The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

Johari whirled around, her lips parting as his question called out to her sizzling hormones.

  Moses; realizing what she thought he meant, closed his eyes and grimaced slightly. “Will you be okay traveling to Washington on your own?” he quietly restated.

  Gracing him with a soft smile, she nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  Again, Moses found that he was totally incapable of looking away from her. God, he’d missed her so. Standing there taking in the softness of her expression and the appearance of her body which felt so incredible next to his…it was almost impossible to process without his head aching.

  “I’ll just go,” he said and of course made no move to do so.

  Jo kept glancing toward the door, praying he’d leave before she lost hold of the mustard seed of strength she was using to stand. “Did you have something else to say?” she asked, hoping to prod him along.

  What you saw was a lie, he wanted to tell her. He knew that was the last thing he needed to lay on her then with everything else she had to deal with.

  “Moses?” Jo called, watching as he frowned and ran a palm across his head.

  “I’m gonna get out of here,” he almost whispered, this time heading for the door.

  Jo went to lock up behind him, her heart jumping to her throat when he turned suddenly. Her eyes became silver pools that greedily studied his gorgeous features while he stared down at her. After a moment, he brushed his fingers over the freckles smattered across her nose and high cheekbones. Then, he was gone.

  Johari blinked as though she were snapping out of a hallucination. She closed the door and rested her forehead against it while inhaling long and deep in an attempt to slow her breathing.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Seattle, Washington

  Mornings at Ramsey Bounty were enjoyable especially for the staff of ten women who handled much of the office matters for the fifty bounty hunters employed by the firm. Ramsey Bounty was located in an old brick building along the outskirts of the city. Since the guys spent little time there, the women; who basically ran the whole outfit, made the place their own. For a business that was anything but comfortable, the building practically shrieked relaxation with its long sofas and deep chairs in the lobby. Gorgeous paintings by local artists adorned the brick walls while smooth jazz vibrated through the speakers and mingled with the aromas of coffee and Danish in the air. The group of hard-nosed, grizzly bounty hunters truly appreciated the warmth, though they’d never admit it.

  That morning, the office was abuzz with sounds of voices chattering about the boss being on the premises.

  Moses rarely made appearances inside the building and; aside from his name on their paychecks no one really knew that he was actually a part of the successful organization. Moses was usually out on the front lines-handling the grittiest cases where fatalities were a high possibility. The running rumor was that the man was trying to kill himself. Needless to say, the women were entranced. The mystery of Moses Ramsey was something they were drawn to like an intoxicating fragrance. Moses’ clearly brooding aura warned every woman who met him that he was not a man to be toyed with. Moreover, an involvement with him would be on his terms.

  Of course, that mattered little and the women seemed more attracted in light of the blatant danger that seemed to shroud his exceptionally tall, lean frame. His intense, silent persona was like a living thing and he was by far the most observant and unsettling of the Ramsey men. His flawless licorice-toned skin was only contrasted by the gorgeous white double-dimpled smile that he rarely shared with anyone. The deep-set bottomless black stare was often narrowed to the point of closing, usually giving the appearance that he was avidly assessing anyone he watched.

  Women were as intrigued by the unforgettable stare as they were by the perfectly round bald head that only accentuated his seductive appeal.

  The female staff at Ramsey Bounty greeted their boss when he stopped by to make his rounds among the employees. Afterwards, he promptly disappeared inside his office leaving many of the building’s occupants to speculate on his return. Others preferred to swoon over his dark chocolate allure.

  “To what do we owe the honor and for how long?”

  Moses smiled, shaking his head as he relaxed on a long silver gray suede sofa. Daysia Arnold’s booming voice seemed to amplify inside the walls. The executive assistant was the only one outside his field men who communicated with him regularly. Moses was well aware that the rest of the staff constantly picked Daysia for information. He was pretty sure it wasn’t an easy task to pry details from the woman and had a feeling that Daysia lived to torture her female colleagues while at the same time increasing her status among them.

  “Who wants to know what?” Moses asked when he stood to hug the lovely, full-figured thirty-four year old.

  Daysia shrugged, pretending there was nothing to share. “The inquiries don’t change Moses-‘Is he married yet?’ ‘Is he dating?’ ‘Who’s he dating?’ ‘Can you set me up, Daysia?’ Let’s see…oh! And ‘Please?’.”

  Moses’ rich laughter seemed to shake the degrees, photos and portraits on the walls. “This all has to be some form of reverse sexual harassment,” he mused, while going to perch on the edge of his desk. “I’ll have to check into my rights,” he added.

  Daysia rolled her eyes. “You love it. So tell me how your trip was?”

  The easy expression fading from his face, Moses looked down at one loafer-shod foot. “Emotional,” he said.

  Her attention thoroughly captured, Daysia stepped closer to the desk. Emotional? That word and that man were two things she’d never pair up.

  “So is this something I can entice you to share?” Daysia inquired, easing a hand into a side pocket on her knee-length skirt.

  Moses had no problem doing just that. He knew whatever he said would go no farther than that room. Next to Carlos, Daysia was his closest confidant. Not even his brothers knew as much.

  “This case has to do with family issues,” he warned.

  Daysia’s arched brows rose briefly above her brown eyes. She pulled her hand from the skirt pocket and began to busy herself tidying the desk. Everyone knew how tense things were for the Ramsey clan. They were the cream of the crop in Seattle society and anything involving them was always top news.

  “I’m still sorry to hear about your dad,” Daysia said, once Moses had finished telling her about the shooting.

  Moses didn’t bother to thank her. “Part of me is sorry my mother didn’t finish the job,” he confided.

  “So how does this case tie in?” Daysia asked, attempting to move the conversation forward.

  “Remember that confession interview on my uncle Houston?” Moses asked, folding his arms across the heather gray shirt he wore with matching trousers. “It was all true,” he said when Daysia nodded. “The ship of sex slaves-all true,” he added.

  Her legs losing any capability to support, Daysia dropped to the chair behind Moses’ desk. “My God, your father was really…involved?” she breathed.

  Moses’ expression remained grim and confirming. “Now my next feat is to keep the witnesses-who include my brother’s wife-safe in order to testify.”

  Daysia smoothed a shaking hand across the French roll she wore. “I can’t believe their lives could be in danger.”

  “Believe it,” Moses advised.

  Still stunned, Daysia propped a fist to her chin and continued to frown until something caught her eye. She smiled and reached for the frame hidden beneath a pile of papers. “I was wondering when you’d take this out,” she grinned when Moses only watched her curiously and then waved Johari’s photo in the air.

  Clearly embarrassed, Moses could only lower his head and bite his bottom lip. Daysia chuckled heartily, loving the way the reaction made him look impossibly sexier.

  “Anything we should know?” she asked.

  “Her sister’s one of the victims-one of the witnesses in this whole mess. We believe my father took her when she was fifteen. I found her with him whe
n we busted the house in France-they were using that house for prostitution. My brother’s wife has a letter confirming that she was ‘making a living’ that way.”

  Daysia suddenly felt cold and began to rub her hands across the long sleeves of the white cotton blouse she wore. “Lord Moses how in the world can you be here with all this going on?” she marveled.

  Moses waved his hand. “I still have a business to run.”

  “Please, you see to it that this place runs like clockwork even when you’re not here. You’ve certainly earned a lengthy vacation away from all this.”

  Moses stood off the desk. “I’d go crazy inside of a month,” he predicted and began to pace the office.

  Daysia was familiar with the scene. Clearly, the culmination of the case was in reality only the beginning.

  “Does she know all this?” Daysia asked, glancing toward Johari’s photograph.

  Moses nodded, massaging his square jaw as he focused on the frame for a time. “I’ve seen her, told her…first time we talked in well over ten years.”

  “Hence her photo hidden in your drawer,” Daysia mused and leaned forward to brace her elbows atop the pine desk. “You’ve talked to her, now the photo is out and I’ll ask again ‘is there anything we should know?’”

  Moses continued to stroke his jaw as he paced. “No and there won’t be,” he said with a knowing smile.

  “Really?” Daysia drawled her honey-toned face alive with humor. “Even though she’s the reason why no other woman has a chance with you?”

  “She hasn’t been in my life for a long time Daysia.”

  “But she’s still in your head and your heart.”

  Finally, Moses stopped pacing. “Exactly when did you get your psych degree?” he asked.

  “Honey I don’t need a psych degree when the way you feel is written all over your face.”

  Moses closed his eyes and dropped the façade. “I hurt her. Bad. If I told her now why I did it, if I explained what she saw…it wouldn’t change the way she feels about me.”

  Daysia leaned back in the mammoth-sized desk chair and crossed her legs. “Mmm…so then you need to ask if you want to tell her for you or for her. And the doctor is out,” she decided and stood then. Her expression was soft as she regarded Moses; who she realized was closely considering what she’d just said. Stepping close, she squeezed his forearm. “Good to have you back,” she whispered and left the room.

  Again, Moses settled himself on the edge of his desk. Daysia was right, he acknowledged. Johari deserved to know the truth about what she walked in on. He didn’t need a psychology degree to know he’d humiliated her in one of the worst ways a woman could be humiliated by the man she loved. Whether it was real or some foolish ploy to protect her, she’d been hurt just the same. It was up to him to correct that or to at least try. The phone rang just then and Moses celebrated the chance to escape his overwhelming thoughts.

  “Yeah Daysia?”

  “There’s a Lucas Tamlyn on the line. LuJoReese Photographe? Says you’re not expecting his call, so I can take a message if you-“

  “That’s alright Days, I’ll take it,” Moses decided. Falling into work mode, he set aside Johari’s picture and waited for the connection. “Mr. Tamlyn,” he greeted.

  “Thank you Mr. Ramsey. I apologize for this impromptu call.” Lucas Tamlyn was saying. “I realize this isn’t the usual method of contacting someone like you.”

  Moses chuckled, knowing most people were on edge whenever they spoke to him or anyone else in his profession. “I promise you Mr. Tamlyn, the phone is indeed the usual method of contact,” he teased to break the ice.

  It worked and male laughter sounded across the phone lines for several seconds.

  “I’m sure it’s usually bail bondsmen who make these sorts of inquiries?” Lucas noted.

  “Not necessarily Mr. Tamlyn,” Moses corrected, leaning back in his desk chair. “I assist anyone who puts up bail and then has the suspect skip town.”

  “Well then, I’m afraid you’re about to be really confused by receiving my call. You see Mr. Ramsey, I didn’t post the bail, but my guess is that the person who did wanted this guy to hit the road.”

  “I’m listening,” Moses said. Sure enough, Lucas Tamlyn had his full attention and every bit of his curiosity piqued.

  “The man who jumped bail is the man I had arrested.”

  Moses had no plans to utter another word until he received the rest of the story.

  “Mr. Ramsey, LuJoReese is a company out of California,” Lucas Tamlyn continued. “Our clients are of mostly an academic background and we’ve earned a respected reputation from the various television networks, colleges, universities and journals we worked for. We handle photography of an educationally informative nature. We were started little over eight years ago by three photojournalists myself, Floyd Reese and Johari Frazier.”

  Moses blinked, leaving his reclining position for a more upright one in his desk chair. Lucas Tamlyn was still speaking as though he’d said nothing that warranted a surprised response.

  “Mr. Tamlyn,” Moses eventually interrupted. “Why exactly have you contacted me?”

  “Lucas please,” the man urged. “And I don’t need to tell you that Ramsey Bounty has its own respected reputation. You get results and it didn’t take much research to settle on your company. We need you to find the man we suspect-actually we know he’s been embezzling funds for well over a year now. His name is Kennedy Shaw. He left the company about two months before we could confront him with what we’d found out.” Lucas paused to clear his throat before continuing. “This guy was Ms. Frazier’s right hand when she was away on assignment which was quite often in light of the demand for her work. Mr. Shaw saw to the needs of the hundred and seventeen photographers on our staff. His duties included writing purchase orders and requisitions for equipment, trips, etcetera…”

  “And you believe he was capitalizing on these duties to help himself?”

  “We do.”

  Moses massaged the tightness that had taken up residence in his neck. “Do you suspect that Ms. Frazier is involved?”

  “Oh no! Never-we never did. We feel she’s been as blind to the whole thing as we were. We haven’t even contacted her about this given everything that’s going on in her family. Another reason why we decided to contact you.”

  Moses massaged the bridge of his nose. “I see,” he said.

  “Yes, we thought she’d probably feel better knowing a friend of her family was on it.”

  Friend? Ha! Moses silently mused.

  “At any rate,” Lucas went on, “Ken may try to reach her. They’ve grown to be rather close friends over the years and he may seek her assistance-ask her to go to bat for him when she doesn’t have all the details.”

  Moses was scribbling notes and trying not to assume how close of a friend Ken Shaw was to Johari. “Is there any place else he might go?”

  “Well in our business, clients, friends, associates…often they grow to be one in the same.” Lucas explained. “Ken’s reputation is very good with many influential folks-clients who’d be more than willing to back him.”

  “Understood,” Moses said with a grimace. “Are there any clients that stick out in your mind?”

  “None that I can think of off the top of my head, but I’m having the office forward Ken’s client files-perhaps there will be a red flag in there.”

  Moses sighed and continued to jot his notes.

  “It could also be to your advantage to speak with Johari about this. She could probably point you in a better direction far more quickly than a box of papers.”

  “Right,” Moses grunted, though he was in full agreement. He’d been thinking that very thing and didn’t look forward to the difficulty he’d have in trying to get her to cooperate.

  “So does this mean you’ll take the case?”

  Again, Moses sighed.

  “I might also point out that like myself and Floyd Reese, Johari has put as m
uch of herself into the business as we have. Hmph, maybe more. Especially since her part of the job keeps her away from family, friends…pretty much any sort of private life.”

  Moses didn’t know if he was pleased or discouraged by Tamlyn’s insight. Still, this was for Johari. Of course he’d do it. “I’m in,” he told the man.

  “I’ll have the files sent up ASAP,” Lucas was saying, clear relief etched in his voice.

  Once the call ended, Moses glimpsed his notes and debated. Would telling Jo about the past make it easier to work with her in finding Ken Shaw? Was that really why he was now contemplating telling her? No. It was still just as Daysia had said. He had to ask himself if he wanted to tell her in hopes of earning a spot back in her heart or simply because she deserved to know.

  Grimacing once more, Moses leaned back in the massive desk chair. His dark eyes narrowed in their tell-tale fashion and a moment later his decision was made. He grabbed his keys and left the office.

  ***

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t call right away to let you both know, I just-“

  “Baby shh…shh…” Kathy Frazier urged her daughter who’d been apologizing since she arrived at the hospital.

  George Frazier pressed a kiss to Johari’s temple. “You handled everything just fine. We know you were just as shocked by all this as we were.”

  Jo could only massage a shaking hand across the nape of her neck.

  “Mel told us the moment we arrived in Seattle. So all is well,” Kathy was saying.

  “Right, right, I knew Mel would handle it,” Jo absently murmured.

  Kathy exchanged a smile with her husband before squeezing her daughter’s arm. “Would you like to go in and see your sister now?”

  Laughing nervously, Jo realized she’d almost forgotten the girl/woman was just three doors down the hallway. Nodding at her parents, she turned and headed for the room.

  ~~~

  Johari held her breath when she finally stood before the door. Closing her eyes briefly, she leaned into it, feeling the cool wood give and move forward. There, in bed, she saw the sister she’d feared dead. The sister lost to her for almost two decades.