“Yes.”
“Same temperature?”
Alice gave Peyton an uncomfortable smile and rose to her feet. “I better go check it.”
Peyton nodded and watched her go, then she slid to the end of the couch, closest to her partner. “Want that shot of tequila now?
“I want the whole freakin’ bottle.”
“Did I tell ya?”
“Yeah, but this is one that has to be experienced to fully comprehend.”
Peyton laughed. He could always make her laugh. “It’s your fault.”
“How so?”
“You are awfully pretty.”
Marco chuckled and shook his head. “I wouldn’t talk. He’s got you marrying another woman. No wonder you’re not knocked up.”
Alice returned, trailed by Cliff. She held a box in her hands wrapped in shimmering blue paper. “Here, sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to open it.”
Peyton accepted the present. “Thank you, Mama.” She settled it on her lap and began to carefully tear it open. Alice perched beside her again, watching her with anticipation and Cliff threw himself down in the recliner, stuffing his face with crackers. At least he wasn’t talking when he was eating.
Peyton pulled the wrapping paper off and reached for the lid on the box. As she opened it, she could hear the crinkle of tissue paper and smell a faint hint of her mother’s perfume. Setting the box top on the coffee table, she peeled back the tissue paper.
Nestled inside was a picture of her and her father. She remembered this photo. She’d been five, just headed off to kindergarten in Mary Janes and white stockings, wearing a navy blue cardigan and a little pleated skirt. Her mass of curls had been tamed into two huge pigtails.
Her father was in his police uniform and he was kneeling before her, his hands on her shoulders, his forehead pressed to hers. The picture had been shot in profile, but the smiles were visible on both their faces.
Peyton blinked, realizing her eyes were filled with tears. The ache of losing her father was never completely gone, but it came raging back, choking her. She carefully traced the line of his face with her fingertip, barely touching the glass. If she thought about it, she could remember this very day, how he’d told her a silly joke so she wouldn’t be scared of going to school.
“Where did you find this?” she said, blinking rapidly to chase back the tears.
Alice reached up and brushed a tear off Peyton’s cheek. “Cliff found it in the attic. It was his idea to give it to you for your birthday.”
Peyton looked over at him, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “Your daddy loved you something fierce.”
Peyton nodded.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” said Alice, but her own eyes were shimmering in tears.
“It’s priceless, Mama. I love it.”
Alice leaned forward and kissed her. “I’m glad,” she whispered.
The buzzer on the oven went off and Alice sprang to her feet. “Just let me set the table.”
“I’ll help,” said Cliff, following her.
Peyton sat staring at the picture, filled with a mixture of happiness and gut-wrenching hurt. She wasn’t sure which emotion was stronger. She felt Marco’s hand curve over her shoulder and she reached up, grasping his fingers.
“I was so scared to start school, so he told me a joke. I remember exactly what he said.” She used her free hand to wipe away the dampness beneath her eyes. “Why did the picture go to jail?”
“Why?”
“Because he was framed.”
Marco chuckled.
“Dinner,” called her mother from the kitchen.
Peyton took one last look at the photo, then covered it with tissue paper again. As they walked into the kitchen, Marco draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him for a moment, but moved away as soon as they were in view of Cliff. She didn’t need any more stupid, crass comments.
However, he seemed to settle down once they were seated around the table. Alice talked about the shop as she dished up the food and Cliff occupied himself with shoveling it into his gut, despite his protest that it was squirrel food.
Peyton’s mother had an unconscious charm about her. She was funny without really trying and her observations of people was oftentimes hysterical. Peyton found herself enjoying just listening to her, watching her engage all of them with her animation. She realized she didn’t spend enough time just observing her mother.
“So, tell me about your housemate,” Alice said, placing her chin on her hand.
“My housemate?” Peyton knew where this part of the conversation was headed.
“Jake. Have you two finally admitted your feelings for one another?”
Marco made a choking sound, drawing her attention. He fumbled for his water and took a gulp.
“Is Jake a man?” asked Cliff.
“Of course, he’s a man,” said Alice. “He’s so delightful and charming. He really cares about you, sweetheart.”
“Uh.” She felt Marco’s eyes on her. “We’re just friends.”
“Men and women can’t be friends,” said Cliff, picking up his shot glass. “That never works.”
“I don’t agree with that,” said Peyton.
“You don’t have to agree, but you know I’m right.”
“Men and women can be friends,” said Alice, “but that’s not the vibe I got when I was over there.”
Peyton shot a look at Marco. He was frowning at her.
“We’re just friends, Mama. Jake’s not my type.”
“So not her type,” echoed Marco.
Peyton found that strange. She wasn’t sure who was her type, but that didn’t mean Jake couldn’t be.
“Well, we’ll see,” said Alice. She tossed her napkin on her plate. “I have chocolate birthday cake.”
Even though she was turning thirty, Peyton couldn’t deny hearing chocolate cake sent a flush of happiness through her.
After the cake and coffee, Alice led them back into the living room and dug out an old photo album from when Peyton was in grade school. Peyton sat between Marco and her mother, looking at the old pictures and reminiscing about the past, while Cliff dozed in his recliner. All in all, it was a pleasant evening.
She kissed her mother at the door, holding her photo tightly in her arms. “Thank you for dinner, Mama.”
“Thank you for coming over. I’m so glad you found time for me.”
Peyton smiled and kissed her again. “We’ll start doing this more often.”
“I’d like that.” She caught Peyton’s cheeks in her hands and kissed her forehead. “I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
She separated herself from her mother and followed Marco down the stairs into the foggy darkness. She leaned against the Mustang as he pressed the button to unlock her door, then reached down to open it for her.
“Thank you for going with me, Marco,” she said as he straightened.
He leaned on the top of the door with his forearms. “It wasn’t that bad.”
She smiled. “Especially once Cliff fell asleep.”
Marco chuckled. “That did help.”
She clutched her present tighter. “I just don’t understand it.”
“Understand what?”
“What she sees in him? He’s so different from my father.”
Marco shrugged. “Maybe that’s why.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe when you’ve loved someone that much and you’ve lost them, maybe you look for someone completely different to fill the void.” He focused on her eyes as the fog eddied around them. “Maybe it’s the only way you can go on. You can’t stand being alone, but you don’t want to profane the memory of the person you loved.”
Peyton searched his face, those familiar features that were so dear to her, and she realized she was breathing a bit faster, her heart quickening a little. Sometimes he said things that left her speechless, lef
t her feeling a strange sort of energy from him. Sometimes it was like she was seeing a whole new person and this person…God help her…this person…
“Peyton,” he said softly, so softly it was almost a breath of sound.
She took an involuntary step closer to him, uncertain what she meant to do, but she was pulled by this strange energy between them.
“Peyton!” came a second voice.
She blinked, the moment shattered.
“Peyton!”
She looked past Marco’s shoulder to see her mother climbing down the stairs with a tin-foil wrapped bundle in her hands. She went to meet her, trying to still the racing of her heart. “What, Mama?”
“I wanted you to take the cake.” She pressed it into Peyton’s free hand. “Good night, sweetheart.” Then she hurried back to the stairs and began climbing up again.
Standing on the sidewalk before her childhood home, clutching a picture of her father and half a chocolate cake, Peyton watched her until she entered the house, realizing that she wasn’t sure how to face her partner of eight years right now, realizing that she wasn’t sure what almost happened between them.
Drawing a deep breath, she turned, but he was already crossing behind the car, reaching for the driver’s side door. Pulling the door open, he paused and looked up at her, giving her a wistful smile.
CHAPTER 14
Marco glanced up from his computer monitor and studied Peyton. She was working at her own computer, typing the report from the Irving Jones incident. She’d been quiet the entire ride into the precinct this morning, making Marco want to squirm.
He knew she’d felt the strange energy between them outside her mother’s house last night. Jake and Defino kept pressing him to tell her his feelings, but he’d almost done it and now he wished to hell he hadn’t. While she wasn’t exactly avoiding him, the easy-going camaraderie between them was strained. Why the hell hadn’t he listened to himself? He knew she didn’t feel the same way about him. He knew it and yet, he’d begun to hope that maybe things could change.
He stared unseeing at the screen. Although change would mean that he couldn’t be her partner, and that would be bad…very bad, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on pretending they were just friends.
“Brooks,” said Maria, stopping at Peyton’s desk.
Peyton glanced up.
“Defino wants you to get the white board and wheel it into the conference room, then assemble everyone. She wants to go over everything you know about the Janitor and put it on the board. The mayor’s been bugging her for updates.”
“Okay.” Peyton turned back to her computer, reaching for her mouse.
Maria walked to Marco’s side and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Defino wants to see you in her office right now, baby.”
Peyton’s gaze snapped to his face. He sucked in a deep breath. Here it was. She was going to remove him, probably suspend him again, and then ask that he be transferred to another precinct.
“I’ll go with you,” Peyton said.
He shook his head. There was nothing that could save them now.
“Marco…”
“She only wants to see him, Brooks,” said Maria, intervening.
Peyton rose to her feet as he pushed his desk chair back and stood. “This isn’t right.”
He gave her a grim smile. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? Marco, let me go with you.”
“You can’t, Peyton. Please stay here.”
She looked like she might protest, but he turned away and followed Maria to the front of the precinct. “Go on in,” said Maria, motioning toward the door.
Marco walked across those familiar tiles, feeling like he was going to his own execution. Eight years of his life spent in this department and he was going to be shunted aside like unwanted baggage. All because he’d had the misfortune to let his feelings get the better of him. Shit, this was why it was so much easier to keep everyone out. He’d been right the first time he walked through those doors. Keep everyone at arm’s length and then shit like this didn’t happen.
Even as he curled his fingers around the doorknob, he knew he was lying to himself. There was nothing in the world that would make him trade away the last eight years, trade away the serendipity that brought Peyton into his life. She was the single best thing that had ever happened to him.
He pushed open the door.
Defino was seated behind her desk, staring at the wall, but her eyes shifted and fixed on him.
“Captain?”
“Sit, D’Angelo.” She motioned to the chair before her desk.
Marco sank into it and gripped the arms with both hands.
“I’ve been instructed to discuss Wednesday’s incident with you by the Chief.”
Marco nodded. “Am I suspended?”
Defino gave a humorless laugh. “No…no, you’re not suspended.”
Marco frowned. That didn’t sound right. “Then what?”
Defino bit her inner lip. “He wants me to promote you to lieutenant.”
“What?”
“You’re to be promoted to lieutenant, effective immediately.”
For some reason, Marco couldn’t get his head around this. He was being promoted, not suspended. “I don’t understand.”
“Your heroics on Wednesday did not go unnoticed and with your action on Alcatraz, the Chief feels you are well past due for a promotion.”
Marco shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Defino sighed. “What doesn’t make sense?”
“I’m getting a promotion to lieutenant over more experienced cops like Cho and Simons, over Peyton? She’s the best cop you have.”
Defino held up a hand.
Marco’s eyes narrowed on her. “This is how you’re getting me out, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s a legitimate promotion. You’ll stay here until we finish the Clean-up Crew Case, but you’ll act as supervising lieutenant, then as soon as an opening comes up, you’ll move into a permanent position either for this precinct or another.”
“And my partner?”
“Effective immediately, we begin looking for a new partner for her.”
Marco felt his anger rise. “This is bull shit.”
“Be careful what you say, D’Angelo.”
“Be careful? Why? I’m right. This is complete bull shit.” Then he hesitated as realization dawned on him. “It’s because I’m a white male.”
“D’Angelo!”
“Isn’t it? Peyton’s the better cop, but she’s a black woman. Cho’s Asian and Simons is out of shape. I’m the freakin’ poster child for the status quo in the police department.”
“I don’t think that’s what this is.”
“Really? Really, Captain? You of all people can’t possibly believe that.”
“I do believe it. Look, I’m not saying that we don’t have more work to do to get true equality, but I don’t think that’s why you’ve been given this opportunity.”
“Bull shit.” He shook his head, staring at the blinds on her window. “This is more of the status quo. Well, I don’t accept it. I don’t want the promotion.”
Defino rose to her feet, leaning on the desk. “Don’t be stupid, D’Angelo.”
He looked back at her. “This whole thing stinks, Captain.”
“I don’t care. When you’re offered an opportunity like this, you don’t walk away from it. You accept it.”
“So I can sell out for keeping things the way they’ve always been?”
“No, so you can change it from the inside.” She sank back in her chair. “And I’m going to be frank with you, Marco. I don’t really believe this is moral outrage on your part.”
“Well, it is.”
“Maybe a little, but this is more about Peyton than anything else. You can’t accept that you won’t be her partner anymore.”
“How can you send her out there without me at her back?”
“Because I h
ave no choice. No matter what you decide, promotion, no promotion, I can’t let you stay as Brooks’ partner. It’s becoming a distraction.”
“You said we could be partners as long as I didn’t make any more mistakes. I haven’t made a mistake.”
“Are you going to sit here and tell me this isn’t wearing on you? That you aren’t feeling the strain?”
Marco went still. She planned this. All along, she’d planned it. Throw them into a tight situation by forcing them to live together, expecting something to happen between them, then she could split them up without feeling guilty about it. She was protecting herself.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“I’m trying to help you, you damn fool. I’m trying to advance your career. Did you really think you could sit here as a detective for the rest of your life? Don’t be an idiot, Marco. Take the promotion. Move on. If you aren’t going to tell Peyton what you feel, at least do something for your professional life.” She shook her head. “Shit, you and Brooks are the only two people who could make something bad out of something good. You deserve each other.”
Marco looked down at her desk. What the hell! How was he going to explain this to Peyton and the others? How was he going to tell Peyton they were no longer partners?
“What’s it gonna be, D’Angelo? I have a serial killer to catch.”
“I need to think about it.”
“Fine. You have until Monday to make your decision.” She leaned forward on the desk, pointing at him. “But you better think long and hard. You better be very careful before you turn down an opportunity like this. Ask your partner. I’m pretty sure I know what she’ll say.” She rose to her feet. “Now get out. I need you to get your head in the game, so we can catch this Janitor bastard.”
* * *
“Okay, Brooks, what do we have?”
Peyton watched as Defino and Marco entered the room. He glanced at her, then away, slumping into a chair at the end of the table. Simons and Cho looked over at him as well. Peyton felt her heart sink. There was no way he had good news for her, but if he was suspended, she didn’t understand what he was still doing here.
Jake walked through the door a moment later, carrying his tablet. He settled it on the table and sat down on Marco’s right side. “I’ve been going over the letters again. The Janitor mentions that the man who assaulted Missy drove a Chevy Nova.”
Murder in the Presidio (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 6) Page 19