Past Midnight (South Island PD Book 2)

by Ranae Rose

  “I bought a monthly subscription from Adobe and downloaded the program on my laptop. Turns out there’s no real limit to what you can do if you have the time to learn. Since I’ve got nothing but time, I’ve watched about a million tutorials. Makes me feel like I’m being productive in some small way.”

  “Small?” Peyton stared at the screen, where the advertising graphic Madison had crafted was displayed. She’d created it to promote a beginning of summer sale, and it looked just as good as the ads those big name stores in the malls used. Better, actually.

  “This is really helpful, Madison. Small business owners can’t afford to be luddites when it comes to online advertising.”

  Madison smiled. She was obviously proud of what she’d made, even if she tried to downplay it. “I even made different sizes for our website and different social media channels, so it’ll look good on every platform.”

  “Nice.” Not only was it exciting to have such perfect graphics to show off, but it was thrilling to see Madison carving out a niche for herself despite her current physical limitations.

  Peyton was starting to get that feeling again: the one that let her dare to hope that things were looking up. The hairline scar at Madison’s temple had been haunting her conscience lately, but despite it all, here they were working together happily again.

  Charmed had been such a source of camaraderie for them that it had hurt to lose that, after the accident. For the first time since then, it seemed to really be back. Things were different, but Peyton could handle different.

  She could handle anything, if it meant seeing Madison come out of the shell the accident had forced her into.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Madison grinned. “It does look pretty awesome.”

  Peyton returned the expression as Madison folded her laptop shut. “Jace saw me working on it though and got a little grossed out. He asked why I was making a picture of women’s underwear, and when I told him it was going to go online, he looked so horrified. I wish you could’ve seen his face.”

  Peyton bit her lip. “Poor kid. Can’t expect a nine year old boy to get excited over a buy one get one half off bra sale, though.”

  “No, you can’t. Not even when it includes our most popular demis and push-ups.”

  “Ready for me to heat up that stir fry I made for dinner?” She’d been good lately about cooking for the entire week on Sundays, and had a fridge full of pre-made dinners to prove it.

  “Sure. Speaking of dinner…” Madison set her laptop aside and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “Have any more dates coming up?”

  “Dates?” It’d been weeks since she’d gone to the party at Moreno’s with Elijah. “No, not really.”

  “I take it that Saturday night a couple weeks ago didn’t go as well as I assumed, then?” She arched a brow. “I was trying to be patient and wait for you to tell me about it, but I can’t hold out any longer. If you still feel guilty over it, don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Peyton bit her tongue. Madison still insisted that her kitchen accident wasn’t Peyton’s fault, but of course, the truth was that it wouldn’t have happened if she’d been there.

  “It went fine.” She was careful to keep her tone neutral. “A relationship is a big time commitment though, and I’ve got plenty on my plate without one.”

  Madison frowned.

  “We’ve had lunch together since then,” she admitted.

  “Oh, good. I know you’re busy, but you deserve to have a personal life too. I’m sorry you’ve had to shoulder so much responsibility, but eventually I’ll be back on my feet and—”

  “It’s okay, Madison. Really.” She could see the dent in her sister’s lower lip, where she was biting it from the inside.

  After a moment, Madison’s expression lightened. “So, you have to tell me all about this guy. What’s he like?”

  Peyton’s stomach dropped, and her mouth went dry. Honesty was an unspoken rule between her and Madison – they’d never had anything to hide from each other – but the time wasn’t right for the truth.

  * * * * *

  The world was spinning around Elijah. He focused anyway.

  The SUV never slowed. It kept on going – a hit and run. Except—

  All the breath rushed out of his lungs. The women hadn’t been hit. They were all three still standing.

  He barely had time to process that, and as soon as he did, he was in pursuit of the vehicle that’d nearly mowed them down. Flipping on his lights and sirens, he pressed the pedal to the floor as he radioed in for back-up and another officer to meet the women, take statements and make sure they were all right.

  He requested an ambulance too, just in case they weren’t.

  There was no time to stop and check on them; the SUV was already speeding and he’d lose it if he slowed.

  He chased it for three blocks before it came to an abrupt stop, tires skidding over the streak of asphalt nearest the curb.

  Whoever was behind the wheel was a fucking jackass.

  Anger made Elijah’s chest swell, threatening to crack his ribs as he climbed out of his cruiser and approached the stopped vehicle.

  He was cautious, approaching from behind and withdrawing his flashlight. The angle he carried it at would blind the driver if he or she tried to turn or lean out the window to watch him approach.

  His Glock was a reassuring weight on his hip. There was no telling who was driving the SUV, but after the way they’d nearly killed three women, he couldn’t afford to put anything past them.

  Chances were, they were intoxicated – drunk or high on God knew what.

  Or worse: texting and driving.

  His hand ached as he gripped his flashlight. If he found out that he’d nearly witnessed a triple vehicular manslaughter because someone had been too goddamned stupid to put down their phone, he’d take the damn thing down to the pier and throw into the ocean, along with the idiot’s license.

  As he passed the rear left end of the SUV, he touched the glossy black body, just above the tail light. It was an almost unconscious gesture, a habit that always gave him a twinge of reassurance. If anything happened to him, his fingerprints would be on the vehicle, invisibly branding the guilty party.

  He braced himself for what might happen as he approached the driver’s window. Back-up would arrive soon, but what he’d witnessed had left him with a sense of urgency. He needed to deal with this now.

  His flashlight illuminated the driver in perfect clarity.

  “I’m going to need to see your license and registration.”

  A man – no, a kid – stared back at him, squinting against the light.

  “Fuck, man, take it easy with the floodlight!”

  “Get your license and registration out.”

  The kid was eighteen, maybe nineteen? No older than twenty. Brown hair, brown eyes. White. Average build. He didn’t look familiar.

  “Have you had anything to drink tonight?” Elijah asked as another teenaged male sitting in the passenger seat popped open the glove box at the driver’s request and began riffling through papers.

  “No.”

  “Have you used any drugs besides alcohol?”

  “No.”

  “You almost hit three pedestrians on the sidewalk a few blocks back. You sure you’re not drunk or high?”

  “No way.” He narrowed his eyes at Elijah and dug out his wallet.

  The vehicle was registered to a Ralph Weitkamp. According to his driver’s license, the kid’s name was Joseph Weitkamp.

  “Whose vehicle is this?”

  “My dad’s, on paper. Really, it’s mine.”

  The SUV was easily a fifty thousand dollar hunk of gears, metal and leather.

  An SIPD cruiser pulled up half a block behind Elijah’s, and Rogers stepped out.

  “I’m gonna run his license,” Elijah said when she approached. “Can you talk to him for a minute? Maybe he’ll tell you why he almost flattened three women on the sidewalk.” />
  Rogers frowned. “Sure. I’ve got it.”

  The frown hadn’t been for Elijah; he sensed that as she shifted her gaze to the kid, stepping up to the vehicle.

  The kid deserved Rogers’ worst.

  Elijah retreated to his cruiser and ran the license. There were no outstanding warrants, no history except for a speeding ticket.

  Which was too bad, because he would’ve loved an excuse to book the driver for some past crime.

  When he returned to where Rogers was standing by the SUV, she turned in a way that told him she was still keeping one eye on the driver.

  He shook his head to let her know that he hadn’t found anything.

  She looked disappointed.

  In the few minutes it’d taken Elijah to check out the kid’s history, he must’ve really rubbed her the wrong way. No surprise, given his attitude. Rogers had never been one to suffer bullshit lightly and nobody knew that better than Elijah.

  Then again, a female cop who was less than five and a half feet tall couldn’t afford to suffer bullshit lightly – he’d give her that.

  “Can I go now?” the kid asked, leaning back in the driver’s seat.

  “No.” Elijah held onto the license. “You’re not going anywhere without a court date.”

  The kid narrowed his eyes. “For what? That’s not right!”

  “First off, you were speeding. Worse, you endangered the lives of three pedestrians. I suspect that you may be intoxicated, so I’m going to test your BAC.”

  “That’s bullshit.” The kid’s tone was twice as agitated as it had been a minute ago – Elijah had hit a nerve. “I won’t do it!”

  “Refusing the test won’t get you out of a charge. South Carolina is an implied consent state, which means you agreed to BAC testing when you got your license. Refusing will mean an automatic license suspension, plus fines.”

  Elijah was prepared for another smartass reply, another pointless display of spoiled rich kid defiance. He wasn’t expecting sudden movement, or for the driver’s door to fly open, straight into Rogers.

  It knocked her over like a bowling pin, and Elijah was already moving by the time she hit the pavement. As instinct propelled him forward, the kid slipped through the open door and sprinted away from the vehicle.

  Elijah had to catch the little shit. He’d do it quickly – get it over with – and then make sure Rogers was all right.

  Joseph Weitkamp’s sneakers pounded the pavement as he bounded up the sidewalk. Elijah’s legs were longer, and he was in better shape. The kid barely had time to dart into an alley before Elijah caught up with him.

  Gravity did Elijah’s job for him, then – the kid tripped over nothing and flopped to the ground with a yelp of surprise.

  “Stay down.” Elijah knelt beside him, pulled out his cuffs and applied them.

  “Ow! Ow! Stop! My fuckin’ arm—”

  Saying ‘ow’ had never saved anyone from being cuffed, but the kid didn’t seem to know that. He cussed up a storm as Elijah helped him to his feet and started marching him back toward the street.

  Voices spilled from the SUV, a riot of noise. Elijah hurried around it, guiding his protesting arrestee by the arm. The kid dragged his feet on purpose.

  Elijah couldn’t help grinding his teeth, and his jaw ached from the tension. He and Rogers had never been close, but it didn’t matter – she was an officer, and he’d left her on the ground.

  He found her standing, albeit hunched over with a hand pressed against her lower back.

  “You hurt?” he asked.

  She grimaced. “Think I broke my ass.”

  “I’ll radio for an ambulance.”

  “No!” She winced as she stood up straight. “I don’t need one. Let’s get this guy booked.”

  “You know I’ve got that taken care of.”

  “We should search the vehicle. There may be drugs or an open container.”

  It was true; he did need to search the vehicle. There were two passengers still inside, and judging by how loud they were being, they’d been drinking too. They all looked to be underage.

  Now that Elijah was close enough to smell Joseph’s breath, he was certain he was intoxicated.

  What the stale odor of hops told him was confirmed by the reading on the breathalyzer test.

  “That’s not right,” the kid said when he saw the reading, but the vehemence had gone out of his voice. “Stupid fucking broken machine. Probably rigged it— Ow!”

  Joseph stared down at his arm. “I need to go to the hospital.”

  “Why?” Elijah’s tone was sharp. He knew damn well the kid was just trying to avoid jail.

  “Think my damn arm’s broke. These cuffs are killing me.”

  Elijah turned him around and looked him up and down. He’d gotten a few scrapes when he’d tripped, including on his right arm.

  There was no visible deformity, but he couldn’t ignore the off chance that the kid was telling the truth for the first time that night. “You can go to the hospital, but I’ll be the one taking you and you’ll be getting booked into the city jail directly afterward. If you’re trying to get out of that, it won’t work.”

  “I’m not bullshitting. I need to go to the hospital.”

  Elijah exchanged a look with Rogers. “When the ambulance gets here, let the EMTs check you out, okay? It’ll only take a second.”

  She scowled, but eventually gave a curt nod before stepping up to the SUV again.

  “All right,” she said to the passengers, “I need you all to step out of the vehicle, one by one. I’m going to search it.”

  The two teens – one male and one female – groaned.

  Elijah gripped his radio, preparing to call for rescue. There was no telling what they might find inside the vehicle. Even if they found nothing, it was going to be one hell of a long night.

  * * * * *

  “I don’t know. I’d feel bad about leaving Madison and Jace home alone while I hung out at the beach. Doesn’t seem fair.”

  Peyton leaned with her elbows on the breakroom table, chewing the inside of her lower lip. Even with Madison’s recent physical therapy sessions and progress, she wasn’t ready to start leaving her sister and nephew home alone any more than she had to – especially not just so she could go out and have fun.

  It just wouldn’t be right. Not yet.

  She barely bit back a sigh. She’d known this would happen – had known Elijah would get tired of meeting in her stuffy little shop for half an hour at a time and would eventually expect more.

  She could almost feel him slipping through her fingers. A hollow feeling filled her chest as she sensed the beginning of the end of what they’d enjoyed over the past month. It’d felt too good to be true from the beginning.

  “Thought you might say that,” he said.

  Her heart sank into the hollow void that gaped below it.

  “Why don’t you invite them to come along?” he asked. “If you think your sister would be up to it.”

  Peyton straightened and blinked. Invite Madison and Jace for an afternoon out with her and Elijah?

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she buried a tooth in her lip.

  “I’m no doctor,” he said, “but judging by what you’ve told me, she’s doing a lot better. Going kind of stir-crazy too, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s true. But I don’t think I can ask her to come to the beach with us on Sunday.” The hollow space in her chest was gone, filled with sinking guilt.

  “Don’t think she’s ready to enjoy the beach yet?”

  Actually, Madison probably would enjoy getting out. Sitting on the shore with an ocean breeze in your hair was a lot more enjoyable than sitting in your living room for the millionth day in a row.

  Peyton hated lying, and the idea of passing off a bullshit excuse on Elijah made her skin crawl. He was honest – that was one of the main things she admired about him.

  “She probably would like to head down to the Blue Mile, at least for a little while. T
he truth is, I’m afraid to invite her.”

  His hazel eyes locked with hers from across the table. “Why?”

  Afraid to invite her own sister for an afternoon on the beach. Yeah, she knew it sounded dumb. But to his credit, Elijah didn’t say so.

  He merely waited for her to explain, like he actually gave a crap. Which she knew perfectly well that he did.

  God, he was so nice. It made her feel even shittier about what she was about to admit.

  CHAPTER 17

  “I haven’t told her a whole lot about us,” Peyton said. “I mean, she knows I’ve been seeing someone, but I haven’t told her much about you.”

  His expression shifted subtly, his brow crinkling above gorgeous eyes that were suddenly weighed down at the corners. “You don’t think she’d approve of you dating me?”

  “No, I don’t.” Her heart beat fast as she clenched her fists beneath the table. “She’s my older sister, and she’s always been protective. I know it’s not fair, but she’ll probably freak out when she finds out you’re—”

  “Black?”

  “What?” Her cheeks flushed faster and hotter than she’d known they could. “No. That’s not what I was going to say.”

  Mortification settled in, and she wanted to sink under the table. Madison, disapproving of an interracial relationship? No way. Madison only had one prejudice, and it had nothing to do with race.

  “You don’t have to try to sugarcoat it, if it’s the truth. I won’t be as surprised as you might think.”

  Her heart ached, and it felt like she had a bad sunburn across her entire face.

  “It really wasn’t what I was going to say. I know my sister, and she’d be disgusted by an attitude like that. What I was trying to get at is that she doesn’t trust or like cops. I haven’t told her what you do for a living. I’ve been trying to figure out a good way to do it, but I’ve got nothing. I’m dreading it.”

  “I see.” His handsome face looked troubled. Or maybe it was disappointment he was feeling, or anger. Peyton had lost her ability to read him.