“That sucks,” said Mikey.
Jake nodded, wandering over to the wardrobe he’d bought to compensate for the lack of a closet. He opened a door. His suits were all there, but someone had gone through the pockets. Then a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and he whirled around, dropping to his knees and feeling under the bed. His fingers felt the rough fabric of the camera case and he pulled it out, unhooking the latch. The camera was inside, the lenses neatly arranged in their protective holders.
He closed his eyes and released his held breath. The last pictures he had of Zoë were on that camera, but he’d never had the strength to take them off, download them onto his tablet. He was grateful that they’d left him this one thing.
“At least they didn’t find that, huh?” said Mikey, peering over his shoulder. He looked up and marked the mess that was the bathroom. “Why’d they throw your toothbrush on the floor like that?”
Jake looked up and saw his toothbrush lying by the toilet. “I think they were looking for drugs. You know, prescription painkillers.”
Mikey nodded. “This sucks. You called the cops?”
“Not yet.”
“Won’t do no good. Cops don’t come out here.”
Jake suspected he was right. He set the camera on his bed, then climbed to his feet. “Help me pick up the couch?”
Mikey walked to the end and they righted it, then Jake sank onto the cushion, bracing his elbows on his knees. Mikey sat down next to him. “Man, this sucks ass, dude.”
“Sucks ass,” repeated Jake. “A lot of things suck ass, my friend.”
“You got any idea who did it?”
Jake shook his head. “Do you?”
“Nope. I’ve been at school all day, dude. Just got home.” He looked around some more. “They even took that ghetto stove you had.”
Jake looked over his shoulder at the spot where the hotplate last sat. “They sure did.”
“What you gonna do?”
Jake turned back around and stared at his clasped hands. “Good question. I can’t afford to replace my stuff and I didn’t have insurance.”
“Insurance?”
“Yeah, for things like this.”
“Wouldn’t do no good. You’d just get robbed again.”
Jake figured the boy was right.
“We were robbed three times last year. They even took my sister’s dolls. What the hell they want with dolls?”
“Sell them.”
“Man, I wish we could get out of here.”
Jake offered a sympathetic smile to the boy. “You and me both.” He hesitated. Shit. This was priceless. Peyton would love this if she knew. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past her to set someone up to rob him.
Now that wasn’t being very charitable, but still, this played right into her hand. He reached over and picked up the card on the coffee table. Flipping it over, he studied her name, then blew out the air he was holding.
“You win,” he said and reached for his phone.
* * *
Marco rolled his head, stretching his neck. Looking out the precinct windows, he could see the street lamps were on, chasing back the dark. At least the rain had stopped. He was sitting in a chair in front of the white board with their latest case scribbled in multi-colored dry erase marker. Peyton was listing everything they knew, which wasn’t much by the looks of it. Captain Defino sat on the desk beside him, her short legs swinging back and forth.
“So Javier couldn’t help with the identification of John Doe 1?” Defino asked Marco.
“Nope, but he said he’d pass the drawing Abe and Steve made around his division. Maybe someone there will recognize something.”
“And you couldn’t get Jane Doe to speak?”
Peyton turned around, snapping the cap on the pen. “Not a word. She panicked when she saw Devan.”
“And no one has seen our gangster turned janitor again?”
“According to Nurse Maelee, everything has been quiet since we stationed the uniforms there.”
“And Vice has nothing on Olivia, our happy hooker?”
Marco drummed his fingers on the desk. “She’s still lying low.” He shot a look up at the captain. “If she’s still alive.”
Defino nodded, then ran her hand over her face. “God, I hate this case. We have nothing, and I have a particularly bad feeling about it. I don’t even know what our next move should be.”
Peyton started to say something, then she frowned and reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She glanced at the screen, then began moving toward the front of the precinct. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Marco and the captain exchanged puzzled looks, then Marco shrugged. Must be Devan, he thought, watching her as she began speaking into the receiver. He shifted his attention to Defino.
“Captain, Javier did have an idea of where we might try for some answers.”
“Where?”
He shifted in his seat until he was facing her. He braced his arms on his thighs. “He suggested we show the sketch to Luis Garza.”
Defino automatically looked over at Peyton, but Peyton was absorbed in her phone call. When she looked back, Marco knew her expression mirrored his own. “He’s been locked up for six years now, Marco. How would he know anything?”
“He ran the Aztecas. Javier says it takes a long time for these bangers to move up in the ranks. Our John Doe 1 might have been operating under Garza before he got caught.”
Defino studied his face. “I’d hate to put her through that before we know if he has any information.”
“I know.”
“Put it in your back pocket for now. We might be forced to go there if something doesn’t break, but let’s hold off for a while. And if we do go that route, you’d better be the one to question him.”
Marco rubbed the back of his neck. It was getting stiff from sitting for so long. “She’s just so much better at it than I am.”
“I understand, but you can’t ask that of her.”
“I know.” He stopped talking as Peyton moved back toward them.
She snatched her coat off her chair and swung it around her shoulders. “If you guys don’t mind, something came up. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Marco frowned at her. What the hell came up that she didn’t share with him? They shared everything, in fact, sometimes Marco felt like they shared a little too much, but he couldn’t think of anything she had to do that he couldn’t know. Without a backward glance, she hurried from the precinct.
“What the hell was that about?”
Marco shrugged. “I have no idea.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, studying the white board, but finding no connections. Devan appeared out of the back entrance.
Marco frowned at him as he came to a stop at their desks.
“I bought us another 72 hours from my boss. Hopefully, we’ll come up with something by then.” He looked around the empty precinct. “Where’s my girl?”
“I thought she left with you,” said Marco.
“No, she told me she was working late with you two on the case. Where’d she say she was going?”
“She didn’t. She got a phone call, then took off out of here like something was on fire,” said Defino.
Suddenly everything fell into place in Marco’s head. “Shit.”
They both looked at him for an explanation. He didn’t immediately answer. He didn’t want to betray Peyton’s confidences, even though she obviously didn’t feel the same about him.
“What?” asked Defino. “Do you know where she went?”
Marco had never lied very well. He felt certain he knew where Peyton had gone, but he wasn’t sure how the captain or her boyfriend would respond to it.
“Where did she go?” demanded Devan.
“It’s nothing important.”
Defino wasn’t persuaded. “Let me decide that, D’Angelo. I have a potential gang war going on and one of my officers takes off in a suspicious manner. If you know wh
ere she’s going, I want to know. Consider it an order.”
“It’s not a big deal, Captain.”
“Then it’s no big deal to tell me.”
Marco wished he’d never said anything. He didn’t want to betray Peyton, but he couldn’t ignore a direct order. “I think she went to see Jake Ryder.”
Devan gave him a severe frown. Defino simply looked shocked.
“Jake Ryder? The guy we suspected for killing his wife?” asked Defino.
“Same one, yes.”
“Why would she see him?” questioned Devan.
Damn, Peyton was going to be pissed when she found out he’d told them about this. He felt a twist in his gut. He should never have opened his big, stupid mouth. “It’s really nothing.”
“Why is one of my cops going to see a suspect from a previous case?”
“She thinks she owes him something because we ruined his life. She wants to help him.”
“How?”
“She thinks he’d make a good crime scene photographer to replace Bob Anderson.”
“What?” both Devan and Defino asked.
Marco shrugged. “She felt horrible about what we did to him, and we do need a new photographer.”
“What the hell made her think he’d be it? Has he ever shot crime scenes before?”
“I don’t think so, but he is good. You should see his work, Captain. Everything’s in focus.”
“We can’t go around offering jobs to every suspect we question. That would be ridiculous.”
“I understand that,” said Marco, then he felt obliged to continue, “And so does Brooks? Jake just got under her skin. He really loved his wife and it isn’t often we get to see something like that in this job.”
“I get that, but still, this is highly irregular.”
“But she hasn’t done anything wrong, technically.”
Defino pushed herself off the desk. “I didn’t say it was wrong, but I also don’t think it’s a good precedence to set. And that I need to make perfectly clear to her. I’ll try to leave you out of it, but I’m going to have to talk to her about it. Go home and get some rest, D’Angelo. We need to get back on this case first thing in the morning.” With that, she headed toward her office.
Marco rose and stretched. Devan was tall, but Marco had him by an inch or so. “Don’t be mad at her, okay? She’s trying to be charitable.”
“I get it, and I’m not going to yell at her, but we do need to have a serious discussion. She should have told me what she planned. That’s how relationships work.”
“Well, if you really want a relationship with her, I suggest you be a little careful about making broad generalizations. Peyton doesn’t exactly like to be put in a mold.”
Devan clapped Marco on the shoulder. “Well, that’s exactly what I find most attractive about her. She’s unique. I need a little unpredictability in my life.” He squeezed Marco’s shoulder briefly, then released him, headed toward the back of the precinct again.
Marco chuckled under his breath as he watched him walk away. “Good luck,” he muttered to himself.
* * *
Peyton unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping through. Pickles scrambled across the floor to meet her and she scooped him up, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. She tossed her keys onto the sofa table and watched as Jake lugged his suitcase through the entrance.
He set it down and looked around. He seemed so bewildered and quiet. The entire ride over, he’d said very little. She knew he wasn’t thrilled with taking her up on her offer, but he’d get used to it.
“So here’s the living room, and there’s the kitchen.” She moved toward it, pointing at the stove. “Look, Jake, a real grown-up stove, not an Easy Bake oven.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, removing the camera bag from his shoulder. “That’s enough of that.”
“It’s never enough,” she said, setting Pickles on the floor. She couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. He came to the counter and took a seat. He looked weary and still a little shell-shocked.
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out two beers, twisting the cap off his and sliding it across the counter to him. He lifted it to his mouth immediately. She twisted her own cap off, but didn’t take a sip. She couldn’t believe how happy it made her to have him here. She didn’t realize how much guilt she’d been carrying around about him all these months.
Turning away from him, she hid her emotions by grabbing Pickles’ dish and then pulling his dog food from the cabinet. He danced around her feet as she retrieved the can opener. Jake pointed his beer bottle at him.
“Who’s that?”
“This is Pickles, my better half.”
Jake’s brow quirked upward. “Pickles? Where the hell did you come up with a name like that?”
Peyton mixed the food in his bowl and set it in his spot by the refrigerator. “I have this friend named Abe who likes to make these crazy drinks. The night I brought this little guy home, Abe came over to help me name him and made drinks. After two of his concoctions, you’d be surprised what sounds good.”
Jake gave her a skeptical look. “You could have renamed him the next day when you were sober.”
“You don’t know Abe.” She put the remainder of Pickles’ food away, then motioned to the hall. “Come on, let me show you your room.”
Jake climbed off the stool and followed her. She pointed to the first door on the right. “That’s my room.” She opened the next door and flipped on the light. “This can be your bathroom, but guests will also use it.” She continued on and pushed open a door on the left. “Here’s your room.” She turned on the overhead light. Jake stepped in behind her and looked around. A double bed took up the center of the room, but there was enough room for a desk in the corner, a nightstand, and a dresser. He also had access to a large closet that she never used. “We can replace that bed with yours whenever you want.”
“I gave all of my furniture to the kid next door, so I appreciate that it’s already furnished.” He studied it all a moment more, then turned to her. “Thank you for doing this, Mighty Mouse. I don’t even begin to know how to thank you.”
“It’s nothing. I told you I was thinking of getting a roommate anyway.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she reached for it, pulling it out. She thumbed on the display and a text message appeared in the upper left corner. She touched it and the message opened.
See me in my office first thing tomorrow morning. Oh, and bring Ryder. Captain Defino.
Shit. How did she know that fast? She thumbed off the phone and looked up at him.
He frowned. “What?”
“Captain wants to see us first thing tomorrow.”
“Us? As in you and me?”
Peyton nodded. Pickles padded into the room, so she picked him up. Shit. She didn’t want to discuss this with Defino yet. She hadn’t even worked out what she was going to say. How did the captain know about Jake anyway?
Marco. Shit. Marco must have said something.
“What does she want with us?”
“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” said Peyton, moving toward the door. “Look, I’ll let you get settled. I have to take Pickles for a walk, but I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Peyton, who told your captain that I’m here?”
“I suspect Marco did. He’s the only one that knew I contacted you.”
“And what did he say about it?”
Peyton turned in the doorway. “He told me I was insane for going to see you and that I needed to let you find your own way.”
“I suspect your captain’s going to say the same thing.”
“You’re probably right, but just in case, bring your camera. She might just decide to give you a job.”
“Or she might decide to arrest me again.”
“Or she might do that,” agreed Peyton, leaving him standing alone in the room.
* * *
Peyton and Jake entered the precinct th
e next morning. As she suggested, Jake carried his camera case over his shoulder. He halted in the entrance and looked around, his mouth tightening. Peyton backtracked to him and put a hand on his elbow.
“You okay?”
He gave a strange, jerky nod. “I hate this place.”
She squeezed his elbow. “You’re with the good guys now.”
He gave her a narrowed eyed look. “I was always with the good guys, Mighty Mouse. You just wouldn’t believe me. And let me tell you, you can be one scary bit...”
She tightened her hold a little more. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence. I’m still carrying a gun, Ryder, and I will use it.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, but a smile touched the corners of his mouth.
She pushed open the half-door and held it for him. As they crossed toward her desk, she spotted Marco sitting on top of Maria’s desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
Maria was leaning back in her chair, smirking. “You are in some deep shit again, Brooks,” she said with obvious delight.
Peyton gave her a lazy smile. “Maria, Maria, I just met a girl named Maria.”
“What the hell are you babbling about now?”
“West Side Story,” muttered Jake.
Peyton smiled back at him. When she turned around, Marco wasn’t smiling.
“Ryder,” he said, all menacing male in his black leather jacket and Doc Martin boots. She could see his gun grip peeking out beneath his arm. He had his black hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Adonis,” said Jake, obviously not as intimidated as Marco wanted him to be.
Maria giggled at that, but Marco shot her a glare, then the glare climbed up to Peyton. “You are a shitty-assed partner.”
“I’ve told you that before,” said Maria, swiveling her chair back and forth.
“You aren’t much better. What are you, my big brother, tattling on me?”
“When you go and do stupid things, yes. What the hell were you thinking? You don’t go and rescue every stray perp we happen to question.”
“Well, hold on a minute,” began Jake.
Marco pointed a finger at him. “You don’t speak!”
Peyton blinked in surprise. He was clearly angrier than she’d expected. She moved toward him, but he rose and towered over her. “I may not want the intimate details of what goes on between you and your boyfriend, but this is the sort of stuff you tell a partner, Brooks. You don’t go offering a job to someone who was a suspect a few months ago without talking to people!”
Murder in the Tenderloin (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 2) Page 8