“So?” said Cho.
“Well, the first model year for the Nova was 1962 and the last year was 1988. There hasn’t been one made since.”
Marco looked over at him.
Peyton drew a deep breath, forcing herself to concentrate on the white board. She’d put up the names of each victim and their method of death. She’d also added Irving Jones to the list, even though he was still alive. Next to the names she wrote, Chevy Nova 62-88.
“If we take those years into consideration, he mentioned that he was going into the Marines after high school. Since we suspect that he’s a police officer, we can search employment records for men who entered the force in the late 80s or early 90s with a military background,” she said.
“And who also worked at the Ingleside Station for some part of their career,” said Simons.
Peyton pointed the pen at him and added it to the board.
“Do you have his last letter on that thing?” asked Marco, nodding at Jake’s tablet.
“Yeah.” He tapped on it with his fingers, then slid it over to Marco.
Marco picked it up and started reading.
“So, the first victim, Wayne Kimbro was shot execution style,” said Cho.
Peyton nodded and checked that information on her board.
“Alan Brill was the second, and he was hung.”
“Right.”
“Father Reynolds was suicide by cop. Lewis Booker had his throat slit.” Cho rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Bruce Weller was strangled with a dog leash.”
Peyton sat down at the table, bracing her arms on it. Everyone studied the white board, except Marco, who was still reading. “Then Junior Walker was shot execution style.”
“And Simon Olsen was hung,” added Jake.
“He tried to off Irving Jones with suicide by cop,” said Simons.
“Which means our next victim will have his throat slit,” said Defino, closing her eyes in weariness.
“How many cops do you think have a military background?” asked Cho.
Peyton shook her head. “A lot. And we’re talking about searching more than twenty-five years of records.”
“If he ever went into the military,” said Jake, giving her a grim smile.
“Right.”
Marco looked up, shifting so he could meet Peyton’s gaze. “What about cops with a military record who also worked in the jail system?”
“What do you mean?”
“In the letter, the Janitor said he was going to meet an old friend who recently got out of jail, not prison, jail. I looked up Irving Jones’ record. He served a reduced sentence for statutory rape of a 16 year old.”
“Why reduced?” asked Cho.
“They both claimed she was his girlfriend.”
Peyton shuddered.
“However, our pal Irving has been a guest of the county jail system most of his life on various charges – drunk in public, marijuana possession, shop lifting. Nothing big enough to earn him a strike, but he’s got a very colorful history.”
Defino smiled grimly. “So the Janitor must have worked at the jails at some point in his career. We need to cross check the employment records for cops that served in the military and then at the jails before coming on the force.”
Peyton nodded.
Defino pushed herself to her feet. “Good work, everyone. I feel the noose tightening around this bastard’s neck. Cho and Simons, get to work on a warrant to search the employment records. I’ll get Maria started on the database, pulling all the matches as soon as we have the go-ahead.”
Cho and Simons rose and headed out of the room.
Defino paused and gave Marco a nod. “You’d better think long and hard, D’Angelo,” she said and then she left the room too.
Peyton stayed where she was, her eyes fixed on her partner. Marco shifted and met her look. Jake glanced between the two of them, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I’ll go get some coffee,” he said. “Anyone want anything?”
“No,” said Peyton.
Marco shook his head.
“Alrighty then.” He pushed himself back and rose, picking up his tablet. “Sure wouldn’t want to disrupt the awkward right now.”
“Go get your coffee, Jake,” said Peyton.
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Get out!” snapped Marco.
Jake beat a hasty retreat.
Peyton rolled the white board pen across the table with the palm of her hand. “Are you suspended?”
He shook his head.
“What are you then?”
He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then looked over at her. “She offered me a promotion.”
Peyton stopped rolling the pen. “A promotion?”
“To lieutenant.”
“What do you mean she offered it to you?”
He looked down at the table. “Just that.”
“Did you take it?”
He shook his head.
Peyton thought about that for a moment. He didn’t take a promotion to lieutenant? “Why the hell not?”
He glanced over at her. “Do you know what that means? Do you understand all the implications of it?”
“It means we won’t be partners anymore.”
“Yeah.”
Her fingers tightened on the pen. “That was going to happen anyway. We’ve been on borrowed time since Alcatraz and we both know it. Defino made that clear to both of us.”
His expression grew pained.
She had to look away. She couldn’t maintain eye contact with him or she would burst into tears. A tightness banded across her chest, making it hurt to breathe, but she had to make him understand he had to take the promotion. She would never do anything to hold him back, even when this felt like it would shatter her.
“Marco, you have to take the promotion.”
“Over you? Over our partnership?”
She swallowed hard. Why couldn’t he make this easier on her? If he’d taken the promotion, it would have hurt to know he’d put his career before their friendship, but it would have made this less agonizing.
From somewhere inside of her, she found the strength to speak. “You have to take it. She’s going to break up our partnership no matter what. You can’t turn down an opportunity like this.”
“Peyton.”
She held up a hand and closed her eyes. “Please don’t.” Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to exhale. “Promise me you’ll take it.”
“If I take it, I’m feeding into the stereotype of the police force being a good old boys club.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“Really? She offered me a promotion over Cho and Simons. They’ve been detectives longer than I have.”
“And they don’t have our record of conviction either.”
“Fine. Then she gave it to me over you. We both know you’re the better cop.”
“I didn’t save my partner’s life on Alcatraz and I didn’t save Irving Jones just this past week.” She couldn’t believe how angry she was at him. “I’m an inspector at 30, Marco. I don’t have a damn thing to complain about and neither do you. Take the damn promotion.”
He stared at her as if she’d slapped him across the face, his expression so wounded, so hurt.
Be cruel to be kind, she told herself, but if her chest got much tighter, she was going to suffocate.
Suddenly Devan appeared in the doorway. “Hey,” he said, then paused when he sensed the tension in the room. “Sorry, bad timing?”
Marco looked down, then he pushed himself to his feet and turned away from the table. “No, perfect timing,” he said and stalked out of the room.
Peyton tightened her hand on the pen, forcing the edge of the lid into her fingers. The pain helped her gain control, helped her keep from screaming or crying or hitting something. Her mind couldn’t accept a world where Marco wasn’t h
er partner, and yet, she cared too much for him to let him sacrifice his career for something that was already coming to an end.
“I’m sorry, Peyton. I didn’t know I was interrupting anything.”
“It’s fine,” she gritted out and then she opened her eyes, looking up at him. As always, he wore a crisp, charcoal grey suit with a purple silk shirt and a pinstriped tie. She realized he had to be coming back from the courthouse. Rising to her feet, she put the dry erase pen on the white board and crossed around the table, coming to a halt in front of him. “Did you need something?”
He sighed. “I wanted to apologize for Rani the other day. She had no business confronting you like that.”
Peyton frowned. Rani and Devan were the last people she gave a damn about right now. “She told you?”
“Yeah, she’s surprisingly honest like that.”
“I’ll say.”
“It makes it difficult to be mad at her, but still, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t. And it’s my fault. She’s feeling insecure and I’m not giving her any reason to feel otherwise.”
Peyton crossed her arms over her chest. Why the hell was the entire male gender so freakin’ stupid? The lot of them pissed her off. “Well, I can imagine she’s feeling insecure. What the hell is going on with you anyway?”
He blinked in surprise at her sudden anger. She realized she wasn’t angry at him, but he was as good a target as any right now. “I don’t know.” He shifted weight. “Actually, I do. I thought you and I had a chance.”
“Wait. What?”
He exhaled. “When I broke it off, I thought you’d fight for us. I thought you’d come back and tell me you wanted a relationship and you were willing to do anything necessary to work it out.”
Peyton wished she hadn’t asked. She couldn’t follow that logic right now. All she could think about was Marco.
“Then I realized you weren’t coming back, you weren’t taking the bait. You were okay that it was over.”
“I wasn’t okay…”
“No one likes rejection, I get that, but you were okay.” He scratched the back of his neck, using his other hand to push back his jacket. “I wasn’t.”
“Instead of playing games, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was so surprised. I thought we had something and I couldn’t believe that you’d just walk away like that. So I started seeing Rani, hoping that might make you reconsider.”
“Wow, that is so stupid.”
“Fine.” He gave her an exasperated look.
“Is that why you asked her to marry you?”
“No. When you didn’t respond, I took a good look at her and as far as my career goes, she’s a really good choice for a wife.”
“Because of your political aspirations?” She couldn’t keep the contempt out of her voice.
“Do you really think you’d be happy being the wife of a politician? Giving up your career for mine?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
“Then why have you been coming around again?”
He shook his head slowly. “I started wondering if my career was enough to compensate for happiness.”
“I don’t understand.”
He smiled at her. “I was happy when we were together. Sure, you frustrated the hell out of me, but things were fun, exciting. I liked that. I missed that. I missed you.”
“So I guess Rani isn’t getting her lawyer then?”
He gave a sad laugh. “No, she is. You were right the other day.”
“When?”
“When you asked me if she’s pregnant.”
“She’s pregnant? Wait. How the hell did you do that? You’re a grown-ass man.”
He laughed easier this time. “She told me she was on the pill.”
Peyton shook her head in bewilderment. “I thought I couldn’t hear something stupider today, but you just topped it.”
“I know.”
“Even so, you don’t have to marry her, Devan. You have to support the child, but you don’t have to marry the mother.”
“I do.”
“If you want to be a senator?”
“The sex scandals are supposed to happen after you’re elected, not before.”
“Cute.”
“I’m open to an affair.”
She gave him a disgusted look.
“I’m joking.” He held out his hands. “I’m joking. You know I’m not the cheating type.”
“I hope not. I’m not a fan of Runny.”
“Rani.”
“Right, but she deserves better than you’ve been showing her.”
“I know.”
“I hope you do.”
“If not, I figure I’ll still have you around to give me a swift kick in the ass.”
She smiled at him, then she went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I really do wish you happiness, Devan. You don’t know, a baby may change everything between the two of you.”
“I can hope.”
She stepped away from him and started toward the door.
“Peyton?”
She hesitated, looking back at him.
“I came to tell you something else. The jury for the O’Shannahan trial went into deliberations today. They agreed to deliberate through the weekend if necessary.”
“Why?”
“Pressure from the mayor.”
“Whatever.” She waved it off.
“Do you want me to let you know the verdict?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” He hesitated, then gave her a wistful smile. “I’m sorry things turned out this way between us.”
She could honestly say she wasn’t, but she didn’t think he wanted to hear that and she really didn’t want to hurt him. Any animosity she’d once felt toward him was gone. Unfortunately, Marco was front and foremost in her thoughts right now.
“I’m sorry too, Devan,” she said, then she disappeared out the door.
* * *
Peyton sat on the little bench in the precinct bathroom, staring at a spot on the tiled floor. If she stared at it long enough, it looked like a woman crying with her hands over her face. She’d been sitting here for a while, wondering why she’d never noticed it before.
The door opened and Maria stepped inside. She halted when she saw Peyton. “Oh God, Brooks, what the hell are you doing sitting in a bathroom?”
Peyton glanced up at her, then went back to studying the spot. “Just thinking.”
Maria sighed. “Don’t do this to me, Brooks. I don’t do girl talk.”
Peyton frowned. “That’s the one girly thing you don’t do?”
Maria let the door close behind her and came over, dropping down on the bench. “I hate it. I’ve never had many girlfriends and even when I did, I didn’t give a shit about their problems.”
“You’re a regular angel of mercy, aren’t you, Maria?”
She leaned back against the wall. “Don’t make me pull it out of you, please. Just tell me what’s wrong, I’ll tell you what to do about it, and then we can leave the freakin’ bathroom.” She pointed a finger at her. “And don’t you cry.”
“Now that you’ve set the ground rules for our girl talk…”
“Brooks!”
Peyton exhaled and closed her eyes. “Defino offered Marco a promotion to lieutenant.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t take it.”
“He has to. It would be stupid of him not to.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“But we’re still sitting in the bathroom. Why?”
Peyton swallowed, fighting the rush of tears. She didn’t want to violate Maria’s one rule. “We won’t be partners anymore.”
“You had to know that’s been coming for a long time.”
“I did. Intellectually, I guess. I just kept hoping it wouldn’t happen.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I still think he has to take the promoti
on.”
“I know. It’s just…” She splayed her hands on her thighs and rubbed them against her jeans. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
She shifted until she faced Maria, tucking her leg under her. “He’s been a daily part of my life for eight years. We spend hours together every single day. Whenever I go on a call, he’s there for me. I feel safer with him than anyone else. All that changes when he takes this promotion.”
“It doesn’t change. He’ll still be there for you.”
“Not in the same way. We won’t spend our days together anymore. We won’t have the time like we do now.” She let out a shivery pant. “For eight years he’s been my rock, my support, my one constant.”
Maria reached over and took one of her hands. “And he’ll still be that, but I guess you’re going to have to ask yourself if maybe it’s time for this relationship to evolve.”
“What?”
Maria squeezed her hand. “You play it safe, Brooks. Sure, you have this crazy dangerous job, but in your personal life, you play it safe.”
Peyton shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Look at the people you surround yourself with. They’re all safe.”
“How so?”
“Jake? Jake Ryder’s a house cat, Brooks.”
“Well…”
“And Abe? Who could be safer for a woman than a gay man? And a gay man like Abe who is all refined and cultured.”
Peyton was beginning to see her point.
“And then there’s me. How much safer could I get? I need you to rescue my ass, and beyond a few criticisms of your hair and butt, I am easy-going to a fault.”
Well, she didn’t know about that.
“For God’s sakes, Brooks, you’re going on a date tonight with Stan Neumann.”
“Hold on. They thought he might be the serial killer.”
“For all of five minutes and they were clutching at straws.”
Peyton nodded. She had a point.
“The only dangerous thing in your life is Marco, but you put a collar on him and called him domesticated.”
“What?”
“Eight years ago, you decided you were going to make him into a pet, and the damn fool let you. Now, the way I see it, you’ve either got to let him go, or you’re going to have to stop playing it safe and evolve that relationship.”
Murder in the Presidio (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 6) Page 20