The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  County sighed and silently agreed with her friend’s summation. Weight of the world was a perfect description. “Well sweetie, maybe you could both use the time away.”

  “I won’t argue there,” Mick said, fixing the phone in the crook of her neck and then drawing up the sleeves of her black cotton sweater. “I’ve been edgy as hell since Houston and Daphne died.”

  “Well it was a very upsetting time inside that courtroom.”

  Mick agreed, stooping to load the mugs and silverware to the coffee tray. Silently however, Mick acknowledged that she was thinking about what happened outside the courtroom and the woman she’d seen speaking with…Suddenly, her expression cleared. “Johnelle and Josephine,” she whispered.

  “What?” County called, having misunderstood. “Mick?”

  “Um County listen, I’ll have to call you back alright?” Mick was saying and blew a kiss through the phone seconds before she ended the connection.

  “Mick? Mick? Dammit…” County hissed when the dial tone rose in her ear. She hadn’t even gotten around to why she’d called but decided news about the book could definitely wait till after Mick returned from her trip.

  ~CHAPTER TWO~

  Quest and Quaysar were shaking hands with members of their construction crew at the conclusion of their meeting. The soft soothing rumble of male laughter filtered along the corridor from the first floor conference room where the meeting had been held. In spite of having the ‘weight of the world’ on his shoulders, Quest felt surprisingly at ease during the meeting. Quay had pretty much commanded the agenda with a patience Quest never knew his twin possessed. As a result, Quest spent majority of the meeting an observer which provided a few stolen moments of mental relaxation.

  Jasmine Hughes watched her bosses say goodbye to the last of the meeting attendants before she attempted to grab a moment of their time. She waved a stack of envelopes in their direction and smiled when she caught Quest’s eye.

  “Got your mail. You guys wanna take it now or should I put it up in the office?” She asked.

  Quay sat on the corner of Jasmine’s organized desk and shuffled the envelopes she’d handed him. “Office is fine for me Jazz. I’ll probably get around to opening all this sometime this week.” He teased.

  Jasmine only shook her head. “Quest?” She inquired of Quay’s mirror image.

  “I’ll take it with me,” he said focused on checking the missed calls on his cell. “Leave it on your desk and I’ll grab it all on my way out the door.”

  “Sounds good,” Jazz sighed and set the small box and stack of envelopes bearing Quest’s name to the edge of her desk. “I’m gonna grab another cup of tea,” she decided reaching for her mug and then flashing Quest an adoring smile. “You and Mick have a good, safe trip alright?” she urged.

  “Thanks J,” Quest said easing the phone into his trouser pocket while brushing a kiss across Jasmine’s cheek.

  “I’m proud of you man,” Quay said slapping a hand to his brother’s back once they were alone in the lobby of the gorgeous high-rise office building. “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d up and take a spontaneous minute to play with your luscious wife.”

  Quest grinned. “Thanks. I’m guessing there was a compliment in their somewhere.”

  Quay shrugged. “Of course.”

  “Mmm,” Quest murmured, the drawn look returning to his striking dark face. “Anyway, this isn’t all play. You sure you’re gonna be alright runnin’ things on your own?”

  “Please Q, this is me remember?”

  “Mmm hmm. Let’s try this again. Are you sure you’re gonna be able to handle this on your own?”

  “Funny. Very sure. Besides, I need something to keep my mind off that funeral.”

  “That’s right,” Quest sighed, recalling that his brother and sister-in-law had just returned from Lena Robinson’s funeral. The woman had lost her battle with cancer. “How was that?” He asked.

  “Sad.”

  “How’s Wake?”

  “Devastated. You know how close he was to his mom. But I think the fact that she didn’t suffer long with it made it easier for him to deal…”

  “Did he see the guys?”

  Quay thought of his adopted twin sons Dakari and Dinari. “Yeah.”

  “He having any regrets about letting you and Ty have them?”

  “Doesn’t seem to be. Told me losing Ms. Lena would’ve killed him had he not known his sons were being given a good life with a real family.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “One of the best.”

  Quest slanted his twin a meaningful look then. “As for this trip, there’s also business to be handled out in Vegas.” He shared while taking a seat in Jasmine’s chair.

  “Ah Vegas,” Quay noted folding his arms across the front of his tan shirt.

  Quest massaged the bridge of his nose. “Vegas…and I’m not looking forward to even one day with Aunt George and Michaela in the same room.”

  Quay laughed. “I don’t envy you brotha. Still,” he sighed, “I think whatever’s goin’ on out there with Sabra deserves to be checked out.”

  “Anytime I hear the name Tesano it deserves to be checked out.” Quest said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs at the ankles.

  Quay’s charcoal stare narrowed suddenly. “I gotta tell you I’m impressed Q. I wasn’t sure you’d feel that way considering it might put you on the outs with your frat bruh,” he drawled.

  “When are you gonna get over being jealous of the guy?” Quest teased.

  Quay shrugged. “When you stop being my brother.”

  “Uh, uh, don’t put me in this. Remember it was your temper that kept you from pledging.”

  “And I thank God everyday for that.”

  Quest shook his head at Quay even as he thought of Isak ‘Pike’ Tesano. “Sabra’s family,” he said in response to Quay’s probing stare. “Female family. The fact that Smoak Tesano might be involved makes it worth checking out.”

  Quay turned on Jasmine’s desk and faced Quest more freely. “You think any of what Nile told Taurus might be connected?”

  “I hope not,” Quest groaned and began to massage his eyes again. “I’m praying we’re due for some positive press right about now.”

  “You’re forgetting we had positive press for quite a while before all our uncles’ dirty secrets hit the fan.” Quay smirked. “Maybe we’re in line for more scandal.”

  “Hell man, in line for how much?” Quest inquired with a laugh. Silently however, he accepted the fact that all the ugly new pieces that had drifted in as of late could very well be connected. If they were, what would that do to his family, to his female cousins who had all loved and lost men in the Tesano family?

  Quay took note of the emotion drifting across his brother’s face and leaned over to nudge his arm. “Didn’t mean to bring you down,” He apologized softly.

  Quest propped his chin to his fist. “That’s not it. I’m just ready to get the hell out of town.”

  “You sure you’re up to handling that feisty wife of yours?” Quay began to tease though a ripple of concern lay just below the surface of his words. “I never seen you looking quite this run down Q,” he noted when Quest glanced up at him.

  “You and your imagination,” Quest offered a half-hearted tease.

  “I’m serious Q. Is everything alright-really?”

  Quest shook his head finally, knowing it was pointless to hide it any longer. Especially from Quay. “Cufi Muhammad’s wife- Yvonne Wilson. Her name is really Evette Sellars and she’s my wife’s mother.”

  For the first time in his life, Quaysar Ramsey was truly speechless.

  ***

  Mick sat drumming her fingers to the desk while the dial tones buzzed in her ear. She’d tried to reach Josephine first and had been told that the woman spent little time at home unless Crane Cannon was with her.

  Good for her, Michaela thought knowing the woman deserved happiness after the life she
’d lived with Marcus Ramsey. Still, it didn’t stop Mick from feeling agitated over not being able to speak with her. Next, she was dialing Johnelle Black’s line with fast and furious fingers. The lines connected after four rings and Johnelle answered sounding thrilled to hear from her friend.

  “That man of yours sure knows how to take a vacation.” Johnelle marveled once Mick told her about the upcoming trip. “Sure you’re gonna want to come back after three weeks?” She jibed.

  ‘I’d better be.” Mick groaned. “Packing for three weeks is no joke. I don’t think I can muster strength to pack for longer.” She admitted, joining in when Johnelle laughed.

  “Well I’m glad you took time out to call and let me know what was going on with you two.”

  Slowly, Mick’s easiness turned a bit more serious. “Actually um, I wanted to talk about what happened the day Houston and Daphne Ramsey died.”

  Silence.

  “At the courthouse, you remember?”

  “Yes. Yes, yes Michaela-who could forget that? But…why are you thinking about that and now of all times?”

  The change in Johnelle’s voice was quite noticeable but Mick made nothing of it. After all, it had been quite a while back.

  “Just that something about it all has been nagging at me and-”

  “Well can’t you put it out of your mind?”

  “No. No Johnelle I can’t. I keep wondering about it and until I have some answers…”

  “Well did you call to ask if I think you should look into it? Because I’ll tell you now that I think you should let it go.”

  Mick smiled and began to pull at one of her curls while pacing her home office. “I called to ask about the woman I saw you and Josephine talking to.”

  “A woman?”

  “Mmm hmm-after the two of you argued…I came to check on you and saw you and Johnelle down the hall. There was a woman talking to you and-”

  “Michaela my goodness, it was a crazy day, you know? How would I remember all those people?”

  “Only one person,” Mick said, growing intrigued by the sharp tone in Johnelle’s voice then. “Aside from you and Josephine, there was only one other person. Who was she?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Mick…all I remember was some court clerk who stopped to ask about Marc’s disappearance.” Johnelle blurted the first lie she could compose. How could she explain that she and Josephine Ramsey had worked with Cufi Muhammad’s wife to arrange a little…vacation for that bastard Marcus?

  “A clerk?” Mick breathed, rapping her knuckles against her chin while her quick brain did the calculations. “I don’t see how she could’ve been a clerk. Why would a court clerk ask civilians about such a matter?

  “I don’t know Mick, maybe it’s because Josephine’s his wife. Anyway, that’s who she said she was.”

  Mick paid no heed to Johnelle’s obvious unease then. Instead, she was thinking perhaps Johnelle and Josephine had unknowingly spoken with someone involved with Marc’s disappearance.

  “Mick? Are you there?”

  Realizing she’d zoned out, Mick laughed and cleared her throat. “Yes, yeah Johnelle I-”

  “Listen if there’s nothing else, I really do need to get going now.”

  “Sure. Sure yes and I’m sorry I sprung this on you. I’ve been so turned around lately- I’m sorry…”

  “It’s fine sweetie.” Johnelle soothed, her voice taking on a mothering tone. “You take advantage of this time away with your husband. Get some rest and stop thinking of such gruesome things.”

  “Right,” Mick’s tone was absent while she brushed her thumbnail across the mole situated above her mouth.

  “We’ll talk when you get back, alright? Goodbye honey.”

  The phone buzzing in Mick’s ear barely registered. Johnelle’s supposed court clerk could’ve easily been an accomplice in Marc’s disappearance, she thought. Unfortunately, accepting that as fact only made her more unsettled for the woman speaking to Johnelle and Josephine bore a striking resemblance to her mother.

  ***

  Far Rockaway, NY

  Brogue Tesano smiled, his handsome face was a picture of pure delight as he savored a long drag from the cigar he held. In spite of the delicious flavor of his specially blended vice, agitation rumbled in the pit of Brogue’s stomach while he sat in the office of his right hand man, Frank Deeks. Brogue disliked having to track down his own employees especially an employee who was to be by his side at a moment’s notice.

  Taking another drag, Brogue expelled the smoke slowly and studied the elaborate swirling pattern it cast upon leaving his mouth. Again, his potent blue stare studied the closed office door. There had better be an excellent explanation for his being kept waiting.

  Unfortunately, Frank Deeks hadn’t returned from the job he’d been sent to handle in Seattle. Having to learn of Cufi Muhammad’s death via news link, put a bad taste in Brogue’s mouth. Still, the news reported nothing of Cufi’s dearly beloved. Heaven help Frank if Yvonne Wilson was in police custody, Brogue raged silently and allowed ashes from the cigar to sprinkle across the papers littering the desk.

  The cherry wood office door opened then and Frank Deeks entered looking rushed and weary.

  “Forgive me B; I’ve been putting out one fire after another since I got back here.” He huffed.

  “They must be pretty destructive fires for me not to have already received a report on the Seattle trip.” Brogue noted in that quiet cool way of his that unnerved far more than it settled. “Don’t bother mentioning Cufi,” he said just as Frank opened his mouth. “I know he’s out of the picture.” He moved out of the chair to perch on the edge of the desk. “I don’t appreciate having to run down my own people Frank. Makes a man nervous, you know?”

  Frank nodded and clenched a fist to keep from rubbing a clammy hand across the front of his wrinkled beige shirt. He knew from firsthand knowledge that when Brogue Tesano got ‘nervous’ people got dead.

  “Everything happened so fast B,” Frank shuffled into the office as he spoke carefully. “After the fiasco at the hotel, I continued my tail on Nile Becquois-hoping to run up on another time when I could catch her alone. The Ramseys had her covered and with a shit load of protection.” Frank smoothed a hand across the stubble darkening his pale face. “I think they were more interested in snaggin’ Muhammad than me and then Yvonne showed up, pulled that gun…”

  “Tell me about Yvonne,” Brogue requested, unbuttoning the caramel suit coat that flattered his lean frame. “I’m guessing it’s safe to say she didn’t meet the same fate as her husband.”

  “She um, she’s in police custody.” Frank confirmed and went cold all over. The look that flashed in Brogue’s gaze stifled further explanation.

  “This is not good news for you Frank.” Brogue promised, following several moments of silence. “Not good news for you…or me.” He stood and used Frank’s desk to douse the rest of the cigar. “If you want somethin’ done right…” he murmured.

  Brogue checked his trouser pockets for keys and had almost cleared the room door when he looked back at Frank. “Don’t go far and don’t think for a second that I won’t find you if you do. Although running will make it much harder on you than it already is.”

  ***

  Quest and Quay had taken their conversation to the parking deck outside Ramsey. Quay had regained the bulk of his speaking abilities but still had trouble fully participating in the conversation. Once Quest finished the story and included how their cousin Taurus’s new wife and Mick were at the center of it, Quay remained silent for at least five additional minutes to absorb it all.

  Quest stood leaning against the driver’s side of his Escalade, arms folded across the crisp ice blue shirt he wore. Patiently, he enjoyed the chill setting into the September afternoon and waited for his brother to ask the question he knew was on the tip of his tongue.

  Quay was indeed turning to ask the very question his twin had anticipated. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to get the word
s out of his mouth.

  “I’m not telling her.” Quest answered anyway.

  Quay’s sleek brows drew close. “What?” He whispered blinking at his brother’s set expression. “Man that’s crazy!” He raged, and closed the distance between them. “You can’t keep this from her.”

  “Can’t I?”

  ‘Q, this is her mother.”

  “Correction-the bitch gave birth to her but she was never a mother to her.” Quest seemed to hiss the words as he pushed out of his leaning stance against the truck. “She saved her mothering skills for Nile, remember?”

  Again, Quay blinked, a healthy dose of realization surging through him. He knew his brother’s temper was at that dangerous point that made his moods so unsettling.

  “Alright look I…I agree with your perspective on this,” Quay began trying to choose his words carefully, “but Q, Mick’s wanted answers about her mother for a long time. You’re crazy if you think she’ll let Moses or anybody else stall her.”

  “Nobody’s going to go against me on this.” Quest stated simply and with an unending supply of confidence. His eyes narrowed and he cupped his brother’s cheek. “I expect that group to include you.” He warned.

  “I won’t step into this.” Quay promised, feeling his own temper simmer at his twin’s pigheadedness. “But you best remember Mick wasn’t an investigative journalist for nothin’. She’ll start with the minutest piece of information and she’ll pound at it until it gives her more to go on.” He sighed when Quest stepped back and appeared thoughtful. “Either way Q, she’s gonna get to the bottom of this. Now it’s up to you to decide if she’ll be alone when she takes the blow this’ll deal her or if she’ll have her husband there to lean on.”

  Quest struggled not to allow it, but he couldn’t ignore the valid points in Quay’s argument. Hell, he’d gone over those points a million and one times in his head before accepting the decision that it was best not to tell her.

  Quay studied the emotions playing across Quest’s face and gave him room to think. He’d noticed Quest massaging his left arm-the frat brand that only ached when he was frustrated. Quay knew it wouldn’t be long…