Murder in the Tenderloin (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 2)

by M. L. Hamilton

  “Marco…”

  “I’m not finished. You tell me everything, but this, this is what you keep a secret? What the hell else are you hiding?”

  Peyton bit her lip.

  “Did she tell you I’m renting a room from her?” offered Jake.

  Peyton swung around and glared at him.

  “What?”

  Maria’s mouth hung open and Marco’s eyes were a little too wide.

  “Are you trying to make it worse?” Peyton asked Jake.

  “Consider it revenge,” he said coolly.

  “Peyton.”

  Peyton closed her eyes. Marco only used her first name when he was very, very mad at her. She felt his fingers curl around her arm and turn her.

  “Look at me,” he said, his voice vibrating in the lower register. He was definitely mad.

  She opened her eyes. “Can’t we talk about this later? I have to be chewed out by the captain right now.”

  “Why would you keep this from me?”

  “Probably to avoid you behaving like a Neanderthal,” said Jake.

  Maria whistled and Marco took a step toward him. Peyton threw herself in between them and braced her hands on Marco’s chest. Damn he was well built, she thought, then shook her head to focus.

  “Ryder, I can snap you!” he threatened.

  “Like a Neanderthal.”

  Peyton whirled on him. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “Brooks!” The captain’s voice echoed across the squad room. “My office, now!”

  Peyton drew a deep breath, then pointed at Jake. “Behave yourself.”

  He gave her a smirk as she eased out between them.

  “What the hell do you mean you’re renting a room from her?” said Marco.

  Peyton quickened her pace toward the captain.

  “I give her money every month and in exchange I get to sleep in a place that isn’t crawling with cockroaches or bums.”

  Peyton ducked inside the captain’s office, resisting the impulse to hear Marco’s response. Captain Defino was just taking a seat behind her desk. Peyton slid into the chair across from her and gripped the arms.

  “Nothing like getting two men to act like teenage boys, eh, Brooks?”

  “I’m sorry, Captain.”

  “What the hell is going on? Did I hear right? You’re now renting Ryder a room?”

  “Yeah.” She reached for the photo on the captain’s desk and turned it, looking at a smiling man. He was pleasant looking, middle aged with a thick head of wavy red hair. “Your husband sure seems happy.”

  Defino reached for the photo and turned it back around. “Stop stalling. I want you to tell me everything and I want it now.”

  Peyton clasped her hands. “I went to see Ryder at the bank where he works now. He’s a teller, not a loan officer anymore.”

  “So?”

  “He has a college education, Captain. He’s barely making minimum wage.”

  “Go on.”

  “He didn’t want to see me, so I looked up his address on our system…”

  “You did what?”

  Peyton paused. It did sound barking mad now that she heard it herself.

  “Keep talking.”

  “I went to his apartment. He was living in this rat-trap near the Tenderloin, so I offered him a room in my house. I’ve been thinking of renting it out anyway, so this worked on both ends.”

  “You offered a suspect in a murder case a room in your house?”

  “He was exonerated of all charges, Captain.”

  “Why did you go looking for him?”

  “He was living near the Tenderloin…”

  “A lot of people live near the Tenderloin, Brooks. Are you going to rent every one of them a room?”

  Peyton smoothed her hands on her pants. “No, just Jake.”

  “Why?” The captain was clearly confused.

  “We put him there. We blazed through his life and burned it to the ground. Then we left him to pick up the pieces.”

  “That’s our job, Brooks. We have to use whatever means necessary to bring in the perp.”

  Peyton stared at the glass desk between her and the captain. It seemed like a larger barrier than it was. “Do we? Do we really have to use a scorched earth policy?”

  “What?”

  Peyton lifted her eyes and fixed them on Defino. “I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but is it really necessary to destroy people when we investigate a case? Do we have to trash their lives and then, when we’re wrong, simply say sorry?”

  “Collateral damage.”

  “Does there have to be so much of it? He had a good life, Captain, he was happy. We took that away.”

  “No, his mother-in-law took that away.”

  “And we finished the job.” She looked out the single window. For once Defino had the shade drawn up. She could see the City lying in wait beyond the glass, cars rushing past. “My father used to say our job was to serve and protect.” She looked back at the captain. “We didn’t serve and we didn’t protect Jake. I’m just trying to make up for it.”

  The captain leaned forward on the desk. “You can’t take in everyone who needs help, Peyton. This job will eat you alive. You’ve got to harden yourself to people like Jake or you’ll never be able to help anyone.”

  Peyton blew out her held breath. “In my head, I know you’re right, but in my heart, I feel differently. I can help Jake and what’s more, I want to. I can understand your concern. I know your job is to put the best cops on the street, but this is who I am, Captain.”

  “I am putting the best cop on the street,” said Defino. “But I don’t want to lose her.”

  “It’s been seven years, going on eight, and I’m still here. I think that’s pretty good odds.”

  Defino didn’t answer. She splayed her hand on the glass desk and stared at it for a moment. “What’s this about offering him a job?”

  Peyton slid forward in her chair. She felt the change in the atmosphere. “He’s a hell of a photographer, Captain, and we need someone now that Bob Anderson quit.”

  “How do you know he’s a photographer?”

  “I saw his pictures during the case. He had these great scenes of the City and his wife. They were so clear they seemed three-D.”

  “Peyton, taking pictures of a bridge or your wife isn’t what we do. We take pictures of dead bodies.”

  “I’m aware of that, but a body’s a body dead or alive, Captain. All we need is a clear shot for evidence.”

  “It takes a special person to work homicide, Brooks. It takes someone…” The phone suddenly rang. She grabbed the receiver. “Defino?” She squinted as she listened, then reached for a pen. “Give me that again.” She scribbled something on a notepad. “Got it. Yeah, we’ll get on it. Thanks for the head’s up.”

  She settled the receiver on the cradle and stared at Peyton, then she slowly shook her head. “It’s your lucky day, Brooks.”

  Peyton frowned.

  “They found the rest of John Doe 2 on Hyde Street. Take Ryder and his camera out there and get pictures. If he’s as good as you say, I’ll think about giving him a probationary trial.” She tore the paper off the pad and handed it to Peyton.

  Peyton glanced at the address, then folded it in half, tucking it into her jeans pocket as she rose.

  “Brooks?”

  Peyton paused.

  “I wouldn’t prepare Ryder if I were you. I want to see how he handles this job in all its gruesome glory.”

  Peyton wasn’t sure that was exactly fair.

  “I’m not playing, Brooks. If he can’t handle this call, he’ll never be a crime scene photographer. You understand me?”

  “I’ve got you, Captain.” Peyton headed toward the door.

  “And, Brooks, I’m not pleased with what you’ve done.”

  Peyton hesitated, then she nodded.

  “But I understand it,” Defino finished.

  Peyton smiled and pulled open the door.

  * * *<
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  “Hola, chica!” said Felix.

  Magdalena looked up from her spot at the picnic table. She was eating lunch alone. Well, she wasn’t eating. She was pushing the food around her tray without taking a bite.

  Felix slid onto the bench across from her. He wore a baseball cap, but the bill was pointing to the back, and a white, ribbed tank top. Magdalena stared at his smooth brown arms and defined shoulder muscles. “You don’t like the food?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I can see why. Come on. I’ll take you to get some real food. There’s a taquería just down the street that’s good. I’ll drive.”

  Magdalena shook her head. “I’m not cutting school, Felix. I don’t have much time left as it is.”

  He gave her a frown. “What? You dying or something?”

  She stared at him, feeling her stomach drop. Her thoughts went to Esperanza. “No. My parents are sending my brothers and me to live with my aunt and uncle in Odessa.”

  “Why?”

  “My sister, Esperanza, is sick. She has leukemia. They’re taking her to the Shriner’s Hospital in Austin, so we can’t stay here.” She lowered her eyes and poked at the baked potato on her tray. “I just got used to being here. We’ve only been here three months. I’ve been to two different high schools in the last nine months and now I’m moving again.”

  Felix folded his arms on the table. Magdalena noticed the tattoo on his bicep – the letter Ł in black ink. She didn’t know any other teenagers who had tattoos and openly showed them off. Anyone who got one at their age was trying to hide it from their parents.

  “That sucks.” He leaned over and put his hand beneath her chin. “I don’t want you to go. I just got to know you.”

  Tears filled Magdalena’s eyes. She was so torn. She hated that her sister was sick, but it was ruining all of their lives and the thought of going to another school made her stomach ache. She hadn’t even made friends here. What was the point? They’d just be moved again in a few months and have to start over. She couldn’t imagine what a college would think if they saw her transcript and noted the number of schools she’d attended in her first two years of high school.

  Suddenly, Felix leaned closer to her and then he touched her lips with his. Magdalena had never kissed a boy before, but his lips were warm and sweet. She found herself returning the kiss without really understanding what she was doing. When he pulled away, she realized she had grasped the straps of his tank top, holding him to her.

  He gave her his smile, crooked teeth and all. “Tell you what, chica. You don’t have to go to your aunt’s. Go with me. I’m getting out of this hole and heading toward ‘Frisco. You can come. My cousin said there’s so much to do there. He’s even got a place where we can crash.”

  “What about school?”

  “What about it? You ain’t gonna finish at this rate. A few months in Odessa and then where? Back to Mexico? Screw that. Come with me. I won’t leave you. I promise you that. We’ll go on an adventure together.”

  Magdalena’s dark eyes searched his face. “How can I leave my family?”

  He made a disparaging snort. “They left you, shipping you off to an aunt. What the hell is that? I’ll bet you your tía has kids, don’t she?”

  “Three.”

  “Yeah, and where you think you’re gonna sleep? You think they gonna give you your own room?”

  “No, Mama says we’ll have to stay in the living room in sleeping bags.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s bullshit. Come to ‘Frisco, chica. My cousin will give us a room and after we save up, we can get our own place. Then if you want, you can go back to school.”

  Magdalena stared at him and felt herself tremble. He was suggesting such bad things, she couldn’t even imagine what he’d expect her to do. Mama would disown her, Papa would never look at her again, and she’d be excommunicated from the church. God would take His blessings from her.

  “I can’t run away with you. It’s a sin.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her again. This time the kiss was more demanding and Magdalena felt a strange flutter in her belly. She found herself matching him and when he pulled back, she wanted to drag him to her once more.

  “It’s not a sin if we get married,” he said.

  “We’re too young.”

  He reached for her hair and ran it through his fingers. “I can find a priest who will marry us. My cousin knows of someone in ‘Frisco. He’ll do it because he won’t want us to sin.”

  She could almost hear her mother scolding her for even listening to this, but Mama was sending her away. Mama was choosing Esperanza over her other three children. For the last year, it had been like this. Every time they moved it was because of Esperanza, because Mama found a new doctor who said he could fix her, but it never worked. Still, Mama didn’t care. She’d move again and again no matter how much it tore her other children apart.

  The school bell rang, causing Magdalena to jump. Felix gave her his slow smile that promised adventure and sex and so much more. And Magdalena wanted to take him up on the offer, she wanted to jump without looking.

  “Well?” he said.

  Swallowing hard, she pushed away from him and rose to her feet, grabbing her books. “I can’t,” she said and hurried toward the school.

  CHAPTER 6

  Marco pulled the Charger to the side of the road and set the emergency brake. Jake could see the crime scene tape marking off the area. Two officers were guarding both edges of it. Opening the door, Peyton stepped out and waited for them. The ride over had been tense and quiet.

  Gathering his camera bag, Jake climbed from the backseat. He’d chosen to sit behind Peyton, out of direct view of Marco. As far as Jake could tell, Marco wasn’t speaking to either of them. That was fine with him. He didn’t need another pissing match with that hard-ass.

  They walked down the sidewalk to where a young cop waited.

  “Bartlet,” said Peyton. “You okay?”

  Bartlet was pale and clammy, his hat pushed to the back of his head. “Yeah,” he answered, but his voice had a strange quality to it. Jake wondered what the hell he was getting himself into now.

  “Where is it?” asked Peyton.

  It? Oh, shit, that didn’t sound right.

  Bartlet didn’t turn, but pointed over his shoulder. “Where Holmes is.”

  Peyton nodded, then faced Jake. “Go over to Officer Holmes and he’ll tell you what to do.”

  “You’re not coming.” Jake felt more and more perplexed.

  “Best not to mess up the crime scene until you get the pictures,” she lied. He knew she was lying. Why? What the hell was over there with Holmes?

  His eyes lifted to Marco, but Marco wasn’t about to give him any help. “All right. Want to tell me what I’m taking pictures of?”

  “Officer Holmes will tell you.”

  Jake gave a frustrated huff. Peyton wasn’t backing down. All right then. Well, this was as good a test as any. Either he was cut out for this job, or he’d go back to counting other people’s money. Swallowing down his anxiety, he turned and ducked under the tape as Bartlet held it up.

  “It’s nasty,” said Bartlet at his back.

  Jake took a few more steps toward the older officer.

  “Jake?” Peyton called behind him.

  He turned. “What?”

  “It’s just ahead.”

  He scowled at her. “Yeah, I got that.” What the hell? Where did she think he thought it was? He stopped before the officer. “Holmes?”

  Holmes gave him a scathing once over. He’d taken off his hat. His hair was close-cropped, but thinning on top, a pale blond that allowed pink scalp to show through. He had sharp features and a hooked nose. “So now we’re hiring the cons to take pictures for us? Why the hell not!”

  “I’m not a con.”

  “So you say.”

  “Look, do I know you?”

  “Yeah, I followed your ass for days a few months back. You made me look bad.”<
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  Jake remembered the officers he’d lost when he slipped out of his flat on Potrero Hill. “I’ve got no hard feelings, so why don’t we put it behind us?”

  “Whatever.”

  “What am I supposed to take pictures of?”

  Holmes gave him a wry look. “The crime scene.”

  “Yeah, I got that, but what?” He saw some dumpsters, nondescript doorways, and debris.

  Holmes pointed to a box sitting in front of a dumpster. “That.”

  Jake studied the box. It was a packing box, brown cardboard, about the size of a small appliance. He unslung his camera case and set it by his feet, pulling out the camera. Shooting a last look at Holmes, he caught the lifting of his brows and the smirk on his lips. What the hell was so damn amusing? This whole thing was freakin’ annoying. Why did cops have to be such assholes?

  Taking off the lens cap, he edged toward the box, then peered over the side of it. A man’s head stared back at him – the eyes wide and glassy, the neck a ragged tatter of mutilated flesh, and the mouth open in a twisted grimace.

  It’s just ahead. No! It’s just A HEAD.

  “What the hell!” he said, backing quickly away, holding the camera as if it offered a barrier.

  Holmes chuckled behind him.

  Jake turned on his heel and marched back to Peyton. She gave him a sheepish look as he stormed up to her. “It’s just a head!” he shouted at her.

  Beside him, Bartlet made a gagging noise, but Marco was smiling like a cat in the cream.

  “Calm down, Jake!”

  “Calm down? It’s just a head! In a box! What the hell!”

  He could hear Holmes and Marco both chuckling now.

  “You’re getting worked up,” said Peyton calmly.

  “Worked up! You didn’t think to warn me! What the hell game are you playing?”

  “Captain Defino asked me not to warn you. She wanted to see if you can handle this job. This is the sort of stuff we see daily, Jake.”