His dark eyes pierced her. “I don’t remember any of it. The first thing I remember is you, calling my name.”
Peyton held out her hands, palms up. “Look, I get it. You’re under pressure, you want your daughter to live with you, and you’re so close to getting that, but at the last minute, Terry changes her mind. It would make anyone angry, Joshua. It would make anyone go over there to confront her. So what happened? Did it get ugly? Maybe she said some things that struck a little too close to home. You lost your cool and…” Peyton slammed her hand on the table, making Ravensong jump. “Suddenly she’s dead.”
The look on his face was stark. His eyes widened, his breathing accelerated, and his lips parted. She waited for him to do one of two things: confess or deny. After a moment, his eyes drifted to the paper.
“Oh God,” he whispered. “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened.”
Peyton frowned. “You don’t know what happened? Are you going to stick with the memory loss, Josh, really?” She couldn’t help the disappointment.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I’m not lying to you, I don’t remember.”
“How can that be, Joshua? How can you not remember?”
His gaze swung back to her, sharp, focused, stricken. “I’m a heroin addict, Inspector Brooks. No matter how long I’ve been clean, the damage was done. I have black-out sometimes and nothing I can do will ever get those memories back.”
Peyton glanced at the mirror. “Are you saying you had a black-out today?”
“I remember saying goodbye to Elena and Tiffany. That’s it. Until….” He closed his eyes and forced a calming breath. “Until you called my name. Everything else is blank.”
Peyton tapped her fingers on the table. She needed to talk to a doctor, Abe probably, and find out if this was possible. She knew alcoholics suffered black-outs, but a recovered heroin addict? It seemed like too convenient a defense.
Pushing herself to her feet, she leaned on the table. He looked up at her with that vulnerable, confused expression she was beginning to expect. “You’re gonna need a lawyer, Mr. Ravensong,” she said, “a damn good lawyer.”
When he didn’t answer, she turned away, walking to the door. Smith met her on the other side and she stopped. “Put him in a holding cell downstairs and get a doctor to look at his hand. It might be broken.” When he nodded, she started to walk away, but she hesitated and turned around again. She could see Ravensong framed in the doorway. He was reading the text messages once more. “And Frank, put him on suicide watch, okay?”
* * *
Peyton paused in the doorway of the break-room, her attention snagged by the corner of the front counter she could see. She lifted the coffee cup to her lips and took a sip. The bitter taste of the coffee was muted by the four tablespoons of sugar she’d put in it.
Maria was talking to a woman at the counter. She was shorter than Peyton by a good two inches, and that said something because Peyton didn’t clear five four. She had brown hair, pulled back in a long ponytail. Her hair was curly and stray wisps fluttered around her face. She was pretty in a girl next door sort of way.
Marco stepped out of the front conference room and approached the counter. Maria placed her hand on his shoulder as if she was introducing him, but Peyton knew she couldn’t resist touching him whenever she got the opportunity.
He held out his hand to the woman and she accepted it briefly, then she clasped it around the handle on her purse again, holding on as if it were a lifeline. Peyton wandered toward them, taking another sip of her coffee.
“Why don’t you come inside?” offered Marco, moving to the half-door and pulling it open. He stopped when he caught sight of Peyton. “Here’s my partner, Inspector Brooks.”
Peyton held out her free hand and the woman released her grip on the bag. Her hand shook in Peyton’s.
“This is Elena Harris,” said Marco.
Peyton nodded. “Maria, would you mind getting Ms. Harris a cup of coffee?”
“Tea, please, if you have it.” Then she gave a strange little shiver. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you have will be fine.” She tried to smile for Maria, but it came out odd.
“We have tea,” said Peyton, giving Maria a pointed look.
Maria stuck her tongue out at Peyton behind the woman’s back. “It’s no problem at all,” she said, then moved toward the break-room.
Elena Harris looked up at Marco. “You said Joshua was in some kind of trouble. Is he all right?”
Peyton took the opportunity to study her. She seemed genuinely afraid, her eyes brimming with tears.
Marco placed a hand in the middle of her back and directed her to the conference room. “Let’s talk in here.”
Peyton followed them into the room, crossing around the table, as Marco helped Elena into a chair. She placed the purse on her lap and gripped it with both hands. “I really need to know if he’s all right.”
“He’s fine,” offered Peyton.
Marco sat down beside the woman and turned so he was facing her. “We have him in a holding cell below us right now.”
Elena nodded. Her green eyes glittered brightly, the tears hovering on the edge of spilling over.
“Do you mind if I call you Elena?” Marco asked.
Peyton wanted to roll her eyes at the gentlemanly side her partner was displaying. He’d basically convicted Elena’s partner without a trial in his own mind, but he was all charm now.
“That’s fine,” she answered. “Please tell me what’s going on. Why is Joshua here?”
Marco rested his left arm on the table and gripped the back of her chair with his right. “We found him at the condo of his ex-wife this afternoon.”
“Terry? Why?”
“We don’t know, but…” He paused significantly. “Elena, Terry is dead.”
“What?”
The shock in her voice was real.
“Elena,” said Peyton. “I need to know where Joshua’s daughter is.”
“Tiffany?”
“Yes, we need to check her welfare.”
“She’s home with the housekeeper, Martha. I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I didn’t want to bring her.” Her face clouded over and the flood of tears broke. “Oh, God, how will I tell Tiffany about her mother?”
“We can discuss that in a moment, but I need a number for the house, so one of us can talk to Tiffany. It’s important.”
“You aren’t going to tell her? Please don’t tell her something like that over the phone.”
Panic was beginning to sink in.
“No,” said Marco. “Just give me the number and I’ll make the call. I won’t tell her what is going on.”
Peyton reached into her pocket and pulled out her notepad, tearing off a piece of paper. She passed it to Elena, who fished a pen from her purse and wrote the number down. Marco took it and thanked her, then he left the room.
For a moment the two women just stared at each other, then Elena swiped at her tears and squared her jaw. “I want to see Joshua.”
“I’ll take you to him in a few minutes. We need to ask you some questions first.”
Elena slumped back in the chair. She blinked at Peyton a few times in astonishment. “You think he did it? You think Joshua killed her?”
“It doesn’t look good.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we found him in the parking garage below her building.”
“And?”
“He had her blood on his hands.”
Elena’s hand flew to her mouth and the tears spilled faster. “Oh, God.”
“The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and abraded as if he struck something.”
Elena gasped as if she couldn’t get enough air. She was fighting not to cry, but it wasn’t working.
Peyton rose to her feet and went toward the door. As she stepped outside, Marco released the call on his phone and faced her.
“The little girl’s fine,” he offe
red, watching Peyton move to Maria’s desk and retrieve the tissue she kept there.
“Thank God.”
She couldn’t help the wash of relief that swept over her. She could almost find a motive for murdering an ex-wife, but if he’d harmed his own daughter, that spoke to a depravity that Peyton didn’t want to consider.
She returned to the room and set the box in front of Elena, circling back to her seat as Marco sat down beside her again. Elena grabbed a number of tissues and covered her face with them, her breath hitching as she fought to get control of herself.
While she did so, Peyton studied her. She wasn’t at all what Peyton expected. Not that she wasn’t pretty – she was, but she was small and ordinary pretty – not super model gorgeous. A man who looked like Joshua should have a Greek goddess for a girlfriend, not this rather studious-looking business woman. In fact, Peyton would have expected someone much more like his ex-wife than Elena.
Marco shifted and gave Peyton an aggravated look. Peyton smiled at his discomfort. No matter how much humans evolved, men would never be comfortable around a crying woman, but she knew Elena needed to get control on her own.
She wiped her nose and blinked her eyes a few times. Her breath was still coming too fast, but her eyes weren’t overflowing any longer. “Did you get in touch with Tiffany?”
“I did. I didn’t tell her anything.”
Elena shook her head. “How am I going to tell her?”
“I can do it for you. I’ll go out to the house with you when we’re done here,” offered Peyton.
Elena shook her head. “No, I don’t want to scare her with police. This is horrible enough. She needs to hear it from someone she trusts.”
“I’ll leave that to you and Joshua.”
“I want to see him. Please, let me go to him now.”
Marco gave Peyton a bewildered look. Peyton knew what he thought. Why the hell would she want to see the man who had brutally murdered someone hours before?
“Let’s get you calmed down and talk a little bit before we do that, all right?”
Elena leaned forward. “You don’t understand...” She pulled up short and shot a look toward the door.
“What don’t we understand?”
Elena twisted the tissue around her index finger. “He’s tried to kill himself before.”
Peyton relaxed. She’d been expecting a bigger confession. “We know that. We have him on suicide watch.”
Maria entered at that moment and set the tea before Elena. “Here you go. I hope lemon is all right.”
“Fine. Thank you.” She didn’t reach for it.
“No problem.” Maria gave Peyton a sharp look behind Elena’s back.
“Thank you, Maria. You can go,” said Peyton, knowing it would piss her off.
Maria gave her a sarcastic smile, then reached out and ran her hand over Marco’s shoulders where they strained against his striped shirt. With a flounce of her dark hair, she left the room.
Marco moved the mug closer to Elena. “Take a sip. It might help.”
She forced a watery smile for his benefit and Peyton understood Joshua’s attraction. This woman brought out protective feelings in men, something she herself had never done. Maybe it was the kick-ass boots she wore, or the fact that she carried a gun, but she’d never found a man who wanted to take care of her. Not that she’d let him. If any man treated her the way Marco was fawning over Elena, Peyton would castrate him on the spot.
“Elena, I need to ask you some difficult questions.”
Elena sipped the tea, holding it with both hands. Slowly she lowered it. “You don’t have to ask that. He’s never once struck me or his daughter. Joshua would never do something like this.”
Marco looked down, chewing on his inner lip. It was the standard statement all battered women gave and it meant nothing. Fear or intimidation often made them protect the very person who was beating them.
“Look, Elena, Joshua’s in a lot of trouble right now and the only way we can help him is if you’re completely honest with us.”
Her jaw firmed and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I am being honest. I know what you’re thinking and I know you think you’re helping, but I’m telling you the truth. He’s never raised a hand to anyone.”
Peyton drummed her fingers on the table. She wasn’t sure how to pursue this. “What was his relationship with Terry like?”
“She was a gold digger, Inspector Brooks. That and nothing more.”
“She’s also the victim here, Elena.”
“Terry was never a victim in her life.”
Peyton glanced at Marco. She was usually good at this, but Elena wasn’t fitting the usual pattern.
Marco shifted toward her. “Elena, here’s the honest truth. Joshua’s drug addiction and past history with his ex-wife are going to go against him. The only chance he has of a reduced sentence is if we can find a motive for why he snapped. Temporary insanity…anything.”
Elena stared at him in astonishment. “Both of you are sure he did this. You’ve already convicted him before he’s had a trial. Is that what they teach you at the academy?”
“No, but here’s the reality. All of the evidence, the motive, and the opportunity points to Ravensong and there just isn’t any other possibility.”
Elena pushed herself to her feet. “I want to see him now.”
And just like that she closed the door.
Peyton sighed. “All right.” She and Marco rose together. “We’ll take you to him, but I hope you’ll reconsider and talk with us before you leave. We really are trying to help.”
“None of this helps, Inspector Brooks. None of it means a damn thing as long as you already believe him guilty. I’m not going to waste my time here. After I see him, I need to hire a lawyer, so we can get him out of here as fast as possible.”
Peyton walked around the table and pointed out the door. “This way, then.”
Elena grabbed her bag and followed her across the precinct. They took the single flight of stairs down to the holding cells and Peyton led her to a small conference room. It had no furnishings in it and the floor was bare concrete. There were no windows and the only opening was the heavy metal door. Peyton and Elena waited in the middle of the sparse room, while Marco stepped outside to talk to an officer.
Peyton reached for her card and held it out to Elena. “If you change your mind, you can call me any time.”
Elena took the card. “If you change your mind, why don’t you call me?”
Peyton crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Try to put yourself in our position, Elena.”
Elena studied her a moment, then tucked the card into her purse. “Why don’t you do the same?”
Marco led Joshua into the room. The difference in their heights was remarkable, but even in a prison jumpsuit, Ravensong exuded a powerful sexuality. He paused at the entrance and Elena turned to face him. Then they came together.
They never spoke, they simply fell into each other arms, pressing so tightly together that Peyton wondered if they thought they could meld into one person. Elena buried her face in his neck and sank her fingers in his dark hair. He folded around her, wrapping both arms around her back and closing his eyes.
Peyton glanced up at Marco. He shook his head in disgust and turned away, but Peyton couldn’t deny she was moved. Here were two people who obviously loved each other, and despite the situation, that was something she envied.
CHAPTER 4
James halted in the doorway of the theatre and watched Joshua play the piano. A group of senior girls were gathered around the back of it and one was sitting on the bench next to him. The piano tinkled out a cheerful ragtime tune and Joshua’s fingers flew over the keys, dancing away to the lively music.
He came to a flourishing finish and the girls all clapped, laughing in delight at his talent. The girl, sitting on the bench next to him, grabbed his arm and leaned into him, pressing her breasts to his side. James recognized her as Sarah James
on, trouble. Joshua flashed a smile at her, but his eyes lighted on his brother at the top of the stairs.
“Gotta go,” he said, sliding out from the bench.
The girls all protested and Sarah reached for him, catching his hand. “Don’t run off. You said you’d play a slow one next.”
He leaned toward her, his dark hair sweeping across his cheekbones. “If I don’t go now, I’ll have to walk home and I hate walking.”
She pouted at him, but reluctantly let him go. Joshua grabbed his backpack off the edge of the stage and jumped down, jogging up the stairs. The girls all watched him, giggling at each other, and James felt his stomach tighten. No way should Joshua be hanging out with senior girls.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Joshua stopped and frowned at him. “Waiting for you. How was practice?”
“Forget practice.” James kicked open the door and held it as Joshua stepped through. “Those girls are seniors.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a freshman. You shouldn’t mess with them, especially Sarah Jameson. She’s trouble. She’s seeing Luke Ames.”
“So? He’s a dick.”
“He’s on the football team. You screw with him, you screw with the whole team.”
Joshua shot an aggravated look at James. “I was playing the piano. No big deal. Back off, okay?”
James reached out and caught his arm, stopping him. Joshua looked from James’ hand to his face, but he didn’t pull away. “Those girls are trouble, Josh. Leave them alone. You don’t need to be messing with girls like that.”
“I like girls like that.”
“We all like girls like that, but it never works. You’re gonna get your ass kicked and no stupid girl is worth it.”
“Maybe they are. I’m not a priest like you, James.”
“I’m not a priest, but I know better than to sniff around those girls.”
Joshua shook off his hold and continued walking toward the parking lot. “I’ll handle it.”
“You stupid prick, you can’t handle it. Luke Ames is a mean sonuvabitch, Josh. And he’s not gonna come at you alone. He’ll bring the whole damn team.”
Murder on Russian Hill (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 3) Page 6
