Murder on Treasure Island (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 7) Read online

  Murder on Treasure Island

  A Peyton Brooks’ Mystery

  Volume 7

  ML Hamilton

  Cover Art by Karri Klawiter

  www.artbykarri.com

  Photography by Jared Lugo

  Murder on Treasure Island

  © 2014 ML Hamilton, Sacramento, CA

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  First print

  All Characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  I’ve had such a wonderful time sharing Peyton’s adventures with my readers. I cannot thank you enough for the support you’ve given me and the encouragement to keep doing what I love.

  Most of all, I couldn’t do this without my family.

  “I will seize fate by the throat; it shall certainly never wholly overcome me.”

  ~ Ludwig van Beethoven

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  Peyton woke and stretched, remembering exactly where she was and in whose bed she slept. She smiled languidly. If she had known what she was missing for the last eight years, she would have jumped him the first time they met.

  She reached for Marco, but found his side of the bed empty. She sat up and looked around. It was still dark. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Two in the morning.

  Where was he?

  A feeling of panic rose inside of her and she threw back the covers, searching the floor for her clothes. They’d made a trail of clothing from his front door to the bed, casting off things without concern for where they fell. She found a 49ers jersey on a chair by his door and slipped it over her head, quickly combing her fingers through her tangle of curls. The jersey fell to mid-thigh, more like a dress than a jersey on her short frame, but it smelled like him and she hugged her arms around herself as she reached for the doorknob.

  She pulled it open and padded out into the living room in her bare feet. He was sitting on the couch, a table lamp turned on beside him, casting his profile in a soft glow. His chest was bare, but he’d tugged on a pair of athletic shorts. He glanced over at her and gave her a smile, but it seemed tense. She crossed around behind the couch, trailing her fingers over his shoulders and took a seat before him on the coffee table.

  “This can’t be a good sign.”

  He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re sitting alone by yourself in the middle of the night.”

  He leaned forward and slid his hands up her thighs. “Just thinking.” His eyes lowered down her body. “By the way, I’m particularly fond of the outfit you’re currently wearing.” He gave her a sweet kiss, pulling her closer.

  She cupped a hand on his face, holding him to her, deepening the kiss. It felt so right to share this intimacy with him, but it scared her a bit. They’d slid into this as easily as they slid into their friendship, as if they had always been lovers.

  Last night had been explosive, frantic, urgent, but this...this was easy. This was very easy. Was it too easy? Should she be more worried about why he’d left the bed and was sitting out here thinking? She drew away from him before it ratcheted back up to the physical connection of last night. She figured the sex probably wouldn’t be a problem between them, but maintaining real intimacy might. Neither one of them had very good track records with relationships.

  He let her pull away with a sigh of frustration.

  “What were you thinking about?”

  He swallowed and shook his head. “Our options.”

  “Our options?”

  “The way I see it, we’ve got two.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “We pretend this never happened, go back to the way it was before, and I get to stay at the precinct until this Janitor bastard is dead.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but he held up a finger. “Before you pick that choice, you should know my heart will likely stop beating if you do.”

  She gave a relieved laugh. “Oh, well, that’s a problem.”

  He nodded.

  “Can I have door number two?”

  “We confess everything to Defino, accept that she’s going to immediately transfer me out of the precinct. We get you an uzi and a tank, then I go out hunting the Janitor at night after work.”

  Peyton pretended to consider that. “Well, those are both horrible choices.”

  He slumped back on the couch.

  “I have a third option,” she offered.

  “I’m listening.”

  “How about if we don’t tell anyone about us?”

  He didn’t seem happy with that. “Sneak around?”

  She shrugged. “For a while. Just until we catch the Janitor.”

  “Peyton, this is serious. I don’t want to sneak around with you.”

  The quiet fear inside of her eased at his words. “I know,” she soothed. “It’s just for a little while, Marco. I can’t have you moved out of the precinct. Not now. He’s playing with us, he’s toying with us. I need to get this bastard. I can’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, afraid he’s going to grab me…”

  He leaned forward and grasped her hips. He forced her to make eye contact. “He’s not going to touch you again, Peyton. I won’t let him.”

  She reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from his eye, then she nodded, forcing herself to calm. “Just think about it. We can meet in secret. It’ll be like we’re spies or something.”

  He smiled that sultry smile she loved so much. “Woman, I will do anything you want me to do.”

  “You probably shouldn’t tell me that.”

  “Really? Because you didn’t already know it?” He dragged her closer and she braced her arms on his shoulders. “I love you, Peyton.”

  She felt as if she were going to explode with happiness as she searched his eyes. “I love you too,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him, lingering on his lips, savoring her right to do so. Then she moved closer, sliding her lips along the side of his face until she reached his ear. “You know this means all of the Barbies have to stop, right?”

  He pressed his forehead to the spot between her shoulder and throat. “They’ve pretty much been over for a while now.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  He smiled up at her and then tried to kiss her, but she pulled back.

  “You sure you can handle me?”

  “Not for a moment.” He tried to nuzzle her neck, but she pulled back again.

  “I’m still pissed at you.”

  He gave a moan of frustration. “Why?”

  “Eight years. Eight years and we could have been doing that.” She pointed over her shoulder to the bedroom. “What the hell, D’Angelo?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s make up for lost tim
e.”

  “Eight years,” she continued, “and we could have been having really good sex together.”

  He frowned. “Really good?”

  “Okay,” she relinquished, “mind blowing.”

  “Better.”

  She laughed, but he stopped it with his mouth. When he finally pulled away, she stood and tugged on his hand. “Ready to come back to bed.”

  “Oh, hell yes,” he said, following her.

  * * *

  Marco entered the precinct at 9:00AM the next morning. Maria glanced up at him and gave him a sympathetic look. He’d gotten the text message at 7:00. D’Angelo, my office, two hours. He figured he knew what the captain was going to say to him, but he only half gave a damn. He was obsessing over Peyton.

  He’d dropped her off at her house like she demanded, so she could shower and get clean clothes. He’d wanted to stay with her, but she’d insisted he go. He wasn’t sure what she planned to do today, but he didn’t like the thought of her being alone and vulnerable.

  The minute she’d pulled him down to kiss him, he knew he was lost. He knew this relationship was unbalanced. She held all of the cards and he would do anything she wanted him to do. He had no illusions about that. For eight years, he’d loved her, but now, now he knew he was hopelessly lost. A part of him realized he shouldn’t give her the reins, but the other part of him knew it was too late. He worshipped her. Almost losing her had only solidified that.

  “She’s waiting for you, baby.”

  He nodded and pushed open the half door.

  “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. You had no choice.” She rose to her feet and held out her hand.

  He took it, squeezing lightly. “Thank you, Maria.”

  He knocked on the captain’s door and waited.

  “Enter,” came her command.

  He pushed it open and found her sitting behind her desk, typing on her laptop. She didn’t even bother to point to her chairs. He crossed around and sank into one, rubbing his palms on his thighs. He wondered if Peyton had finished her shower yet. That was a vulnerable time and it made him anxious. He’d made her promise to take her gun into the bathroom with her.

  Captain Defino looked up at him, then lowered the lid on the laptop, clasping her hands on top. “You went off the reservation, D’Angelo.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Marco.

  “You disobeyed a direct order and circumvented my attempts to stop you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  He gave a brief nod.

  “And the Janitor escaped. Again. Do you know how we look to the other departments?”

  He didn’t think that required an answer. Had Peyton locked the front door? Had he checked the house enough? Where was her attic?

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  He forced himself to focus. “Look, Captain, I’ll accept whatever punishment you have for me. Just don’t take me off this case. This bastard has got to be caught.” He’s got to die, but he kept that thought to himself. “I heard his voice. I’m the only one who has. You’ve got to let me stay on at least that long. Then after we’ve got him, if you want my resignation, I’ll give it to you.”

  She cocked her head at him. “You think I want your resignation?”

  He shrugged.

  She exhaled and looked toward her dark windows. “You were supposed to be the stable one, D’Angelo, the voice of reason. You were supposed to anchor your partner.”

  He looked up at her. “I would do the same thing again if it came up.”

  “I know. This is why I told you your feelings for her were a problem.”

  He shifted in the chair. “Are you going to tell me you would have done differently? Are you telling me you’d have let her die?”

  Defino closed her eyes. “No, which is why you aren’t suspended.” She pointed a finger at him. “Yet. Once the chief hears about this, I may have no choice.”

  “He wants this serial killer caught as much as we do. I’m the only one who’s heard his voice.”

  Defino held out her hand, then let it fall. “There it is. But I can’t let you stay as Peyton’s partner. I’ve already requested a new detective be sent over to take your place.”

  “Captain?”

  “D’Angelo,” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t mess with me right now. You defied a direct order, you went off on your own. I should be pulling your badge, I should be demanding your resignation. She has to have a partner, but I’m damn sure not putting her back with you.” She made a fist. “If you’re too damn stupid to tell her what you feel, that’s your problem, but you will not be compromising my cases anymore.”

  He nodded and dropped his eyes.

  “You’ll be moving into your lieutenant’s roll, supervising the uniforms and the new detective, and you’ll stay away from Peyton.”

  Marco felt an overwhelming need to tell Defino there was nothing keeping him from Peyton now, but he tamped down on it. How many steps was it from her house to the Corolla? Were there any bushes that could obstruct her vision, keep her from seeing anyone hiding outside her house?

  “D’Angelo?”

  He blinked up at Defino. “Captain?”

  “Have you heard anything I’ve said?”

  “I’m not suspended yet, but once the chief hears, I might be. I’ll be moving into my position as lieutenant and supervising the uniforms and the new detective you’ve sent for to replace me as Peyton’s partner, and I’m too damn stupid.”

  Defino fought a smile. “You were the stable one, God damn it.”

  “He wanted me to kill him.”

  “What?”

  Marco drew a deep breath. “He wanted me to shoot him, a headshot, end it. He said he was tired of the killing.”

  Defino went still. “What else did he say?”

  “He likes Peyton. He said he liked her a lot. He threatened to…”

  “To?”

  Marco still couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  Defino thought for a moment. “To rape her?”

  Marco nodded stiffly.

  “Shit.”

  “He gave me a choice. I could come after him, he’d give me my one shot, or he would make her scream.”

  Defino didn’t answer for a long time. Together they sat and stared at her glass desktop. Marco worried over whether Peyton had checked if her gun was loaded. When was the last time she took target practice?

  “Did you recognize his voice?”

  “No.” Marco hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t exactly thinking logically, rationally at the time. He taunted me with her, he knew what he was doing. He knows us. He understands us.”

  “You’re letting him get in your head.”

  “He’s already there, Captain. He knew I’d do anything for her. Anything. Even kill him. He knew.”

  “Okay. Then think like him. We create a transcript of everything he’s said, every word he’s spoken. The letters to Jake, the text messages to you. Everything. If he’s in our heads, we crawl in his.”

  “If I find him, I can’t promise you I’ll take him alive.”

  Defino squinted at him. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.”

  * * *

  Marco wandered down to Stan’s office. As he passed Peyton’s empty desk, he fought with himself. He wanted to call her, he wanted to check up on her, but he knew that would go over like a lead balloon. She would accuse him of smothering her.

  They might have just become lovers, but he knew her. He knew the way she thought and she wouldn’t appreciate Marco, her lover, keeping tabs on her any more than she would tolerate Marco, her partner, doing it.

  He stopped in front of the table Stan had positioned across the door. Stan looked up, blinking at him from behind his thick glasses. He had a far off expression on his face, but he gave himself a little mental shake.

  “Hey, Marco, how’s Peyton?” The concern in his voice was genuin
e.

  “She’s holding it together. You know Peyton. She’s never going to admit something’s bothering her.”

  “I know, but still, it’s gotta be traumatizing. I can’t even imagine it. I sure hope she isn’t having trouble sleeping, you know, nightmares and such.”

  Marco shrugged. “She woke up a few times last night in a bit of a panic, but…” He caught himself. What the hell was he saying? Shit. He was so not the person to be keeping any secrets, apparently. “Anyway, um. That’s what she told me when I talked to her this morning. I mean, on the phone and…” He winced, forcing himself to stop.

  Stan gave him a bewildered look. “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “Look, Stan. Defino wants you to compile every communication we have from the Janitor. The letters he’s sent Jake, the text messages from my phone.” He drew it out of his pocket. “You can get those off this thing, right?”

  Stan took it. “Of course.”

  “Thanks. We need it as soon as you can pull it all together.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  Marco forced a smile. “Great.” He started to turn away.

  “Hey, Marco?”

  Marco looked back.

  “You think Peyton would mind if I stopped by to see her?”

  “What?”

  “I just want to see her. The other day really shook me up and...I don’t know. I thought we didn’t have a chance, but after what happened, I think maybe I want to pursue things with her.”

  “Pursue things?”

  “Yeah, maybe she’ll agree to date me. I mean we had a good time the other night at dinner. After what happened, I just realized I care about her a lot. Maybe she’s thinking the same thing.”

  “Uh…” Marco wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Sometimes an experience like that makes you see a person in a different light.”

  No kidding.

  “Makes you realize what you could have with someone. Reconfigures priorities.”

  Marco realized his mouth gaped open.

  “So, what do you think? Do you think it’d be okay to stop by? Bring her some flowers?”

  “I’m not sure. She might need a few days to just sort through things on her own.”