The blond man stopped shouting and stared at her.
“Inspector Brooks, this is Ravensong’s brother. A cop from L.A.,” said Smith derisively.
Cop? Peyton vaguely remembered something about that. Maybe she should pay more attention to what she read, instead of gawking at the photos of Ravensong.
“Sergeant,” the blond man corrected, bristling with hostility. “Not cop.”
“What is the problem, Sergeant?”
“I demand to know what’s being done to exonerate my brother. It’s been nearly a week and instead of being home with his daughter where he belongs, he’s locked in a mental facility.”
“Of his own accord,” said Peyton in her most reasonable voice.
“The hell it is.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Brooks? So you’re the incompetent idiot who told him he was guilty.”
“James!” This came from a shorter woman with dark hair.
“James, I don’t think this solves anything,” said an older man.
“The hell it doesn’t. Look, Dad, you don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”
“I don’t think insulting the officer investigating the case is going to do us a bit of good.”
“Really? ‘Cause if someone doesn’t step in here and take control, Josh is gonna wind up convicted of murder. You think they didn’t coerce a confession out of him, and I’ll bet they didn’t even let him have a lawyer.”
“We didn’t coerce anyth—”
“And don’t for a minute believe that they’re really going to look into this. It’s open and shut as far as they’re concerned, save the tax payers some money, we’ve got a suspect, let’s convict his ass before someone else gets murdered and we might have to do our jobs. I know how this place works, Dad.”
Peyton shared a bewildered look with Holmes and Smith.
“James, please, don’t do this. We don’t need enemies,” said the woman.
“Enemies? Look around you. They’re all enemies. They just want someone to hang for this murder and it doesn’t matter who, especially if it’s a celebrity. Oh, they’d love to bring down a celebrity. They get extra points or something without having to do a damn thing. This frickin’ city couldn’t wipe its own ass if the state didn’t tell it how. It’s a rainbow hued fairyland where they lock up law abiding people and dance under the moonlight with murderers.”
Okay, now that went too far.
“Just a damn minute,” Peyton said, pushing between the two uniforms. “These aren’t the mean streets of L.A. and we aren’t some prancing ponies. In this City we talk to people with respect and we ask questions, we don’t run around spouting off like an arrogant prick.”
“Now you listen…” he began.
Peyton took a step toward him and lowered her voice. “I’m gonna tell you just one time and one time only. Shut the hell up, calm the hell down, and sit your ass on that chair, or I will kick your balls into your stomach, slaps some cuffs on you, and haul you downstairs to a holding cell until you can speak like a civilized human being.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but Peyton took another step toward him, reaching for her cuffs. Backing up, he sat heavily in a chair and blinked at her.
“I have got to learn how to do that,” said Elena with admiration.
“Now, will someone tell me who we all have here in a calm, rational voice?” When James started to speak again, Peyton pointed at him. “Not you!”
Elena eased to her side. “This is Joshua’s mother, Mary,” she said, indicating the dark haired woman. “And his step-father, Adam.” She motioned to the tall older man. “You’ve already met Jennifer and now James.”
Peyton shifted her attention to a woman in a severe navy blue suit with dark rimmed glasses. She had short cropped hair and overly large brown eyes. She held a leather notebook in her hands and the strap of a purse hung over her shoulder. She gave Peyton a nervous smile.
“This is Joshua’s psychologist, Emily Staddler.”
Peyton leaned toward Elena. “His what now?”
“Psychologist.”
At that moment Defino’s office door opened, emitting both her and Devan. She surveyed the gathering with her usual squint eyed stare. She used her glare for intimidation, but really she couldn’t see and refused to wear glasses or contact lenses.
“What the hell is going on out here?”
Peyton swept the gathering with her hand. “This is Joshua’s family.”
“Well, part of it,” offered Elena. “He has a sister and twin brothers at home.”
“Why the shouting?”
“These people are his parents, his sister and…” Peyton gave James a snarky smile. “His brother James, who is a sergeant with the Los Angeles police force, Captain.”
“Really?”
“Yes, oh and his psychologist.”
“His what?”
“Psychologist.”
“And a partridge in a pear tree,” quipped Jake behind them.
Peyton almost barked out a laugh, but Defino glared in her direction. Well, in all fairness, she glared at Jake, but she couldn’t see him very well.
Coming forward, she positioned herself in front of a chastised James. “Sergeant, let me make something amply clear.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, ducking his head.
“If you ever shout in my precinct again, I will have you arrested. Is that clear?”
“Absolutely.”
“Now what was it you wanted?”
“I wanted to know the status of the case. We’ve gotten very little information and I’m worried he was coerced into admitting guilt. He’s a recovering drug addict…”
“I’m aware of that.”
“…and he doesn’t always remember what happened, especially if it’s a stressful situation, but he would never hurt the mother of his child. He would never strike anyone.”
“Which is why we are still investigating?”
James’ gaze lifted to Devan. “With all due respect, ma’am, I recognize a district attorney when I see one.”
For the first time, Peyton felt for him. He really was scared for his brother.
“And we have just been discussing why my people need more time with this case, Sergeant. I cannot divulge the particulars of an ongoing investigation, but I assure you we will not turn over the case until we are satisfied the evidence holds up under scrutiny.”
James leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “I want in on the case.”
“I can’t allow that, any more than a hospital would allow a doctor to operate on his own kin. Go back to your brother’s house and give us a little space.”
“I need you to take this seriously.”
Defino’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to assume you didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Sergeant. I’m going to assume you are talking out of fear and frustration, and meant no insult.”
He stared up at her. Peyton wondered if he would be smart enough to back down and let them handle it. He held up a hand to her. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m just scared for my brother.”
“Then take care of your family and let us take care of the rest.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and headed to her office. Peyton watched as James rose to his feet and turned toward his father, who clapped a firm hand on his shoulder and guided him to the door. With his other hand, he supported Joshua’s mother.
Elena touched Peyton’s elbow. “Please call me if you find out anything.”
“You know I will.”
Elena hesitated, then she followed Joshua’s family out of the precinct.
Peyton wished she could give Elena better news. She wished she could give them all better news. It was refreshing to see a family standing by one of their own.
She felt Devan’s eyes on her, so she looked up and met his gaze. Then she turned away.
* * *
Peyton passed the card over Jake’s shoulder as he sat at his desk, messing on his computer. “Sign it.”
/> He took the card and read it, then swiveled in his chair, so he could see her. “Are you sure I’m invited?”
“Yes, now sign it. We’re already late.”
He accepted the pen from her and scribbled his name below Abe’s. “What did we get him?”
Peyton held up the two tickets. Jake took them from her and inspected them, then let out a low whistle.
“These are two tickets on the 50 yard line, lower deck.”
“I know.”
“How the hell did you afford this, Mighty Mouse?”
“We helped a player a few years back with a case.”
“You still must have paid a fortune.”
She grabbed them from him and placed them in the card, then put the card in the envelope. “None of your business. Now grab your coat and let’s go.”
He rose to his feet and reached for the coat hanging from the footboard on the bed. “Let me help you.”
“With what, Jake?”
“I have some money.”
“I’ve got it.” She went to the front door and grabbed her own coat, slipping it on. She took down her gun and wrapped the shoulder strap around it.
“Here.” He handed her a couple of twenties. When she shook her head, he snapped them at her. “Come on. I want to contribute. You let Abe, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but he’s got money.”
“Take it.”
Peyton took the money more for his sake, than hers. She knew he wanted to pay his way.
“I’ll drive,” he offered.
“No you won’t. I’ve got a reputation to maintain and the Daisy doesn’t cut it.” She picked up Pickles and deposited him on the couch, then pulled open the door.
“Your car isn’t much better,” he grumbled, but he followed her down to the driveway.
She peered at herself in the rear view mirror just long enough to smooth down her wild curls.
The ride to Vinnie’s house didn’t take more than five minutes. He lived in the Avenues near Peyton in a pretty pink house with two huge windows on the front that looked like eyes. Peyton found a place to park a few doors down.
A wrought iron gate usually closed off the arched entrance, but someone had braced it open with a potted red geranium. She and Jake climbed the stairs to the front door, which was also open. Peyton peeked inside.
Marco’s mother, Mona, caught sight of her and hurried to the door, pulling her inside and wrapping her in an embrace. “Come in, come in.” She pressed her hands to Peyton’s cheeks. “It’s been too long since I saw you. You have to come to dinner on Sundays from now on.”
Peyton laughed and hugged her back. “I’d love that.” She pulled Jake up beside her. “Mona, this is my housemate Jake Ryder.”
Mona hugged him too. “I’m so glad to meet you. Marco tells me about you.”
Jake gave a skeptical look. “That can’t be good.”
“Nonsense,” she said, hooking her arm in Jake’s. “Let me introduce you to everyone.” And she pulled him in the direction of the kitchen where the sound of laughter and loud voices wafted out.
Peyton crossed the living room to the circular black coffee table and laid Marco’s gift on it. The living room was a perfect square with real wood parquet floors and a semi-circular fireplace in the corner. A large white leather sectional and two leather recliners lay arranged around the table, and family photos littered the walls. Most were of Vinnie and Rosa’s two kids, Cristina and Antonio, sporting the D’Angelo’s height, striking bone structure, and blue eyes.
As she turned toward the kitchen, two boys raced out of the right hallway and sprinted out the front door. Peyton thought it was Emilio and Sergio, Franco’s sons, but she wasn’t sure. Just as she started moving again a third boy careened into her. She caught him and he laughed.
“Sorry.”
“Michel?”
“Yeah.”
“Good lord, boy, you’ve grown a mile. How old are you now?”
“Six.” He danced in her grasp. “Gotta go.”
She released him and watched him race out the door. Glancing into the hallway, she didn’t hear any more thundering feet, so she walked to the door of the kitchen. It was by far the largest room in the house with vaulted ceilings and an island in the middle. A full dining table was laid out with dishes and food to the left, and everyone was gathered around it and the island.
Rosa, Vinnie’s wife, saw her first and came over, grabbing her in a hug. She was plump and pretty with dark hair and eyes that always looked like she was smiling. “Peyton,” she said, kissing her cheek.
“Thank you for inviting me, Rosa,” she said, then she was captured in a bear hug by Vinnie.
All the D’Angelo men were tall and handsome. Marco was the prettiest, but they all could have easily made their mark in modeling if they had chosen. The three oldest brothers had advanced college degrees and worked in business. Vinnie was an architect and restored old Victorians.
She hugged Vinnie in return, then greeted Franco and Bernardo. She didn’t know them as well as Vinnie, but she’d been to many family functions. Franco’s wife Sofia was cooking with Mona and she waved from the stove.
“Hey, Peyton.”
“Hey, Sofia.”
Serena, Bernardo’s wife, handed her a beer. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said. “Drink one for me.” She rubbed her swollen belly.
“How much longer?” asked Peyton, taking a sip.
“Another month.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Boy, of course.”
Marco came up and pulled her out of the crowd, wrapping her in his arms. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “You’re late, Brooks.”
“I know. It’s Jake’s fault.”
“Hey!” shouted Jake from the other end of the room.
Peyton looked around Marco and smiled at him. He was sitting between Abe and Marco’s father, Leo, at the table. Leo patted the empty chair beside him.
“Come sit here, Peyton.”
She crossed around the table and took the seat he indicated. He hugged her and she hugged him back. “How are you, Leo?”
“I’m doing great. How are you?”
“In the pink.” She smiled at Abe. “You okay?”
Abe gave her a dreamy look. “Are you kidding me?”
Peyton didn’t ask for elaboration. She knew Abe thought heaven smiled on the D’Angelo family. Looking around, she noticed Vinnie’s son Antonio and daughter Cristina occupying stools at the island. “How’s school, you guys?”
Antonio flashed dimples at her. At seventeen, he was already developing the D’Angelo charm. “Good. Running track to get ready for summer football.”
“Any colleges looking at you?”
“They can’t talk to me until schools out in June.”
“Got it.”
Mona handed Peyton a plate heaped with food. “Eat something.”
Marco looked over her shoulder. “Where’s mine? And there is definitely not enough sugar on there for Brooks.”
Peyton stuck her tongue out at him. “Thank you, Mona,” she said, accepting the plate. She turned her attention to Cristina, Vinnie’s youngest. She had her mother’s plumpness, but a mane of glorious black hair framed a very pretty face. “How about you, Cristina? How are you?”
“Fine,” she said shyly.
“She’s got a boy chasing after her. Asked her to prom,” said Antonio mischievously.
“Tonio!” scolded Rosa. “Leave your sister alone.”
“Of course she does,” said Marco, kissing her on the forehead. “She’s the prettiest girl at that school.”
She beamed at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Mona handed him a plate. “Here’s for my birthday boy.”
He took it. “Thank you, Mama,” he said, bending and kissing her cheek.
Peyton loved coming to a D’Angelo party. As an only child, she couldn’t deny there was something seductive about a big family. They took everyone in and
looked out for each other. She didn’t even mind the chaos and the noise. Kids raced through underfoot, grabbing food off the table. The adults milled around, laughing loudly and hugging…there was a lot of hugging that went on with the D’Angelos. Peyton was content to sit back and watch, absorbing it all.
After the food was eaten, people wandered into the other rooms. Peyton stayed in the kitchen, listening to Leo talk about his work as a PG&E technician during the earthquake in ‘89. Finally, Mona scolded him for monopolizing Peyton and told him to get their present for Marco from the car. He winked at Peyton and left the room.
Bernardo handed her another beer and she got up, walking into the living room to find Jake. He and Abe were sitting on the floor by the couch and Jake was telling Abe about her confrontation with Ravensong’s brother.
Vinnie and Franco were listening.
“She told him to sit his ass down and he did it,” said Jake.
The men laughed.
Marco was sitting on the arm of a recliner, while Serena was stretched out in the seat, her hands around her stomach.
Peyton leaned against him. “You okay?”
He put his arm around her waist. “I’m great.”
“You weren’t so sure about turning thirty and having a party, remember?”
He gave a grunt. “Yeah, but look at this.”
“And then she said she’d kick his balls into his stomach and slaps some cuffs on him.” Abe and Jake peeled off into laughter.
“How can I be upset around this madness? I’ve got my family, a job I love…”
“And me.”
Marco squeezed her. “And you and the craziness you bring me.” He pointed his beer at Abe and Jake.
“Time for presents,” said Rosa, bustling into the room. Everyone came from the kitchen and gathered around, perching on the arms of the chairs. Rosa and Sofia carried some of the kitchen chairs out with them, and Rosa placed one next to Marco and sat down. She patted the seat next to her. “Sit with me, Peyton.” Peyton sat on the edge of it, balancing precariously, but Rosa didn’t seem to mind. “Pass your uncle his presents, Tonio.”
Antonio gave him a small bag and Marco settled his beer on the floor next to the chair, reaching for the card. “This is from Bernardo, Serena and the boys.” He pulled out a Niners baseball hat and immediately put it on.
Murder on Russian Hill (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 3) Page 14
