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

  Murder in the Presidio

  A Peyton Brooks’ Mystery

  Volume 6

  ML Hamilton

  Cover Art by Karri Klawiter

  www.artbykarri.com

  Photography by Jared Lugo

  Murder in the Presidio

  © 2013 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.

  Peyton and her friends have become such a part of my life that I think of them as actual people. This phenomena came true for me when a reader told me she saw someone who reminded her of Abe. How wonderful is that. It makes the journey so much sweeter. I didn’t know this would happen when I got the courage to show people what I wrote, but I’m so happy I took the risk. Thank you to all who follow Peyton’s adventures, thank you for your inspiration and your continued support.

  And thank you, as always, to my family for never once doubting me.

  I am so very blessed.

  “We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere.”

  ~ Ted Bundy

  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

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  “I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only, and if you lie to me, D’Angelo, I will pull your badge.”

  Katherine Defino was not a woman one took lightly. In a predominantly male occupation, she conducted her squad room with cool logic and professionalism. She never asked for more than she was willing to give herself and she was always fair.

  Marco knew she expected the same treatment in return. She would not accept less than honesty from him and she had a detective’s instincts. She knew when someone was lying to her. For the past eight years, he had followed police protocol to the letter, he never shirked his duty, and he never gave her any reason to doubt him. Until now.

  “Inspector D’Angelo,” said Defino in a voice heavy with import. “Are you in love with your partner?”

  Marco stared at the picture on her desk, the clear acrylic stapler that Peyton always played with, the holder for Defino’s business cards, and the black desk blotter that seemed so out of place on the clear glass surface, and he knew he couldn’t think fast enough to get out of this one.

  “Marco!” she said in warning.

  He lifted his eyes and met hers directly.

  “Yes,” he said.

  She slumped back in her chair, staring at a spot just over his left shoulder.

  He took a deep breath, knowing that everything depended on the next few minutes. Once she made up her mind, the odds of her changing it were slim. “Listen, Captain, nothing’s changed because of this.”

  She met his gaze. “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “No, Captain. Nothing’s happened. It’s just feelings, nothing more.”

  “Nothing more? It better not be anything more or I can’t allow you to stay her partner.”

  He drew a deep breath and leaned forward. “I have no intention of acting on these feelings and more than that, Peyton doesn’t feel the same.”

  “How can you know? You haven’t told her.”

  “But she’s made it clear to me. This job is the most important thing in her life and she would never risk it.”

  Defino shook her head. “She deserves to know.”

  “She absolutely does not.”

  “There’s no way you can continue working with her the same way now.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “How, D’Angelo? How the hell does that work?”

  “Because I’ve been doing it for the last eight years, Captain.”

  “What?” She sat forward. “Are you telling me you’ve been in love with her that long?”

  “Almost from the start.”

  Her face clouded over. “And you never thought to tell me?”

  “It wasn’t an issue until the damn shrink started messing with my head, and reporting everything to you.”

  “For eight years?”

  “Yes.”

  Defino stared at her desk. “I can’t believe this.”

  “That’s my point, Captain. I never gave anything away. I never slipped up once in all that time.”

  “It’s against protocol.”

  “How?” He held out a hand. “I’ve never acted on these feelings, and that’s all they are – feelings. I can understand if I had broken protocol or done anything about it, but I haven’t.” He dropped his hand against his thigh. “The truth is, Captain, the department doesn’t own my feelings, and other than that, I haven’t done a damn thing wrong.”

  She thought for a moment.

  Marco took it as a good sign.

  “She’s the best cop you have, Captain, better than I am. You can’t afford to lose her, not with a serial killer about to open up on the City again, but let’s be honest. She’s a loose cannon. Who else could work with her? Put up with the crap she pulls? You know I’m the best choice for protecting her, for keeping her safe.” He moved to the edge of his chair, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “You can’t chance letting her out on the street with anyone else. I’ve protected her for the last eight years and nothing that I’ve told you in the last few minutes diminishes that.”

  Defino slowly shook her head. “My duty is clear, Marco...”

  “It would be if anything had happened, but it hasn’t.”

  She started to speak, but the door flew open and Peyton rushed inside. “Captain, Marco was with me last night.”

  Defino gaped at her in astonishment.

  “I can vouch for him.”

  “Brooks, before you finish that, you should know he’s already told me he was home alone.”

  Marco could see Peyton’s shoulders slump.

  “Captain...” she pleaded.

  “Brooks, get the hell out of my office before I pull your badge.” The warning in Defino’s voice was implicit.

  Peyton shot Marco a desperate look. For a moment, he thought she would defy a direct order, but he refused to look at her or give her any encouragement whatsoever. Backing from the room, she let the door close behind her.

  Defino didn’t move for a moment, just stared at the blotter on her desk, her fingers curling into a fist on its surface. Marco tapped his boot on the floor, waiting. Finally, he looked up and met her gaze.

  “I’d swear you planned that if I didn’t know better,” she said.

  “She does make my points for me.”

  Defino exhaled heavily. “I can’t ignore this. I can’t ignore what Dr. Ferguson thought, but you have a point about the serial killer.”

  Marco nodded, not daring to speak.

  “I still think she deserves to know, but I won’t betray your confidence.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” He felt the knot in his belly ease at bit.


  “I’m also going to table my decision for a while, but the first sign of trouble, the very next mistake you make, D’Angelo, and I will make the change.”

  “I understand.”

  She moved forward in her chair so fast, he almost jumped. “I’m not kidding. You make one mistake, just one more lapse of judgment, and I pull the plug. No warning, no compromise, nothing.”

  Marco forced himself to breathe in and out. Slowly, he nodded.

  “And as soon as the serial killer is caught, I will be reevaluating my decision. Understand this is only because we are under a very serious threat. That is the only reason I’m not yanking you right now.”

  “Understood, Captain.”

  Defino leaned back in her chair. “If it were anyone else but Brooks, I wouldn’t hesitate to split you up, but Brooks...” She shook her head.

  Marco dared a half-smile.

  She pointed her finger at him. “Don’t be smug.”

  He schooled his face. “Never, Captain.”

  “You’re on leave until ballistics reports on your gun.”

  “Captain...”

  “Don’t, D’Angelo. I’m going against every instinct I have right now. Do not press me.”

  Marco rose to his feet and ducked his head in acquiescence. “Sorry, Captain.”

  “Go home and stay there.”

  “I will.”

  Defino gave him one last ominous look, pointing at the door.

  Marco beat a hasty retreat. He didn’t need a second warning.

  * * *

  Peyton waited for him on the other side of the door. He came to an abrupt halt and pulled the door closed behind him. Her dark eyes searched his face, a curl escaping her ponytail and trailing over her cheek.

  Maria sat at her desk, watching him, and Jake stood at her back, chewing on his upper lip. Marco glanced at both of them, wishing they weren’t here right now, but lately, wherever he went, there they were.

  “I’m so sorry, Marco,” Peyton began, clasping her hands before her.

  “Step outside with me,” he said, motioning to the front of the precinct. He didn’t wait to see if she would follow, just headed that direction, shoving open the half door and holding it for her. She ducked her head as she moved in front of him and pulled open the glass doors, stepping onto the landing.

  He crossed around her, so he faced the precinct. He could see Jake and Maria watching them. A moment later, Defino’s door opened and she stepped out.

  “What happened with Detective Acosta and Meilin Fan?” he asked.

  She blinked a few times, shaking her head. “What?”

  “Did you get a confession?”

  “Ah.” She shook her head again. “No, no confession, but Detective Acosta believes she has enough evidence to get a conviction in Florida. We’re going to start extradition proceedings right away.”

  “Good. Make sure it goes through. Don’t leave anything to chance.”

  She lifted her head and gave him a bewildered look. “Okay?”

  He watched the three people in the precinct, then glanced down at her. “We need a win, Brooks.”

  Peyton hugged her arms around herself. “She wants to break up our team, doesn’t she?”

  His attention fixed on her. “Did she tell you that?”

  Peyton nodded miserably. “Are you suspended?”

  “Yes.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Marco shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t do well when women cried, but for some reason, he did the worst when it was Peyton. He reached out and caught her arm at the elbow. “Don’t,” he whispered.

  “It’s my fault. They all warned me not to go in there.”

  He exhaled. “Actually, that was probably the thing that saved us this time.”

  She frowned, but her eyes continued to shimmer. “What?”

  He wasn’t sure how to tell her this, but he knew she wouldn’t leave it alone. “I told her no one else would be able to work with you. Then you burst through the door.”

  Her jaw firmed, but her eyes still looked liquid. “You what?”

  “You aren’t really going to dispute that, are you?”

  She looked out at the parking lot. “Why do you keep getting suspended?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Wait. You didn’t ask me if I did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “Shoot Junior Walker.”

  She waved him off. “I know you didn’t do that.”

  He smiled at her, he couldn’t help it. No matter what, she always had faith in him. “I’ll be back as soon as Ballistics tests my gun.”

  She nodded, still not making eye contact.

  “Brooks?”

  “What if she splits us up, Marco?”

  “We’ll deal with it. Don’t worry about that right now. Just make sure the Meilin Fan extradition goes through.”

  Finally she looked at him, her eyes swimming in tears. “How can I not worry about it? You’re right. Who else would put up with me?”

  He laughed. “Not another damn soul, and that’s certain.”

  She shivered in the cool San Francisco air and a tear spilled down her cheek.

  He glanced at the faces behind the glass, then leaned close to her. “If we solve the serial killer case, I’ll bet you we can ask for anything we want and get it.”

  She searched his face.

  “You hear me?”

  “I hear you,” she said.

  He straightened. “Man up, Brooks. I’m going home like Defino told me, but I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Will you come over and have dinner with us?”

  He shook his head, his gaze fixed on Defino. “That’s not a good idea right now, but I’ll give you a call.”

  She wiped the tears away. “I guess I can’t hug you, can I?”

  He wanted to tell her no, but she had always been so affectionate with everyone she knew. Would walking away from her under these circumstances without giving her a hug look strange, like he was trying too hard?

  He stepped closer to her and pulled her into his arms. She encircled his waist and pressed her forehead to his chest. He closed his eyes briefly. No use wanting things that would never be. Why the hell couldn’t he stop himself for both their sakes?

  She pulled back first. “I better go in.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Hold your head up, okay?”

  She nodded and turned away from him, lifting her chin as she moved toward the glass doors. Marco caught Jake’s eyes as she stepped back inside, then he backed to the stairs and headed for the Charger, forcing himself not to turn around again.

  * * *

  Abe tilted the wine bottle and filled her glass again. He sat at the foot of her bed, his long legs crisscrossed before him. Pickles lounged in his lap, all four paws waving in the air. Peyton sat with her back pressed to the headboard, her knees tented, her arms wrapped around them. She wore a baggy pair of grey sweats and a white tank-top. Her dark curls lay damply on her shoulders.

  “I think Pickles would look fantastic in braids with different colored beads on the ends.”

  She took a sip of wine. “You’re not giving my dog dread locks.”

  He flashed a smile filled with teeth. “Where’s Maria tonight?”

  “Date.”

  “With Nate Cho?”

  “Who else?”

  “They’ve been together a lot lately.”

  Peyton shrugged.

  “And Jake?”

  “He’s messing with pictures in his room. He hates it when I’m mopey.”

  “We all do, sweetie.”

  She kicked him with a sock-clad foot.

  He leaned over and grabbed a slice of pizza, folding it with his long, elegant fingers. “Do you want me and Pickles to leave you to the mopes?”

  “No, don’t you dare.”

  “Then you’d best treat us with a little respect.” He nodded at the wine glass. “You need to eat something.”
<
br />   She snagged a piece of pizza, but she couldn’t fold it the way he did. His brows lifted and he reached for a napkin, handing it to her.

  “Probably not the best idea to eat in one’s bed,” she remarked.

  “Especially if you ever want another man to share it.”

  She took a bite, chewing and swallowing. “I don’t think you have to worry about that ever again.”

  Abe rolled his eyes. “I love you something fierce, lil bits, but I don’t do whiney. You need to pull yourself together. I can hang with the drinking and the eating in bed, but the prison greys and the pity party are so not my scene.”

  Peyton couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you – a character from one of those cheesy 60’s beach movies?”

  “As entertainment goes, that is an art form many people just didn’t understand.”

  “Oh, I think they understood it, all right. It was pretty much chicks in bikinis and dudes with long hair and bad dialogue.”

  Abe gave a dreamy look. “Who doesn’t love dudes in bikinis?”

  “Chicks in bikinis.”

  “Chicks?” He made a face. “Who wants to see that?”

  “Dudes with long hair.”

  “This conversation is devolving. We need more wine.” He reached for the bottle and filled both of their glasses.

  Peyton noticed however, that his hadn’t diminished as much as hers. “You’re not keeping up.”

  He lifted his glass and studied it in the light from her bedside lamp. “Wine is just so blasé.”

  “Blasé?”

  “Means unexcited, jaded, unmoved.”

  “I know what it means.”

  “Well, why’d you ask?”

  “Most people would disagree with you. Most people find wine very stimulating.”

  Abe made a face. “I am most definitely not most people. I like my drinks with a bit more color.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  He settled the glass on the floor and scratched Pickles’ belly. The little dog gave a groan of pleasure. “So why are we moping in the bedroom again?”

  “Marco’s been suspended and Defino wants to split up our team.”

  Abe considered that for a moment, pursing his lips. “My Angel has been suspended a lot lately.”