Murder on Potrero Hill (24 page)

“A woman knows what her husband is doing.”

“Of course. So you find out that Blake has cut you from the will, but surprise, surprise, he hasn’t left the money to Zoë. Here’s where I’m a little fuzzy, so feel free to fill in the details. California is a community property state. You would have had legal right to half of his holdings no matter what his will said.”

“He made me sign off on the will. He forced me to give up my rights.”

Peyton gave her a bewildered look. “Did he suspect your involvement with Annabelle’s death? Did he threaten to go to the police with his suspicion? Is that why you had to poison him, Claire? I’m just uncertain why he left the money to her future children. I can only speculate he was trying to protect Zoë until he could get you out of their lives.”

“Speculate is right. This is quite the fantasy you’ve concocted. I feel the need to inform you that I will demand your badge for this stunt.”

“So, once you learned of the will, you had to get rid of Blake. But you couldn’t let him die. That must have been tricky, wasn’t it? How did you know the dose that would destroy his mind, but not kill him?” Peyton tapped a finger against her chin. “Oh, that’s right. You’re a registered nurse, aren’t you, Claire?”

“You are bordering on disrespect now, Officer Brooks.”

“When the doctor wanted to take him off life support, you played the grieving wife who couldn’t face the loss of her husband, but damned if Zoë didn’t start questioning you. That had to feel like betrayal. How could she question your decisions? You raised her.”

Claire looked away.

“Still, you could hold her off by playing into her guilt over her father. And the tension it caused in her marriage only helped the situation. Until Brandon raped her and she got pregnant. Now Blake’s will had to loom large in your mind, a constant reminder of all that you would lose. I’m sure it was hard to kill the child you raised from a baby, but she betrayed you first with her ex-boyfriend and then by keeping the baby. Zoë had to die.”

Claire’s eyes whipped back to Peyton’s face. “Enough. I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Neal Goldman was collateral damage, I suspect. It was a rather desperate move, but you had to stall people looking into that will, especially with Blake failing as quickly as he was. I’m guessing Brandon did that one. It’s a little too personal, a little too dirty. You operate more sneakily, don’t you, Claire? You don’t really like to get your hands dirty.”

Claire met Peyton’s look with cold ferocity. “Not only will I have your badge, Officer Brooks, but I will drive you out of this city. There will be no where you can go. No one who will serve you, no one who will accept your business. I will destroy you.”

Peyton slowly clapped her hands. “That was brilliant, Claire. A truly bitch-on-wheels performance.”

Claire’s eyes bulged. “You have nothing. You have no evidence. You have no murder weapon. You have no proof.”

At that moment, Peyton heard the front door open and she glanced over her shoulder to see Cho and Simons appear in the parlor entrance. “Inspector Cho?” she said, “Would you bring me Mrs. Harper’s lovely green handbag? It’s hanging on the coat rack in the entrance.”

He disappeared and Claire sat forward. “You have no right to touch my personal belongings!”

“You’re right,” said Peyton, “which is why we got a warrant for everything in this house.”

Cho entered the room and handed Peyton the bag. Behind him Simons and Marco loomed in the doorway.

“You know the funny thing about women,” said Peyton, opening the clasp on the bag.

Claire’s back was ramrod straight, her hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes showed white around the iris.

“They keep everything they think is most important in their purses, conveniently vulnerable to thieves and police.” She fixed her gaze on Claire. “That is why I never carry one.” Turning the bag over, she dumped the contents onto the tray table – hairbrushes, compacts, lipstick tubes, wallet, and on the very top, a prescription bottle.

Peyton’s dark eyes rose from the contents of the bag to fix on Marco’s Queen Bee. “Claire Harper, you have the right to remain silent.” She reached for the cuffs on her belt and circled around the table. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” She grabbed Claire under the arm and forced her to her feet.

“I want to call my lawyer.”

Peyton slapped the first cuff on her right wrist. “You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning.”

“I want to call my lawyer now!”

Peyton slapped the cuffs on her other wrist and looked at her over her silk clad shoulder. “You might want to pay particular attention to the next part of your rights, Claire. You see, just before we came over here today, we got a call from Dr. Chang at the convalescent hospital. Blake died around 5:00PM, effectively cutting you off from all of his funds.”

Claire struggled to turn around. “What?”

Peyton smiled again. “If you cannot
afford
a lawyer, one will be provided for you at the government’s expense.” She gave her a wink and shoved her forward. “But maybe you can ask your son-in-law for help.”

EPILOGUE

Peyton wandered through the old tombstones, ornate stone monoliths of a by-gone era. Cypress trees with their bent trunks and umbrella shaped tops dotted the landscape, growing between the graves, and flowers lay strewn over the lawn, brought by grieving relatives. The sky was over-cast, dark black clouds rolling in from the ocean, casting a pall over the weathered grey of the tombstones. She marked the scattered families, huddling in coats as they paid their respects, then hurrying to cars parked along the twisting cemetery road to escape the chill.

She tucked her hands into her leather jacket and kicked at a pinecone. It rolled away, coming to rest against a great stone mausoleum with its beautifully carved frescos and ornately scrolled family name. Climbing up between two of the stone buildings, she could hear bagpipes in the distance and saw the huddle of people in black standing around a freshly dug grave.

She walked toward them, but stopped far enough away that she could hear, but not intrude. A minister in an ornately embroidered robe was reading from the
Bible
and everyone had their heads bowed, their hands clasped before them.

She leaned against a tree and sighed. Her hair tickled her neck where it lay on her shoulders, unbound from the ponytail she always wore. It was a wild mane of untamed black curls, but it was the last bit of vanity she permitted herself.

The minister finished his reading and made a motion toward the grave. Peyton could see the coffin sitting on a metal frame supported by fabric straps. It gleamed white in the bleak foggy air. Spread across its top was a blanket of red roses.

The bagpipes began their mournful wail as two men removed the roses and set them on the ground, then began turning the crank. The coffin slowly lowered into the grave, disappearing over the lip of dirt. The mourners waited until the crank stopped, then a man rose, moving toward the blanket of roses. He selected one and held it a moment, looking into the grave. Then he tossed the rose onto the coffin and stepped back. Others came forward and did the same, but as soon as they tossed their roses, they circled around to him and gave him lingering hugs.

Peyton looked down, cuffing the dirt with the toe of her boot. Closing her eyes, she let the notes of the bagpipes seep into her.
Amazing Grace.
She could not hear that song without getting a lump in her throat.

When she looked up again, the mourners were gradually moving toward their cars as the notes of the bagpipes drifted over the cemetery. Peyton waited until they were almost
all dispersed before moving toward the grave.

The man and a woman were the only ones left and they stood looking into the grave. The woman had her arm through the man’s and was leaning into him, speaking softly. Peyton stopped at the edge of the mound of dirt and waited.

They turned together and the man looked up, meeting Peyton’s eye. Jake had shaved and cut his hair. He wore a black suit and a long black raincoat. The woman beside him gave Peyton a startled look, but she didn’t release her hold on Jake’s arm. By the color of her hair and the shape of her eyes, Peyton figured they were related.

Jake moved toward her, guiding the woman over the uneven ground. “Inspector Brooks, this is my sister Faith.”

Peyton smiled, but the woman gave Jake a surprised look.

“Jake?” she said worriedly, but he patted her hand.

“I’m just here to pay my respects,” said Peyton quickly.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, but she didn’t release her brother.

“It’s all right, Faith. I’ll just be a moment. You can go to the car.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She released him, but she gave Peyton another suspicious look.

“It was nice to meet you,” said Peyton.

She didn’t answer, just nodded.

As she walked away, she looked back over her shoulder a few times, but Peyton dismissed her and turned back to Jake.

“You look better,” she said.

He gave her a grim smile. “Thanks. Shave helps.” He rubbed a hand along his chin. “Why are you here, Mighty Mouse?” He looked around the cemetery. “Where’s Adonis?”

“At a birthday party for one of a hundred nephews.” She rocked on her heels. “I’m here to tell you I’m sorry.”

Jake’s brows lifted in surprise. “You’re sorry. Wow, that’s pretty amazing.”

She heard the note of sarcasm in his voice. “I know we can’t make it up to you, but I just wanted you to know, I regret what happened to you.”

Jake looked away, staring up into the branches of the tree. “Nope, it doesn’t begin to make it up, but…” He looked down at her again. “But it helps. Thank you.”

She kicked at a tree root, pushing her hair behind her ear. “What are you going to do? Are you going home to Nebraska?”

He glanced over his shoulder where his sister was climbing into a car. “For a little while, but I don’t think I’ll stay. I’ve gotten used to the City. Besides I want to know what happens with Claire and Brandon’s trials. I need to see that through.”

Peyton nodded. “We talked with your boss, Andrews. He said he’d give you your job back, if you want it?”

Jake looked away. “I’m not going back there, but I’m glad my accounts aren’t frozen anymore.”

Peyton gave him a grim smile. “Yeah, again, I’m sorry. Look, if you need anything…”

Jake gave her an incredulous look. “I won’t be calling you, Mighty Mouse, trust me.”

Peyton laughed and he laughed with her.

“Fair enough, but know the offer is there.”

“Thanks.” He jerked his head toward the car. “I’ve got to go. People are going back to Potrero Hill for a wake.”

Peyton nodded. “I understand.” She held out her hand. “Good luck, Jake Ryder. I wish you all the best.”

He hesitated a moment, staring at her hand, then gradually he raised his and clasped it. “Good luck to you, Inspector Brooks. Tell Adonis I said hi.” He released her and turned away.

Peyton stayed under the tree watching him.

When he got a few yards beyond her, he hesitated and turned back. “By the way, I love the hair,” he called, then he continued walking.

Peyton laughed and lifted a hand to smooth her curls.

Above her the sun suddenly burst through the cloud cover as the bagpipes continued their mournful wail.

Now that you’ve finished, visit ML Hamilton at her website: authormlhamilton.com for more information on the Peyton Brooks’ mysteries and her other contemporary fiction novel,
Ravensong
.

Then check out her fantasy series,
The World of Samar
, at worldofsamar.com.

All ML Hamilton titles available at Amazon in Kindle and paperback formats.

The Complete
Peyton Brooks’ Mysteries
Collection:

Murder on Potrero Hill Volume 1

Murder in the Tenderloin Volume 2

Murder on Russian Hill Volume 3

Coming Soon:

Murder on Alcatraz Volume 4

The Complete
World of Samar
Collection:

Emerald Volume 1

The Heirs of Eldon Volume 2

The Star of Eldon Volume 3

Coming Soon:

The Spirit of Eldon Volume 4