The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  Mick leaned forward to take a closer look at the pictures that spilled from the bag’s zippered opening.

  “She was so beautiful as a child and in high school,” Johnelle said, as she focused on the picture she held. “I can almost envision what she’d look like today,” she confided and then shook her head as a shudder tinged her words. “Ms. Sellars, my daughter was a determined girl who knew what she wanted from this life. She was goal oriented. She received a full scholarship to Clark. Nothing to sneeze at,” Johnelle’s dark eyes brimmed with motherly pride. “Full scholarships are impressive to anyone,” she dropped the picture and leaned against the oak ladder-backed chair.

  “Sera was so happy and confident. I believe she began to think she could do anything. Including going after and snagging one of the beautiful Ramseys.”

  Mick looked up from the photo she’d been studying. “Should I take that to mean that she wasn’t interested in boys much?”

  “Sera was interested,” Johnelle said, pulling the wrapper from her straw, “but from afar. She wasn’t going to let it get in the way of her studies. But-” she sighed, “the lure of the Ramsey men is hard for any woman to deny for long. Sera had begun to push herself, to use her confidence to go after what she wanted.”

  “And which Ramsey did she want?” Mick asked, absently stirring her straw in her juice.

  Johnelle smiled. “I think she was a little in love with them all,” she smoothed both hands across the coral button-down skirt she wore. “Of course, it was the twins who snagged the majority of the nods then.”

  “And how did the Ramseys feel about Sera?” Mick asked.

  Johnelle seemed to tense, her round face losing some of its soft, haunted appearance. “I never really knew. I never had any idea how interested she was in boys, let alone the Ramseys, until after she was- I found a diary Sera kept. That’s how I discovered much of it. The one I found seems to pick up in the middle of something, so I think there could be another that goes into more detail.”

  “Mrs. Black,” Mick leaned across the table. “You know I’m not here for a story anymore. The Ramseys consider this book to be a closed issue.”

  “I called you here today because I want to hire you to investigate my daughter’s murder.”

  “Mrs. Black. I’m not an investigator-”

  “You’re an investigative journalist,” Johnelle challenged. “Use what you find and write that book on your own. Blow those sons of bitches out of the water.”

  “Mrs. Black-”

  “They killed my baby!” she hissed, her eyes pooling with tears. “I know it wasn’t suicide,” she swore. “I’m not saying they all did it, but one of them is sure as hell responsible. I can’t rest. I can’t live without knowing what happened. My life has been a hollow shell since that night.”

  It was easy for Mick to see the sadness and love on the woman’s face. Tears began to pressure her own eyes for release. What she wouldn’t have given to know her own mother loved her that way. But she hadn’t. Johnelle Black couldn’t live not knowing what really happened to her child. Her mother had left her alone and gone to live her life elsewhere without a care for her own daughter’s well-being.

  “Mrs. Black-”

  “If it’s a question of money, I have plenty,” Johnelle informed her. “The phrase ‘filthy rich’ is a perfect description of me. I’ve felt filthy ever since I accepted that damn payoff.”

  “Payoff?” Mick set her jaw against her palm.

  Johnelle grimaced, while adding a clear liquid from a silver flash to her glass of OJ. “They came to me, asking me not to make a scene, not to make it harder for them. ‘Let Sera’s memory be peaceful’, they said. They even arranged and paid for the funeral,” she paused to wipe her tear-streaked face. “I took the money they offered. It was dirty, but it was a comfort. I invested wisely and could repay them a hundred times if I wanted. It’s allowed me to indulged in things-” she waved the flask- “in things that could dull the pain...you must think I’m trash?” she unscrewed the flask cap once more.

  “I think you’re a mother who loves her daughter and was robbed of a life with her.” Mick closed her hand over Johnelle’s before she could pour more vodka into the juice. “I’ll do it,” she decided smiling when Johnelle shed tears of happiness and leaned down to kiss her hand.

  ~~~

  Quest relaxed one massive shoulder against the wall, his hands hidden inside the deep pockets of his eggplant trousers. His seductively haunting gray-black stare began a leisurely ascent past the sexy, completely feminine strappy high heels, up the incredible shapely length of toned legs and thighs. Tilting his head just a fraction, he was able to glimpse more than a few tantalizing peeks offered by the splits along each side of the figure-flattering dress. The unconsciously arousing heaves of her breasts were igniting every hormone he possessed.

  “Damn it,” she hissed and effectively drew his stare to her mouth.

  Mick’s fingers trembled as did the rest of her. Nervousness and a case of the shivers hit her body relentlessly. She didn’t need to look at Quest to know that his eyes were on her. The intensity of that look was as potent as any touch.

  “Damn key,” she whispered, forcing a laugh to mask her uneasiness as she tried unsuccessfully to gain entrance to her suite.

  Quest continued to lean against the wall near the door. He indulged in a few more minutes of sightseeing before leaning over and pulling the card from her hand. “Maybe it’s not working because it’s your library card.”

  Mick’s mouth fell open and then she closed her eyes and uttered another nervous laugh. “That explains it,” she said and began to rummage in her purse again. She couldn’t resist a sideways glance at Quest when his soft chuckles filled the air.

  Come on, Mick, shape up. You can do this,” she told herself while scouring the bag. All night she’d been consumed by her conversation with Johnelle Black and the decision she’d made to go forward with the book or rather the investigation into a young woman’s death. Quest had to be told. This wasn’t something she could or should wait to get into.

  When? When was the right time? She’d wrestled with those questions most of the evening. Before dinner? No. They’d had a great meal, great conversation. The usual. They took in a set by the group at the club. Lovely. Now they were back at her hotel and it was time to show and prove. She located the key, then cleared her throat and unlocked the door.

  “What’ll you have?” Mick asked, once they were inside the room and she was heading toward the bar cart. She never completed the trip.

  Quest’s hands folded over her upper arms and he pulled her back next to his solid frame. His mouth found her earlobe and began a merciless assault, teasing the satiny skin there. One of his massive hands left her arm to cup her breast. The nipple, already rigid and pouting, was the lucky recipient of his affections.

  Oh yes...she’d forgotten this part- the heart-stopping love scene that usually took place right there in that room. It never went further than a devastating kiss and possessive caressing. Still, it was enough to leave her writhing in ecstasy on the sofa as he pressed a brotherly kiss to her cheek and said he’d see her tomorrow before he walked out the door.

  Mick turned in his arms, determined to tell him the scene would play differently that night. She never had the chance.

  Quest captured her mouth in a fantastic kiss. His tongue thrust lustily and deep as though he were thirsty for the taste of her. His eyes were tightly closed, so that a tiny furrow formed between his sleek black brows. He had the look of complete and unflinching concentration to kiss her senseless.

  Mick whimpered, her hands smoothing across the incredible breadth of his shoulders. Her fingers grazed his soft, close-cut hair and she gave in to the delicious sensations the kiss roused. Her confession could wait until the scene ended, she decided.

  Quest however, had something different in mind for the evening. Had Mick known that, she would surely have told him her news the moment she’d seen him
that evening. His mouth was everywhere, kissing her lips, outlining the mole there with his tongue, grazing his teeth across the curve of her jaw and suckling her earlobe in a feverishly possessive manner.

  He placed her on the oversized sofa and then followed her down. Mick uttered an indecipherable sound into the air as her breasts and nipples were thoroughly manipulated. The row of tiny buttons had proven to be a minute obstacle. He favored the undersides of her breasts with gentle nudges from his nose, before delving lower. His mouth dipped past one of the splits in her dress in search of what he most wanted. His nose grazed her sex clearly outlined against the lacy fabric of her white panties. Mick’s lashes fluttered amidst waves of unexpected arousal.

  “Wait,” she gasped, a moment later, her hand tensing on his shoulders. “Oh wait,” she moaned. “Mmm…” she added, when his tongue teased her through the material.

  Quest’s expression was arrogance pure and simple. “You’re sure?” he queried, mouthing the words against the dampening center of her undergarment.

  “Wait…” she tried, failing when a sob followed the word.

  Quest rose above her then and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Do you want me to?” To help her decide, he smoothly inserted his middle finger just slightly inside her center.

  “Mmm...no...no don’t...don’t stop...don’t stop yet…” she chanted, arching up to take just a bit more of the caress. He barely rotated the digit in the wealth of moisture he discovered.

  Quest suckled the diamond stud adorning her earlobe. He loved the helpless whimpers she emitted when he barely moved his finger or when his thumb stroked the extra-sensitive nub of her clit.

  He ended the caress and she moaned her disappointment. When he settled himself fully against her and Mick felt the extent of his thrusting power, she forced herself to sober.

  “Quest, Quest, wait, wait.”

  “Mick…” he sounded tortured then, hiding his handsome face in the crook of her neck.

  She was just as agitated. “I don’t want you to, but you should. I...I have something I need to say.”

  He raised his head to search her light eyes with his unsettling ones. “Something you need to say? Now?”

  She nodded, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “Mmm-hmm,” she confirmed and then cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said firmly that time.

  Quest closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the base of her throat. Michaela’s lashes fluttered as she silently commanded herself not to arch or grind her hips against the delicious hardness right next to the part of her that ached most for it. To her relief, she felt the powerful erection subside as Quest took deep breaths and sought to quell his desire.

  He moved away at last and leaned back against the opposite end of the sofa. Mick slowly pushed herself up, her feet resting in his lap as she watched him. After a while, Quest raised his hand, signaling for her to go on with what she wanted to say.

  Mick swung her legs to the floor, smoothing her hands across her hips as she stood. “I met with Johnelle Black today,” she announced when she felt there was enough space between them.

  Quest’s head snapped up when he heard the name, but Mick had her back turned and didn’t see his reaction.

  “We talked about her daughter, Sera. Her death,” she went on, wringing her hands as she spoke. “She insists that it wasn’t suicide, but murder. She wants me to investigate, she says she’ll financially back a book or simply a look into the case. She told me about the payoff she got from your family.”

  Mick stopped talking then and turned to observe Quest. She didn’t care for the set look on his face, the darkness of his eyes, or the way he absently massaged his left arm. She took a seat in the armchair opposite the sofa and waited.

  “Will you do it?” he asked finally.

  “The woman loves and misses her daughter,” Mick leaned forward to brace her elbows on her knees. “You wouldn’t understand what it does to someone like me to see that. You’ve always had the love of your parents. I don’t know what that is,” she settled back in the chair. “I can’t turn away from a request like that.”

  Quest studied her for a long moment. His expression offered no clues about his thoughts.

  Mick wanted to scream at him to show some sort of reaction. It was then that he told her he should go. With a nod, Mick stood and followed him to the door. Quest left without a word or a look back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I swear I didn’t give anyone your contact information in Seattle,” County said again as Mick grilled her by phone about the call she’d received from Johnelle Black. “I was hoping something like this would happen though. I wish I could give the person who did give her your number a big hug.”

  Mick flopped down into the chair before the message desk. “Huh?”

  County hesitated a moment. “This should be done and you know it. That’s why you agreed to help her.”

  “Quest looked like I’d just thrown a brick at his chest,” Mick envisioned the look on his face before he left her suite the night before.

  “Look Mick, you know I think Quest Ramsey is fantastic,” County heard the dismay in her friend’s voice, “but his family has a lot of secrets. Some of those secrets may be worth revealing, you know?”

  Mick fidgeted with the lace hem of her nightie. “Yeah,” she admitted.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “County!” Mick cried, sitting straight in the chair. “Just because I’m concerned about what this news did to him doesn’t mean I- I’ve seen him a lot and we’ve gotten close, but- you’re impossible.”

  “Mmm...so that’s a yes, right?”

  Mick groaned, laying her forehead against the desk. “I’m so weak,” she lamented.

  “Girl, it’s not weak to have those feelings.”

  “It is when they get in the way of work.”

  “Work? Mick look, alright? Yes, when you work, I make money. But that’s not what life’s all about. All that dramatic, silly, heart-pounding stuff you find so corny, so bothersome is what makes life-love worth having. It’s what tells you you’re alive, hon.”

  County was right. Mick knew it. After all, hadn’t she been telling herself that very thing? “So you’re saying I shouldn’t do the book or become involved in the investigation? Just turn it down, run to Quest and confess my love before we race off into the sunset?”

  “You phrased that well. Could it be you’ve already thought of doing that very thing?”

  “When’d you become so sarcastic?” Mick asked, running a hand through her tousle of curls.

  “You’ve rubbed off on me,” County said. “And now that you’ve mentioned it, you don’t seem nearly as sarcastic as usual. Could it be those sappy emotions of love are wearing away at that protective shell around your heart?”

  “It may be just that,” Mick admitted, none too happy over the fact. “It’s all the more reason to become involved with this.”

  “Mick-”

  “Quest Ramsey is a dream. A woman’s fantasy. But dreams and fantasies fade, love grows old. Once the newness wears off the pain begins. I was new to my parents once. Then they got bored and threw me away.”

  “Baby? You alright?” County asked, concerned by the turn in the conversation. She could hear Mick’s shuddery breathing across the line.

  Mick shook her head as though she was even surprised by her words. “County I’ll let you go now. I’ll call and tell you what flight,” she added hastily and clicked off the cordless phone.

  ***

  Selma Murphy’s cheeks must have been burning furiously if the blush darkening her milky skin to a deep crimson, was any clue. Still, she managed to efficiently wrap the huge roast beef on rye, secure it in a bag stamped with the deli’s logo and pass it to the absolutely stunning man on the other side of the long glass counter.

  “Thank you, Mr. Ramsey.” Selma’s voice carried a hushed reverence yet its underlying laughter was richly evident.

  “
Now Selma...you know what I’m waiting to hear…”

  “Beat it, Ramsey. No more advising my daughter to ask me for a raise!” Bueford Murphy called from the kitchen directly behind the busy counter. His voice was filled with as much laughter as Selma’s.

  Taurus faked a look of astonishment and raised his roast beef on rye. “When you can make a sandwich this good, you should be raking in the big bucks!”

  “She’ll be raking in the big bucks when she graduates highschool and college and goes to work for you at Ramsey!” Bueford predicted, sending a roar of laughter waving out from the busy kitchen to the equally busy front counter.

  Taurus shrugged, sending Selma Murphy a playfully forlorn look. “I tried, kid. Come see me in about five years and we’ll get you working for folks who’ll appreciate you.”

  “Hey!” Bueford Murphy playfully raged.

  Taurus slanted the teenager behind the counter a wink that sent her blushing and then bade her father a good afternoon before he left the counter. His intention was to leave and enjoy his lunch back at the office. That intention fled his thoughts when he spotted Michaela Sellars seated alone across the deli’s airy naturally lit dining room.

  “Safe to join you?” he asked, smiling when she looked up as he approached.

  “It is,” Mick returned the smile and waved toward one of the empty chairs at the round table where she’d enjoyed lunch while reviewing her notes.

  “What are you doing here?” Mick cleared papers from the table as she questioned him.

  “My usual lunch stop,” Taurus shrugged sending barely a ripple through the honey-wheat vest he wore over a mushroom colored shirt. His bright entrancing gaze scanned the room. “Food’s fantastic and it’s close to the office, so…”

  “And what is it you do for Ramsey again?” Mick worked on finishing off the last of her chips.

  “I’m in legal,” he unwrapped his sandwich.

  Mick waved a chip in realization, “Right, right- President of Legal Affairs. Impressive.”