The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  ~~~

  Tykira’s laughter filled the living room as her husband placed her on the sofa. “Your neighbors are going to think you’ve gone crazy. You’re always carrying me inside this place!”

  Quay shrugged. “This time, it’s for tradition,” he excused.

  Ty’s look was playfully skeptical. “I don’t know, every woman who lives here is gonna be after her man to do the same.”

  “Tough. A woman should be carried every now and then,” he smoothed his hands across her jean clad thighs. “Especially if she’s you,” he leaned close to ply her neck with kisses.

  Ty smiled contentedly and cupped the back of his head. When Quay’s innocent kisses travelled to the opening of her blouse, she sobered. “So what do you want to do today?” she asked.

  “I’m doin’ it,” he growled, his lips grazing the tops of her breasts.

  “Quay, be serious. I’m talking about work.”

  “No problem,” he moved to relax next to her on the sofa. “I can wait for you to handle your business.”

  Ty pushed back a curl that had tumbled from her upswept hairstyle. “Not my business. Yours.”

  Quay waved a hand, his eyes closed. “Q has it covered for a little while longer.”

  Ty knew this was going to be unpleasant but felt she had to try. “Sweetie, what about the rest of your family?” she winced when she saw the muscle flex in his jaw. “I know you don’t want to discuss it,” she called when he bolted from the sofa, “but you’ve got me worried. You’re acting like they don’t exist.”

  Quay poured a tumbler full of gin, downed it and prepared for another.

  “You’re gonna have to face this thing sooner or later,” she said when he was halfway through a second glass. When he slammed it down on the bar, she shook her head.

  “You know what’s goin’ on here, Tyke.” he muttered.

  “And I’m sorry, but I don’t want this between us and it will be as long as we’re here in Seattle.”

  Quay reached for the glass and drained it. “We don’t have to be in Seattle.”

  Stunned, Ty searched his onyx gaze for some hint that he was teasing. She found no such hint. “What about your business? My mom? Your family? Baby, I can see us making a life here.”

  “Seeing my family makes me think about all the time I spent without you.”

  She scooted to the edge of the black suede sofa “Quay-”

  “No Tyke,” he raised a hand as he stepped from behind the bar, “it wasn’t a good time. I tried to make it a good time, had everyone convinced,” he shared with a right dimpled grin that faded after a moment. “I had everyone convinced but myself. I don’t want to go back to that.”

  Ty left the sofa and went over to pull him into a tight hug. “But you won’t. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” she kissed his ear when he buried his face in her neck. “Quay?” she whispered, once they’d stood silent in the embrace for a time.

  “Hmm?” he grunted.

  “Whether we’re here or not, there may come a time when we’ll run into Marc or Houston. What happens when we do?” she felt his arms tighten about her waist.

  “Tyke, I honestly don’t know.”

  ***

  “County? Can I see you a minute please?”

  Contessa braced herself when she heard Spivey’s voice. She knew she was about to hear something she really didn’t want to. Over the last several weeks, her research crew had uncovered several interesting tidbits on many of the Ramseys. Many had speculated there could possibly be enough material for an engrossing novel on each family member.

  “Yeah?” she turned to favor Spivey with a smile. She preceded him to his office door and folded her arms across her chest. “Do I have to guess?” she prompted, when Spivey stood grinning for at least five seconds.

  “We may have something very interesting going on with the Ramseys right here in our own backyard,” he shared.

  County waved a hand, motioning for him to continue.

  “I have a friend who’s a gofer at The Spot for one of the managers there,” he moved past County to take a seat behind his desk. “He told me they’ve been having problems with girls disappearing.”

  “Disappearing?” County shook her head for clarification.

  “Since before the beginning of the year,” Spivey said, shuffling through the contents of a folder, “girls have been leaving the club in a steady stream. It’s picked up even more in the last month.”

  County shrugged. “What’s so special about that? Have they been abducted or something?”

  “It’s not that. According to my friend they’ve found new jobs.”

  “Again Spivey, I don’t see why that’s a big deal,” she hid her hands in the pockets of her gray pin-striped trousers. “You know, stripping and prostitution aren’t exactly what most girls dream of doing when they grow up.”

  Spivey nodded to concede the point. “But it could be a tough business to leave. Know what I mean?” he challenged.

  “Well does your contact know where the girls are working?”

  Spivey’s attractive brown face reflected disappointment. “Trail goes cold there. But my boy did say the managers had a big meeting last week- closed sessions. Says he gonna keep checking for me.”

  “Right…”

  “County? Um...are you sure you want me to keep looking?”

  She blinked, not bothering to hide the fact that the question surprised as much as it embarrassed her. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, knowing full well he was referring to her very public relationship with the club’s owner.

  Spivey studied his boss, taking in the determined look in her eyes. It was a look he knew very well one that gave a clear answer to his question. He nodded. “Just checking,” he told her.

  County tugged on the cuffs of the white blouse that peeked from the sleeves of her gray blazer. “Come see me when you’ve got more,” she instructed and then left his office.

  In the hall, she dropped the mask and let her unease fall into place. She and Fernando Ramsey had become more than lovers. He was becoming so dear to her a friend- a relationship she really didn’t think could exist with a man who was a lover. What if Spivey uncovered something damaging? Grimacing at the thought, she punched her palm with a balled fist. This was business and it should be her first and only consideration. The only problem was her first and only consideration was taking a back seat to the man she believed she was falling in love with.

  ~~~

  “But isn’t it a little too soon to tell?” Mick asked, nervously twirling a curly lock around her finger as she spoke with her obstetrician.

  “It’s exactly the time,” Dr. Georgian Steins informed his patient.

  “I see.”

  Clearing his throat, Dr. Steins debated on his next words. “We could always keep the ultrasound results for the baby’s sex a secret,” he proposed, sensing her hesitation. “If you and Quest would like for it to be a surprise.”

  “Quest,” Mick blinked as her husband came to mind. “I have no idea whether he wants to know or not. I-I haven’t even told him about the ultrasound I-um-I don’t know what he’ll say,” she uttered a nervous laugh. “I suppose I should’ve already asked.”

  Dr. Steins chuckled as well. “Michaela don’t be so hard on yourself. I guarantee you’ll let many things slip your mind in the coming weeks and months. A huge change is about to take place in your life,” he cautioned, taking her off-kilter behavior as signs of mother-to-be angst.

  “Thanks Dr. Steins, I’ll talk with you later today,” Mick didn’t bother to tell the man her attitude had to do with a lot more than being scatterbrained. She wrapped up the call in time to hear her husband bellowing her name.

  “In the den, Quest!” she waited for his steps to draw closer before she put a dazzling smile in place.

  Quest didn’t waste time with verbal greetings. The look on his gorgeous molasses-toned face was determined as he crossed the den and pulled her close. Mick gave a breathle
ss moan when he captured her mouth in a possessive kiss. She responded eagerly thrusting her tongue against his out of sheer desire.

  “When do you have to be back?” she gasped when he released her mouth to shower her jaw with kisses.

  “I don’t,” he growled. Then, as though he somehow sensed her mood, drew away to observe her. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

  Mick didn’t bother to deny. “I just spoke with Dr. Steins. He wants to set a date for the ultrasound. I didn’t know if you could be there.”

  “You just tell me when it is and I’ll be there,” he leaned in to kiss the mole at the corner of her mouth.

  “Um, he also said we could find out the baby’s sex.”

  Quest’s brows rose in surprise. “Already?”

  Mick smiled. “I was surprised too, but Dr. Steins says he should be able to tell. But he also said it could be a surprise,” she added quickly and clasped her hands against his wide chest. “We don’t have to know until the baby comes.”

  Quest shook his head. “I don’t think I can wait that long,” he witnessed Mick’s crestfallen reaction. “What? Do you want to wait?”

  She gave a quick toss of her head and tried to appear refreshed. “Whatever you want,” she said.

  “Uh-uh, what’s going on?”

  “Quest…”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “I’m getting used to it,” he teased, feigning discomfort when she smacked his forehead. “Tell me,” he urged, while leading her to one of the ladder backed bar stools in the den.

  “I’m afraid to know,” she blurted, unable to resist the persuasive power of his gray black stare.

  “Why?” he whispered, rubbing the sides of her thighs.

  Mick squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face in her hands. “I’ve been so worried that I wouldn’t do right by it. Referring to the baby as an ‘it’ somehow makes it easier to handle than saying him or her.” She met her husband’s gaze. “I’m bringing another person into the world, Quest. One who’s gonna depend on me for everything. It’s gonna be so helpless- how will I know if I’m doing right where it’s concerned?”

  “Baby,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Hell yeah, you’re gonna do right by it.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Mick challenged, searching his face as though the answer may be forthcoming. “A person usually does what they know. All I know is hurt and loss.”

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” he kissed her cheeks and forehead.

  Mick smiled and stroked the curve of his jaw. “You’re so sweet and I’ll be fine. I promise,” she whispered and leaned in to hug him. The lost expression still clouded her face as Quest’s face harbored the same look.

  ~~~

  “Hey man, Sheila said you want to see me when I got back,” Fernando called out to his partner.

  Stef looked up, grinning when he saw the man standing in his office doorway. “Good weekend?” he inquired.

  “Damn good.”

  “Where the hell you runnin’ off to every Friday, man?” Stef asked as he stood.

  “People to see,” Fernando punctuated the cool remark with a lazy shrug. “So what’s up? Why’d you want to see me?”

  “Damn man, what’s the hurry?”

  “You mean besides all the work on my desk?” Fernando challenged in sarcasm. In truth, his thoughts were only focused on a particular box of files which he’d avoided going through since acquiring it two months earlier.

  “Well, I’ll get right to it then,” Stef perched on the edge of his desk. “You got any new ideas for the Contessa House deal?”

  Frowning now, Fernando strolled past the doorway. “What do you mean, new ideas?”

  Stef’s look was innocent. “Clearly, the owner’s tough on the subject of selling. It’s gonna take a lot to convince her. The deal is a very good one and she’s still holding out. Perhaps we can come up with a few, um, creative ways to be more persuasive?” he suggested, knowing Fernando wasn’t pleased by the insinuation. Still, he had to know just how against the deal his partner was.

  “I want all negotiations ceased against that House,” Fernando simply and firmly instructed.

  “Whoa Fern, now maybe you’ve forgotten how lucrative-”

  “I mean it Stef, let it go.”

  “What made you change your mind all of a sudden?”

  Fernando’s caramel-toned face was rigid in the wake of a rising temper. “I changed my mind a long time ago.”

  Stef stroked his jaw and asked why.

  “She doesn’t want to sell,” Fernando told his partner, sounding as though the fact was apparent.

  Stefan was not convinced. “And?” he focused on a spot at the end of his silk cobalt tie. “Never stopped you before.”

  “That was before.”

  “Fern-”

  “Stef? Drop it.”

  Observing his partner and conceding the unspoken fact that Fernando’s word was final, Stef decided to let it go. For the time.

  “So then, tell me about this trip, man.”

  “It was a trip,” Fernando whispered, his tone signifying more details would not be included.

  Stef’s brows rose and he decided to let the subject slide as well. “So what about your schedule for today or is that off-limits too?”

  The question took Fernando’s thoughts back to the box that sat waiting for him in his office. “I got some digging around to do. It’s about my father.”

  Stef was heading back behind his desk. “Helping him out?” he figured.

  “Investigating him.”

  “What?” Stef locked eyes with Fernando. “Investigating your own father? Since when? Why?”

  Fernando rubbed his fingers through his crop of brown curls and shook his head. “I can’t believe it either, but it has to be done.”

  “Why man?” Stef asked again, bracing both hands upon his desktop as he leaned forward.

  “You know about my uncle Houston?” Fernando watched his friend nod. “Well, the fact that we only suspect my pops of helping to keep him out of sight is only the tip of the iceberg. We think he’s done much worse. Somethin’ has to be done to get him away from the family- before anything more comes out,” he added, easing one hand into the pocket of his blackberry trousers as he watched the view beyond the windows.

  “You sure there’s more?” Stef fixed Fernando with a wary stare.

  “I’m sure of it,” he answered without hesitation. “I only hope I’m about to get some answers.”

  Stef waited a moment and then walked over and clapped Fernando’s shoulder. “You’re a brave man, kid. I wouldn’t have the nerve to dig into my father’s business.”

  Fernando acknowledged silently that he didn’t have the nerve, either. Unfortunately, this had waited for far too long.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “How long do you think you’ll be able to hide him?” Cufi Muhammad asked his friend.

  Marc groaned and massaged his eyes. “I don’t think it can play out much longer and having him out there with you was my best idea.”

  “Maybe it’s time for you to let your brother go. Know what I mean?”

  Marc’s grin was humorless. “I know exactly what you mean and don’t think I haven’t thought of that very thing.”

  “But?”

  “As my oldest friend, you know better than anyone why I can’t do that.”

  “Do you think Houston has the nerve to bring you down with him?” Cufi asked in an incredulous tone.

  “Hell I’ve helped him to elude the police going on three months! Among other things…”

  “Among other things…” Cufi repeated the phrase as though he were contemplating.

  Marc’s brows drew close. “Care to share what you’re thinkin’, man?”

  “Do you think anyone would believe Houston if he decided to tell what he knows, my friend?”

  “My family would, that’s for damn sure,” Marc acknowledged with a
weary smile. “Hell, if I don’t have my own family on my side, how can I expect anyone else would stand there?”

  “It may be possible if no one took Houston’s ravings as fact,” Cufi said after several moments of silence.

  “Ravings?” Marc repeated.

  “Mmm. Given the nature of his crime- a crime that has occurred more than once unbeknownst to the authorities at this time. Not to mention the man’s penchant for flying off the handle.”

  “Hold it, Cufi,” Marc sat straighter in his desk chair, “are you suggesting we try to prove he’s crazy?”

  “I think it’d be rather easy.”

  “He’s my brother,” Marc noted swallowing down unexpected emotion.

  Cufi’s chuckle harbored no humor. “Look at it from a humane perspective, friend. Houston was only wanted for questioning, but he ran. That, in itself gives the hard impression of guilt. The physical evidence proves he was with Sera that night. She was a minor at the time. Clearly, he’s going down, but with an insanity defense the time he serves may not be so hard.”

  “That’s absurd!” Marc blurted, bursting into laughter as he did so. “Besides, pleading insanity is the one defense black folks don’t have a chance in hell of proving.”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing, we’re not white.”

  Cufi laughed. “A minor detail when all others are in place.”

  “Such as?”

  “Extreme wealth, power, notoriety. Your family can trace its roots back to the Motherland and in America- to the Georgia plantation you worked as slaves. Besides,” Cufi added as though he were sharing a closely guarded secret, “you know the black community doesn’t call attention to mental deficiencies as quickly as other races. It’s something we do our best to ignore. All these things could play in your favor, my friend.”

  Marc was silent, contemplating Cufi’s points for a while. At last, he began to nod slowly. “So how exactly would we go about making this happen?”

  ***

  “What ‘cha got?” County asked Spivey and Jenean as she reclined in her desk chair.

  “My contact at the club is on his game,” Spivey commended, when Jenean waved for him to begin, “it turns out that the girls are working for a local travel agency.”