“This is my aunt, Inspector Brooks, Lin Chu.”
“Nice to meet you.” Peyton pulled out a business card and passed it over. Leah translated for her. “Two nights ago, you were working here in the kitchen?”
Lin nodded.
“Do you remember Meilin being here as well?”
The older woman talked rapidly to the younger one, her hands gesticulating.
“She says Meilin is always here, watching everything they do. She manages everything.”
Peyton and Marco smiled at that. “Was there ever a time that Meilin wasn’t here? A time when she went to the bathroom or something?”
Leah translated. Lin’s eyes grew wide as she talked and she motioned even more expansively. Leah gave Peyton a wry look. “She says the woman has a bladder of iron. She never goes to the bathroom. If she absolutely had to go, she’d probably squat in the corner so they wouldn’t be out of her sight.”
“Not a fan, eh?”
Leah shrugged.
Marco wandered away, headed toward the back door.
Leah followed him with her eyes, then she looked back at Peyton. “Cute,” she said, giving Peyton a sheepish grin.
Peyton smiled back at her. “He’s heard it before. Too many times, in fact.”
“Bet Meilin liked him.”
Peyton cocked her head. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said it. She’d probably fire me if she knew.”
Peyton motioned to the kitchen door. “You wanna step out here, away from prying eyes and ears?”
Leah shrugged again, but she followed Peyton as she backed to the door, Aunt Lin on her heels.
Going to a table, Peyton pulled out a chair and sat down, waiting for the two women to do the same. “Do the rest of the people in there speak English?”
“Some. Enough to get by.”
“Are they loyal to Meilin?”
“She pays our wages. We’re loyal enough.”
“I get the sense she’s a difficult employer.”
“She likes things just so.”
Aunt Lin added something, tapping Leah’s forearm.
Leah nodded.
“What’d she say?”
“Controlling. That’s Meilin. Oh, not where anyone else can see, but behind the door…” She gave Peyton a meaningful look.
“I got you.” Peyton braced her arms on the table, lowering her voice. “What did you mean when you said you bet Meilin liked my partner?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Nothing you tell me will get back to her. I promise you that.”
Leah glanced at her aunt. “Don’t get me wrong. Meilin is good to us, pays us well, it’s just she watches everything we do. She doesn’t trust her own people.” She gave Peyton a pointed look. “It’s annoying.”
“Understandable. I still need to know what you meant about my partner.”
“Meilin likes men. She especially likes them young, hot and white…like your partner.”
“Was she having an affair?”
“I don’t think she was cheating on Matt physically. She just likes the attention. She can get men to do anything for her and she likes that power.”
“I see.”
Aunt Lin spoke, patting Leah’s arm. Leah gave her a nod of agreement.
Peyton waited for the translation.
“She wants you to know that Meilin is a good boss. She could have gone anywhere to open a restaurant, but she picked here. We appreciate that.”
Peyton nodded, offering the aunt an understanding smile. “Leah, I get that Meilin liked male attention, but how was she around Matt? Did they ever fight?”
“Not that I saw. Meilin always talked about him like he meant the world to her.”
“The restaurant’s been open how long now?”
“Not quite a year.”
“Have you worked here that long?”
“Since the grand opening, yes.”
“In all that time, have you ever seen anyone get upset at Meilin or Matt? Did she ever fire an employee or piss off a customer?”
“Nothing that stands out with me.”
“What do you know about Matt?”
“Not much. I saw him a few times, but that’s about it. He always said hi, but not much else.”
Marco pushed open the kitchen door and stepped out. Peyton glanced over at him, then gave Leah a smile. “If you think of anything else, anything at all, will you call me?” She nodded at the card clutched in Aunt Lin’s hand.
“We’ll call you,” said Leah.
Peyton rose to her feet and shook hands with both of them. “Thank you for the information.”
Leah shrugged. “Ain’t no thing.”
* * *
Marco drove her back to the precinct. She climbed out of the Charger and waited for him to cross around the back of it.
“I think I’m going to head out,” she said. “It’s almost 5:00.”
He frowned at her. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, I’m just feeling like a hot shower and a night in front of the television.”
He dropped his gaze and stared at the toe of his work boots. “We could get a drink.”
She touched his arm. “I just need to work through this on my own, Marco. I’m fine, really.”
He nodded.
“Will you debrief Defino for me?”
“Of course.”
She pulled out the key to her Corolla and started to turn toward it, but she stopped and turned back around. Stepping up to him, she lifted on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then she backed away. He gave her a smile and held up a hand, then he shifted toward the precinct.
Peyton waited in her little green Corolla until he climbed the stairs and disappeared inside. She felt guilty lying to him, but she didn’t think he would understand where she wanted to go next. He’d think she was meddling and wouldn’t understand the strange feeling she had. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her notebook and flipped to the page where she’d written Maria’s new address. Maria’s new locale was in the Sunset District on the edge of the City, bordering Highway 1.
Starting the Corolla, she pulled out of the parking lot. As she drove through the commute hour traffic, she played their current case over in her mind. Abe had said Meilin was the most well liked of the contestants by both the public and her competitors, but the people who worked for her now had conflicting feelings. Which one was the true Meilin? And what about Leah’s comment about her liking attention from men? That could certainly turn into a problem if she did more than flirt with them.
She’d definitely noticed Marco’s looks, but that meant less than nothing. All women, and a good number of men, noticed him. Still, a lover’s triangle would give the shooter a motive, but why attack Matt and leave Meilin alone? A killer so bold as to enter the victim’s house when others were around probably wouldn’t hesitate to attack Meilin too. And if that were true, it meant Meilin might still be in danger.
Peyton pulled out of traffic and reached for her phone, pressing the contact list for Marco’s number. She watched the traffic surge around her as she waited for him to pick up.
“Hey,” came his voice on the other end.
“Hey, did you find out if Meilin or Matt had a gun registered in their names?”
“Yeah, nothing.”
“I’ve been thinking. If this is a lover’s triangle, like Defino suggested, Meilin may be in danger. Who’s on duty tonight?”
“Hold on.” She could hear the click of a mouse. “Holmes.”
“Is Meilin still at the Marriott?”
“Yeah, she booked it for the whole week.”
“You might alert Holmes to be on the look-out and have any calls from her patched directly through to him.”
“Got it.”
“Thanks, partner.”
“No problem. Enjoy your TV. I hear there’s a great reality show on about cooking.”
“Ranks right up there with
growing grass.”
He laughed. “Later, Brooks.”
“Later, Marco baby.” She hung up and pulled out into traffic again.
She arrived at Maria’s address close to 6:00. She parked the car in front of a single story house that squatted over the garage and stared up at the front windows. Like so many homes in San Francisco, a long enclosed staircase led up to the front door. She couldn’t see any lights on inside and the porch light was out. Maybe no one was home?
Still, it didn’t hurt to check it out.
Climbing out of the car, she started to reach for her jacket, then stopped. Although the fog perpetually lay over the Sunset, it wasn’t really cold. Adjusting her shoulder harness, she wondered if she should lock her gun in the trunk. Naw, she didn’t intend to stay. She just wanted to check on Maria and go. The idea of a hot shower and television actually sounded enticing.
She locked the car and stepped up on the sidewalk. Jogging up the stairs, she hesitated at the top and pressed her ear to the door, listening. She didn’t hear anything on the other side – no voices, no television, no sounds of habitation.
She knocked loudly three times, the sound echoing away into the fog. The square tiled landing had no windows, just the solid oak door with its peeling green paint. A splattering of mildew darkened a corner of the white stucco and the threshold was split and warped.
She placed her hands in her back pockets and rocked on her heels. She wondered how long she should wait. Maria wouldn’t be thrilled to see her, true, but she would just express her concern, then leave. No harm, no foul.
Noticing a doorbell beside the door, she reached to push it, but the bare-bulb porch light suddenly went on. A lock turned on the door and the door creaked open a crack. Maria peeked out, her hair in a messy ponytail, her face naked of the usual make-up she wore.
“Brooks, what the hell are you doing here?”
“You haven’t been at work in four days. I was worried. Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. How did you get my address?”
“Detective,” said Peyton with a forced smile. She’d expected Maria to be less than pleased, but she was downright hostile about it. Tilting her head, Peyton tried to get a better look at her. “Is that a black eye?”
“Just go away, Brooks, all right? Everything’s fine. I’ll be at work in a day or two.”
Peyton put a hand against the door. “Let me come in, Maria.”
“Just go away, Brooks. You have no right to come here. I don’t want you at my house.”
“Look, if you’re in trouble…”
“I’m not in trouble. I just need you to get the hell out of here.”
Peyton could hear someone moving in the house behind her. Maria did too and her expression grew panicked.
“Please go,” she whispered.
“I told you to get rid of her!” came a loud male voice.
Peyton’s jaw firmed and she applied more pressure to the door, but suddenly a hand snaked out and grabbed Maria’s ponytail, yanking her backward. Maria uttered a sobbing cry, then disappeared as the door was slammed shut.
Peyton leaped for it and turned the handle, shoving it open. She caught sight of Maria crumpled against the wall with a man looming over her, his fists raised.
“Hey!” Peyton shouted, starting forward, but before she could get to Maria, the man swung his leg around, his foot connecting with her jaw. Stunned, she staggered and nearly lost her balance, but he came back with his other foot and slammed a kick into her ribs.
Pain exploded in Peyton’s side and the breath rushed out of her. A moment later, he slammed into her, taking her back into the wall next to the door, her head smacking against the molding. Bracing his forearm across her throat, he leaned his whole weight into her. Peyton gasped for air, scrambling for her shoulder harness. He was so intent on choking her that he didn’t notice.
She tore the gun free, thrusting the barrel against his temple. “Don’t move or I’ll blow your fucking brains out!”
The man’s eyes widened, then he eased off the pressure on Peyton’s throat.
“Maybe Maria didn’t tell you that she works with cops, asshole.”
He held up his hands on either side of him, but he still had her pinned with the weight of his body.
“Back your ass up and keep your hands where I can see them.”
He backed up and Peyton shifted the gun so it pointed directly at his forehead. She braced it with her other hand to hold it steady. She could feel her jaw already beginning to swell and it felt like someone had shoved a hot poker under her ribs.
“Now get on your knees real slow. You make any funny moves and I will put a bullet in you.”
He kept eye contact with her as he lowered himself to his knees. He was about five ten, not overly bulky, but he had a lean musculature and a good fifty pounds on her. He was Caucasian, brown hair, brown eyes. He might have been handsome, except there was something cruel about the close-set eyes and the thin-lipped mouth.
Peyton stepped closer to him, bracing her legs. “Now get on your stomach and put your hands behind you.”
As he complied with her orders, Peyton glanced at Maria where she huddled on the floor, clutching her right shoulder. “Get my cuffs, Maria.”
She struggled to pull herself up and limped to Peyton’s side, taking the cuffs from her belt. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over, but she gave Peyton a determined look.
“Put them on him, tight.”
Maria sank down beside him and snapped the first cuff on his wrist. He didn’t resist, but glared up at Peyton the entire time. Reaching into her belt, she pulled out a zip tie and held it out to Maria with one hand, the other on her gun. “Tie up his feet as well.” No way was she letting this bastard kick her again.
Maria struggled to get it pulled tight, but she finally had it, then she slid back from him and huddled against the wall once more. Peyton let out a pant of relief and lowered the gun, stepping over him and going to Maria. She sank down beside her, holding the gun in one hand and reaching for her phone with the other.
Maria was breathing rapidly in shock or pain, Peyton wasn’t sure, and the tears kept streaming down her cheeks. “Look what he did to your face,” she whispered.
Peyton touched her left cheek with the back of the hand that held her phone. “Is your shoulder dislocated?”
“I think so. My stomach hurts too.”
Peyton nodded and thumbed on the phone.
Maria reached over with her good hand and covered the display. “What are you doing?”
“Calling for backup, then an ambulance.”
“Please don’t call Marco.”
Peyton frowned at that. “Why?”
“Please don’t. He’ll go crazy and this is bad enough without him knowing.”
“Okay. What about Holmes? He’s on duty tonight.”
Maria nodded, reaching for her shoulder again. “Holmes is fine. Just not Marco.”
Peyton wasn’t sure what the hell to make of that, but she didn’t argue, dialing Holmes’ number. He picked up on the second ring. “Drew, I need your help.”
He gave a laugh. “I always knew you’d call me one of these times. What did you screw up now?”
“This is serious, Drew.” She briefly told him what happened and gave him the address. “Can you call an ambulance?”
“I’m on it. Sit tight and I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you,” she said and released the call, leaning back against the wall beside Maria. Her jaw ached and her ribs were on fire. Damn it all, what if the rat-bastard broke something? For some reason, she desperately wanted to call Marco. No matter what Maria said, she wished he was here with her.
Rolling her head on the wall, she gave Maria a faint smile. “How you holding up?”
Maria swallowed hard, the tears dropping off her chin. “I feel like such a damn fool. I really thought this was going somewhere.”
“Oh, he’s definitely going somewhere
. It’s called jail.”
Maria gave a bark of laughter, then moaned in pain. “Don’t do that.”
Peyton smiled. “This is why I’ve always thought you’d be better with a woman.”
Maria moaned again, choking on a laugh. She bumped Peyton’s shoulder gently with her own. “Please stop, Brooks. Haven’t I been through enough?”
“I suppose,” said Peyton, “but in a few minutes, Drew Holmes will be coming through that door and I can already imagine the shit he’s gonna give us.”
“That ain’t nothing,” said Maria quietly. “Just you wait ‘til Marco gets a look at your face.”
CHAPTER 4
Rick Montano set a box on Gabby’s desk and looked up at her. She was returning from the file room.
The DNA from the hairbrush in Lois Clearwater’s car had come back inconclusive, no match in the system. They were no closer to finding the mother of three than they had been two weeks ago.
“Is that the Witan case?” she asked.
“Sure is. Just came in. What’s it doing in New York?”
Gabby shook her head. “Cold Case up there asked for it. Didn’t really tell Billy why.”
“Where is Boy Wonder?”
“Searching for any information we can find on the Witans – traffic tickets, jury summons, lawsuits, anything at all that might explain why someone wanted them dead.”
“Have you contacted Buck Reiter yet?”
“Yeah.” She flattened her hand on the cover of the cardboard box. “He’s on an Alaskan cruise with his wife for another three days.”
“Must be nice.”
She smiled. “I know. First I couldn’t wait to be 21, now I can’t wait to retire. Something wrong with that.”
Rick shrugged. “Want me to help you with this?”
“Sure.” She hooked Billy’s chair and pulled it over, then sat down in her own. Lifting the lid, she pulled out a brown file and set it on her blotter.
Rick looked over the top of the box and pulled out some folded clothes in a sealed plastic bag. She could see the blood stains on the fabric even from where she sat.
“Carol or David’s?”
“Carol,” said Rick, setting it aside. He pulled out another bag and set it on top of the first. “This is David’s.” He reached in again and added a third set to the pile.
Murder in Chinatown (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 5) Page 6
