She reached across the table and clasped his hand with both of her own. “You aren’t MacFarland. There’s no way in hell I’d let you wear slippers.”
He laughed and squeezed her hand.
Jake walked into the break room, but came to a halt. “No one told me we were having cake, or…” He focused on their clasped hands. “Am I interrupting something?”
Peyton released Marco and leaned back. “What would you be interrupting?”
Jake sank into the chair perpendicular to her and reached for a fork stashed in the paper cup in the middle of the table. “I’m never sure what I’m going to walk in on anymore,” he said, spearing a bite of cake.
“Really? At the precinct?”
“I don’t know. Everyone seems to be hooking up lately. Maria and Cho. You and Grumpy.” He motioned with the fork at Marco. “Next thing you know, I might walk in on Tag and Simons.”
“Simons is married and Tag’s gay.”
“You never know,” he said, taking another bite. “Hey, Adonis, I could really go for a cup of coffee.”
“So could I. Get it.”
Jake rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, going to the coffee pot.
“What’s game night?” Marco grumbled.
“Oh, crap. That’s right. We’re going to my house for barbecue and game night,” said Peyton, giving him an apologetic look.
“We need to work on our mutual calendar, Brooks. What is it?”
“I’m not sure. Abe and Maria came up with it.”
Jake returned with the coffee and set a mug in front of Marco.
“What is it?” Marco asked him.
Jake took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t think the name is clandestine or anything. I think it’s pretty much what it says it is. A night of games.”
“What kind of games? Not Candy Land?”
Peyton and Jake frowned at him.
“Candy Land?” asked Peyton.
“I don’t know. That’s what Tag thought.”
Jake settled the mug on the table. “Ooo, what if it’s Truth or Dare?”
“Truth or Dare?” asked Peyton.
“Like junior high school girls play?” questioned Marco.
Jake shrugged.
“Leave it to you, Ryder, to know about that.”
“Well, what if it is? You might pick truth and then I’d have to ask you if you and Peyton are…you know? And what would you say? Or…” He pointed at Marco with his fork. “You might say dare and then you’d have to spend ten minutes in a closet making out with Abe.”
Peyton laughed.
Marco glared at her.
She pushed herself to her feet. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
Marco wasn’t sure about that at all.
“Well, I’ve got a report to write.” She reached over and ruffled Jake’s hair, then walked out of the break room.
Marco lifted his mug and took a sip.
“Listen, Adonis. I need to talk to you about something.”
Marco lowered the mug.
Jake poked his fork into the cake, smoothing down his hair with his other hand. “My sister Faith found a job for me in Nebraska.”
Marco studied him. Jake glanced up and then looked back at the cake.
“In a bank?”
He nodded.
“Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it, but now that you and Peyton are…” He gave a lift of his brows. “I figure it might be a good time to make a move. It’s just…”
“Just?”
“I don’t know. The thing with Peyton spooked me. It was too much like my wife. Am I considering this because I got scared or do I really want to move back home? I mean it would be easier to live out there because of the cost of living, and it’d probably be safer. Besides, I have family there. But…” He dropped the fork on the plate. “I’d be leaving everything I know out here, all of my friends, a career.”
Marco thought for a moment. He was so not good at this sort of thing. Why did people keep trying to make him something he wasn’t? “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to ask yourself what you really want. Do you want a safe job that isn’t a challenge or do you want a job where you might save a life, give someone closure? A job where you’re needed?”
Jake met his gaze. Then he nodded.
Marco curled his fingers in the handle of his mug. “Do me a favor, okay?”
“Okay?”
“Don’t tell Peyton about this until you’ve made your decision.”
“Why?”
He pushed himself to his feet, picking up his coffee mug. “For some reason she’s fond of you and she doesn’t need any more crap right now.”
Jake gave a sarcastic laugh. “Fine, I’ll keep it under my hat. Really good to have this heart to heart with you, Adonis.”
“What do you want from me, Ryder? You wanna do each other’s nails?” He moved to walk out into the precinct.
“I was thinking we’d braid each other’s hair,” Jake shouted after him.
Marco hesitated as Peyton looked up and Tag swiveled in her chair to stare at him. He shrugged and continued on to his cubicle. “Idiot,” he muttered under his breath.
* * *
Maria served tri-tip, baked potatoes, and grilled zucchini in foil packets with garlic, butter and onions. For Marco, she’d grilled some veggie burgers, then she’d set up chairs around the coffee table, so everyone could eat together. Abe served a layered drink called Witches Brew. The top layer was red, but as it graduated to the bottom of the glass it became green. He’d even placed a swizzle stick inside that looked like a witch’s broom. He sternly informed Peyton she could only have one. Not that she’d been inclined to have more. Something named Witches Brew had to be a hangover waiting to happen.
Maria had the house decorated for Halloween. When Peyton asked her why she’d done that in early September, Maria told her the house needed something to spruce it up. Peyton wasn’t sure how skulls and bats spruced anything up, but Maria informed her that the decor went with all the cobwebs in the corners. After that, Peyton gave up. She was clearly a guest in her own home.
Larry Junior was excited to see her, but after an initial greeting, he settled by Jake’s chair, resting his head on Jake’s foot. Peyton was glad to see him adapting so quickly.
“Larry Junior looks great, Jake,” she said, smiling as Jake gave him a bite of tri-tip.
Jake reached down and scratched the dog’s head. Larry Junior’s tail thumped the floor. “It’s amazing what some brushing and a little food can do.”
“And a whole lot of baby talk,” said Cho, giving Marco a disgusted look.
“Well, he’s my widdle biddy doggy,” said Jake. The tail thumping got louder.
Peyton smiled.
“Such a stupid name,” grumbled Marco.
“What?”
“Larry Junior. Who the hell names a dog Larry Junior?”
“I’ve tried other names out, but nothing fits. Duke? Too butch.”
“Yeah, that’s a problem,” said Tag.
“Rex. Come on, that’s not even trying.”
“What about Thumper with the way he wags his tail?” suggested Peyton.
Marco gave her a grimace.
She shrugged.
“I think he should be Bandit,” said Maria, making smooching noises at him. “Because he stole my heart with his widdle baby kisses.”
“See what I mean,” said Cho to Marco.
Marco laughed, but Maria punched Cho in the arm.
“Oh, lord, do I have to do everything for you people?” said Abe, setting his plate on the coffee table and rising. He wore a black suit jacket with a red bowtie and black and white wing-tip shoes. His dreads were gathered into a ponytail behind his head. If Peyton looked close enough, she thought she could faintly see skulls in the fabric of the suit.
He went into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. They could hear him ru
mmaging around. Jake glanced over at Peyton, but she shrugged. A moment later he came back into the living room and dumped a bag in Jake’s lap.
Jake lifted it, frowning. “Tater Tots?” he asked as Abe took a seat again, then he looked over at Peyton.
“Tater Tot,” they said together. Larry Junior’s tail thumped madly.
“Of course, guy from Nebraska names his dog Tater,” said Marco, shaking his head.
Maria laughed and rose to her feet, gathering everyone’s plate. “You had enough, Marco baby?” she asked, reaching for his.
“Yes, thank you. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
“Do you have to flirt with him when I’m sitting right here?” complained Cho.
“Yes, I do. A little jealousy keeps a relationship running smoothly. Remember that,” she said to Peyton. “And conditioner. Conditioner helps.”
Peyton touched her curls.
Maria swung around to Tag. “And no brown.”
Tag opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Abe made a grunt of agreement. “Brown is never a good look.”
“But skulls on a suit are?” said Tag through gritted teeth.
Abe motioned down his body. “I own this, sister.” He airily waved a hand at Tag’s brown jeans and crewneck t-shirt. “That just screams I give up.”
Tag started forward, but Peyton put a hand on her arm. “What about the game, Abe? What are we playing?”
Marco and Cho groaned, while Tag slid back in her chair, reaching for her drink and downing the remainder. Abe clapped his hands, then grabbed a bag that sat next to him by the couch. He pulled out a blue box and deposited it in the middle of the table.
“Trivia Pursuit,” he said happily. “I thought we’d do gender against gender. Of course, I’ll be the M.C. and read the questions for each team. What do you say?”
“It sounds good,” said Peyton, smiling brightly. “Jake, move over to the couch, so you’re near the guys and Maria, come take Jake’s chair.”
Abe unboxed the game as they moved seats. Jake picked up a card that listed the categories, and he and Cho studied it together.
“I can do Geography and History,” said Jake.
“I’ll take Arts & Literature, and I’m pretty good with Entertainment,” said Cho, pointing at the card.
“I got Sports & Leisure, and we can both probably do Science & Nature…” They paused and looked over at Marco, lounging in the recliner.
Marco glowered at them.
“You can answer the football questions, Adonis,” said Jake.
“Yeah, football,” said Cho.
“Idiots,” he said.
Peyton glanced at her teammates, but neither of them seemed inclined to break up the categories with her.
“Ladies go first,” said Abe, reaching for the dice and passing it to Peyton. She shook it. In for a penny, in for a pound. Her roll landed her on Science & Nature. Abe grabbed a card with a flourish.
“What does the M stand for in E=MC2?”
Peyton’s eyes widened. Shit. This was going to be a long night.
“Come on, Brooks,” said Maria, hitting her shoulder. “You gotta know this.”
“Why do I gotta know this?”
“You went to college.”
“Community college.”
“Come on. I don’t like to lose, Brooks!”
“Well, you can answer too. It’s for all of us.” She looked at Tag, but she simply bit her lower lip.
“It’s Einstein,” Tag offered.
“Thank you. That helps so freakin’ much,” Peyton said, glancing at Jake. He had a smug smile on his face. The bastard knew it. Think, she told herself. “E=MC2. E equals M. M?” She gripped the arms of her chair. “E is energy, so M equals…”
Jake leaned forward.
She gave him a challenging smile. “Mass.”
“Right!” said Abe, reaching for a piece of pie.
Maria and Tag whooped in joy as Jake and Cho slumped back on the couch. Peyton made eye contact with Marco and he gave her a nod with his chin. From there on the questions volleyed back and forth. As she figured, Jake was a strong player, knowing more random crap than anyone needed to know, but she surprised herself with her own knowledge.
She and Tag got What woman was arrested for voting for president in the 1872 election? Together they came up with Susan B. Anthony. Then Maria answered What future sitcom megastar began wearing her hair red in 1942 with Lucille Ball. Finally, both teams were down to their last pie piece. The women needed Sports & Leisure and the men lacked Art & Literature. Jake rolled the dice and finally landed on the right square.
“For the game,” said Abe, withdrawing a card. “Which artistic movement was founded by Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso?”
Jake’s face fell and Cho scrunched up his forehead, pressing his hand to his temple.
“Read it again,” said Jake.
“Which artistic movement was founded by Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso?” repeated Abe.
Jake gave Cho a panicked look. Cho shook his head.
“They don’t have it,” said Maria.
“Shh,” hissed Jake. “Let us think.”
Peyton glanced over at Marco. He hadn’t said anything and he hadn’t bothered to answer any of the questions, not after their comment about him answering just the football questions. Every piece of pie had been earned by Cho and Jake themselves. He met her look and gave her a wink.
She smiled and looked down.
“Which artistic movement?” repeated Jake. “Name some artistic movements.”
Cho wildly shook his head. “I can’t. My mind just went blank.”
“Okay. We can figure this out. Picasso did what? When did he paint?”
“Early 20th century,” said Cho.
“Okay, so that had to be…”
“What?” snapped Cho.
“I don’t know.”
“Is that your answer?” asked Abe.
Jake looked helplessly at his partner. “I’m drawing a blank.”
“So am I.”
Marco exhaled in disgust. “It’s Cubism,” he grumbled.
Jake’s eyes whipped to his face.
“Beautiful and intelligent,” said Abe, reaching for the piece of pie. “The men win.”
Maria and Tag groaned, but Peyton couldn’t help but give Marco a pleased smile.
“Wow, I underestimated you, Adonis,” said Jake, leaning back on the couch.
“Suck it, Ryder,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. He stretched, giving Peyton a pointed look. “It’s getting late. You still have to take Tag home.”
“Yeah,” she said, rising also. “Thanks for dinner, Maria.”
“My pleasure. So when do you think you’ll be coming home?”
Peyton drew a deep breath and held it. “Soon.”
Maria narrowed her eyes. “Soon? Aren’t you getting sick of your mother’s place?”
“Yeah, but…”
“But?”
“But, nothing. I’ll be back soon.”
Jake made a scoffing sound, but Peyton ignored him. She would have kicked him, but the table was in the way.
“Let’s go, Tag,” she said, starting for the door.
CHAPTER 10
Peyton found herself in a cavernous room. She could sense the vastness of it, but it was difficult to see. The power was out and there were no windows to let natural light into the interior. She crouched against a metal shelving unit, holding her gun braced in both hands. Sounds echoed around her, footsteps that seemed near and yet far – she couldn’t orient herself, but her heart was pounding violently beneath her ribs, trying to force its way out of her body.
Her radio cracked at her shoulder and she reached up, silencing it. Her hands felt slick with nervous sweat, but she was afraid to loosen her hold on the gun to wipe it away. She brushed at a curl that tickled her cheek with her forearm, but the motion made the shelves rattle beside her. She went still
, holding her breath, straining her eyes to see in the darkness, to hear any sound of footsteps approaching.
“Come out now!” came a voice, male, chilling, almost mocking her.
She drew a deep breath and tightened her grip on the gun. She couldn’t lose nerve now. Everything depended on her being able to pull the trigger when she needed to. She heard the shuffle of something heavy moving across the floor, coming closer to her.
She had no intention of being taken this way, of waiting for him to get the drop on her. She wasn’t going down like this. Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to wait until the shuffling grew closer, close enough that she could see a shifting of the darkness just beyond her hiding spot.
Sucking in a wild breath, she rose out of her crouch, leveled the gun, and fired. She caught a motion in the darkness, a jerking of light and shadow, and then a heavy crash. She braced the gun with both hands and edged away from the shelves, moving toward the sprawled form lying a few feet away from her.
As she approached, she reached out and kicked a boot clad foot. No response. She moved closer still, searching in the darkness for the head. Sliding up beside the body, she leaned over his prone form. A beam of light from one of the windows on the second floor fell across his eyes. They stared back at her, unblinking, unfocused, dead. Blue eyes.
Blue eyes. Like Marco’s.
Peyton jerked awake, catching the sob before it could escape her. Beside her, Marco shifted on the bed, but he didn’t wake. Peyton tented her knees and sank her fingers into her hair at the temples. Damn it, she thought, nothing was getting better.
She grabbed his jersey and pulled it on, then threw back the covers and slid out of bed, trying hard not to disturb him. She padded in bare feet across the room, carefully avoiding Pickles in his dog bed, and slipped into the living room. Going to the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of the dishwasher and filled it with water, then took a sip, trying to calm the rapid flutter of her heart.
Murder on Treasure Island (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 7) Page 16