Zombies in the Delta (Peyton Brooks, FBI Book 1) Page 5

  He held her off, placing his hand under her chin. “Well, I guess if it takes me a lifetime to make you feel secure, I’ll do it.”

  She smiled. “God, that was so good.”

  “I know, wasn’t it?”

  She laughed. “Do you want to make dinner now, or do you think you can wait for later?”

  “I can always wait for later.”

  She curled her hand in his and turned toward the door, but her eyes chanced on the Jack Daniels bottle. “I’m worried about your leg. Why is it hurting you so bad?”

  “I had to walk five blocks to my psych appointment today,” he said, easing past her and tugging her toward the bedroom. “Come on. Take my mind off the pain.”

  She let him pull her. “How was the appointment with Dr. Ferguson?”

  “Do we have to talk about it right now?”

  “No, but I’ll want an update later.”

  “Well, I can sum it up pretty quick right here. We’re going to church on Sunday.”

  “Church?” She pulled back at the door to the bedroom. “You bring that up now?”

  He gave her a confused look. “What?”

  “I can’t go in there with you now.”

  “Why not?”

  “You brought up church.”

  He shook his head in bewilderment. “You’re giving me mixed signals, woman.”

  “Well, why did you have to bring up church? Now all I can think about is God watching us.”

  He moved back to her, sliding his arm around her waist. “Don’t think about God. Think about your poor fiancé and his aching...leg.”

  She laughed. “You’re terrible.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “You won’t be saying that in a few minutes. I promise you.”

  Peyton closed her eyes and let herself give in to temptation.

  CHAPTER 4

  Margaret had a cup of coffee waiting for Peyton the next morning, but there were two packets of sugar, instead of one. Peyton smiled. She still didn’t think Margaret needed to wait on her, but it was nice to have someone trying to make her feel welcome. It still wasn’t enough sugar, but she was getting closer.

  Peyton fixed the coffee and took a sip, reaching over to boot up her computer. The stack of files on her desk had grown over night, making Peyton sigh. If this was all she was ever going to do, she was never going to make it a month in this job.

  Margaret poked her head inside the door a half hour later. “Sarge called a meeting in the conference room for 9:00.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Margaret smiled at her and glanced into the half empty cup of coffee, then she disappeared again. Peyton went back to sorting files, trying to triage the ones she thought she’d have a hope of getting any traction on. Keeping an eye on the clock, she tried to concentrate, but she wasn’t sure if she was expected to be early to the meeting or right on time. Would arriving early look like she was trying to duck out of sorting files or would arriving on time open her up for criticism from Rosa?

  This insecurity was new to her. At the precinct, she’d known how to read Captain Defino and her co-workers. She’d learned all the nuances of getting along and never had a problem, but here everything was different.

  Bambi tried to be friendly, but Radar didn’t seem impressed with her and she’d only met Tank once. Margaret was easy to please, but Rosa Alvarez was a whole other matter. She and Peyton had history and every time Peyton looked at Rosa, she couldn’t forget it.

  At five to 9:00, she went down to the conference room. The entire team was assembled, except Rosa. Peyton took a seat at the table next to Emma. The blond flashed a smile at her.

  “It was fun meeting your friend yesterday. He’s a wild one, isn’t he?”

  Peyton nodded in agreement. “That he is.”

  Emma leaned back, giving Peyton a once-over. “I like the suit he picked out. Maybe he should take me shopping so I don’t look like a dowdy old housewife?”

  Peyton wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t think Emma could ever look dowdy, even if she wore a garbage bag. “Maybe next time,” she offered.

  Emma gripped Peyton’s arm, lowering her voice and leaning close. “I want us to be friends. This is the first time we’ve had another woman on the Ghost Squad, so I’m excited.”

  Peyton considered that. Interesting. So the Ghost Squad had been established before Rosa came along.

  As if conjured by the thought, Rosa strode into the conference room and stopped at the head of the table, laying a file down in front of her. “We have a case.”

  Radar blew out air and Emma gave a little clap.

  “This is always so exciting,” she stage-whispered to Peyton.

  Peyton gave her a tight smile.

  “What is it?” asked Radar.

  “Zombies.”

  Peyton blinked, sitting back in her chair. She must have heard wrong.

  Emma gave a squeal of delight. Tank and Radar exchanged a smile. Rosa nodded in agreement.

  “Um,” said Peyton, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry. I must have heard you wrong. I heard you say zombies?”

  “You heard me right, Agent Brooks. I said zombies.”

  Peyton glanced over at her team, but they were too busy celebrating the news. “Zombies?”

  “That’s right.” Rosa tilted her head. “What exactly did you think Ghost Squad meant, Agent Brooks?”

  “That we were an elite force which moved so mysteriously we were like shadows in the night. Ghosts.”

  Everyone stared at her.

  “No,” said Rosa simply. She opened the file and picked up a glossy 8x10, tossing it into the middle of the table. “Meet John Doe. His skull was bashed in, and then someone ate his face, finishing up with his brains. They found him in an alley in a Sacramento Delta town called Locke.”

  Peyton looked away, closing her eyes. The image lying in the middle of the table looked like hamburger meat with some vaguely human features.

  “Awesome!” breathed out Emma beside her.

  Peyton’s eyes flashed opened, staring at her.

  “That’s so cool!”

  Peyton carefully avoided looking at the photo herself.

  “No ID, eh?” asked Radar.

  “None.”

  “I’m sorry, I realize I’m new here” said Peyton, looking over at Rosa. “But can you explain how this is an FBI case? It sounds like local police.”

  “This is the third zombie murder in the past six months. People are getting scared and the Governor requested us specifically, so does that answer your question?”

  Peyton clamped her mouth shut, keeping her eyes elevated so she didn’t have to look at the photo again.

  “Bambi and Tank, get the gear together and commission a Suburban for the drive out to Sacramento. Radar, take the rookie here to see Igor. The body arrived about thirty minutes ago.”

  “Got it.”

  Peyton glanced around. Igor? Shit, that didn’t sound good.

  “Come on, Sparky.”

  Peyton pushed herself to her feet and followed him from the room. He immediately set off walking around the perimeter of the cubicle jungle toward the elevators. Peyton jogged to catch up.

  “Radar, who had my job before me?”

  Radar shot her a dismissive look. “Arthur Greene.”

  “Did he retire?”

  “Nope. He’s pushing up daisies in Woodlawn Cemetery.”

  Peyton stopped walking. “I’m sorry.”

  Radar hesitated and looked back at her. “He was my best friend. He took a bullet for me in a shootout when we were breaking up a dog fighting ring in Petaluma. Saved my life.” He gave a chuckle. “We always called him Flash. He was always the first in the door. You never could get him to wait.”

  “I’m sorry, Radar. I almost lost my partner last fall. It...uh, damn near ended me.”

  “No one understands what it’s like unless you’ve been there.”

  She nodded, thinking of Marco. In fact, Marco was seldom far from he
r thoughts nowadays.

  “Come on. Igor’s waiting for us.” He started walking again.

  “I’m probably going to regret asking, but who’s Igor?”

  “Our medical examiner.”

  “You know you people are horrible at nicknames, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bambi for a woman who looks like a porn star, Radar for a crack shot, and Tank for a man as big as a freakin’ tank. They suck. They’re so obvious. Igor?” She held up a hand and let it fall. “Really? For an M.E.? Igor?”

  He stopped in front of the elevators, pushing the button. A laugh rumbled out of him. “You got a problem with Sparky.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you want to be called? Rook?”

  “I want to be called Peyton. Peyton works.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. “Sure enough, Sparky,” he said.

  He punched the button for a floor one above their own, then they stood silently waiting for it to climb. Peyton shifted uncomfortably. She should probably tell him about her aversion to dead bodies, but she was afraid it made her seem weak and she was suspecting Radar already thought she was weak. His choice of a pet poodle’s name for her reinforced that idea.

  Before she could get up the courage, the elevator came to a stop and released them into a sterile white lobby with linoleum floors and white painted walls. Radar reached for his badge and crossed the lobby, swiping it against a reader next to a glass door. The glass doors hissed open and he stepped through. Peyton jogged to keep up. They walked straight down a long hallway. Heavily reinforced doors broke up the austere bank of walls on either side of them. None of the doors were open and beside each one was a silver placard, labeling the various labs.

  Radar turned left and continued walking, stopping before another reinforced non-descript door exactly in the middle of the hallway on their left. He pressed a button by the door.

  “Yes?” came a high, reedy voice.

  “Igor, it’s Radar.”

  Peyton had a moment to wonder if she weren’t in one of Stan Neumann’s graphic novels about superheroes battling supervillains, but then she reminded herself that her first case with the FBI was for zombies, so anything seemed rational after that.

  The lock buzzed and Radar pushed the door open. Peyton reluctantly followed. A bald man bent over a body on a stainless steel table. He wore a white lab coat and blue latex gloves. The body was covered in a white drape, but the head was exposed – or what was left of the head, which wasn’t much. Peyton swallowed hard.

  “Will you look at this, Radar?” said Igor, smiling at them. He wore black rimmed glasses, his blue eyes bright behind magnified lenses. “Oh, who is this?”

  Radar motioned Peyton forward. She fixed her eyes at a spot on the white walls and moved to his side. “This is Peyton Brooks. She’s the newest member of the Ghost Squad, Igor. Peyton, this is Ivan Romanowski.”

  Peyton forced a smile for him. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same with you. I’d shake your hand, but I’ve got brains all over mine.”

  Peyton gave a jerky nod and lifted her eyes to the wall again.

  Igor returned to the body. “This is a fascinating case. See here. There’s actual teeth marks in the flesh. I might be able to get a dental impression.”

  “What about DNA?” asked Radar.

  “I’m sending a sample of the brain tissue into the lab.” He held up a pink fluid in a petri dish. “Hopefully, we’ll get two separate DNA strands – one from our vic and the other from our perp. But, take a look at this. Looks like our perp bashed in his skull, then used his bare hands to pry back the bone to get at the brain.” He reached for another dish, shaking it. “Guess what this is?”

  “Looks like a fingernail.”

  Peyton tried to breathe through her mouth. She could feel a prickle of cold sweat along her temple and between her breasts. Black spots were appearing in her peripheral vision.

  “Yep. Now, here’s the fascinating part. There’s a long historical record of cannibalism among humans. In fact, some scientists believe that Neanderthals engaged in cannibalism and were themselves cannibalized by modern humans.”

  “How does that apply here?”

  “Eating human flesh causes a prion disease. If your perp’s been eating human flesh for very long, especially organs, odds are he’s going to be sick. Very sick.”

  Peyton glanced at Igor. “Sick how? Like Mad Cow disease?”

  “Exactly.” Igor smiled at her. “Very clever, Agent Brooks.”

  Peyton felt a flush of pride. For the last four days she’d felt out of her depth here. It was nice to feel like she had something to offer.

  “What symptoms would we be looking for?” asked Radar.

  “Oh,” said Igor, straightening. “Behavior, definitely. Aggression, anxiety, disinhibition.”

  “Disinhibition?”

  “Uninhibited behavior. Socially inappropriate behaviors.”

  “Like eating someone’s brains?” asked Peyton.

  “Well, yes. That is frowned upon in our society, but I have to tell you there’s an ancient history of anthropophagy.”

  “Eating people?” asked Peyton.

  “Right. In Papua New Guinea, the Korowai tribe has practiced cannibalism until relatively recently, although some reports suggest that very recent incidents may have been a rumor started to increase tourism. However, there is evidence that it was practiced in a ritualistic way.” He leaned toward her and Peyton found herself leaning away. “Most often, the brains were consumed first, while they were still warm.”

  That did it.

  Peyton took a step back from the table and turned, moving toward the door to get away from the smells and sights. Placing her hand on the wall, she closed her eyes and fought the roaring in her ears.

  “You okay, Sparky.”

  She held up a hand, but she couldn’t speak just yet.

  “Okay. All that’s fascinating, Igor, but why would someone in California practice anthropophagy?”

  Igor paused. “That’s your job, Radar. No offense, mind you, but I just give you the science and you do the Sherlock Holmesing.”

  “Anything else you can tell us?”

  “Besides the fact that the vic appears to be Asian in ethnicity. I just got the body, so I haven’t had time to do a full autopsy, but I’ll get you that information as soon as I can. I also asked for the other two bodies, so they should arrive later today.” He gave a laugh. “I have to repeat that I find this case fascinating. We have so few modern cases of anthropophagy to study. And once you catch the guy, oh my! I’ve been wanting to get my hands on a good prion disease case study for a long time, I can tell you.”

  Peyton looked back over her shoulder at him in disbelief. Was he serious? This was just a fascinating scientific study? The guy on the table before him had his brain eaten by another human being!

  Radar chuckled. “Glad to get you back in business, Igor. Look, we’re headed out to Sacramento, so send us anything you’ve got as you uncover it.”

  Igor nodded. “Nice to meet you, Agent Brooks.”

  “Same,” she said and pushed the button for the lab door.

  Radar met her on the other side. “You okay?”

  She wiped her hand across her hairline and drew a breath of fresh, unzombie tainted air. “Yeah.”

  “PTSD?”

  “No, I hate dead bodies. I’ve always hated dead bodies, and I will never get over hating dead bodies.”

  Radar tilted his head at her. “And yet…”

  “I became a homicide detective. I know. Ironic. I hear it all the time.”

  “All righty then. Can’t think up a good nickname around that. Fainty? Pukey? Naw. Guess you’re stuck with Sparky.”

  “Thanks. There’s a guy in there without half a brain, but it’s good we’re thinking about my nickname right now.”

  Radar laughed. “Yep, Sparky it is.”

  Peyton shook her head.
<
br />   He moved toward the elevator. “You coming?”

  “Yeah. Hey, Radar, would it be okay if I called my fiancé to tell him I’ll be home late?”

  “Just don’t reveal intimate details of our case, and it’s fine.”

  “Can I tell him we’re investigating zombies?”

  Radar pushed the button on the elevator. “I’d think you were nuts if you didn’t.”

  * * *

  Marco reached for his cell phone and thumbed it on. “Hey?”

  “Hey. How’s work?” came Peyton’s voice.

  “Jake’s my secretary.”

  “Jake? I thought Maria was finding you someone.”

  “Apparently the secretary pool is slim.”

  “Have you had Jake do anything yet?”

  “I had him text Devan and ask him for a meeting on that case I told you about last night.”

  “The girl who committed suicide.”

  Marco swiveled his chair to look out the window. “Yep.”

  “Bet you’re excited to talk to Devan.”

  “Ecstatic.”

  “Don’t punch him in the nose, okay? He has a baby on the way.”

  “Got it. So, what’s up?”

  “We got a case.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Zombies.”

  Marco frowned. “Come again? I thought I heard zombies.”

  “You heard right. It’s zombies. I just viewed a body with half his face eaten away, in addition to a good chunk of his brain.”

  Marco grimaced. “I’ll bet you loved that.”

  “Damn near made me sick.”

  He laughed. “Well, I guess you know what Ghost Squad means now.”

  “Sure do. Look, we’re headed out to Sacramento, so I might be late tonight.”

  “Okay. I’ll save you some dinner.”

  “Thank you.” She paused and when she spoke again, she’d dropped her voice. “Hey, maybe after I get home I’ll try on another one of those outfits I bought with Maria and Abe.”

  Marco smiled. “I’d like that. Although I have to say I enjoyed that sexy little number you were wearing last night.”

  “Wearing? I didn’t wear it long.”

  “Exactly.”

  She laughed then. “I’ll see you later, Marco baby.”