The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  She was on a mission then, to work harder than ever to complete the project and get back to Colorado. It would be suicide considering what a large undertaking it was, but she knew that to stay and let herself be wooed into bed again would be just as dangerous.

  ~~~

  “Oh, not tonight,” Ty groaned when she finally pulled into her mother’s driveway. She spotted Quay’s foreboding black SUV parked a few feet away. “What is it, Quay?” she called once she’d left her vehicle and saw him walking towards her.

  He smiled, raising his hands defensively. “I only wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

  “No, you wanted to make sure I got home alone.” She folded her arms across the front of the black turtleneck she wore.

  Quay simply nodded, not bothering to argue her accuracy.

  Tykira’s brown stare narrowed. “What is it with you? One minute hot, the next minute cold. Is this still about Wake? Or do you still just enjoy playing with my head. This isn’t high school, Quay. You don’t have to play that game anymore, you know?”

  “Ty-”

  “It’s confusing and it’s cruel and I don’t have time for it. I’m here to work and then leave.”

  Quay bowed his head, cursing himself. In his desperation to see her, he hadn’t stopped to consider how she would perceive his actions. Nice, Quay. Nice as always.

  “Why don’t you use your Casanova skills on one of the many women ready to be wooed by you?” she turned to open the passenger side door of the Cherokee and collect her things.

  “And you’re not one of those women?” He spoke more to himself than to her. No, she wasn’t one of those women- she had never been. She was so much more and she’d never heard him tell her that.

  “No, I’m not one of those women, Quay. So stop, alright? Just stop.” She rested her head against the side of the SUV. “There’s no need. I didn’t come here to win a spot in your life. In spite of my…eager participation, I didn’t even come here to sleep with you.” She ended on a whisper, sighing as exhaustion claimed her.

  “Jesus,” Quay mistook her sighs for sobs and moved to console her. “Ty please, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

  “Snake,” she stiffened, “I’m not crying over you Quay. I’ve done way too much of that.”

  He nodded, but made no move to back away from her. Instinctively, his hands smoothed across her slender form moving up to fill his palms with the fullness of her breasts.

  Ty blinked, her body beginning to tingle with the desire for him that always simmered just below the surface. Helpless to deny its power, she let her head tilt and she arched deeper into his touch.

  Keeping one hand curved seductively across her bosom and the other at her hip, Quay trailed his nose across the nape of her neck. The scent of her perfume brought to mind the naughtiest acts of seduction that he ached to subject her to. His perfect teeth found the zipper that secured the turtleneck and he tugged it down, hungry to expose more of her silken dark skin.

  How she wanted him, Ty thought as his mouth skimmed her nape. That’s all it would ever be, unfortunately- want, desire, sexually satisfying and craved, yes, but nothing more. Dammit, she heard the word echo in her mind. All the years she’d spent feeling fulfilled and successful without him in her life. Now he was there again and torturing her mind and body with his attention. With strength she conjured from someplace deep, Ty slipped out of his embrace and headed toward the front door.

  Quay seemed to snap out of his pleasure-driven state of mind as well. Leaning against the SUV, he kept his back turned until Ty had disappeared inside the house.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I love you, Quay, I love you…”

  The deep, right dimple appeared as Quay smiled in his sleep. Stretching restlessly against crisp, charcoal gray sheets, he smoothed one hand across the array of taut muscles defining his chiseled abdomen. He was in the midst of a delicious albeit subconscious interlude with Tykira Lowery. Her stunning dark mane flowed wildly as her body rode his. His hands traveled her strong, beautiful form with a lover’s possession. On her lips he heard her whisper words of love-

  Quay woke with a start, his relaxed expression growing sharp with frustration. He cursed himself then, realizing the incredible scene was an incredible fantasy with no chance of becoming reality. He alone had accomplished that with no help from Wake Robinson. Quay acknowledged that the man was probably on another continent. He had to know that a life behind bars awaited him if he returned.

  Quay pressed a pillow across his face and groaned. Tykira. He loved her so much. He had loved her forever and his feelings would never change. All the women he’d used to get her out of his head were only shining examples of everything he didn’t want.

  His temper was reaching that familiar point of no return when the bedside phone rang.

  “What?” he practically growled into the receiver once he’d snatched it up. After brief hesitation on the other end, a familiar voice came through the line.

  “Wake?” Quay whispered, barely able to find his own voice.

  “Been a while,” Wake sounded calm yet uncertain.

  Slowly, Quay pushed himself up in bed. “Goin on three years. Where you been, man?”

  “You knew I had to go.”

  “Did you do this?”

  Wake didn’t pretend to be confused. “It’s complicated, man.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Quay snapped.

  “It’s complicated,” Wake stressed.

  “Where are you?” Quay asked, ordering himself to tone down his emotions.

  “Close.”

  Quay didn’t like it. “Let’s meet.”

  “Not now, but I’ll be in touch,” Wake said. “We will talk man but I have to be sure about the time and place. You got a lot of things mixed up and you don’t know the half of it.”

  “You mean the fact that you killed Sera.” Quay pointed out.

  Wake muttered a curse. “That’s not a fact. It’s not even close to a fact.”

  For a moment, Quay believed his old friend. “What’s goin on, man?” he asked.

  “This isn’t a phone conversation and I think you know that. Anyway I already said way too much.”

  Quay knew Wake was gone before he heard the dial tone signifying the line had gone dead. Leaning back in bed, he closed his eyes and groaned.

  ***

  “I know this is asking a lot considering all you’ve been through,” Mick was saying as she spoke with Johnelle Black by phone.

  “Emotions don’t control me anymore, Michaela. I need this to come to an end,” the grieving mother confided. “If something is buried with Sera, something that could bring the answers about her death, I want it done.”

  Mick nodded. “We’ll have to be discreet with the exhumation. The SPD may not approve of us delving into this particular area of the case.”

  “I understand and I’ll do whatever it takes.” Johnelle vowed. “Will you be there?”

  “Nothing could keep me away,” Mick promised.

  “You’ve been a godsend. Thank you Michaela.”

  “You take care of yourself. We’ll talk soon,” Mick waited for Johnelle to hang up before she clicked off her phone. She stood from the armchair in the bedroom’s tiny alcove.

  From their bed, Quest watched his wife massaging her eyes and neck. “Come over here,” he issued the soft command.

  Mick complied without hesitation, smiling gratefully when he pulled her down to the bed and began to massage her neck and back.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Just tired,” she admitted, relishing the relief his powerful hands applied to her aching muscles.

  Quest let his displeasure show, his gray eyes darkening just slightly. “What leads have you made in the case?” he asked, hoping to mask his frustration.

  “We think actual physical evidence may’ve been buried with Sera- in her…casket.”

  “What?” Quest hissed, his unsettling stare narrowing dangerousl
y.

  Mick turned and scooted forward. “Baby, I told Quay but promise not to say anything to anyone else,” she urged, smoothing her hands across his broad, bare shoulders. “The whole situation is a long shot.”

  “What do you think you’ll find?” Quest asked, calming some beneath his wife’s touch.

  Mick shook her head. “Well, if it runs parallel to the file Jill found, this evidence will lead us to Sera’s killer.”

  “Wake?” Quest probed.

  “Wake,” Mick sighed, her expression guarded.

  “Michaela?” Quest inclined his head to peek into her eyes.

  “I think Wake Robinson is a part of the puzzle but as crazy as this sounds, I don’t think he did this.”

  “Why do you think he’d be innocent in all this?”

  “I don’t know- a haunch? I just really believe this goes deeper than Wake.”

  “But why?”

  “I can’t make myself belief he’d have done all this and continued to live around Quay all those years,” she shrugged. “I don’t know…”

  “Have you told Quay?”

  “I haven’t even told Johnelle,” Mick groaned, dragging all ten fingers through her thick curls, “I don’t think it’d be wise to tell your brother since he’s based all his actions on the fact that Wake Robinson is the culprit.” She folded her arms across her knees and propped her chin there. “Getting Quay to latch on to the idea of another nameless, faceless perpetrator might push him just a bit too far.”

  ***

  For the next two weeks, Tykira maintained her vow to steer clear of Quay. She worked herself to frenzy to the dismay of everyone who knew her. Of course, her crew had seen her that way before but this was even more extreme than usual. She heard nothing but her own voice pushing her to give just a little more to get the job done. Now, that voice was pushing her with another advisement: finish this job and get the hell away from Quaysar Ramsey!

  She’d arrived early for the weekly meeting, mostly because she’d worked in the office designated for her and her team. She wound up spending the night. Ty woke, washed her face and brushed her teeth in the office washroom before heading up for the meeting.

  ~~~

  Jasmine Hughes, Ramsey’s administrative director, sent Tykira on up to the penthouse office. The moment Ty stepped from the elevator a sofa called to her. Minutes later, she was napping.

  Quay arrived early himself that morning. He was in no mood to run into employees and be forced to engage in conversation he had no interest in. He’d been walking a tightrope since Wake’s call. He dared not tell anyone about it, not wanting to scare the man away if he was near. Each time the phone rang, Quay jumped thinking it was his old friend.

  The reality of that made him experience more than a little self-loathing. He was Quaysar Ramsey and he ran from no one. His facial muscles tightened, drawing his handsome dark features into a fierce mask. He stormed off the elevator, his anger abating when he found Ty asleep on a sofa. He moved closer, taking a seat on the edge of the rich, blackberry suede.

  A soft smile curved his mouth when the sound of her snoring touched his ears. Leaning close, he brushed his nose across her temple. Moving back slightly, he took advantage of the moment to watch her slumber. He fondled the tendrils of hair that haphazardly fell from her upswept style and framed her face. He’d heard how hard she’d been driving herself and could see that it was true. He knew it was because of him. Arrogant thinking? Perhaps, but it was accurate. If he were her, he’d want to get as far away from his as possible too. He made a mental note to ask his father how much longer Bobbie Lowery would be on call for her business trips. She’d make sure Ty took better care of herself.

  Quay drew a fist at the thought. It should be him taking care of Ty. Would he take the opportunity if he had the chance, though? Probably not. After all, he’d already acknowledged that Wake only played a supporting role in the distance he kept from Ty. She deserved the kind of man who would put her happiness- not his own needs or best intentions- first. He’d already proven time and again that he couldn’t be that man.

  Ty woke frowning a bit as she sought to get her bearings. Then, she found herself looking right into Quay’s disturbingly dark eyes. She realized how close they were and quickly left the sofa. No words were spoken, but the tension was thick and heavy inside the room. Putting distance between them, Ty rubbed her arms across the flare-sleeves of the asymmetrical toffee brown sweater she wore. Her sigh of relief filled the room when the elevator chimed to signal the arrival of their meeting partners.

  ~~~

  The group had chosen that day to visit the project site. Quest announced that the trucks were waiting outside to carry them all to the rail yard once the meeting had drawn to a close. Quay told his brother to count him out of the trip making Ty even happier to attend. That was especially true when she discovered that Michaela would be joining them.

  ~~~

  While everyone convened near the elevator, Mick approached her brother-in-law who sat brooding in his private office.

  “Everyone’s leaving, Quay,” she watched as he glared at papers he held.

  “Not goin’,” Quay slapped the pages to his desk.

  “Why?” Mick stepped inside the office. Quay’s pointed look was a clear response to her question. “I can’t believe you’re still acting so crazy,” she scolded, “you already told Ty what’s going on.”

  “I never told her Wake is still out there somewhere.”

  “So what? What’s that got to do with how you feel?”

  The flip inquiry brought a hard frown to Quay’s face. “I’ve been asking myself that very question,” he admitted.

  “Ready babe?” Quest called, finding his wife in the office.

  “Yeah,” Mick replied idly, smiling when he pulled her back against him.

  Quay walked over and planned a kiss to Mick’s cheek before quietly excusing himself from the room. Quest held her tight, when she turned to hug him. He relished the gesture but frowned when he felt her leaning deep into the embrace as though she had no strength to stand.

  “Hey,” he leaned down to search her light eyes with his striking gray ones. “You okay?”

  Mick’s smile was weak, but she finally began to nod. “I’m just so ready for this case to be solved.”

  Quest’s grimace sparked his left dimple. “Finally, we agree on something,” he said and then escorted his wife to the elevator.

  ***

  Savannah, GA~

  Jill sat browsing through the Sera Black file for what seemed to be the hundredth time. She could only pray that the pieces of evidence noted in the record would actually be found with the body. She shook her head, silently acknowledging how much of a longshot it all was. However, she also acknowledged that such unorthodox happenings were usually the events that cinched cases.

  “Getting fed up?” Greg Youtz teased, seeing his young colleague shaking her head.

  Jill blew at her bangs, before massaging her eyes. “I’m wondering if I’ll be successful in fitting together all the pieces of this puzzle,” she confessed.

  Greg tugged at the belt, completely hidden beneath the generous expanse of his belly. “Tell me you’re not still working on that Sera Black thing?”

  Jill turned to face the man who occupied the desk diagonal from hers. “I have reason to believe it was murder, not suicide,” she omitted the information regarding the buried evidence.

  Greg lost what little coloring he had in his face. “I was on the force for ten years when she died, you know? My little girl went to school with her.”

  “Did you know the Ramseys?” Jill folded her arms across her chest.

  “Oh I knew the Ramseys,” Greg nodded. “You only have to live in Savannah a few days to know the power those folks commanded here.”

  “Do you believe they could’ve been involved in what happened?”

  “Why would you ask that?” his tone bordered on defensive.

  “The twins were suspect
ed,” Jill pretended not to notice the man’s reaction. “They’re very successful now.”

  “The twins,” Greg smirked coldly. “Those boys…let’s just say they were the least of Sera Black’s problems.”

  “What do you mean?” Jill leaned forward in her desk chair. “How?”

  Greg blinked as though realizing he’d said too much. “Be careful, little girl. The Ramseys are powerful and they claim some nasty members.”

  “But the case is so old now and-”

  “You can best believe someone’s watching. Someone’s always watching,” Greg stood and reached for the suit coat to pull over his snug white cotton shirt. “You’ll find that out if you dig any deeper into this,” with those words, the man took his exit.

  ***

  “Quay? Quay!” Jasmine raced past the opening elevator doors. “Quay,” she found her boss reclining on the conference room sofa. “Why aren’t you answering your line?”

  “Because I don’t want to hear any bullshit, bad news, or problems for at least two hours.” Quay muttered, recrossing his loafer-shod feet where they rested atop the coffee table.

  Jasmine took a deep breath and propped her hands to her hips. “Well then you’re not about to like what I’m going to tell you.”

  “And that is?” Quay left the sofa to fix a drink at the bar.

  “There was an accident at the rail yard.”

  Clamor sounded when Quay’s hand weakened. A glass decanter fell, spilling contents of scotch to the pine surface of the bar. “Where’s Ty?” his voice was gravel when he turned to Jasmine.

  “It was Ty who was involved in the accident.” Jasmine winced while relaying the news.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t-”

  “Where is she? Is she alright?”

  “All I can give you is the name of the hospital,” Jazz was already extending the card she’d scribbled the information on.