Murder on Treasure Island (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 7)

by M. L. Hamilton

  “She’s staying with her mom, right?”

  “Uh, right.”

  “What if I just send some flowers there? I think Maria has the address.”

  “I think that would be okay.” He held out his hand. “You know what? Maybe I should call her and tell her you’ve got my phone for a little while. She might try to get in touch, you know?”

  Stan passed it back.

  Marco dialed Peyton’s cell, giving Stan a tense smile. He breathed a sigh of relief when she picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, partner,” she said in a sultry voice.

  “Hey, um, look, Stan’s going to have my phone for a bit, so he can pull off the text messages I got the other day. Just wanted you to know in case you tried to call.”

  “So I probably shouldn’t send you those naked selfies I just took, eh?”

  Marco caught his breath, turning partially away from Stan. “No, no you can send them, just wait until I tell you it’s all right,” he said, fighting a laugh.

  “How about you come home and I’ll show you in person?”

  “Sounds good.” He smiled at Stan. “Give me a few hours, okay?”

  “We’ll see. I might have other plans.”

  Marco’s fingers tightened on his phone. “We can talk about that later.”

  “Talk?”

  “Okay, not talk, but...I gotta go.”

  “Bye, partner,” she purred into the line and hung up.

  Marco released a breath and held the phone out to Stan. Stan eyed him strangely. “She’s feeling a little anxious, that’s all.”

  “Anxious?”

  “Yeah, but she’ll be all right.”

  “Okay?”

  Marco nodded, then backed away, feeling Stan’s eyes following him.

  * * *

  Peyton set the phone down on the sink and stared at it a moment. She was tempted to call Marco back. The house was quiet. Jake and Maria were both at work and Pickles slept on her bed. Defino didn’t want her to go in for a week, until she had time to meet with Dr. Ferguson, but staying here by herself wasn’t the best option. She could have stayed at Marco’s, but part of her was determined to get back to routine as quickly as possible.

  Reaching for the towel she’d wrapped around her body, she opened it, then turned sideways, looking at herself in the mirror. Two burn marks from the taser showed pink against her dark skin. She touched the marks with her fingertips, then closed her eyes and leaned on the sink.

  When she took a deep breath, she imagined she could feel the carbon monoxide in her lungs still, even though she knew that was ridiculous. She also sometimes heard the rumble of the engine beneath her.

  She forced herself to look up into the mirror. Biting her bottom lip, she gathered her heavy hair in one hand and bound it in a ponytail, then she forced herself to put on a little mascara. Her eyes strayed to her gun and she stared at it. She’d never taken her gun into the bathroom before. In fact, once she got home, she put it on the peg by the door and forgot about it.

  This is how people got shot in their own home. This is how horrible mistakes were made. Someone gets spooked and all sorts of terrible things happen. Yet still, she picked the gun up and carried it with her into the bedroom.

  As she dressed, she thought about the previous night. Thinking of Marco eased the panic a little, made her feel giddy with happiness. She realized she’d always been curious, wondering what sort of lover he might be. She sat down on her bed and picked up the picture Jake had given her, staring at the two of them. Eight years ago, when Marco had walked into her life, she’d been drawn to him immediately. Even when she knew he hadn’t been. He’d struggled having her as a partner, but she’d been fascinated by him. Then they’d come to rely on each other. Not just professionally, but personally.

  Last night had changed their relationship in terrifying ways. If they didn’t work out as lovers, what would happen? When everyone else fell away, he was always there for her – her best friend, her constant companion, her rock. If they didn’t make it as lovers, she would lose the most important person in her life.

  She reached over and rubbed Pickles’ belly.

  She was spooking herself over nothing. He was the most important person in her life. Being friends, being partners had been special, but sharing last night with him had been far better than she’d expected. For the first time, the terrible loneliness had dissipated leaving only him. And she discovered, he was enough. He was everything.

  She picked up the little dog and kissed him, then set him on the floor, going to her closet and removing clean sheets. She stripped her bed and remade it, then smoothed out the covers. They couldn’t stay here together because of Maria and Cho, but Maria thought she was staying with her mother. No use in Jake sleeping on the couch if he didn’t have to.

  Then she packed an overnight bag for herself and strapped on her gun. Pickles followed her into the living room. She gathered everything she needed and placed it by the door, then she took down Pickles’ leash and snapped it on his collar.

  Glancing at her phone, she marked it was almost 1:00PM. Leading the little dog to the door, she opened it and they went down the stairs. She fully intended to take him for their usual walk, but as soon as she stepped onto the driveway, her heart started to pound.

  She looked around, searching the street, but except for a few cars, she saw nothing. Her eyes landed on the house across from hers. Crime scene tape had been stretched across the front of it.

  She stood with Pickles in the driveway, paralyzed, staring at the yellow tape as it flapped in the breeze. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but her phone suddenly rang. It made her jump, but she reached for it in her pocket. Pickles looked back at her with an almost sympathetic expression on his doggy face.

  She looked at the display, hoping it was Marco, but her mother’s number flashed at her. She thumbed it on and held it to her ear. “Hey, Mama.”

  “How are you, sweetheart? I was thinking of you and wanted to call.”

  “I’m fine. Just getting ready to go into work.”

  “What? I thought you had the week off?”

  “I do, but I just want to go in. It’s too hard sitting around the house. I’m not used to it.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Peyton. Why don’t you come over and I’ll make you some lunch?”

  Peyton rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Mama, I’m all right. I just have to get back to my routine.”

  “What about tonight? Why don’t you stay with us tonight?”

  Peyton smiled. “I have plans tonight, Mama.”

  “Plans? What sort of plans?”

  Peyton hunkered down and stroked Pickles’ head. “Just dinner plans.”

  “With a man?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is this someone I approve of?”

  “I would hope so.”

  “Okay, but if you need me you call, all right?”

  “I will. Don’t worry, Mama. I’m really fine.”

  “I won’t ever stop worrying as long as you do that job. Don’t ask that of me.”

  Peyton rose to her feet. “I know. I’m sorry, Mama. I never meant for you to worry.”

  “Someday you’ll know how it feels.”

  Peyton wasn’t sure about that. Marco had been pretty adamant about marriage and children. Not gonna happen, he always said. She didn’t think her presence in his life was about to change that.

  “All right. I’ll talk to you later, Mama, okay?”

  “Okay. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

  “Goodbye, Mama.” Peyton hung up. Tugging on Pickles’ leash, she led him back to the stairs. She couldn’t face a walk today. She wanted to get to the precinct and see Marco. She wanted that more than she wanted anything else right now, including chocolate.

  * * *

  Maria had set him up with a cubicle away from the rest of the precinct in direct line of her desk and Defino’s office, but it was turned so that he could supervise everyt
hing that went on around him. She’d offered to help him move his stuff over to this new desk, but he’d declined. He wanted to do it himself. He felt such conflict over this new role and moving his own things forced him to deal with it.

  It took him longer than it probably should have because he found himself just sitting at his old desk, staring at Peyton’s. He liked to bring her silly little things, just to see her smile – a chocolate milkshake, a donut, a candy bar. He lived for those smiles.

  After her father died, she stopped smiling. At first, he didn’t try to make her smile, out of respect for her grieving, but then he realized how much he relied on those smiles, how much they meant to him over the course of a day. So he left early one day and went to Ghirardelli Square. He usually avoided such places in the City. They were the purview of tourists and he hated the crowds, but he fought for parking on the street and located the Chocolate Shop. On one shelf, he found a little chocolate dog. This was before Pickles, but she’d been talking about getting a dog for a few months prior to her father dying.

  He bought the dog and brought it back to her, placing it on her desk at her elbow. She glanced over at it, then up at him, and she smiled. He wasn’t sure when he first realized he loved her, but that smile might have been a step on the road to his eight-year infatuation. Of course, she wouldn’t eat the dog, but he never forgot that smile.

  Standing in his new cubicle, he turned and faced the strange fabric covered pseudo-walls. Jake had photographs plastered all over his cubicle, but Marco had never been one for decoration. Still, the blank grey panels cried for something.

  “Do you have room for a picture of your girlfriend on that wall?”

  He looked over his shoulder. Peyton stood at the entrance, leaning on a partition. He walked over to her, glancing out at the precinct to see if anyone was within hearing range. “I don’t know. It can’t be the one she’s sending me via text.”

  “They didn’t waste any time moving you away from me, did they?”

  “‘Fraid not.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her cheek, letting his fingers linger. “What are you doing here?”

  “Unless they fired me, I used to work here.”

  “You’re supposed to take the week off and spend some time with Dr. Ferguson.”

  She made a face. “I don’t need Dr. Ferguson using my head as his playground.”

  He lowered his hand. “Peyton, maybe you should take the sessions with him a little more seriously this time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Marco.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She looked away from him. He always knew she was hiding something when she wouldn’t make eye contact.

  “Peyton?”

  “It’s not good for me to be home. I need to work. We…” She motioned between them. “...need to work on this case.”

  “Defino isn’t going to clear you until you’ve had at least one session with Ferguson.”

  She took a step closer to him, looking him straight in the eyes. “Why don’t you leave early, so you can keep me company?”

  He sucked in air. “Temptress,” he said lowly. “Let me finish here and we’ll go.”

  She grinned in triumph.

  “What about Maria?”

  “What about her? I’m not into kinky crap, D’Angelo.”

  Marco shook his head in amusement. “We can’t exactly stay together at your place.”

  “Actually, I’ve got that figured out. My mother told everyone I was staying with her for the week, so that’s where I’ll technically be. I packed a few things, unless you mind me invading your wild bachelor pad.”

  He glanced out at the precinct. He wanted to show her just how much he didn’t mind, but people were always wandering around. “Bachelor pads are overrated.”

  She moved close to him again, as close as she could get without touching him. “Then why don’t you stop flirting with your ex-partner and get done, so we can go home.”

  He swallowed hard and gave her a nod.

  “Good, then I’m going to tell Jake he can use my bed.” She turned away, giving him a sultry look.

  “I’d avoid Stan if I were you.”

  She hesitated and frowned at him. “Why?”

  “He plans to ask you out again. He thinks your feelings about him may have changed and that you might be open to a relationship.”

  Peyton pretended to consider that. “Hm, interesting. He does have all those sweet toys in his office.”

  “Just imagine what his house looks like.”

  Peyton went still, then gave a shudder and continued on her way.

  * * *

  Jake looked up as Peyton stopped outside his cubicle. “Hey, Mighty Mouse, how are you?” He gave her a serious once over.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I thought you weren’t coming in for a while. Weren’t you supposed to see the shrink?”

  “I don’t need a shrink,” she said defensively.

  Jake’s brows rose. “Really?”

  “Knock it off, Ryder.”

  He shrugged. “So everything good between you and Adonis?”

  Peyton’s lips lifted in a sexy smile. “Yeah, everything’s great between us.”

  Jake gave her a slow nod.

  “Look.” She glanced around the precinct. “I’ll be staying at my mother’s for the next few days.”

  “Your mother’s?”

  “Right.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “So, I changed my bed. You’re welcome to stay in there if you want.”

  “Your mother’s?”

  She glanced around again. “We’re keeping things on the Q.T. for now.”

  “I see. Why? He’s been moving his crap out of his desk all day. And I heard you’re getting a new partner.”

  “Because Defino will move him out of the precinct if she knows. Please, Jake.”

  “I’m not saying anything to anyone, Mighty Mouse. I’m not about to go gossiping about who shares your bed.” He tilted his head back at her. “Pickles stays with me, though. That’s the deal.”

  She glared at him. “He’s my dog, Ryder.”

  “He’s my best friend, Brooks.”

  “Fine. Pickles stays with you for this week. Then all bets are off.”

  “I don’t know. In my sad and lonely state without him, I might just slip up and say something I shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t blackmail me with my dog, or I might just slip up and kick you out of my house.”

  Jake laughed. “We both know you ain’t gonna do that,” he said, turning back to his computer.

  He felt Peyton’s glare, but he ignored it.

  “You don’t know me that well, Ryder.”

  “Yes, I do.” He glanced at her. “Now, don’t you have to go make poor Adonis squirm or something?”

  She punched him in the shoulder, then left. Jake smiled, rubbing the spot with his hand. He was so damn glad to see some spirit in her. Not to mention, he was relieved. If she was with Marco, he figured she’d be safe. The latest episode with the Janitor had spooked him so bad, he’d put a call into his sister Faith and asked her to start looking for jobs for him in Nebraska. He’d cancelled that, though. He couldn’t leave Peyton now. Not when she was so vulnerable. Knowing that Marco was a permanent fixture in her life eased a little of that worry. If things worked out between them like he hoped they would, maybe he could go home and leave all of this behind.

  CHAPTER 2

  Peyton checked the address on her phone. The sun was shining down on Market, but a chill was in the air, reminding her that autumn had come to sit over the City. In the shadows of the buildings, she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

  She walked to the door of a skyscraper and pulled it open. Her boot heels clicked on the marble flooring as she crossed to the bank of elevators and stared at the marquee, searching for Ferguson’s name. This time he wanted her to come to him. Fine, she intended to spend her obligatory hour here and then get into work where
she belonged.

  She located his name on the second floor and pressed the button for the elevator. A bell chimed behind her and she turned, stepping into the open door. She pushed the second floor button and watched the numbers as the door shut and the elevator began to lift.

  She was released into a hall carpeted in pale silver with silver wallpaper climbing to the acoustic ceiling. Directly across from her was a glass door with a name etched into the glass. She noted the suite number and turned left, walking down the hallway until she came to Ferguson’s door.

  She pushed it open and found herself in a waiting room. A number of black upholstered armchairs were arranged in a semicircle with glass tables between them. The tables were covered with magazines. A second solid wooden door rose before her with a red light over it. A sign on the door told her to take a seat and wait for the light to go out before knocking.

  She sank into an armchair and reached for a magazine. The cover sported photographs of beautiful celebrities with provocative titles splashed in red font. She turned to one salacious story about a reality television star – some housewife of some major city somewhere – and tried to read, but her thoughts kept going back to this morning.

  Having coffee in Marco’s apartment, while he made them breakfast, had seemed so normal, so domestic. She’d never fancied Marco for the domestic type, but he seemed to have eased into that role with little problem.

  Twice last night, she’d woken up in a panic, her heart pounding, unable to breathe. He’d gathered her in his arms and held her until she calmed. God, she could get used to that too. It was so easy to let him enfold her in his embrace, to let him chase back the nightmares. She didn’t realize how damn lonely she’d been until now.

  The light over Ferguson’s door went out. She closed the magazine and settled it on the table. A moment later, the door opened and the tall, lean doctor with the perpetually out of date suits appeared, leading another man. They shook hands, then the man turned for the door, giving Peyton a nod.

  Peyton nodded back.

  She felt Dr. Ferguson’s eyes land on her. “Good morning, Inspector Brooks. Won’t you come inside?”