Murder on Russian Hill (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 3)

by M. L. Hamilton

  He lifted a hand and covered his mouth, his eyes fixated on the screen.

  “Joshua?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Play it again,” said Staddler.

  Peyton rewound the video. She had the exact spot engrained in her memory as she hit play. The video ran again, but beyond a narrowing of his eyes, Joshua didn’t show any recognition. Peyton stopped it.

  “Do you remember that, Joshua?” said the psychiatrist.

  “None of it.” He turned his hand over and looked at the scabs on his knuckles. “How can I not remember doing that?”

  Peyton chewed her lower lip, but didn’t answer. She hated seeing the confusion on his face.

  “Play it again,” said Staddler.

  Peyton released the mouse. “Just what do you think that will do?” She tried not to sound aggravated, but this woman was pissing her off. What the hell kind of therapy was this?

  “Just play it. Sometimes the mind needs to see something multiple times before it makes a connection.”

  “And sometimes the mind just makes shit up when there are no connections to make,” Peyton snapped.

  “Play it again, Inspector Brooks.”

  Peyton slid the bar back to the original spot and let the video run. Halfway through a loud voice filtered through the doorway from the lobby. Both Ravensong and Peyton looked back.

  “James,” said Ravensong.

  Peyton recognized that voice.

  “Ignore that. Play the video again, Inspector Brooks.”

  Peyton sighed. There was no use arguing with this woman, but she was beginning to wonder if Joshua was the one who needed a psychiatrist. She grabbed the mouse and drew the bar back on the video, but James’ voice cut into the room, demanding to see his brother.

  Peyton released the mouse and shifted in her chair. “He’s going to make me arrest him yet,” she told Joshua.

  Joshua gave her an anxious smile.

  “The video, Inspector Brooks,” demanded Staddler.

  Peyton gritted her teeth against her irritation and punched play, but she’d taken the tape too far back and the elevator was empty.

  “That’s too far back.”

  “I know. Give me a second.” She reached for the mouse and started to move the bar, but the elevator door opened and a tall, blond man stepped in. Peyton went still, staring at the screen.

  “Inspector Brooks, this is too far back.”

  “Quiet,” Peyton snapped. Her eyes shifted to the time stamp in the upper corner. 9:03AM.

  The man wore a finely tailored business suit, his blond hair was parted on the side and feathered back from his brow in perfect waves, and when he looked up into the camera, Peyton caught her breath. The cleft in his chin was visible.

  He didn’t pace as Joshua had done, but he fidgeted with the lines of his jacket and his watch, glancing up at the numbers above the door repeatedly. When the door to the elevator opened, Peyton stopped the video and leaned forward, squinting at the green number displayed in the mirror on the back wall of the elevator.

  He got off on the eighth floor.

  Peyton backed the video up until she caught him staring into the camera, then she shifted to look at Joshua. “Do you recognize this man?”

  He squinted at the screen. “He seems familiar.” Then recognition dawned. “O’Shannahan, right?”

  Peyton gave a grim smile. “Right. The Reverend Jedediah O’Shannahan.” She slumped back in her chair. “The preacher man.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “Okay, you can put your shirt back on.”

  Joshua reached for the t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

  The doctor went to the sink and washed his hands. “Well, I can’t find anything wrong with his back. I can send him for some physical therapy, but I don’t even feel tense muscles and there doesn’t appear to be a herniated disc.”

  Phil pushed himself away from the door and moved closer to the doctor. “Physical therapy is great and all, but he’s in so much pain, he won’t be able to perform.”

  Joshua climbed off the exam table and slipped his feet into his sneakers as he watched the exchange. The doctor gave Joshua a pointed look, then faced Phil. “I didn’t get the indication he was in pain when I examined him.”

  “I can assure you it’s quite severe.” Phil pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it, taking out a number of bills.

  Joshua tried to see the denomination as he pulled on his jacket. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected to happen when he agreed to this. He’d planned to ask the doctor for help, but Phil had insisted on coming in with him. He didn’t really want to admit his pill usage in front of Blazes manager. He was afraid it would get back to James somehow.

  “I honestly can’t recommend medication without some sort of indication of pain. I didn’t find anything.”

  Phil held out a number of bills. “The kid can hardly walk, he’s so stiff. And he barely made it through the concert last night.”

  The doctor’s eyes shifted from the bills to Joshua and back again. “I could lose my medical license for this. What exactly are you suggesting I give him?”

  “Oxycodone.”

  “Oxycodone? Do you know how addictive that is?”

  “It’s just to help him for a little while. Just until we get these shows finished.”

  “I could lose my medical license.”

  “For helping a kid in pain? How?” He waved the money. “We just need to get through the rest of the shows, then he’ll be able to rest up and get that physical therapy. We just need something to tide him over.”

  The doctor sighed heavily and reached for the bills. “Oxycodone is bad stuff to mess with. He’s liable to overdose if he isn’t careful.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  The doctor looked at Joshua. “It’s highly addictive. You keep taking it and you won’t be able to stop.”

  “We’ll stop. We’ve got a break coming up soon,” said Phil.

  The doctor sighed again and went to the cabinet against the wall, pulling open a drawer. He took out a prescription pad and began writing. “Where do you want the prescription filled?” he asked, pocketing the money.

  “The pharmacy on Vine.”

  The doctor tore the paper from the pad, holding it out to Joshua. When Joshua tried to take it, he held on and met Joshua’s gaze. “I’m not kidding about addiction. You’d better be damn careful.”

  When he released the paper, Joshua folded it and put it in his pocket, then he backed toward the door. The doctor followed him with worried eyes until he was on the other side. Phil was right on his heels and he threw his arm around Joshua’s shoulder, pulling him against his side.

  “I told you I’d take care of you,” he said.

  Joshua wanted to push him away, but he didn’t. If this was taking care of him, it felt an awful lot like being used.

  * * *

  “They told me my brother was here and I want to see him.”

  Peyton threw back her chair and went to the door, pulling it open. James was standing on the other side of the counter, shouting at Maria. Smith had come to help her and just as Peyton stepped out, Captain Defino’s door opened.

  “Officer Connor,” said the captain, then she faltered when she saw who was standing behind him.

  Peyton walked over to Maria’s desk, transfixed. Elliot Evans, the guitarist from Avalanche, was standing in their lobby. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d played air guitar with him, while listening to Joshua’s earthy vocals.

  “That’s…”

  “I know,” breathed Maria.

  Captain Defino gave herself a visible shake, then she moved toward the counter. “Mr. Evans, it is a pleasure to have you in our precinct.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, ducking his curly brown head.

  Joshua appeared in the doorway and James immediately focused on him. Crossing to the half-door, Joshua started to open it, but before he’d even gotten to the ot
her side, James had him in a bear hug.

  Joshua hugged him in return, then Elliot was there, pulling him into his embrace. The captain gave Peyton and Maria a wide-eyed stare when Ravensong appeared, her mouth dropping open.

  “I didn’t know he was here,” she breathed.

  Peyton offered her an apologetic smile.

  Smith turned around and gave the three women an aggravated look. “I guess I’ll go back to my desk.”

  They didn’t even acknowledge his departure.

  “Why won’t you let me see you?” said James, holding on to Joshua by the arms.

  “James, I was arrested for murder. I don’t want any of you around me right now.”

  “That’s stupid. We’re your family. Mom and Dad are worried sick.”

  “I know, but I can’t take a chance on anything.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it here.” He looked around. “Please.”

  “Okay, but I want to come to the hospital and talk to you. All right? And Mom needs to see you too, Josh.”

  “Okay, bring her, but just her. I don’t want Tiffany or Jennifer seeing me there.”

  “Done.”

  Elliot pulled him close again and said something in his ear that Peyton couldn’t hear. She couldn’t believe Elliot Evans was in her precinct. He and Ravensong had been the staple of her teen years. She’d always been smitten with Ravensong, but Elliot Evans was a close second in her heart.

  Ravensong hugged his friend in return, then motioned Peyton forward. “Elliot, I’d like you to meet Inspector Peyton Brooks, the best damn detective in San Francisco.”

  Peyton felt her cheeks heat with pleasure and she came to the counter to shake Elliot’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Inspector,” he said.

  “The pleasure is mine,” she answered, beaming at him. Glancing over her shoulder, she beckoned the captain over. “Joshua, this is Captain Defino. I don’t believe the two of you have met.”

  The captain gave Peyton a breathless smile as she accepted Ravensong’s hand. “Mr. Ravensong, we finally meet in person.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I wish the circumstances were better.”

  Joshua offered her a grim smile. “So do I, ma’am.”

  “Joshua, we need to get back to the hospital,” said Staddler from the doorway.

  Joshua nodded, but his eyes lifted to Peyton.

  “I’ll contact you tomorrow,” she promised him.

  “Great,” he said, reluctantly turning away.

  As always Peyton wanted to offer him some comfort, but she couldn’t. She watched him leave the precinct flanked by his brother and Elliot. Dr. Staddler paused as she moved to the other side of the counter.

  “I wish the video had been more helpful,” she said, “but I guess that memory is lost for good.”

  Peyton didn’t know how to answer that.

  “How much time does he have before you have to turn this over to the D.A.?”

  Glancing at the captain, Peyton lifted her chin. “That isn’t my decision, Dr. Staddler, but I will inform Joshua when that happens.”

  She looked down and nodded, then she walked stiffly to the door.

  Peyton turned to Defino. “Something happened in there and I need to tell you about it.”

  Defino motioned to her office. “Come in.”

  They walked into the dark interior and Peyton took a seat as the captain went around her desk. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, then Defino chuckled and shook her head. “I can’t believe I had Joshua Ravensong and Elliot Evans in my squad room.”

  Peyton smiled.

  Forcing her features to be serious, Defino folded her hands on her desk. “So tell me what happened in the conference room.”

  Peyton scooted forward in her chair. “When James started shouting, I took the video too far back on accident. I took it past where Ravensong was in the elevator.”

  “And?”

  “Someone else got on at 9:03AM and got off on the eighth floor.”

  “Who?”

  “Jedediah O’Shannahan.”

  Defino’s features grew grim. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I can show you the video myself, Captain.”

  “How do you know he got off on the eighth floor?”

  “The numbers are reflected in the mirror on the back wall.”

  Defino stared down at her desk.

  Peyton waited while she thought, but it wasn’t easy. She hated the captain’s melamine chairs. They didn’t conform to the body and she wasn’t very good at sitting still either. A crystal bowl, with paperclips in it, sat on the edge of the desk. Peyton started to reach for it, but Defino moved it before she could touch.

  Peyton closed her hand into a fist and brought it to rest on her leg.

  “You’re going to tell me you want to go out and question him about this case.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you know the minute you do, I’ll get a call from the mayor.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s going to accuse me of doing this deliberately.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  “You know O’Shannahan is a huge contributor to the mayor’s campaign fund.”

  “Yes, that came up last time we talked to O’Shannahan.”

  “Why can’t we investigate people who aren’t tied to the mayor?”

  “Why can’t the mayor tie himself to people who aren’t corrupt?”

  Defino’s eyes caught Peyton’s. “Point taken.” She fixed her hand under her chin and shook her head. “This is going to be nothing but trouble.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain.”

  “You’re going to have to show me the video.”

  “I will.”

  “Where’s Marco?”

  “He went with Jake to search the evidence bags from Antonio’s accident.”

  “I don’t want you going out to O’Shannahan’s alone.”

  “Okay.”

  “Take a uniform.”

  “I’ll take Smith.”

  “Fine.” She squinted at Peyton. “Tread carefully here, Brooks. I’m willing to go to battle with the mayor again, but I have to know it’s worth doing. He isn’t going to like us questioning O’Shannahan, especially for the benefit of a drug-addicted rock star.”

  “I understand.”

  “You remember how O’Shannahan is? You remember how easily he gets under your skin?”

  “I remember. That is one thing I will never forget, Captain.” Jedediah O’Shannahan was a very powerful man and like most powerful men, he wasn’t opposed to using that power as long as it benefitted him.

  * * *

  Marco pulled on the latex gloves, then bent down and lifted two full bags of garbage onto the table.

  “Jesus Christ,” breathed Jake. “What did that kid use his car for?”

  “Apparently a trashcan.” Marco pushed the bags over on their sides. Wrappers and burger boxes filled the interior. “Let’s get sorting.”

  Jake took a seat across from him as Marco opened the first bag. A stainless steel table spread between them and Marco began inspecting each item, placing it in different piles based on what it was. Jake began doing the same thing.

  “Yeah, this is way more glamorous than being a banker,” he groused.

  Marco smiled, but kept sorting.

  “So, Adonis,” said Jake conversationally. “You ever think of having kids?”

  Marco turned a wrapper over in his hand, searching it. “I will never have kids.”

  “How can you say that? Never’s a long time.”

  “Because I know. I never want kids.” He set the wrapper aside. “You want kids?”

  “I did. I couldn’t imagine anything better than having a baby with Zoë, but that’s gone now.”

  “Maybe you’ll meet someone else.”

  “Maybe.”

  Marco inspected a soda cup, but he knew Billy Mil
ler had said he wrote the license plate numbers on a burger wrapper.

  “So how come you’re so sure you don’t want kids?”

  “Just am.”

  “Maybe you haven’t met the right girl.”

  Marco’s eyes lifted to Jake’s face. “I’ve met her, but I ain’t having kids with her either.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes in question. “Who?”

  “None of your business.”

  Jake went back to sorting. “Well, if you’ve met the right girl, what are you going to do if she wants kids?”

  “Nothing. It’s not an option.”

  “What do you mean it’s not an option? Did you get a vasectomy or something?”

  Marco gave him a chilling look.

  Jake barked out a laugh and held up his latex-covered hands. “Okay, sorry.”

  Marco tossed another blank wrapper on the pile and drew a deep breath. “It’s just…” He stopped and shook his head.

  “What?”

  “It’s not worth it. Having kids. You worry and agonize and lie awake afraid, then something like this happens and you think you’re dying inside. I don’t want to go through that.”

  Jake stopped sorting and sat there staring at him.

  Marco glanced at him. “What?”

  “What do you think you’re doing right now?”

  Marco looked down and smoothed out the next wrapper. What was he doing? Since the accident, he’d been angry and afraid and sick at heart, and Tonio wasn’t even his kid.

  “You don’t always have to be such a hard-assed cop, you know?”

  Marco tossed the wrapper aside and grabbed another. “Why don’t you stop talking so much and get to sorting? I don’t want to be here all frickin’ day.”

  Jake gave him a smile, then grabbed another piece of trash. He turned it over and smoothed it on the table. “Adonis, take a look at this.” He passed it over the table.

  Written in a scrawling hand was the beginning of a license plate number: 2DLS. Marco’s fingers tightened on it and he nodded his head. “Good job. Good job,” he said.

  * * *

  Peyton rode with Smith in his patrol car to O’Shannahan’s house. After they parked and climbed out of the car, Peyton stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the enormous mansion. Smith moved to her side.