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

by M. L. Hamilton

  Peyton drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, closing her eyes and waiting for the Janitor to appear.

  * * *

  The Janitor pulled the van up in front of the storage building and placed it in park, then he jumped out, grabbing the bolt cutters and shooting a quick look around. There weren’t many people about; it was getting late, people would be going home for dinner. The weather had taken a cold turn and fog billowed in from the bay.

  He cut the padlock on the storage building doors and pulled them open, then walked back to the van and hopped inside, tossing the bolt cutters on the passenger’s seat. Then he pulled the van into the building and left it idling. The building was just big enough for the van with little room to spare. In fact, his door struck the wall as he pushed it open and climbed out, leaving the key in the ignition.

  Glancing around the roof of the building, he noted that it was solidly constructed as only the military could do. That would work well for his needs. He’d driven around for a long time, risking discovery just to find the perfect location.

  The minute his feet hit the floor, she started banging on the back doors again.

  He chuckled and walked down the side of the van, banging his fist against it in rhythm to her kicks. Too bad he didn’t have time to play with this one a little. She was such a spitfire, so full of life and fight. He knew she would have taken him apart if he hadn’t used the taser on her. This was not one to go meekly into that good night, that was certain.

  He rounded the back of the van and found a man standing in the parking lot, wearing a park ranger khaki uniform. He reached into his back pocket and closed his fingers around the switchblade he carried.

  “You can’t park in there,” said the ranger.

  “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  Another kick came against the back doors. The Janitor glanced over his shoulder at it.

  The ranger’s face grew alarmed. “Is there someone in there? Do you have a woman in there?” He started toward the doors, brushing the Janitor aside.

  Pulling out the switchblade, the Janitor pressed the button and the blade sprang free, brilliantly sharp, deadly. He came up behind the ranger and threw him into the van, cracking his forehead against the metal, then he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, slashing the switch blade across his throat.

  The ranger didn’t even have time to grab for him. He slumped in the Janitor’s hold, dragging him forward. His hand hit the bumper on the van hard. He sucked in air and struggled to drag the ranger off to the side, dumping him on his face beside the van. For a moment he was transfixed watching the exhaust turn white against the chill September air, wafting over the spreading puddle of deep, ruby red.

  Squatting by the body, he carefully closed the switchblade against his knee and replaced it in his back pocket. Rubbing the back of his hand, he shook his head. “Too bad. A day filled with futile chivalry. No one will even know what you tried to do. You’ll just go down in history as another victim of the Clean-up Crew.” He drew a business card out of his shirt pocket and flicked it on the ranger’s back, then he rose to his feet again, placing his hand on the side of the van.

  She’d grown quiet.

  He resisted the impulse to check on her, walking out of the building, then pushing the two doors shut. He didn’t bother to replace the padlock. In the end, it probably wouldn’t matter. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and lifted the display, exposing the keypad.

  As he saw it, there was only one way out.

  * * *

  Marco settled Pickles on the couch and wandered into Peyton’s room, mostly because he didn’t know what to do with himself. Defino thought she was keeping him out of trouble, but she was just giving him room to let his mind conjure horrible images.

  He sank down on Peyton’s bed, his knees giving out on him, and reached out to run his hand over her pillow. Why hadn’t he stayed with her? Why hadn’t he insisted she come with him?

  Glancing down, he noticed the dark edge of something peeking out of her covers. He pushed the sheets back and found the photo Jake had given her for her birthday, the photo of the two of them last July 4th. He picked it up and closed his eyes, fighting the growing desperation inside of him. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening to her.

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He frantically yanked it free, pressing his thumb to the display. A text message opened before him.

  Don’t you ever get sick of it.

  Marco felt his heart kick into overdrive and he settled the photo on his thighs, typing back. Who is this? Get sick of what?

  You dedicate your life to this job, but it doesn’t matter. The scum always rises to the top.

  Marco’s fingers tightened on the phone. Please don’t hurt her.

  That, Handsome, is entirely up to you.

  What do you want me to do? Anything. Name it. I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt her.

  I want it to be over. I’m tired.

  Come in and we’ll talk. Tell me where she is and we can end this. I promise you.

  I don’t mean by surrendering.

  Marco realized he was breathing too fast. He tried to slow his pulse. What do you mean?

  You. Me. One shot. It ends.

  Tell me where she is first.

  No. We do this my way.

  Marco glanced over his shoulder. He should tell Defino.

  As if the Janitor read his mind, the next text message blazed across the screen. Don’t bring anyone else into this. You. Me. That’s it. Those are the terms.

  Okay. What do you want me to do?

  Get out of the house. Don’t get a tail on you. Once you’ve done that, text me. If you text me before you’re free of the house, you know what happens.

  Marco stared at the screen, unsure how he was going to accomplish this.

  Before he could decide, another message appeared. I like her. More than like her. You wouldn’t want me to like her too much. You wouldn’t want me to make her scream.

  Marco leaped to his feet and turned for the door, only to come up short. Abe had just stepped into the entrance.

  “You okay, Angel?”

  Marco could see his wild look in the mirror over Peyton’s dresser. He tried to slow his breathing. “I can’t stay in this house anymore.”

  “Defino said…”

  “I know what she said, but I’ve got to do something, Abe. Anything. I need to go to the crime scene and look around.”

  Abe shook his head, glancing down at Marco’s hand. Marco forced himself to put the phone back in his pocket. “Did someone call?”

  “My family. They wanted an update. I couldn’t talk to them.”

  “Look, Angel. No one’s more panicked than I am, but…”

  “Let him go,” came Maria’s voice from the hallway. Marco hadn’t even known she was home. She must have been hiding in the bedroom.

  Abe shook his head again. “Defino…”

  “What can it hurt if he goes to look over the crime scene? Maybe he’ll see something they missed. Maybe not, but I can understand how he can’t just sit here.”

  “He’s not going to the crime scene. He’s going over to the house across the street.”

  “So? Let him go.”

  Abe turned back. “You’re going to get yourself suspended again.”

  “What difference does that make, Abe? He has her and that’s all that matters right now.”

  Abe considered this for a moment. Marco wondered how far he’d get if he just broke for the front door. He didn’t have time to waste like this.

  “All right,” Abe said, then he reached out and gripped his arm. “Be careful. You aren’t thinking straight.”

  Marco nodded, stepping into the hallway and giving Maria a grateful nod. He looked out at the living room. Defino and Stan were huddled over his computer, trying to reach the rental company.

  “I need a distraction.”

  “Okay.”

  Abe t
ook a deep breath, then he walked over to the table where Defino and Stan worked. “There’s got to be something more you can do. If you shut down the park, shouldn’t the police be searching every inch of it?”

  Defino squinted at him and Stan blinked owlishly, adjusting his glasses. “We’re doing our best,” said Defino.

  “It’s not enough. You should have found her by now.”

  “You’re blocking the monitor,” said Defino, straightening.

  “I’ll get out of the way as soon as you tell me what you’re going to do. If he makes it out of the City…”

  “Abe, you need to let us do our job. Please move.”

  Marco started forward, but Maria touched his arm. “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He nodded, then moved toward the open front door.

  Abe made a frantic motion with his hands. “I can’t. There’s got to be something more we can do to help her.”

  Defino put her hands on her hips. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” He sat down on the edge of the table Stan had set up, closing his eyes. “I can’t take this. My heart is pounding. Why haven’t you been able to find her?” He pressed a hand against his chest.

  That did the trick. Stan rose to his feet and Defino moved close to him, placing her hand on Abe’s shoulder.

  “Calm down, Abe, this isn’t helping anyone. Just take deep breaths,” she said. “That’s it. In and out. In and out. We are doing everything we can.”

  Marco didn’t listen for anymore. He hurried across the room, slipping out the door and running down the stairs. Once he was at the bottom, he paused in the driveway, out of sight of the living room windows, and pulled out the cell phone again.

  I’m out. Now what?

  He could feel his heart racing again, waiting for the response. He removed his gun and checked it, then looked back at the display. Just as he was going to type another message, the phone buzzed.

  Get in your car and drive north on 19th.

  I can’t get up 19th. The entire park is filled with cops looking for you. Tell me where to meet you.

  No response.

  Marco was just getting ready to try dialing the number directly when a new message flashed across the screen.

  Get in your car and start driving north. I’ll text you in a bit. But hurry. I figure she’s got at most a half hour.

  * * *

  Jake finished dusting the chair in front of the windows, placed everything back in his evidence kit, and pushed himself to his feet. His gaze happened to go out the window. Marco was standing in Peyton’s driveway, texting on his phone. Jake frowned, then reached for his own cell phone.

  He dialed Marco’s number.

  Marco looked at the display, then lifted his eyes, meeting Jake’s gaze. Slowly he lifted the phone to his ear and connected the call.

  “Have you found anything?” he asked. His voice was strange, tense and unsteady.

  “No. What are you doing?”

  Marco glanced down the street. “Defino gave me permission to check out the crime scene, so I’m headed there.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah, I can’t stay in that house.” He gave Jake a pointed look. “Look, Jake. You’re clever. You can figure this out. Who the hell is this bastard and where did he take her?”

  “I’m trying, Adonis. There’s just nothing here. You’re the cop. How do these things usually go?”

  “That’s the problem. He’s not keeping to a pattern, or the pattern he’s keeping keeps changing. Think, Jake. You and Stan are her best chances. I’m the guy you go to when there’s a person in front of you. You and Stan put the puzzle pieces together. Please, Jake. You’ve got to figure something out. I can’t lose her.”

  “I know. I’ll keep trying.”

  Marco nodded, then he disconnected the call and started up the street, away from Peyton’s house. Jake finished buckling the straps on his evidence case, then took another pass around the upper part of the house. There was nothing here.

  No pizza boxes, no soda cans, nothing to indicate the Janitor had been using this as a flop house.

  He wandered down the stairs into the garage. Simons and Cho were standing in the middle of the room, staring at a black spot of oil on the concrete floor. They looked over as Jake arrived.

  “Find anything?” Jake asked.

  “Just this.” Cho pointed at the oil. “That cargo van of his leaks. Must really be an older model.”

  “He was keeping it in the garage?”

  “Looks that way.”

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this. There’s no sign he used the house to live in. At best, I figure, he sat in that chair and watched Peyton’s house. There’s no food, no drinks, nothing that indicates he was actually using this place for shelter.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why break in and risk getting caught?”

  Cho shook his head. “Best we can figure, he planned to do surveillance from the van.”

  “Then why did he break in here?”

  “It was easier to watch Peyton’s house from inside. Less suspicious. Plus he could stash the van here.”

  “Then what was the original plan?”

  Cho shrugged.

  Simons gave a grunt. “Most crimes are 80% desire and planning, 20% opportunity. Without the opportunity, you don’t have the crime. He got lucky when the house went up for rent, so he jumped on it.”

  “And then what? He just watched her for hours?”

  “Her house is always crawling with people,” said Cho. “He was probably waiting for enough of us to leave, so he could go after her.”

  Jake’s head lifted. Not enough of them, he only needed to wait for one of them to leave. Marco. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve been thinking Peyton is the target all along, but it’s not. It’s Marco.”

  “Marco?”

  “Call Defino and ask her if she gave Marco permission to go to the crime scene.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Please, Nate, just call her.”

  Cho pressed the button on his radio. “Captain?”

  “Do you have something for me?” came her response.

  “No, there’s nothing here but an oil stain. Hey, Captain, is D’Angelo with you?”

  “Of course he is.”

  Jake gave Cho a pointed look. “Tell her he’s gone.”

  “Captain, Ryder says he’s gone.”

  “Hold on.” The radio chattered with other traffic, then the captain’s voice broke through. “God damn it, does Ryder know where he went?”

  Jake felt his heart start to pound. Both Cho and Simons were staring at him. “He told me he was going to the crime scene, but I don’t think that’s where he’s going.”

  “Why?” asked Defino.

  “When I saw him, he was texting someone.”

  The radio went dead. Cho and Simons gave him disbelieving looks. He knew he probably should have questioned Marco more, but he wasn’t thinking straight. Fear for Peyton was clouding his thoughts.

  “Did he just say D’Angelo was texting someone?” asked Defino.

  Cho pressed the button again. “Yes, he did.”

  Silence. Feedback from other radios. Then Defino’s voice, low and deadly.

  “Come back over here right now,” she said.

  * * *

  Marco hit the lights on the Mustang and drove as fast north as he could. Wracking his brain, he tried to figure out where the Janitor might have taken her. His cell phone rang in the cup holder. He glanced at it. Defino. Reaching down he disconnected the call, then pressed the redial button for the Janitor’s phone.

  It rang without answer. He was probably using a throw-away, so the call couldn’t be traced. Still, if Marco could get him talking, Stan might be able to get a location from a cell tower.

  Defino called again and Marco disconnected.

  He felt guilty thwarting her this way, but he did
n’t have a choice. He couldn’t chance missing an opportunity to connect with the serial killer.

  Slamming on his brakes, he narrowly missed a car that had stopped right in front of him. The driver waved and pulled over to the side, so that Marco could get past. Sweat ran down his spine and made his grip on the wheel slick. His heart was pounding so hard, he felt like he could feel it in his temples.

  As he swerved to go around the bewildered driver, he glanced down, seeing another text message. Briefly taking his eyes off the road, he glanced at the display.

  I hope you’re on your way. Time is running out.

  He dialed the number again and let it ring. The call never went through. As soon as he punched it off, a text message appeared.

  Have I mentioned how much I like her? She has spirit. Fire. Zest for life. It’s intoxicating.

  Marco grabbed the phone and braced it against the steering wheel, typing frantically. Damn you, don’t touch her.

  Then stop trying to call. I know what you’re doing.

  Fine, Marco texted back. Tell me where the hell you are!

  Presidio. Call me when you arrive, but hurry. She has less than 20 minutes now.

  Marco dropped the phone back into the cup holder and gripped the wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. Damn it, he should have guessed Presidio. The Janitor had murdered there before.

  * * *

  “He keeps disconnecting my calls.” Defino slammed the phone down. “Get a trace on him now, Stan.”

  “On it. It’ll take me a bit, but…”

  “Just do it.”

  Letting Cho and Simons go in front of him, Jake hesitated on the landing of Peyton’s house, afraid Defino was going to blame him for this. And he did feel responsible. He knew it didn’t sit right that Marco was outside in the driveway.

  “Where the hell is Ryder?”

  Jake drew a deep breath and went inside.

  Defino always looked like she was ready to spit nails, but he’d never seen her in such a towering rage before. Glancing around, he marked that Abe was hiding behind the counter in the kitchen.