“Like what?”
“Like about how Jake and now Maria are living here.”
“What does that have to do with O’Shannahan?”
“It shows that you have a weakness when it comes to victims of crime. And she’s gonna bring up Ravensong.”
“Why?”
“Because you insisted on pursuing the case when you had a viable suspect in him. She’s gonna ask you if anything happened between the two of you.”
“What?”
“We know you visited him without his lawyer at the rehab facility.”
Peyton didn’t think it was a good idea to mention she’d also spent the night. “Nothing happened between us.”
“Are you sure?”
Peyton looked away, reaching for her wine glass.
“Peyton?”
She exhaled. “He kissed me.”
Devan closed his eyes.
“It was after the case was over, and it was just a kiss.”
“Wasn’t he living with someone?”
“Yeah, but the kiss didn’t mean anything.”
“Really?”
“Well, it was mostly gratitude.”
“So there was no sexual tension between you?”
Peyton didn’t know how to answer that.
“Peyton?”
“He isn’t going to be there, is he?”
“I don’t think so. I think he’s on tour or something, but what if he is? Is this a problem for us?”
“No. Kristin O’Shannahan killed Teresa Ravensong and confessed to the murder. There’s no disputing that. Then O’Shannahan helped her destroy the evidence.”
“This isn’t Kristin O’Shannahan’s trial. This is Jedediah O’Shannahan, puppet master extraordinaire. And ranking right behind him is Elizabeth Brown.”
“Then maybe you should have Marco testify.”
“Marco doesn’t testify well.”
“How so?”
“Really, Peyton?” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Have you ever talked with Marco?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying…” He paused, reaching for his wine. He drained the glass.
“What are you saying?”
“He’s not exactly the most loquacious man.”
“Loquacious?”
“Talkative.”
“I know what it means.” She could feel irritation feather along her skin. “He testifies just fine.”
“Why do you think I rely on you?”
“I don’t know, since apparently you don’t trust me.”
“Please don’t be offended, but Marco isn’t exactly the brains in this partnership.”
“That’s low, even for you, Devan.”
“I’m just telling you the truth. I’m not saying he isn’t good at what he does, but what he does is…”
Peyton rose to her feet. “Is what?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, I really think I want to hear it.”
“He’s the muscle, Peyton. That’s what he is.”
Peyton pointed to the door. “Get out.”
“What? Peyton, come on.”
“No. Get out.”
Jake shifted on the couch, looking over at them. At the same time, the door opened and Marco appeared in the entrance. Devan shot a glance at him, then focused on Peyton.
“I didn’t mean for you to get offended. I was just being honest. You gotta admit I have a point, Peyton.”
“I think you’re an uptight ass, Devan, and I want you to leave.”
“Peyton, please.”
“She better not have to tell you again,” said Marco in that low, dangerous tone of his.
Devan rose to his feet. “This is why we would never have worked.”
Peyton shook her head. “What the hell does that mean?”
Devan gave a grim laugh. “Really? You really don’t know what I mean?”
“No, but here’s the thing, Devan. You think you’re so freakin’ smart, but you don’t get it. You play with people, you manipulate them. You accuse O’Shannahan and Elizabeth Brown of being puppet masters, but you’re one yourself.”
“I still need you to testify.”
“And I will. At least I know my job.”
He sighed and turned away, walking toward the door. He had to squeeze past Marco to get out. Once he was gone, Marco shut and locked the door.
“You okay?” asked Jake.
Marco met her gaze.
She drew a deep breath and released it. Was she okay? Hell, yes. Throwing Devan out had finally released her from that last bit of hope she had that they might have been something good together.
She walked to the counter and poured herself another glass of wine. “I’m just fine,” she told him. “Want some wine? It’s from Napa and it’s freakin’ awesome.”
Jake laughed and slumped back on the couch, turning to watch the game. “Nope, I’m good.”
She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, watching Marco over the rim. “What about you, handsome?”
He gave her a wry smile and came forward, kissing her on the forehead. “I’m good too,” he said.
CHAPTER 8
Marco and Peyton jogged into the park again on Sunday morning. They made it to Stow Lake and jogged along the paths that ran around the perimeter of it. Young families were already there, bicycling or roller skating. A few people had pedal boats out on the lake, lazily meandering beneath the branches of the redwood and eucalyptus trees.
After their run, they stopped in the café and grabbed a piroshki, one of the few places that offered vegetarian selections, then sat outside and watched the ducks bob up and down with the late morning breeze.
Marco’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out, thumbing on the display. A text message from Vinnie greeted him. Dinner, Mom’s, tonight. He sighed.
Peyton glanced over. “Everything all right?”
“Mom’s having her Sunday dinner. I have to go.”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine for a few hours.”
“No way, lady. You’re coming with me. I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I’m sure your family just wants to see you, Marco.”
“They’d probably rather see you. Besides, if I have to go on a date with Stan, you can go to dinner with me.”
She laughed. “I don’t think the punishment fits the crime, since I love your family.”
“Good. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
Peyton nodded.
While he texted Vinnie back, she took out her own phone and placed a call.
Marco shifted on the bench and watched a little boy chase after a duck, an entire loaf of bread in his hands. His father trotted along behind him. Something about watching them made Marco feel a bit melancholy.
“Hey, Cho,” said Peyton into the phone. “Yeah, just wondering if you’ve been by the precinct this weekend?”
Marco glanced over at her.
“Yeah, I know. No.” She sighed. “I was hoping there’d be something. Yeah, you’re right. He probably does know Jake’s not there. I know. It’s just this quiet makes me nervous. What’s he waiting for?” She listened. “I know. I don’t want anyone else to die either, but I want to get this bastard and I want to get him now.”
“Ask him if he mentioned anything to Bill.”
“Hey, did you say anything to Bill about our theory?” She played with the paper shield on her coffee. “Right. Yeah, okay. Hey, tell Maria that Marco and I will be gone tonight. We’re going to dinner at his folks. Okay, yeah, see you tomorrow.”
She pushed the button to disconnect the call and lowered it. “I don’t like this, Marco. The Janitor’s been too quiet.”
“How so? He killed Junior Walker only a week ago.”
“You’re right.” She rolled her shoulders. “I just feel like we’re standing on the edge of a volcano and it’s about to erupt.”
Marco couldn’t
help but shoot a look around them. Suddenly he felt like they were a bit too exposed. “Maybe we should get back.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Did he tell Bill our theory?”
“Defino cleared him to do so.”
“And?”
“He can’t believe it’s anyone in our precinct either.”
Marco placed his hand over hers. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
She nodded, shifting her hand to clasp his briefly.
* * *
Mona D’Angelo pulled Peyton into a hug the moment she entered the house. “I’m so glad you came, sweetheart,” she said, kissing her cheek.
Peyton hugged her in return.
“It’s been too long.” She cupped Peyton’s face in her hands. “You need to come every Sunday. You’re looking thin.”
Peyton had to laugh at that one. After the constant barrage of complaints about her weight from Maria, she was beginning to think she could join the circus as the fat lady. “You are the best, Mona,” she said, kissing her cheek in return.
Mona released her, only for her to be captured by Marco’s father, Leo. He gave her a bear hug, then tugged on a curl.
“My favorite policewoman,” he said.
She smiled, glancing up at Vinnie. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “How you doing, sweetie?” he rumbled beneath her ear.
“Good and you?”
“Excellent.”
“How’s Tonio?”
“Out of rehab and thinking about going back to football.”
“Good. Is he here?”
“Nope. Both kids had last minute summer parties to attend. Just the grown-ups tonight.”
Rosa came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Peyton? Come in here and have a glass of wine with me.” She crossed the room and kissed Peyton on the cheek, then pulled Marco out of his mother’s arms and gave him a hug, going up on her tiptoes to reach. Releasing him, she hooked Peyton’s arm and tugged her toward the kitchen.
Peyton glanced over her shoulder at her partner, but Marco simply gave her a shrug before he was dragged into the living room.
“Bernardo and his family couldn’t make it. They took the kids to Disneyland before school starts,” said Mona, pouring Peyton a glass of red wine and passing it to her. “And Franco has something at the church. He’s going over their books for them while Sofia helps with the catechism, snacks or something. So it’ll just be the few of us tonight.”
Few? With the D’Angelos that meant something along the lines of Peyton’s current housing arrangement.
“It’s great. What are you making?”
“I’m trying a new recipe. We thought we’d eat light. Potato soup and a salad for my boy.” Mona leaned on the counter. “He still doing that vegetarian nonsense?”
Peyton laughed. That nonsense had been most of Marco’s adult life, but she didn’t think it mattered to Mona.
“Yeah, he’s still doing that nonsense.”
Mona shook her head and grabbed her wine.
Rosa shared a smile with Peyton.
“How’s your mom, dear?” asked Mona.
“My mom?” Wow, that was a loaded question. “Uh, she’s fine. Thinking about getting married again.”
“Good for her,” said Mona. “A woman shouldn’t be alone.”
Peyton didn’t know about that. Some women were a hell of a lot better off alone.
“Not every woman needs a man, Mona,” said Rosa, chopping a cucumber.
“Can I help?” asked Peyton, wanting to change the subject.
Mona waved her off. “You work too hard, sweetheart. Let us get this.”
Peyton’s brows lifted, but she didn’t argue.
“Okay, I agree not every woman needs a man, but she needs someone. Humans are social creatures. We need other people.” Mona pointed her spoon at Peyton. “Am I right?”
“Uh…” Peyton wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Rosa winked at her. “Sometimes it isn’t bad to be alone, Mona. You get to know who you are then.”
“Pfft,” Mona said, stirring the soup vigorously.
Vinnie entered the kitchen, going to the refrigerator and pulling out three beers. “How much longer?” He reached around Rosa and snatched a cucumber spear. She swatted at him, but he simply squeezed her hind-end, earning him another swat.
Peyton couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re gonna pull back a stump if you do that again,” Rosa warned.
In answer, Vinnie squeezed her bum once more, then danced away, hiding behind Peyton when Rosa went after him. Placing his hands on Peyton’s shoulders, he ducked back and forth as Rosa tried to slap him with a dishtowel.
Peyton laughed.
Mona gave her son a severe frown. “Maybe you’re right, Rosa.”
“Right about what?” asked Vinnie.
“Women not needing men.” When he reached for another cucumber, Mona smacked the back of his hand. “You ask when we’re eating in my kitchen again and you’ll get nothing.”
Vinnie gave her a pout, then gathered his beers and left the room.
Rosa went back to chopping. “How do you feel about your mom getting married?”
Peyton ran a finger around the top of her wineglass. “I told her to do it if it made her happy.”
Rosa and Mona gave her a sympathetic look. Peyton dropped her eyes. She didn’t want to talk about her mother, especially not in this family where their bonds with each other meant everything.
Rosa reached over and filled her glass again.
Once dinner was ready, everyone gathered around the dining room table. Before they could eat, Mona led them in a prayer. Peyton had eaten at the D’Angelo household many times, but something about eating with them today made her feel sad.
She truly believed a woman didn’t need a man, and that a bad relationship was far worse than no relationship at all, but still, something about a big family called to her. Her own family had consisted of three. She’d always wanted brothers and sisters, cousins to play with. Watching Marco and his brother rib each other, she felt that emptiness acutely.
When she’d been forced to have sessions with Dr. Ferguson, the precinct psychologist, he’d mentioned that she used her friends as her ersatz family. She’d denied it then, but maybe he had something. Maybe she did do that. Maybe that’s why her house was a freakin’ circus right now and she didn’t mind it.
Maybe she was tired of being alone.
Marco’s gaze lifted and fixed on her. He gave her his slow, sexy smile and it struck her how damn handsome he was. Shaking her head, she reached for her wine and took a sip. Shit, what the hell was wrong with her?
She didn’t have time to worry it though, because her phone suddenly buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket, excusing herself from the table. Nate Cho’s number flashed on the screen and she pressed the button to answer the call.
“Hey, Nate.”
“Brooks, where are you?”
“At Marco’s parents.”
Cho blew out air. “Look, I need you to come down to a condo on Clay.”
“Clay?”
“Yeah, I’m sending you the address right now.”
“Clay? Nob Hill?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“We got a guy hanging from his dining room chandelier.”
Peyton felt her mouth go dry. Marco left the table and came over to her. “Is there a card?” she asked.
“In his bound hands.”
Closing her eyes, she ducked her head. “Did you call Jake?”
“He’s my next call.”
“Do you know who the man is?”
“Yeah. Peyton, it’s one of the council members, a district supervisor by the name of Simon Olsen. He used to be the commander for the Ingleside Station. Defino wants Marco here too. He’s not undercover anymore.”
“Send me the address. We’re on our way.”
* * *
Councilman Olsen’s townhouse was an ultra-modern, upscale three bedroom in a high rise on the corner of Van Ness and Clay. The lobby of the building was swarming with police when Peyton and Marco arrived, and they were immediately escorted to the mirrored elevators, which rose to the eighth floor.
The townhouse’s open-concept design was punctuated by windows that took in the City’s skyline on three of its four sides. Decorated in a white on white motif, the furnishings were crisp, angular, and minimalistic.
Cho and Simons met them in the entryway. Cho took Peyton’s arm and pulled her to the side. “It’s bad. Why don’t you wait here and let Marco take a look?’
She gently extricated herself. “I’m a big girl, Nate.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Suit yourself, but I’m guessing they don’t want to clean up vomit off their pristine white marble floors.”
“I don’t think the Councilman will be cleaning up anything if he’s dangling from a noose.” She stepped away from the men and walked boldly into the center of the vaulted room. A sleek chandelier hung above a dining room table and hanging from the chandelier was a man.
He was turned away from her, so Peyton couldn’t see his face, still it was bad enough to watch his slow oscillations. She took in the sight, breathing through her nose to chase back the instant rise of nausea. No way was she giving in to her weakness now. “Who found him?” she asked Cho.
“Neighbor heard a struggle and reported it to the front desk. Guard knocked on the door, but heard banging, so he went down and called the cops. When they finally forced their way into the townhouse, they found him there.”
“Was anything disturbed?”
“Yeah, the living room’s a mess.” Cho pointed to their right.
Peyton could see overturned tables and chairs, and a smashed blue crystal vase.
Marco moved past her toward the body, walking around the table to see his face. Peyton forced herself to follow. Holmes and Bartlet were standing to the side, and Bartlet looked like he was about to be sick, staring at the body with a horrified expression on his face.
“Drew,” Peyton said, nodding at Bartlet. “Take him outside to get some air.”
Holmes gave an aggravated sigh, then pushed Bartlet in the shoulder. “You need to go with us too, princess?”
Murder in the Presidio (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 6) Page 11