Murder in the Presidio (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 6)

by M. L. Hamilton

  Abe made a face, then turned to Brian. “Fisherman’s Wharf?”

  Brian shook his head. “Too touristy.”

  “Brian’s right. We need to go clubbing.” Abe motioned for Marco to sign in. “You know how she loves to dance.”

  Marco hated to dance, he hated the whole club scene, and he really didn’t understand why they couldn’t do something a little less loud. “Fine. We’ll go clubbing.” Then he hesitated and pointed the pen at Abe. “But not on Castro.”

  Abe started to open his mouth, but Marco punctuated it with another stab of the pen. “Or Polk.”

  “Fine.” He held out his hands. “See, we can compromise.”

  Marco didn’t think there’d been much compromise, but with people like Abe and Peyton in his life, he didn’t expect it.

  * * *

  Peyton looked up from her half-eaten sandwich as Devan stepped inside the break-room. He beamed a smile at her, appearing pressed and polished in his Armani suit. She pushed the sandwich away and swiped her fingers beneath her eyes, hoping the dark circles weren’t noticeable.

  “Not hungry?” he asked, sliding into the chair across from her.

  “Not much.” She kept waiting for Defino to get Junior Walker’s autopsy report all day. It made her jumpy as a kangaroo. Somehow she had to stop Defino from having Marco arrested before the Ballistics report came back.

  “Do you have a few minutes to talk about Jedediah O’Shannahan?”

  Peyton exhaled. That was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. “I guess.”

  He plucked the pickle out of the sandwich paper and took a bite. “I remember you’re not too fond of pickles.”

  “To cuddle, yes, to eat, not so much.”

  Devan chuckled. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to discuss Marco or anything else of a personal nature with him.

  “Don’t you have a birthday coming up soon?”

  Why was everyone fixated on her birthday all of a sudden? “The first week of September.”

  “That’s only a week away.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Big one, right?”

  She looked down, folding the corner on the sandwich wrapper. “Yeah, thirty.”

  “I liked thirty.”

  “You would.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Men like those milestone ages.” Except Marco hadn’t. He’d been bothered by it, same as she was. Thirty and neither one of them had anything to show for it – no spouse, no children, nothing but a job that made one age prematurely.

  “Are you doing anything for it?”

  “I don’t know.” Then she remembered her date. “Um, yeah, I’m going to dinner with Stan.”

  “Stan? Neumann?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stan Neumann, the tech geek?”

  Peyton felt herself bristle at his assessment of Stan. “Yeah, he’s a nice guy.”

  “Sure he is.”

  “He is, and he’s smart as hell.”

  Devan gave her a smug smile. She wished she was ballsy enough to wash it off with a good old fashioned slap across the face, but she wasn’t.

  “And he doesn’t run hot and cold,” she added.

  “Do you mean me?”

  She gave him a grim smile.

  “I don’t run hot and cold.”

  “Really? If I remember right, you broke it off with me because I didn’t call you when I got shot at, then you got engaged to another woman, but the minute it got too real, you asked me out to dinner and postponed your engagement. Before you feign superiority over Stan, you might want to take a look in the mirror.”

  “Feign?”

  “I know things.”

  “I never said you didn’t.” His look was a bit sultrier than she liked.

  She chewed her bottom lip. Shit. He’d told her he liked women who challenged him and here she was challenging him. Poor Runny Misery was never going to land her lawyer this way. She needed to get them back on track. “You wanted to talk about O’Shannahan?”

  “We were.”

  “What?”

  “He gets under your skin the same way I just did. I want to make sure you’ll fight back.”

  Oh, he was good. “Very clever, Mr. Adams.”

  “I know things,” he said with a smirk.

  She smiled in return. He leaned forward, pushing the sandwich at her. “Look, Peyton, I don’t know all of what’s going on, but I know things have been hard lately. I can see it’s telling on you, but you’re a fighter and I want to see you fighting again. Start by finishing this sandwich. You can’t afford to get sick right now.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll talk to you in a few days, okay?” He rose to his feet.

  She glanced up at him. “That’s all? I thought you wanted to go over my testimony.”

  “We will. I just wanted to light a fire under you first.” He nodded at her lunch. “Promise me you’ll eat.”

  “I’ll eat,” she said.

  “Good. I’ll talk to you soon.” He turned for the door.

  “Devan?”

  He stopped and looked back at her.

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching for the half she hadn’t touched.

  “You’re welcome,” he answered and disappeared from view.

  * * *

  Marco pulled open the precinct door and came to a halt as Devan stepped past the half-door and into the lobby.

  “D’Angelo,” he said.

  “Adams,” Marco returned.

  “You back at work?”

  Marco wasn’t sure how to answer that. He definitely wasn’t back at work, but he wasn’t arrested either. “Not yet.”

  “Well, good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  They gave each other a nod, then passed without saying anything else.

  Maria winked at him as he stopped in front of her desk. “How you doing, baby?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Managing.” He looked further into the precinct. “Where’s Peyton?”

  “She was in the break-room last I saw.”

  He nodded toward Defino’s closed door. “Captain in?”

  “Yeah, she’s on the phone, but I’m sure she wants to see you. Go on in.”

  He gave her an anxious smile, then walked to Defino’s door, wrapping lightly with his knuckles. He could hear her raised voice on the other side.

  “Enter,” she shouted.

  Marco nudged the door open and stepped inside. She turned from her blind-covered window, the phone pressed to the side of her head, and glared at him, then she pointed to the chairs in front of her desk.

  He eased into one, keeping his eyes on her.

  “I need that report by this afternoon. Right, I know. Right, but I got a serial killer just waiting to open up on us and I need all hands on deck.” She listened, glaring at him the entire time, then she let out her breath in relief. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

  Marco rubbed a hand along his jaw. He’d forgotten to shave this morning, he’d been so intent on cornering Abe.

  Defino placed the phone back on the cradle and leaned on her desk. “Why do I have an autopsy report that says Junior Walker was shot with a .40 caliber?”

  Marco lowered his hand. “I didn’t kill Junior Walker, Captain.”

  “The only reason you aren’t in handcuffs right now is because I believe you.”

  Marco nodded, looking away.

  She sank into her desk chair, staring at the report on the black blotter. “I can’t tell you how important it is that the Ballistics report comes back clean. You’re sure you didn’t go target practicing or anything like that?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “They’ll get me the report first thing tomorrow morning. You should go home and stay there. I’ll call you as soon as I get it.”

  “Captain, I’m not here about the report.”

  She drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Why do I feel like I’
m not going to like this?”

  “You’re not.”

  She motioned at him. “Give it to me.”

  He shifted his bulk in the chair. He hated these chairs. They forced the body into unnatural angles. “I think the Janitor is someone in the precinct.”

  Sometimes silence felt like weight. He glanced up at Defino, but it was as if she’d gone to stone.

  “Captain?”

  “What did you say?”

  He dragged his teeth across his lower lip. “It makes sense. He’s been one step ahead of us the entire time. He knows our weaknesses and our strengths. He’s playing us.”

  “Someone in my precinct is the Janitor?” Her voice carried a dangerous edge.

  “It’s the only explanation I can find. How else did he know about Junior Walker?”

  “Junior Walker? No Clean-up Crew cards were found on Junior Walker.”

  “We didn’t respond to that call, Captain. Maybe the responding department missed it. Jake hasn’t been out there to canvass the crime scene.”

  “Why would you think Junior Walker’s death is related to the Clean-up Crew killer?”

  “He was shot execution style, just like the first victim, Wayne Kimbro.”

  “Same caliber bullet?”

  Marco shook his head. “9mm.”

  She held out her hand.

  “The security guard on Alcatraz was shot with a 9mm, and the priest had a 9mm floating around in his brain. Maybe he switched guns.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “To get me out of the equation.”

  Defino’s head lifted. “Why do I think I’m going to like the next part even less than the first?”

  “Because you’re not. I think Peyton’s the real target.”

  “Peyton?”

  Marco scratched his forehead. The tension in Defino’s office itched along his skin. “He’s killing child molesters, now wife beaters, people the police have had a notoriously hard time putting away for good. The system isn’t built to protect people from such predators. It’s every cop’s nightmare and especially a cop like Peyton.”

  “Who has a Christ complex.”

  “Exactly.”

  “He shot the priest on Alcatraz when she was in danger.”

  Marco waited while she put things together.

  Her eyes shifted and pinned him. “He threatened to shoot her on Pier 39 though. That’s how he controlled Jake, and through Jake, us.”

  “I know. And he may have put a bullet in the priest’s head, but he also put a gun in his hand and turned him loose on her.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does if you think about it. If he made the killings to impress Peyton, it would have pissed him off that she joined the case herself. He’s sick, Captain. Clearly he’s not thinking rationally, so one minute he feels betrayed by her and puts her in harm’s way, the next he wants to protect her.”

  “Which is why you think he offed Junior Walker?”

  “Exactly.”

  Defino lifted both hands and rubbed them across her eyes. “And to know how Peyton’s mind works, you have to know Peyton.”

  Marco nodded.

  Defino dropped her hands in her lap. “So what are these killings? Offerings to her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like a cat bringing you half a mouse?”

  “Something like that, yeah.”

  “I have to pull her off the case.”

  “You can’t.”

  She gave him a bewildered look.

  “He may be insane, but he’s smart, Captain. You take Brooks off the case and he’s gonna guess something’s up. Our only chance is to flush him out before anyone else dies.”

  “Does she know your theory?”

  “Yes, I told her last night.”

  “Who else have you told?”

  “Only Jake and Abe. I had to run it past someone before I brought it to you.”

  “And you don’t think either of them could be it?”

  “Abe, Captain?”

  “Okay, not Abe, but we suspected Ryder before.”

  “Yeah, we really had our heads up our asses on that one.”

  “D’Angelo!”

  He shrugged.

  After a moment, she exhaled. “Yeah, you’re right.” Then her expression grew hard. “Tell no one else.”

  “Of course not.”

  She shook her head. “I just can’t believe it’s someone in my precinct. I just can’t believe that.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  Marco shook his head.

  “How can I leave her out there? What if he swings back the other way and gets pissed at her again? He might hurt her one of these times. Or worse.”

  “That’s why you need to get me reinstated, Captain.”

  “I knew you were going to say that. Funny how that strengthens your bid to remain her partner.”

  “It’s also the only protection she’s got.”

  “And if I put her on leave, none of us will ever know where the hell she is.”

  Marco couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t expect her to stay quiet, do you?”

  “No.” She stared at the blotter again in thought. “But I can’t reinstate you.”

  “Captain…”

  She held up a hand. “Listen to me, okay?”

  He nodded, forcing himself to sit back in his chair.

  “If I reinstate you, he might decide to do something more violent to remove you. I’ve got to keep you on leave.”

  “You can’t do that. You can’t leave her out there without someone at her back.”

  “Sometimes, D’Angelo, you don’t think with your brain, you know that?”

  He sucked in a deep breath and held it.

  “You’ll have to go undercover.”

  He gripped the arms of the chair.

  “I’ll get you another car. The Charger’s too recognizable by anyone who knows you. When she’s here at the precinct, she’s safe, but when she’s on the street, you can be right behind her.”

  “That doesn’t keep her safe at home.”

  “I know, which is why you’ll have to move in with her.”

  Marco went still. “What?”

  “You spend most of your time at her house anyway, right? Just keep a low profile when you’re there and leave before she does in the morning, so you can follow her into the office. I’m authorizing you to use your secondary weapon and I’m reinstating you on a limited basis. At least this way, there’ll be two guns there at night.”

  Marco looked away. How the hell was this going to work? Live with Peyton?

  “Do you think you can do this?” She gave him a speculative look.

  “Her house is a freakin’ circus, Captain.”

  “That’s not what worries me. You’ll be living in tight quarters at a level of intimacy you haven’t shared before.”

  “I know.”

  “Can you handle it?”

  “I don’t have any choice, do I?”

  “Yes, you do. I can put someone else on her.”

  “How do you know who you can trust?”

  Defino made an unhappy face. “Or we can hope that you’re wrong and there really is no connection between Junior Walker and the Janitor. How convinced are you of this?”

  “Very.”

  “Then I guess you don’t have a choice.”

  Marco scratched at his stubble again. “What sort of car are you getting me?”

  Defino laughed. “Glad you have your priorities straight.”

  * * *

  Jake walked into the house and tossed his keys in the bowl, then glanced up. Peyton and Marco were sitting in the living room and resting against the window was an olive green cot with a duffle bag on top of it.

  “What going on?” he said.

  Pickles jumped down from Peyton’s lap and raced over to him. He picked the little dog up and scratched his ears.

  “Ma
rco’s gonna stay with us for a while.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes. “As in stay…here?”

  She nodded.

  “Here?” He held out a hand indicating the crowded living room.

  Marco didn’t even bother to look up at him.

  “Maria’s gonna have to take your room and you’ll take the couch,” said Peyton.

  “The couch?”

  “For a while.”

  “When does the ring master arrive?”

  “The what?” She frowned at him.

  “We still have the kitchen counter. Maybe Abe wants that. Or remember the house across the street is up for rent. It has three bedrooms. Think of all the people we could pack in there.”

  “Jake…” she began, but Marco lifted his head.

  “There’s another solution,” he said with that smug cop attitude of his.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, we can get you a gun.”

  Jake lifted his chin.

  Suddenly it all fell into place. Marco hadn’t been speculating the other day. He really did believe the Janitor was targeting Peyton. “Does Defino know about this plan?”

  “She came up with it.”

  Jake shifted toward the door. “Where’s the Charger? I didn’t see it.”

  “It’s at my place. I have another car now, but we’re gonna try to keep that one inconspicuous.”

  “Are you reinstated?” He came around the sofa table and took a seat on the couch next to Peyton.

  “No. As far as everyone at the precinct knows, I’m still suspended.”

  Releasing Pickles, Jake glanced over his shoulder at the cot. “Nice army cot. We aren’t in basic training, are we?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “It would. It would hurt me a lot.”

  Peyton touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Jake. It shouldn’t be for long.”

  “Peyton, I’m not gonna lie. I definitely prefer seeing Maria in her skivvies every morning to Adonis here.”

  As if summoned by his comment, Maria appeared in the hallway, wearing a pair of yoga pants and a tank-top. “What the hell are you doing, Brooks? We have self-defense class tonight.”

  Peyton closed her eyes wearily.

  “You promised me we’d go.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said, pushing herself off the couch. “Just let me get changed.”

  As she disappeared into the hallway, Jake rose as well. Hesitating, he glanced down at Marco and smiled. “I’d offer you a beer, but you’ve got a self-defense class to attend, while, me, I’m gonna watch the game in bed.” He pointed to the couch.