“I’m not sure.”
Jake suddenly reached into his own pocket and pulled out his phone. He pressed the display and looked at it. Peyton watched his face drain of color, then he set the phone on the counter. Hanging up on her own call, Peyton gave him a questioning look.
“Jake?”
He glanced up at her, then swallowed hard. “The jury’s back and they have a verdict. Court’s gonna convene in an hour.”
She reached across the counter and took his hand. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”
“I wish that were true, Peyton, but if they don’t convict her, I don’t think I can stand it.”
She took a sip from her coffee mug. “Let me tell Maria we’ll be late, and then I’ll go with you.”
He forced a smile. “I would appreciate that.”
She placed the mug in the sink and went into the hallway, knocking on the bathroom door. Getting ready in the morning was a major bit of road work for Maria. Peyton didn’t understand what the hell took so long – she looked much the same way going into the bathroom as coming out, but according to Maria, it was all necessary in the pursuit of physical perfection, and according to Maria, all the more reason why Peyton, herself, would never find a man.
“Verdicts in, Maria. Jake and I will be late.”
“Whatever. Don’t bother me when I’m waxing, Brooks – something you should consider doing for that mustache of yours.”
Peyton touched her upper lip. Mustache? What? Fighting the almost irresistible urge to run to her own bathroom, she returned to the living room after Jake. He was standing by the door with his camera case over his shoulder.
“Mustache?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “It’s not that noticeable, except in bright light.”
“What?”
He gave a strangled laugh. “I’m dying here, Peyton. Can we go?”
“Do I really have a mustache?” She reached for her gun and began strapping it on.
Jake shook his head. “No, you don’t have a mustache. Why do you let her make you so insecure? It’s annoying.”
“Now I’m hairy and annoying. So glad I gave you both a roof over your heads.”
Jake pulled open the door. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line.”
“Someone?”
He sighed. “It takes a village, Mighty Mouse, it takes a damn village.”
* * *
Jake was beginning to hate the courthouse with a vehemence that he couldn’t put to words. No matter how many times he came into the building, he always felt like he was guilty of something. Just being there made him anxious and to know that the day was finally here, the day where he would learn whether his wife’s killer got what she deserved or went free made him feel physically sick.
Abe and Marco were waiting in the hall when they arrived. Jake couldn’t deny he was touched that they were there. Abe wore a perfectly tailored black suit, but his feet were covered in white snakeskin boots. Marco looked intimidating in a black leather jacket.
“I thought you were vegetarian?”
Abe rolled his eyes. “You can’t recognize pleather when you see it?”
Jake didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t really care. Mostly he was trying to make conversation so he didn’t vomit. Peyton placed her hand in the small of his back and directed him toward the courtroom.
“We can talk about fashion and grooming another time,” she said, reaching for the door.
“Who was talking about grooming?” asked Abe, falling into step behind her.
“Maria said I have a mustache.”
Abe and Marco exchanged a look, then they looked at Jake. Jake shrugged. “Every day it’s a new cat fight.” Peyton stopped and turned on him. He held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa! Don’t go all Junior Walker on me now.”
Surprisingly, that eased the tension and allowed him to enter the courtroom with something resembling dignity. However, the minute he and his entourage headed toward their seats, Claire shifted and gave him a venomous glare.
Jake stumbled to a halt.
Peyton’s hand returned to his back and she leaned close, the floral scent of her shampoo soothing him. “Ignore her,” she whispered. “She can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
Claire’s attention shifted to her and if possible, the look she leveled on Peyton was even more poisonous.
Jake allowed Peyton to guide him to his seat. He clasped his hands in his lap and stared at the back of Devan’s coat, trying to still the frantic pounding of his heart. Peyton reached over and placed her hand on his forearm, as if she knew he needed any sort of human contact right then.
The door behind the judge’s bench opened and the bailiff led the jury to their box. Jake watched each of them file in, marking that none of them made eye contact with Claire. Was that good? Had he heard something about that?
“Remain seated,” the bailiff said and moved back to stand by the judge’s chair.
The judge entered the room, sweeping his robes about him as he took his seat. Then he swiveled to face the jury. “Madam Foreperson,” he said, motioning with his hand.
A middle-aged woman rose to her feet. She lifted a pair of glasses and perched them on her nose. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Have you reached a verdict?”
“We have, Your Honor.”
He swiveled back. “Will the defendant please rise?”
Claire and her two lawyers climbed to their feet.
“Read the verdict.”
The foreperson lifted a square of paper and held it before her face.
“On the count of murder in the first degree, how do you find?”
The foreperson finally made eye contact with Claire. Jake stopped breathing, his heart hammering so hard he felt sure everyone could hear it. Peyton’s fingers tightened on his arm and he covered them with his free hand, clinging to her.
“In the case of the State of California versus Claire Harper, we the jury find the defendant Claire Harper guilty of the offense of murder in the first degree.”
Blood roared in Jake’s ears and his vision swam. He dropped his head against his chest and closed his eyes. He could hear the judge talking, but he wasn’t sure what he said. He felt Peyton’s hand against the back of his neck, her cool touch grounding him, but he couldn’t seem to still the frantic pounding of his heart.
And despite his resolve not to let it happen, he felt tears burn behind his eyelids.
* * *
Peyton ran her hand across Jake’s shoulders, trying to calm him. She glanced over at Marco and gave him a smile. He nodded at her, then stood, leaning around Abe to whisper in her ear.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
She wanted to go out with him and talk to him, but Jake needed her right now. As Marco pulled away, she caught his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed her fingers in return, then turned away from her, walking from the courtroom without looking back.
Abe gave her a questioning look, but she ignored it. She didn’t feel like explaining things to him right now. For once, Abe let it go.
“Are you all right, Jake?” she said, leaning into him.
He nodded, but he still hadn’t opened his eyes. Peyton’s attention was snagged as the bailiff came toward Claire and turned her around so he could cuff her. She stared daggers at Peyton the entire time. Peyton couldn’t help but wonder if Claire understood the seriousness of her predicament. She seemed more angry than afraid. Peyton knew she herself would have been terrified.
Grabbing Claire’s shoulder, the bailiff turned her toward the exit and propelled her forward. Peyton watched her leave, then became aware that Devan was staring at her. She looked back at him.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked.
She nodded and leaned into Jake again. “Are you all right?”
He braced his head in his hands. “Just give me a moment, okay?”
“I’ll stay with him,” offered Abe.
Peyton rose and stepped into the aisle. Abe
slid over into her seat, putting an arm around Jake’s shoulders and talking into his ear. As she walked up the aisle, she could see Jake’s shoulders begin to shake. She hoped he was laughing, not crying.
Once outside the courtroom, she turned and waited for Devan to step out. He opened the button on his jacket and put his hands in his pockets, studying her for a moment.
“I was out of line the other day when I asked you to dinner.”
“Yes, you were.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s over. Chalk it up to male stupidity.”
“Thanks.” He gave her a wry smile. “Just sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so hasty with our relationship.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Without you, I probably wouldn’t have gotten that conviction.”
She shifted weight uncomfortably. “Are you sure about this marriage?” When he started to answer, she held up her hand. “Understand where I’m coming from. I definitely think you and I didn’t work, but it just doesn’t seem like you’re very committed to this other relationship.”
He sighed. “I am when you’re not around. Whenever I see you, I second-guess myself. That’s why we’ve decided to put it off for a while, get to know each other better. Give me time to get over the memory of you and me together.”
“Did you tell her that’s what you wanted to do?”
“I did.” He shook his head. “She’s very understanding. That’s part of my problem, I think. I’ve always liked women who wouldn’t hesitate to hand me my balls if I got out of line.”
“Do you mean me?”
“Hey, I heard about Junior Walker.”
“Did everyone?”
“Holmes has a big mouth.”
Peyton smiled. “I hope you figure this thing out, Devan. I want you to be happy.”
“What about you, Peyton? What would make you happy?”
She thought about that one for a moment. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it probably doesn’t involve marriage. I think I’m married to my job.”
“As a San Francisco homicide detective? You should dream bigger.”
She shrugged. “That’s probably big enough.” Stepping forward, she went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
He brushed his cheek across her hair, then stepped away from her. “You shouldn’t tempt me, Peyton. I’m a weak man.”
She laughed and released him. “Point taken.” She started to go around him toward the courtroom, but stopped. “Hey, do you think I have a mustache?”
He gave her a bewildered look. “What?”
Waving him off, she pulled open the door. “Forget it,” she said, then stepped inside.
* * *
Abe set a shot of Jack Daniels in front of Jake. “Drink up,” he said.
Behind him, the Giants were playing on the big screen TV, the bay glistening in the background. The noise of people’s conversations competed to drown out the announcer on the television.
Maria and Nathan Cho sat on the other side of the table, both of them sipping red wine. Peyton had a mug of draft beer and she curled her hands around it, enjoying the chill against her palms.
A waitress came to the table and settled a fishbowl in front of Abe. Jake looked up at it, frowning. Inside was a blue drink with red Swedish fish floating around the top among the ice cubes.
“What the hell is that?” asked Maria.
“Fishbowl punch,” said Abe, pressing the straw between two elegant fingers and taking a sip.
“Fishbowl punch?” Cho said with a grimace.
Peyton didn’t bother to comment as Abe lifted his drink in the air. “To a resounding victory today,” he said.
Jake touched his glass to the fishbowl and then downed his shot.
Peyton nudged him with her foot. “You okay?”
He nodded. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
“I know.”
“For so long I couldn’t wait to see Claire get what she deserves, but now that it’s over, I feel so empty.”
“Hollow victory,” said Cho.
“I don’t think she even understands what she did,” replied Peyton. “There didn’t seem to be any remorse or fear in her face. Just anger.”
“I know, but anger at who?”
“You...me. Anyone she thinks stopped her from what she wanted.”
“Regular sociopath, that bitch,” said Abe.
“You’d have to be. To kill the child you raised as your own,” said Maria.
“What about her husband’s death and Zoë’s biological mother?” asked Cho. “Are they trying her for those murders?”
“Devan felt this case was their best chance for a conviction,” said Jake, rolling the shot glass against his palm. “She should get enough years that she’ll never see the outside again. Unless she gets off on appeal.”
Peyton shook her head. “Devan’s too good for that. She won’t get off.”
Jake glanced between her and Abe. “Thank you both for being there today.”
Abe inclined his head. “Not a problem. I loved seeing that bitch get hers, even though I will say she has impeccable taste in clothes.”
Peyton touched Jake’s hand. “I wouldn’t have been any place else.”
He squeezed her hand in return, then released her.
Reaching for her phone, she looked to see if Marco had texted her. He’d told her they’d talk later, so she’d left him a message, asking him to meet them at Green’s Sports Bar on Polk, but he hadn’t responded yet.
“No message?” asked Jake, intuitively understanding what she was doing.
“Not from Marco.” She did have a message from Gabby Acosta, the Miami Detective, who’d arrived late in the afternoon. She was resting in her hotel room at the airport, but she wanted to know if Peyton would pick her up in the morning.
Peyton texted that she would, then on the pretense that she needed to update Marco on the case, she pressed his number and lifted the phone to her ear. Placing her finger in her other ear so she could hear, she waited for him to answer.
When it went to his voicemail, she decided not to leave another message and hung up.
“He’s probably just licking his wounds,” offered Jake.
“What’s going on?” asked Abe, nudging her with his shoulder.
“I can’t get a hold of Marco.”
“Why’s he licking his wounds?”
She glanced at Maria and Cho. She didn’t really want to talk with them there. Cho seemed to sense her reluctance.
“Let’s go order a pizza across the street,” he told Maria, then held out his hand to help her to her feet. Together they walked toward the door, his arm around her waist.
“They’re moving fast,” said Jake.
Peyton glanced after them, then met Abe’s questioning look.
“What’s going on with my Angel now?” he demanded.
“Defino made him take a few days off.”
“Why?”
She drew a deep breath. She hadn’t talked with Jake about what happened and she was afraid Marco’s comment about her quitting would only fuel him. “We got into a fight at the precinct after Junior Walker attacked me.”
“A fight about what?”
“He told her to quit.”
Abe whistled, lifting his drink and taking a sip.
“He took it back later,” she said defensively.
Abe didn’t respond.
“I don’t know what is wrong with him lately,” she told them, unable to keep the worry from her voice. “He’s angry all of the time. He criticizes everything I do. And we’ve never fought this much before.” She leaned forward on the table. “Has he said anything to either of you?”
Abe toyed with his straw. “You know I’d give anything for a private tete-a-tete with that gorgeous hunk of maleness.” He nudged Jake with his shoulder. “Get it.”
“Get what?”
“Tete-a-tete? Means private conversation.”
“I know what it
means,” said Jake testily. “And I know what you mean. Everyone knows what you mean.”
Abe giggled and chewed on his straw.
“Abe?” Peyton pleaded.
He forced himself to focus on her. “He’s on edge, sweetie. Just give him a little space.”
“He’s on edge from what?”
“Everything. Alcatraz, his suspension, your run-in with that white trash Junior Walker. He’s just feeling stressed right now.”
“He’s never been like this before.” She turned to Jake. “Did he say anything to you?”
Jake’s eyes snapped to her face. “Me? Why would he say anything to me? He barely tolerates me as it is.”
“That’s true,” said Abe, taking a sip.
Jake frowned at him.
Peyton slumped back in her chair. She didn’t know what to do. If Marco wouldn’t talk to her and no one else knew what was going on, how was she going to get him to open up? Her phone vibrated on the table and she snatched it up, hoping, desperately, that it was him.
What do you want on your pizza? came the message from Maria. And don’t say pepperoni. You don’t need the fat or your ass will be as big as a whale’s.
Peyton sighed and texted back. Cheese and whale is just fine with me.
CHAPTER 15
Katherine Defino felt her stomach sink the moment she took the call. She couldn’t process what the other captain was telling her. After it was over, she sat, staring at her desk. Being a detective taught you to never doubt your instincts, so she’d gone with her instinct and hadn’t broken up her best detective team when she should have. She usually wasn’t wrong, not when she followed her own rules, but now she had to face the fact that her policy might be catching up with her, that she might have let her personal feelings cloud her judgment.
Worse still, she might have let personal feelings trump the advice of a trained professional when he told her she ought to split the team. The Chief was not going to look away at that. She might have cost herself her career, but worse still, if she had acted when she should have, she might have prevented a death.
Her hand went to the phone without realizing it and she pressed Maria’s button.
“Yes, Captain,” said her assistant, picking up immediately.
Murder in Chinatown (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 5) Page 26