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

by M. L. Hamilton

  Worry for her family made her stomach hurt. She hadn’t eaten much during the entire trip. Did Mama take Esperanza to the Shriners? Were they looking for her? She hadn’t even left them a note. After the fight with Mama, she’d run to the school. She hadn’t expected to see Felix, but he and his friends were hanging out there. When he suggested again that they go to San Francisco, she’d agreed. She’d regretted it every moment after, but it was too late now. Too many things had happened.

  “Felix,” she said, shifting in the seat to face him. He had the window down and his arm braced on the sill. He needed a shower as bad as she did. For the last few days, he’d tied his hair up in a bandana. “When we get to your cousin’s, can I use the phone?”

  He didn’t answer. He reached over and turned up the radio, tapping his hand on the steering wheel. In fact, since their first night in the motel, he hadn’t really spoken to her very much at all.

  “Felix?”

  “Don’t nag me, chica. We’ll see. It’s long distance now and costs a lot of money.”

  “I just want to tell my family that I’m all right.”

  “I’m your family now.”

  Magdalena curled her arms around her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to pray.

  He reached over and wound a lank strand of hair around his fingers, tugging on it. “Come on, chica. We gonna have so much fun now we’re in ‘Frisco. You won’t even think about home anymore.”

  Magdalena’s eyes stung with tears, but she turned toward the window and looked out at the bay spreading beneath the bridge. Oh, God, please don’t forsake her now.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jake tossed the car keys onto the sofa table where Peyton always left them, then deposited the crime scene manual and his camera case beside it. Pickles didn’t come prancing out to see him, which he found strange.

  He headed toward the back of the house. Peyton’s door was closed, but his bathroom was open. A young woman with bleach blond hair was shaving her leg, her foot braced on the toilet. She had a towel wrapped around her and her hair was damp, hanging over a bare shoulder.

  She looked up at him when he appeared in the doorway and a wicked smile spread across her face. “Well, hello, baby,” she purred.

  Jake backed quickly away. “Peyton!” he shouted.

  The door to her room flew open and she appeared in the doorway. Behind her, Jake could see Pickles lying on the bed. He pricked his ears at Jake’s voice.

  “Jake, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “There’s a woman in my bathroom, naked.”

  Peyton smiled. “That’s Olivia. She’s just getting cleaned up.” She held up a pair of shorts and a tank top. “I’m trying to find her something to wear, but she’s a lot taller than I am.”

  “Why is she here?”

  Olivia wandered to the door and peeked out at Jake, giving him a practiced pout. Peyton only briefly glanced at her.

  “I’m taking her to a shelter, but she didn’t feel she could go looking like a…” She stopped and motioned toward Olivia with her chin.

  “Like a what?” demanded Jake.

  “Like a hooker,” offered Olivia, disappearing into the bathroom again.

  “Exactly.”

  The outer door opened and he heard Marco bellow, “Brooks!”

  Peyton pushed past Jake and went out to meet him. Jake edged to the entrance of the living room and peered out. “What did you get?” she asked, taking the bag from him and opening it.

  “Panties, bra, and a sweat suit. I also picked her up a toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant.”

  “Wow! You did good with her size.” She gave him a critical look. “Must be all that experience with undressing women.”

  “Cute,” he answered. “Is she ready? Let’s get this done, all right? I promised Vinnie I’d come over for dinner.”

  “Give me a minute.” She stuffed everything back into the bag and carried it past Jake again, knocking on the bathroom door.

  Jake watched her disappear inside, then he wandered into the living room. Marco had just taken a seat on the couch, sprawling out his long legs and clasping his hands on his belly.

  “Ryder.”

  “Adonis.” He pointed over his shoulder at the hallway. “Is she really a hooker?”

  “She ain’t Mother Teresa.”

  “And she’s here why?”

  Marco let out a long suffering sigh. “Because she wanted a shower before she goes to a woman’s shelter and my partner, your new roommate, is a sap.”

  “Is it a good idea to bring hookers here?”

  “I don’t know. With the murder suspect living here now, seems to me she’s got a matched set.”

  Jake gave him a tight smile. “I get you have a problem with me, but we both know I didn’t do anything. If one of us should be pissed at the other, it really should be me, so why don’t you stop riding my ass?”

  Marco held up a hand. “You’re right. It’s been a bitch of a day.”

  Jake took the armchair across from him. “This just doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “It’s a rotten idea, but what the hell do you want me to do? If I didn’t agree to bring her here, Peyton would have done it behind my back. This way, I’m here to shoot someone if it goes horribly wrong.”

  “She’s a handful. Is this what I get to look forward to everyday? Hookers here in the morning, drug dealers in the afternoon, and maybe a pirate after supper?”

  “Lately she’s had this thing for vampires, so you might want to get you a cross and some holy water.”

  “Thanks for the head’s up.”

  Peyton and Olivia emerged. In the light blue velour track suit and her hair in a ponytail, Jake would never have suspected her to be what she was. She looked young and innocent, the seductive expressions replaced by a look of panic.

  Peyton motioned her to the other armchair, then picked up a pad of paper and a pen that had been sitting on the coffee table. “I did my part, now you do yours. Give me the locations of where the Aztecas usually crash.”

  Olivia took the paper and the pen Peyton held out to her. “If they find out I told you, I’m dead.”

  “If you stay at the shelter, they can’t find you. Come on, Olivia, you promised.”

  The young woman looked around, hoping for a sympathetic face, but when she didn’t find it, she lowered her head and began writing. Jake looked up at Peyton. She seemed pleased with this turn of events.

  * * *

  Peyton typed in the rest of the update on her report to Defino. Picking up the pen, she chewed on the end of it as she read it back over. Marco wandered out of the break room and placed something on the corner of her desk.

  Peyton glanced down and saw a chocolate covered donut bathed in multi-colored sprinkles. Instantly, she felt happiness wash over her and she smiled up at him.

  “That might taste better than the pen,” he said.

  She dropped the pen and tore into the donut, placing a bite in her mouth. Closing her eyes in bliss, she chewed slowly to savor it. She tried to avoid donuts, but they called to her whenever someone brought them into the squad room.

  “I think I prove the stereotype about cops and donuts.”

  Marco smiled.

  She paused in placing another piece in her mouth, glad to see him do something besides scowl at her all the time. “Abe’s right. You’re so much handsomer when you smile.”

  He shook his head in amusement, then went to his desk.

  From the front of the squad room, Holmes and Bartlet appeared. Holmes stopped at their desks, taking off his hat and scratching his head. “Not a damn thing. They must have cleared out when they heard we were coming.”

  Peyton swiveled in her chair and looked up at them. “You didn’t find anything?”

  “We checked two of the places on the list. Cho and Simons are checking the third. We found a couple of bums crashing in the first and a bunch of those ŁĦȺ things painted all over, but nothing else.”

  “Were
both of the addresses abandoned buildings?” asked Marco.

  Bartlet moved forward. “The second one wasn’t abandoned. It was a flop house, bad.”

  “One of the residents told us which room they rented, but when we got up there, it was cleaned out,” finished Holmes.

  “Do you think she led us wrong deliberately?” asked Peyton, turning to Marco.

  Marco shrugged.

  “They were there. At the second place, a lot of the residents talked about them, how there were people in and out, but they said they cleared out about a week ago.”

  “The residents weren’t afraid of them?”

  Holmes scratched at the crown of his head. “I think they avoided them, but the bangers were pretty free with the money from time to time.”

  “Thanks,” said Peyton.

  Holmes walked away, but Bartlet stopped. “Sorry,” he said.

  Peyton nodded. She swiveled back to Marco. “Every time I think we’ve got a lead on this case, it slips away from us. Maybe those two deaths were isolated incidents.”

  Marco studied her a minute, but he didn’t respond. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet. “Want some coffee?”

  Peyton frowned at him, but he walked away from her before she could answer. She started to go after him, but Cho and Simon came through the outer door, pushing a Hispanic teen in front of them.

  Peyton redirected herself and followed them as they shoved the boy toward an interrogation room. They had to pass Jake’s desk as they went and he swiveled to watch them.

  “Bring your camera,” said Peyton.

  He closed his manual and grabbed the camera bag, following her.

  While Simons took the boy into the interrogation room, Cho, Peyton and Jake entered the viewing room, watching through the one-way glass. Bill Simons might not be as tall as Marco, but he was huge. He always reminded Peyton of a bear. He shoved the boy into a chair and then looked up at the glass.

  Nathan Cho was small, but he moved with a quick, fluid grace that Peyton wished she could master. He watched the exchange between the boy and Simons, then turned when Marco and Captain Defino entered. Jake moved to the back of the room, clearly confused as to why he was there.

  “What’s going on?”

  Cho rocked on his heels. “We got to the location Brooks gave us. It was abandoned. A warehouse, but there was nothing inside. We caught the boy hanging around outside, watching us. Had to chase the little shit down.”

  The boy was thin, wiry, a bandana tied around his forehead, his clothing baggy and hanging off his frame. He wore a white tank-top, but a heavy jacket was pulled up around his neck and ears.

  “He’s probably a look-out for the gang,” said Peyton.

  Cho nodded.

  “What are we going to hold him on? He wasn’t doing anything illegal,” said Defino.

  Cho reached into his pocket and pulled out an evidence bag. Inside were a few white rocks. Peyton took it and held it up to the light.

  “He’s just a kid,” she said, setting the bag on the table before the windows. “Jake, take some pictures of these, please.”

  While Jake opened his camera case, they watched the boy.

  “Does he have a tattoo?” asked Marco.

  “I’ll find out,” said Cho, going into the room. He ordered the boy to take off his jacket. With Simons hulking over him, he complied, keeping his head down. Peyton could see his hands trembling. Either he was on the stuff or he was afraid, but he clearly didn’t know what they were going to do to him.

  His arms were stick thin, his chest concave. As the jacket came off, Cho took it away as evidence and Simons grabbed the boy’s left arm, turning it so they could see his bicep. He didn’t put up any resistance.

  An angry red covered the area around his shoulder muscle and the letter Ł was scrawled in black ink. Peyton frowned, uncertain what that meant. Cho reentered the viewing room with the jacket.

  “Now what?”

  Defino took over. “Leave Simons there. Brooks, you go in. Marco, let’s see if we can get him some food and a soda. Maria can call out for a burger or something.”

  Marco left the room.

  Defino turned to Peyton. “Try to get him talking. He’s obviously scared to death.”

  “Got it.” Peyton motioned to Jake. “Come with me and get some pictures of that tattoo.”

  She didn’t wait to see if he would follow, just walked into the interrogation room. Simons moved back to take up a position of intimidation at the boy’s back, out of his line of sight, as Peyton took a seat at the table near him. Jake edged into the room, looking completely out of place, but Peyton nodded at the boy.

  “Take a couple of his arm, okay?”

  Jake began snapping pictures. The boy glared at him from the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t make any other move.

  “I’m Inspector Brooks,” she said. “We’re trying to get you something to eat. You look hungry.”

  He stared at the table, but didn’t say anything. Being this close to him, Peyton suspected he was only twelve or thirteen at best. Possibly a mule for the Aztecas, carting drugs, spying.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  “They said to tell the cops nothing, especially not my name.”

  “Who said?”

  The boy gave her an arch look.

  Peyton decided to go a different direction. “Does the tattoo hurt? It looks new.”

  “Got it last week,” he mumbled.

  “Why is there only an L? The others I’ve seen have been three letters.” She leaned forward on the table as Jake continued to snap pictures. He wasn’t just taking the tattoo anymore, but Peyton didn’t stop him. “The ones I’ve seen on others have been L…H…A...” She let the letters hang between them.

  Slowly the boy raised his head and met her gaze. She couldn’t even see a mark of stubble on his jaw and his face had that roundness of youth. Jake snapped one last picture, then backed away.

  “Thank you,” she said, nodding toward the window.

  Jake hurried from the room, leaving only Simons and her with the boy.

  “You gots to earn the letters,” said the boy.

  Peyton gave him a kind smile. “How do you do that?”

  “The first one’s easy. You just deliver stuff for them. Once you done it enough, you get the Ł.”

  “Stuff like the rocks we found?”

  He looked down. “Yeah, like that.”

  “How do you get the second?”

  He shrugged his narrow shoulders.

  “I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t help me. You’re in a lot of trouble. Underage, carrying crack. Those aren’t good things. They could get you sent away for a long time.”

  “To jail?”

  Peyton nodded sadly.

  “They said I couldn’t go to jail. I was too young.”

  “They were wrong. We can try you as an adult. Drug possession is a serious offense, but if you help me, I can help you.”

  “I can’t go to jail. I gotta help my mom and sisters. They need me.”

  “I understand that, but you’ve got to give me something before I can help you.”

  “What you want to know?” His shoulders slumped. He was hungry, scared and so very young. He still wanted to trust someone in authority.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Carlos.”

  “Carlos what?”

  “Oroso.”

  “How do you earn the next letter, Carlos?”

  “Couple’a ways.”

  “Okay. Tell me them.”

  “You gotta make a deal yourself, not just carry it.”

  “All right. How else?”

  “You gotta give them some information they want – you know, like about cops, or other gangs.”

  “Spy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anything else?”

  Carlos looked down, raising his hand to rub the tattoo. “Bring them girls.”

  Peyton’s eyes lifted to Simons. H
e gave a shudder.

  She reached out and stopped the boy from rubbing the tattoo. The contact made him look at her. “How do you earn the third letter, Carlos?”

  His mouth worked, but no sound came out. Then he pulled his lower lip between his teeth and chewed at it.

  Peyton drew her chair closer to him. “Tell me this, Carlos, and I promise we’ll get some help to your mother and sisters. I know some people who get other people out of gang situations.”

  He searched her face with eyes far too old for his years, but he didn’t answer.

  “Carlos, please help me out. How do you earn the third letter?”

  He leaned forward slightly, dropping his voice, but Peyton heard him clearly. “You gotta kill someone.”

  * * *

  “Thanks, Javier.” Marco clicked off the phone and turned back to the gathering around his desk. “He’ll take over from here. He’s got a counselor who can make contact with the mother, get her some help, and there’s a juvenile program for first offenders that the DA can recommend to the judge.”

  “That’s all we can do,” said Defino.

  Jake sat at the back of the circle, watching them. He honestly hadn’t given much thought to what the police did. Arrest people, rough them up, force them to admit to things they did or didn’t do, then walk away from them, but the group gathered here seemed genuinely concerned about the skinny kid with the half-finished tattoo.

  Peyton had been unusually quiet since they questioned the boy. Jake could imagine it was hard to realize that no matter what anyone did, there probably was no way to stop the boy from continuing down his current path.

  Her phone rang, a bluesy song that seemed to match the mood in the room. She reached into her pocket for it and thumbed it on. “Brooks?” She listened for a few moments, then sat forward in her chair. “When did this happen? Okay, hold on.” She grabbed her pen and a pad of paper. “Give it to me again.” She scribbled an address on the pad, then tapped the pen against it. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it.”

  She lowered the phone and met the captain’s gaze. “They’re moving Athena to a small psych hospital out in the Sunset. They couldn’t keep her in the hospital because of the costs. The two officers are accompanying her there, but they’ve already been told they can’t stay. The psych hospital has its own security.”