All Hallows (A Peyton Brooks Homicide: The Early Cases Book 2) by M.L. Hamilton

Author:M.L. Hamilton [Hamilton, M.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Stan texted Pyke’s address to Peyton, and she pulled up directions on her phone. “It’s on Warren Drive,” she told Marco.

The complex was a large one with rectangular, two-story buildings, the lower floor painted dirt brown and the upper floor beige. Peyton stared out the Charger’s windshield as Marco parallel parked.

“Huh, it looks a little like your place.” She nudged him with her elbow. “I wonder if it has a revolving door.”

He gave her a lift of his brows. “Revolving door?”

“You know, for all the women that come in and out of your bedroom.”

“Yeah, I got the gist of where you were heading. You’re not subtle.”

She pushed open the Charger’s door. “Neither are you, buddy,” she said, stepping up on the sidewalk.

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that you have a lot of female companionship for a man who works so many hours.”

He stepped up on the sidewalk and stared down at her. “Are you jealous, Brooks?”

“Please,” she said, pushing past him and starting for the steps.

He chuckled as he followed her, but he wisely didn’t say anything.

The lobby had metal mailboxes on one side and package cubbies on the other. A short flight of steps led up to the elevators. Peyton glanced at the address, then punched the up call button. A few minutes later, the elevator arrived, and they waited while a couple got off and headed for the front doors. Getting inside, Peyton pushed the button for the second floor.

“We could have taken the stairs,” remarked Marco.

“I’ve gotten maybe four hours of sleep since yesterday, so I’m not feeling stairs right now.”

“Exercise is not the enemy, Brooks.”

She gave him an annoyed look. “Are you really telling me you’re not tired at all?”

“I can keep going for days,” he said, winking at her.

“Mmm, that’s why the revolving door.”

He shook his head. “You’re just mad because Abe agreed with me about Stan.”

The elevator doors opened and they got out, walking down the nondescript hallway toward Myles Pyke’s door.

“Here’s the thing, D’Angelo,” she said, turning to face him. “What if Stan does have a crush on me? Is that weird to you? Are you suggesting that someone couldn’t find me attractive?”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “I’m saying that you might be aware he has a crush on you and not encourage it.”

“Am I encouraging it?”

“Not specifically.”

“Argh!” she said, making claws at him. “You’re so aggravating. Just because I’m nice to someone and I’m a woman means I’m encouraging him? Are you going to tell me my clothes also make him have impure thoughts?”

He held up a hand. “Look, Brooks, don’t get all feminazi on me. I never said either of those things. I’m just saying that the man has a huge crush on you, he’s obviously not your type, so maybe just be careful.”

“How do you know he’s not my type?”

“Seriously, Brooks?”

She held up her empty hands. “No, tell me what my type is. I’m just dying to find out.”

“Can we drop this?”

“Sure. Are you done giving me grief about Stan?”

“Probably not, but we do have a case, so I’ll let it go for now.

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