and she found herself laughing again.

  * * *

  Stan waited for Marco on the other side of the counter when he entered the precinct. He held the half-door open for him as Marco crutched through to the other side.

  “Stan, how are you this morning?” Marco noted that Lee wasn’t at his desk.

  “Fine, Captain, how are you?” He pushed his thick glasses up on his nose. “How was physical therapy?”

  “It’s good to be back in the water and they’re letting me start on upper body weights again,” he said, crutching toward his office.

  Stan trailed him. “Yeah, I’ve been lifting weights myself. I benched 90lbs. the other day.”

  Marco paused, glancing up at him, then he lowered himself into his chair. “90lbs. That’s good, Stan. You’re on your way.”

  Stan beamed a smile at him as he took a seat and Marco tried to keep his amusement hidden. “So, did you find anything in Murphy’s cloud accounts?”

  “No photos of the mayor. A few photos of his roommate, Kurt Foster, and a lot of what I assume are his family. He was pretty careful. I went back over all the entries on the dating sites and he never revealed who he was meeting. It was always Sugar Bear and Beta Wolf.”

  “Beta Wolf?”

  “That was Murphy’s name. On some of these sites you don’t want to use your legal name. Especially the hook-up sites. It’s best to remain anonymous.”

  Marco gave Stan a pointed look. “How do you know that, Stan?”

  “I’m pretty well versed in all things internet, Captain.”

  Marco wasn’t sure. He sure hoped Stan wasn’t resorting to hooking up with people on these sketchy dating sites. Stan deserved a real relationship, someone who would appreciate him for the genius he was. Of course, that made Marco think of Peyton. Stan had had a crush on Peyton for years and he’d been unhappy when Peyton and Marco had started their relationship. Thinking of Peyton made him remember the previous night – how she’d seduced him so he wouldn’t be upset that she was leaving again. As if he could stay angry at her. He knew he was completely wrapped around her finger.

  “Captain?”

  Marco blinked and realized he’d almost forgotten Stan was there. “Sorry, lost in thought.”

  Stan gave a slow nod.

  Another thought occurred to him. “Hold on. Can you monitor who Sugar Bear contacts?”

  “Not without a warrant and then I think the odds of getting one are slim.”

  Holmes poked his head inside Marco’s office. “We got the pocket watch and turned it over to Ryder to look for fingerprints, Captain.”

  “Good. Tell Ryder to also report to me if he finds anything.”

  “Sure,” he said, moving back out.

  “Drew?”

  Holmes appeared again. “What’s up?”

  “I was just asking Stan if we can monitor Sugar Bear’s contacts on the dating website where he met Murphy? He thinks it’ll be difficult to get a warrant.”

  “He’s probably right, Captain. This is the mayor we’re talking about.”

  Marco blew out air. “Then I have a plan B.”

  Holmes moved forward and took a seat next to Stan. They both looked at him intently.

  “When Adams and I went to the mayor’s fundraiser, he pulled me aside and asked me to start a task force to increase communication between the neighborhoods and the police.”

  Holmes frowned. “What do you mean, a task force?”

  “He has an idea that if the police ha
d more personal connection with the neighborhoods, people might be more willing to report crimes or act as witnesses.”

  “Okay. Why you?”

  “I’m not sure, but we were supposed to connect and discuss it. I’m thinking of calling him to set something up. It might be a way to get on the inside where I can ask him some questions about Murphy without him triggering a gag order. And it serves another purpose. Cho and Simons aren’t getting any traction on their case.”

  “The Jamaad Jones’ murder?” asked Stan.

  “Right. They’re pretty sure people saw who shot the boy, but no one will come forward. I thought we might do a neighborhood event, a barbecue or something, and put up an information booth at the event.”

  “When would we do that?” asked Holmes.

  “What if we could pull it off this weekend? Maybe we’d even be able to get some of the other precincts involved and the mayor might come out. Jamaad Jones’ mother wants to help us. Having her there might bring witnesses out.”

  Stan and Holmes nodded, thinking. “Will you contact the mayor today?” asked Stan.

  Marco nodded. “I think the faster we get on this the better.”

  “I’ll mention it to Tag,” offered Holmes.

  “Lee and I can get some literature pulled together, and stickers for the kids. We’ve got some stuff like that lying about,” said Stan. “Maybe some fliers with hotline numbers on it for reporting crime.”

  “Good,” said Marco.

  “Do you think the mayor would cough down some money to buy food and drinks?” asked Holmes.

  “I’ll ask him.”

  Holmes considered that. “It seems weird to ask a murder suspect for help finding another murder suspect.”

  “These are the times that try men’s souls,” muttered Stan, staring off into the distance.

  “Shakespeare?” asked Holmes.

  “Thomas Paine,” said Stan.

  Marco didn’t answer. His thoughts had turned to Peyton again and the fact that she was leaving the next day for Mexico to hunt down a murderer who had ripped out a man’s heart. While that gave him concern, what worried him most of all was that he wouldn’t be there to back her up once again.