Zombies in the Delta (Peyton Brooks, FBI Book 1) Read online

  Peyton motioned for Radar to give her a card. “This is our number. If you think of anything, will you call us?”

  “Of course.”

  Radar and Sharpe rose to their feet. Peyton took another sip of her lemonade and rose with them, holding out her hand for Agnes. Agnes took it, allowing Peyton to help her stand.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Agnes.”

  “Same here,” Agnes answered. “I wish I’d been more help.”

  “You helped us a lot.” She started to turn toward the door, but stopped. “If I can ask, what sort of cancer does your son have?”

  “It’s called brain stem glioma or something like that.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She gave a sad smile. “So am I, Agent Brooks.”

  “He’s in a good place for treatment though.”

  “That’s what they tell me. It’s just so hard. He wants to keep the farm, but he can’t work it anymore. He’s so weak and the tremors are terrible.”

  “Tremors?”

  “Yes. The tumor’s pressing on the spinal cord or something.”

  “Again, I’m so sorry, Agnes.”

  “Aren’t you sweet.” She patted Peyton’s back as she walked them to the door. “Feel free to visit me anytime, Agent Brooks. You’re a delight to have around.”

  They left the house, walking toward their cars. Peyton nudged Radar with her shoulder. “Did you hear what she said?”

  “Yeah, I heard her,” he grumbled. “We got less than nothing out of that.”

  “We established that I’m a delight to have around.”

  Radar glared at her. “You’re right. What the hell was I thinking? That made the two hour drive completely worth it.”

  “It did for me,” said Peyton, unable to hide her smirk.

  * * *

  Carly poked her head inside Marco’s office. “Captain D’Angelo?”

  “Yes.” He looked up from his computer.

  “I got this phone message from a Jake Ryder. Is that the guy I met this morning?”

  “Yes, what did he say?”

  She lifted a scrap of paper and read it. “Tell Captain: Adams got his warrants. Courier will be by in an hour with them.”

  “Good. Bring them in as soon as they arrive.”

  She held something up.

  He narrowed his eyes on her. “What’s that?”

  “The warrants.”

  “Wait. You said a courier will bring them in an hour.”

  “No, you asked me what the message said. I just retrieved it.”

  Marco realized his mouth was open.

  “I probably should have got the message an hour ago, right?”

  “Or answered the phone when he called. Or even just brought me the warrants.”

  “Right.” She stepped inside the office and handed him the envelope. “I’m sorry. I just need a little time to adjust.”

  Marco opened the envelope and pulled the warrants out. Devan had gotten him everything he wanted. He reached for his cane. “I’m going to meet with Stan Neumann, then I have a doctor’s appointment. I’ll be on my cell. Did Maria give you the number?”

  “Yep. I’ve got it on my desk.”

  “Call if anything comes up.”

  “Sure. Who’s Stan Neumann?”

  “Our tech guy. His office is behind the conference room.”

  “Oh, good.”

  Nathan Cho poked his head inside Marco’s door. Cho didn’t top five six, but there was something about the man that gave off a deadly aura. Marco considered him one of the best detectives in the entire force and a personal friend.

  “Captain, we just got a call. Head shop burnt down in the Haight Ashbury. Fire department found a body in the rubble. Looks like arson. They want us to investigate. You want Simons and me on it, or Shotwell?”

  Marco moved around his desk. “Why do they suspect homicide?”

  “Guy was doused in gasoline. He’s what sent the shop up in flames.”

  As Marco and Cho moved into the precinct, Tag came to a halt in front of them. “Holmes and I want this one. I’m going stir crazy here.”

  Marco glanced at Cho. Shit. Now what?

  Cho held up his hands.

  A moment later Simons and Holmes appeared from the back. Damn it, they were going to make him decide and whatever he chose, someone was going to be pissed. He hated this. Peyton would know who to choose. Peyton would know how to soften the blow so no one got mad.

  He just had to think like Peyton. Ha! That was funny.

  “Cho brought me the case first, so it’s theirs.”

  Tag made a derisive noise.

  “Besides, I hate arson cases. They’re so damn sneaky and hard to get a handle on. We need two experienced inspectors on it. The next case is yours, Tag.”

  She gave another huff, then turned and walked away. Cho gave him a pat on the back as he and Simons headed for their desks. Marco wondered when he’d stop agonizing over every freakin’ decision he had to make.

  Forcing the worry to the back of his mind, he limped off to Stan Neumann’s lair. Stan Neumann, the tech guru, had converted a supply closet into his office. One table covered the door with a small space to squeeze through, while a second table along the back wall was covered in laptops and tablets, all turned on and generating heat. Above Stan’s head were shelves bulging with action figures, kept in their pristine boxes, never having been touched by human hands.

  Stan Neumann himself was the stereotypical nerd. He wore coke-bottle glasses, his brown hair parted on the side and mussed. He wore converse sneakers – Marco had never seen him in anything else – and usually a t-shirt that sported some clever witticism that frankly went beyond Marco – things like May the mass times acceleration be with you and Trek yourself before you wreck yourself.

  Still, he was a genius and a third of their cases would never be solved without him. He was also half-in-love with Peyton and for some reason, that devotion earned him a soft place in Marco’s heart. He didn’t view him as a threat, but he did appreciate Stan’s taste in women.

  “Hey, Stan,” he said, leaning on the door. He sure as hell didn’t want to wedge himself between Stan’s table and the door jamb. Besides that, there was barely enough room for Stan in the closet.

  “Hey, Marco. I mean, Captain. Sorry, still getting used to that.”

  “No problem.” Marco held the warrants out to him. “I’ve got a case I need to investigate. Girl’s name is Carissa Phelps. Apparently, she was the victim of revenge porn.”

  Stan took the warrants. “Was? She’s dead?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Murdered? How?”

  “Suicide.”

  Stan glanced up over his glasses. “Suicide?’

  “I know. It’s just…her folks feel like the guy who posted the videos drove her to kill herself. They want to pursue it. Devan got me the warrants, so let’s see what we can find. Maybe if we get enough evidence, Devan will take the case.”

  “So you want me to pull together whatever I can find, right?”

  “Right.”

  “You know, some of it will be…” He shifted uncomfortably.

  “I know.” Marco glanced down. “Just find whatever you can.”

  “Hey, Adonis?” came Jake’s voice behind him.

  “Captain.”

  “Captain Adonis, I have to go take pictures of Cho and Simons’ barbecue.”

  Marco grimaced. “Really, Ryder.”

  “Hey, I just take the pictures. I can’t help it if it’s a freakin’ nightmare. Dinner’s at 6:00, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Should I bring anything?”

  “No.”

  Jake gave him a thumbs up and headed toward the front of the precinct. Marco felt Stan’s eyes on him. “Peyton invited him over for dinner.”

  Stan’s brows rose.

  “So his dog can play with Pickles.”

  Stan continued to stare.

  “It’s just for the dogs.�
�

  Stan crossed his arms.

  “I’ve gotta get to a doctor’s appointment.” Marco took a step back. “Text me if you find anything interesting. Otherwise, I’ll meet back up with you on Monday.”

  Stan gave a lift of his chin.

  Marco offered him an uncomfortable smile, then turned away.

  * * *

  Marco opened the door and was nearly bowled over by an enthusiastic canine greeting. Peyton hurried and caught Tater by the collar, hauling him back.

  “Sorry.”

  “He used to be better behaved.”

  “Well, Jake’s had him, so…”

  “Yeah.” He stepped into the house.

  Peyton scooped up Pickles with her other hand, but Marco took the little dog from her and then reached down to scratch Tater’s ear.

  “So, do I have to call you Captain Adonis here too?” called Jake from the kitchen.

  Peyton and Marco exchanged a look. Easing into the living room, Marco forced a smile. Smells assailed him, some pleasant, some not. Abe had covered their counters with various dishes and he was fussing with something beside the stove.

  He looked over his shoulder, his dreads hanging far down his back. “Hey, Angel, come brighten my day with your pretty face.”

  “Abe, how are you?”

  “Better now that you’re here. Come sit down and try some of these samples.”

  Marco settled Pickles on the couch and loosened his tie. “Let me change first.” He pulled Peyton to his side, kissing the top of her head. “What’s all this?”

  “Samples for our wedding dinner.”

  Marco gave a groan, then limped toward the bedroom.

  Peyton followed him. “What did the doctor say?”

  He shrugged out of his coat and reached for the closet door. “Everything’s fine.”

  Peyton took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Fine? How can it be fine? Did you tell him about the pain?”

  He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Yes.”

  “And that’s fine?”

  “It’s expected.”

  “Did he take an x-ray?”

  “He said if he took any more x-rays I’d start glowing at night.”

  She frowned.

  He reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Stop worrying. Now, unless you want to shut that door and forget we have company, you should go back out there.” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I’m voting for shutting the door.”

  She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Can I go with you to the next appointment?”

  “There isn’t one. I’m fine and I’m cleared for duty. It’s just gonna take time. Now, go or I promise you…”

  She danced out of his arms. “Hurry up, okay? Some of the stuff Abe made looks ripe.”

  Marco sighed. “Just what I want to hear.”

  She gave him a half-smile and left, shutting the door behind her.

  He sank on the bed and pressed his knuckles into his thigh, closing his eyes. He hated lying to Peyton, but he didn’t see any way around it. He hadn’t made a return appointment because he couldn’t see the need for it. Basically, the leg was as good as it was going to get. No use trying to make it something it wasn’t.

  He changed into jeans and a t-shirt, then went back into the living room. Taking a seat on the barstool, he gave Jake a critical look. “How’d it go at the head shop?”

  Jake shrugged, lifting his beer for a sip. “If you’ve seen one burnt body, you’ve seen them all.”

  Abe turned, tray in hand. “No shop talk tonight. This is a celebration.” He held the tray out to Marco. A very strong ocean scent wafted up from the circle of cucumber with a dark gelatinous center. “Try one, my Angel’D.”

  “What is it?”

  “Smoked eel and cucumber.”

  Marco reared back. “Eel?”

  Abe dramatically closed his eyes. “You’re trying my last creative nerve with this vegetarian crap, darlin’. Eel’s hardly an animal. It’s more like a snake. Snake is practically vegetarian.”

  “Snake is not vegetarian.” He cast a look at the other trays. “Do you have snake here too?”

  “No!” Then he paused. “Well?” He pressed a finger to his lips and looked at the trays himself. “No.”

  Peyton and Jake were fighting a laugh.

  “No eel, no snake, no flesh!” said Marco firmly.

  “Fine.” He reached for another tray with round white balls on it. “How do you feel about salak pondoh?”

  “What’s wrong with pasta?”

  Abe gasped. “Pasta? You expect a wedding that I’m organizing to have pasta? Next you’re going to ask me to dress you in a tux.”

  Marco’s gaze shifted to Peyton. She gave an amused lift of her shoulders.

  They tried Abe’s various dishes, ending up picking only two. One thing about Abe – you couldn’t get him discouraged. He vowed to find exotic dishes that they would love and promised their next meeting would be to discuss their wedding theme.

  Marco felt his insides twist on that one. He’d never heard of a wedding theme before and he felt damn sure that whatever theme Abe picked would have him parachuting into the church wearing a loincloth or something.

  While Abe washed the many silver and crystal platters he’d brought, Peyton rescued them by ordering a pizza. Finally Marco and Jake were able to retreat to the living room and turn on the baseball game. Leaning back on the couch, he elevated his leg on the coffee table with Pickles curled on his lap. Jake brought him a beer and for the first time all day, he felt the tension ease out of him.

  Climbing onto the couch next to him, Peyton snuggled into his side. He put his arm around her and played with a curl. After a while, she laid her head on his chest and relaxed against him. It wasn’t long before he could feel the even rhythm of her breathing and knew she was asleep. He kissed her forehead and his gaze met Jake’s.

  Jake gave him a wistful smile. Marco figured he was probably remembering a similar time with his own wife. Resting his cheek on Peyton’s head, he drew a deep breath. He couldn’t give a damn about weddings and receptions, exotic food or dressing in fancy clothes. What he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with this woman, waking beside her, building a life together. All he wanted was Peyton.

  CHAPTER 6

  Peyton picked up her phone and looked at the text message. Li Wang out of town until Tuesday. Sharpe got us a meet and greet for 10:00AM. Enjoy your weekend off, Sparky. Radar. She glanced down at Pickles. The little dog was waiting patiently by his bowl for his after breakfast treat.

  “What do you say to a road trip?” she asked him.

  He cocked his head.

  She poured a mug of coffee and carried it to the bedroom. Marco lay sprawled under the covers, one arm over his eyes blocking out the sunlight. She settled the mug on the nightstand beside him and leaned over, kissing him.

  He moved his arm, sliding his hand behind her neck and keeping her in place.

  She pulled back a little. “Wake up. I’ve got the weekend off. Let’s go play.”

  He slid his other hand up her hip. “Come back to bed and I’ll show you how to play,” he purred at her.

  She braced her hands on his chest. “No, we can play like that anytime. This is a day off, Marco. Let’s go to the Delta.”

  He frowned at her. “Delta?”

  “Yeah. I want to show you the little town where the zombie attack happened and then explore some of the other towns. We’ll take Pickles.” She moved out of his grasp, deliberately putting distance between them. She knew him too well. He’d have her giving in if she didn’t break contact. He always got her to give in. “I brought you coffee.”

  He rolled his head on the pillow and stared at it, then pushed himself upright and reached for the mug, taking a swallow. “The Delta, huh?”

  “Yeah, when I was there the other day, I saw a lot of art galleries. Maybe we can find an interesting piece for the living room.”

  That caught his at
tention. Marco liked looking at art. With their new salaries, they were actually in a place where they might be able to afford something.

  “Okay. Let me get a shower,” he said.

  “I’ll go walk Pickles.”

  He caught her hand and pulled her back around. “Or you could join me?”

  She gave him a quick kiss. “Not a chance, buddy. We’ll never get out of the bedroom then.”

  He reluctantly let her go. “I better get some art out of this.”

  She smiled and started for the door.

  Just as she stepped into the hall, she heard his sharp inhalation followed by a curse. She turned around. He was doubled over, clutching his thigh. She started to go back inside, but hesitated. It usually took him a few minutes to loosen the muscles after keeping the leg elevated all night and he got a bit testy if she asked him if he was all right.

  She waited out of sight until he straightened. When he reached for his cane, she felt a knot of worry tighten in her belly. Shouldn’t he be getting around easier without it? It had been six months since the shooting. She knew he’d been religious about physical therapy, never missing a session, but his recovery seemed to be stalled. The leg wasn’t getting better. He wasn’t getting stronger, and the pain seemed to be just as crippling as it had been after his surgery.

  She knew she couldn’t call the doctor herself. They weren’t married yet and she had no legal right to know anything. Still, something seemed off in his recovery. She waited until she heard the bathroom door close, then she went to get Pickles’ leash.

  Slipping outside into the San Francisco fog, she tried to reason that six month wasn’t long in terms of recovery, especially after an injury as severe as Marco’s had been. She needed to give him more time. Maybe today was the perfect answer. He needed a distraction, and seeing new places was bound to give him that. He hadn’t seemed in as much pain when they were on vacation. Then again, he hadn’t hiked all over the San Francisco hills either.

  She walked Pickles around the block and came back. Going into the kitchen, she pulled out two travel mugs and filled them with the rest of the coffee, then she grabbed a couple of bagels, sliced them in half and threw them in the toaster. Wrapping them in paper towel, she grabbed a lunch bag out of the drawer and placed the knife in the sink.