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

by M. L. Hamilton

  * * *

  Peyton later wouldn’t remember much about the drive to Marco’s apartment. She kept replaying everything over in her head, analyzing things he’d said, things he did. She touched the locket at her throat. How could she have so misread him?

  For eight years, they’d been partners. They’d spent every day with each other. How could she have missed it if there’d been something more?

  She wasn’t lying when she told Jake no other man would compare to Marco in her mind. Last night after the sedative wore off, she woke to find her mother sitting beside her. They’d finally had a meaningful conversation, the first one since her father died. Alice had told her what she wanted for her, how badly she wanted her to quit the force and settle down. She brought Jake up again. In Alice’s mind, Jake was the perfect mate, the perfect life-partner. If Peyton thought about it logically, she could see what Alice saw.

  Jake was loyal. Jake was dependable. Jake would always be faithful. And yet, she would never consider Jake. Because, she realized, Jake wasn’t Marco.

  Devan wasn’t Marco. Stan wasn’t Marco. There was only one Marco, one man who embodied everything she wanted, and until now, she’d been sure that had meant nothing. She’d been sure that this same man would never consider someone like her.

  She pulled into his complex and parked next to the Charger. He hadn’t been driving it in weeks, but he still kept it immaculately maintained, the dark paint gleaming.

  She reached for the phone and dialed her house number. Jake picked up on the second ring. “Peyton?”

  “I’m here,” she said.

  “Make sure you know what you’re doing.”

  She smiled at the phone. “I do. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay,” he answered and the line went dead.

  A part of her wished Jake could be the one, like her mother wanted. Jake would be easy. Jake was the most uncomplicated person she’d ever met and he’d subsume himself into a relationship with little problem. Jake was meant to be monogamous, committed, a husband. Marco was not. As Maria had said, she’d slapped a collar on Marco and called him tame, but all along she’d known that he would never be. Still, he was worth the risk.

  She was surprised she wasn’t more nervous as she pushed open the Corolla’s door and climbed out. She pressed the button to lock it and walked with determination toward his building. She would have run up the stairs, but her bout with carbon monoxide had left her feeling a little light headed still.

  Even so, she arrived at his door and stood studying the number on it, praying he was home. She realized she hadn’t looked for the Mustang once she saw the Charger. He might be out and then what would she do?

  She rubbed her hands against her thighs, swallowed hard, then reached up and knocked on the door. She felt like she was standing on a precipice and either she would survive the fall, or she’d be dashed to bits at the bottom. Still, she was determined to take the leap. She was done with playing it safe.

  The lock turned and the door opened. Marco filled the entrance, his chest straining the t-shirt he wore, his black hair touching his shoulders. His blue eyes widened when he saw her and she couldn’t help but notice how damn handsome he was.

  She felt her heart accelerate, pounding in her throat, in her temples. How had she not realized what she felt for him all this time? It filled her now until she worried she might suffocate.

  “Hey, partner,” he said, giving her a lazy smile.

  She reached out and curled her hand in his shirt, tugging him forward, then she went up on her toes and kissed him, angling her head so their mouths met perfectly. He hesitated in surprise for a second, just the briefest of seconds, then he was kissing her back, curling his arms around her, crushing her against him, deepening the kiss.

  Somehow he pulled her back with him into his apartment and kicked the door closed without lifting his mouth from hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed up into him, wanting to meld with him. He shoved her back against the wall beside the door, his hands sliding into her hair, anchoring her mouth beneath his as he stole her breath with his kiss.

  Gradually, he pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. They were both breathing hard, their bodies entangled. She looked into his blue eyes, searching him, and she saw what she wanted to see.

  “Take me to bed,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said breathlessly.

  EPILOGUE

  Genevieve sat down in the booth across from the cop. He looked like a boy with his smooth face and his wide-set brown eyes, like a puppy who was hoping for a treat from its master. She shifted, crossing her legs, and he fixated on them, glancing up at her nervously.

  “Hello, Officer Bartlet.”

  “Hello, Ms. Lake. Thank you for meeting me. What can I get you?” He wasn’t wearing his uniform, but if possible, the silly 49er ball cap and the oversized jersey made him look even younger.

  “I’d love a glass of Pinot.”

  He motioned to the waitress.

  “Are you sure we should be meeting here? Isn’t this where Inspector D’Angelo usually comes to drink?” She glanced around the crowded interior of the Fiddler’s Green.

  “He won’t be here tonight.”

  She licked her bottom lip. He followed it with his eyes. “I heard about Inspector Brooks. Is she all right?”

  “She’ll be fine. She’s taking a few days of leave right now.”

  “And the Janitor got away again?”

  Bartlet nodded, then looked up when the waitress arrived. “A glass of Pinot and a rum and coke for me,” he said.

  She nodded and walked away.

  “Do you think Inspector Brooks will come back?”

  “To work?”

  “Right.”

  “Of course she will. This isn’t going to stop her. This sicko isn’t going to scare her away.”

  “What about D’Angelo? Will he be suspended again?”

  “Why would he be suspended?”

  “Didn’t he break protocol? Go after her when he was told to stay?”

  “How do you know that?”

  She smiled. So simple. Poor boy. “I have a police scanner. It lit up like a Christmas tree yesterday.” She leaned forward. “How do you think he got away?”

  “Who?”

  “The Janitor. The Presidio was surrounded. How did he escape?”

  Bartlet shrugged. “We think he’s got military training.”

  Genevieve gave a slow nod.

  Bartlet shifted uncomfortably. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

  The waitress returned with their drinks and settled them on the table. Bartlet placed a twenty on her tray and she nodded, then backed away.

  Genevieve lifted her drink and took a sip.

  Bartlet gave her a shy smile. “I just wanted to have a drink with you. That’s all. I don’t want to talk about work. Is that okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s just, I like you and I was hoping, maybe, you like me.”

  “Of course I do.”

  He glanced at her and smiled, then looked down. “Just, sometimes I feel like all you’re interested in is getting a story out of me.”

  “Is that what Inspector D’Angelo told you?”

  He gave a soft laugh and nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  She leaned forward. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous because I rejected him.”

  “You rejected him?”

  She sipped at her wine. “You sound surprised.”

  “Uh, yeah. I didn’t think any women rejected a guy like him.”

  “Well, I did.” She gave Bartlet a sly smile. “I like guys who are less full of themselves. No woman wants a man who’s that arrogant, who thinks he can have whatever he wants.”

  Bartlet returned her smile. “I’m glad. I mean, it’s nice.”

  She gave him a sultry wink. “So not to talk about work, but
are you assigned to the Clean-up Crew case yourself?”

  “Pretty much the entire precinct is focused on it. It was bad enough when he was messing with child molesters, but now he went after one of our own.”

  “It’s so scary realizing a serial killer’s running around the City and no one seems able to stop him. He pretty much does what he pleases.”

  “He’s not going to be running around much longer. Not now. We’re closing in on him. In fact, pretty soon we’re gonna know exactly who he is.”

  “Really?” She placed a hand over her heart. “I’m so relieved. It scares me to death to think of it. I don’t know how Inspector Brooks isn’t a complete wreck.”

  “She’s pretty strong.”

  Genevieve nodded. “She has to be. I would have had a heart attack the second he grabbed me.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Her phone rang in her clutch where it lay on the table. “Excuse me for a second. Just let me check it. It sounds like my work cell.”

  He nodded and sat back.

  Genevieve fished the phone out and looked at the display. No number, just the words Unknown Caller. She frowned, but thumbed it on, lifting it to her ear.

  “How bad do you want that Pulitzer?”

  She didn’t recognize the voice. It was gravelly and low.

  “Excuse me? Who is this?”

  Bartlet frowned.

  She shrugged.

  “Boy Wonder seems curious.”

  Genevieve felt her heart slam against her ribs and she turned, searching the bar for anyone else on a cell phone. No one else seemed to be talking. “Say that again?”

  “How bad do you want the Pulitzer?”

  Genevieve faced forward again, clenching her jaw. “Bad.”

  “Good. Then we need to talk.”

  Bartlet was giving her a pointed look. She forced a smile for him, but blood was rushing to her head.

  “Oh, Uncle Leo, so nice to hear from you,” she said. She pointed to the phone and mouthed sorry, gotta take this. Then she rose to her feet and walked away from the table, moving toward the back where the bathrooms were. She scanned the crowd again, searching for anyone with a cell phone. “How did you get this number?”

  A low, deep laugh echoed through the line. “The paper gave it to me. I said I was supposed to have an exclusive interview with you and they immediately turned it over. Didn’t really ask many questions. Ironic for news people.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “I want to know if you want a Pulitzer for some real journalism, or do you want to continue pumping green cops for information they never had?”

  She paused at the entrance to the bathroom hallway, staying in the main part of the tavern. “Fine, but they’re going to get you eventually. You really pissed them off by taking one of their cops. She almost died.”

  “If we’re going to have a working relationship, you’ve got to stop being bitchy. I don’t like it.”

  Genevieve realized she was shaking. What the hell was she doing, talking to a serial killer? “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Afraid, are you? And here I thought you were one of the old fashioned journalists, you know, the ones who stare into the face of death for their story. The ones who aren’t afraid to brave war, natural disaster, famine for that by-line. I guess I was wrong.”

  Her grip tightened on the phone. She did want to be one of those journalists. Real journalists, not the yellow news propaganda hounds most journalists had become nowadays. “What are you proposing?”

  “I tell you my story. You write it down. When this is over, you have my permission to publish it.”

  Genevieve considered for a moment. “You’re going to give me your story. You’re going to trust that I’m going to write it exactly as you say without making an editorial comment about it. Without calling you a sociopath or a psychotic butcher.”

  “I don’t care what you call me, baby. It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t much care what the general public thinks of me. Psychopath is fine by me. But we both know who the real psychopaths are.”

  Genevieve shook her head, staring out at the busy tavern, knowing that any one of these men could be him, could be a serial killer. “What exactly do you get out of this, then? I mean if I can say whatever I want about you, what the hell do you gain?”

  “Immortality, baby,” he said and hung up.

  THE END

  Now that you’ve finished, visit ML Hamilton at her website: authormlhamilton.com for more information on the Peyton Brooks’ mysteries and her other contemporary fiction novel, Ravensong.

  If you missed the first three novels in the Peyton Brooks’ mystery series, Murder on Potrero Hill, Murder in the Tenderloin, and Murder on Russian Hill download them now!

  Then check out her fantasy series, The World of Samar, at worldofsamar.com.

  All ML Hamilton titles available at Amazon in Kindle and paperback formats.

  The Complete Peyton Brooks’ Mysteries Collection:

  Murder on Potrero Hill Volume 1

  Murder in the Tenderloin Volume 2

  Murder on Russian Hill Volume 3

  Murder on Alcatraz Volume 4

  Murder in Chinatown Volume 5

  Murder in the Presidio Volume 6

  The Complete World of Samar Collection:

  Emerald Volume 1

  The Heirs of Eldon Volume 2

  The Star of Eldon Volume 3

  The Spirit of Eldon Volume 4