Gemini Lost

Chapter 1

Chapter One

As luck would have it, my mouth was working about as well as my two left feet as I tripped, biting my tongue as Logan sidestepped, gripping my elbow as I huffed out my thanks.

He would have gotten a better reaction if he’d stripped down to his skivvies and danced the Cabbage Patch.

He’d landed a whopper on me. Wait—make that two. The first came in the form of Kelly Decker haunting me from beyond the grave, holding me solely accountable for bringing her mother’s killer to justice.

Whopper numero dos, minus pickles, catsup and all the other tasty stuff, came in the form of the name of her mother’s killer—who just happened to be the father of a friend and the soon to be father-in-law of another. And, did I mention, said killer happened to be a fairly…notorious Los Angeles criminal defense attorney?

A return trip to the Valley of the Sun was looking better by the minute.

Fortunately, Leah precluded any ill-timed responses from escaping my piehole as she raced up the beach, smartphone in hand.

Apparently, it’s a difficult feat when you’re chewing gum.

Let’s just say, it didn’t bode well for her. She was within inches of us when she toppled and the phone thwacked Logan in the shin as she face-planted in the sand.

I was sensing a theme here.

As she peered up at us, not in the least bit apologetic about encroaching upon whatever conversation we’d been engaged in, her expression turned sour. Before we could react, she spit out the fluorescent purple wad of chewing gum she’d managed to secure in her downfall.

“Sand,” she growled—as if it warranted an explanation.

Noting our expressions—Logan’s was confused, mine was more…constricted…she quickly added, “Ramirez needs you…pronto.” She jabbed a finger at the phone, which had landed beyond her reach after she’d likely given Logan a nice knot.

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” I replied between gritted teeth. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Leah snorted. “Yeah, told him it was possible that you were tied up playing tonsil tennis with Chippy here but he was insistent.”

Logan had the good graces to keep quiet, though he was somewhere between amused and appalled. My cheeks grew warm and all I wanted to do was smush that gum—sand-coated or not—back into her mouth, along with the smartphone.

I was about ready to execute that fabulous idea when Leah quickly added, “By the way, he said if you balked, to tell you that your father just ambushed one of our state’s congressmen.”

Logan turned to me, his brow furrowed. “I thought Decker said your parents had been murdered—err…had recently passed.”

Leah waved a hand, gave me an apologetic shrug and then proceeded to toss another gallon of accelerant on top of the heap.

“Sorry, I was referencing Martin, her bio pop. Ha, pop…fitting, considering how he tends to flit in and out of things at the most inopportune moments.” She glanced at me before adding, “He’s been a bit of a nuisance lately.”

Nuisance didn’t even begin to cover the way Martin—or Ramirez, for that matter—had gotten into my craw as of late. It did spur me to redact my previous sentiment. Rather than return to Phoenix, I was starting to embrace the idea of joining Leah on the ground and burying my head in the sand, especially when I reached for the phone and noticed we’d been on speakerphone the entire time.

After shooting her my best evil eye, I disabled the speaker-mode and moved out of earshot of Logan and Leah before growling into the phone, “This isn’t a good time. What do you want?”

“Such a pleasure talking to you, too, AJ. But this isn’t a social chat.” Ramirez’s voice rumbled over the line.

Despite the weeks that had passed since we had last spoken, I noted that there was no love lost given the virtual icicles pegging me in the ear.

No more love lost, anyway.

“Congrats. You’ve moved up in the world.” I worked hard to keep the snark out of my tone, but I’ll admit it was a challenge.

“Excuse me?” came the response.

“Last time we…talked, you were a homicide detective. So unless someone’s died, why are you calling me?”

There was an awkward pause.

“Hello? You called me, Ramirez. Spit it out. Like I said, it’s not a good time.”

“I was asked to contact you on the Congressman’s behalf. Because of our previous…association…”

Association? I couldn’t help but snort. “I think you’ve also had some sort of ‘association’ with his wife, if memory serves.”

Another moment of silence ensued from the other end.

Just as I was about to hang up, he finally managed to ground out, “It was actually Serena’s suggestion that we get you involved.”

“We? Oh, my, my, my, how things have changed. Do tell—how I can help? And, just for the record, I can hardly wait to hear how Martin Singer plays into this fantasy.”

“As Leah mentioned, the Congressman was ambushed when he got into his car. The assailant was waiting for him in the back seat.”

“Oooh, what sharp little ears you have…glad you managed to confirm all of that, despite the fact her mouth was filled with sand,” I replied, pausing to huff out a breath. “Still doesn’t explain why anyone in your little band of do-gooders would claim Martin was involved.”

“I didn’t say any of us claimed he was involved. It’s a possible conclusion I drew from the conversation the assailant had with the Congressman.” Ramirez’s nasty tone grated on my eardrum. Apparently, the detective was as short on patience as I was.

It served him right and I said as much.

“Good for you, you got your man. Go ahead and post a gold star on your fridge. But next time, leave me the hell out it,” I snapped and was about to hang up when the naughty little AJ on my shoulder prompted me to add, “For future reference, Detective—whatever Martin Singer is involved in, fictional or not, has no bearing on me, as I’ve not laid eyes on the man in weeks. And while this little convo has been amusing, I really need to get back—”

“Wait, AJ—the Congressman asked for you.” Ramirez’s tone was urgent but it only exasperated me that much more.

I was, for lack of better phrasing…in a mood.

“Because you told him about my connection with Martin.” I posed no question, though the sarcasm I leveled on him was thick and my index finger was still itching to press “End” on this ridiculous, intrusive conversation.

“No,” I heard an audible sigh before he continued, “because when the assailant left the Congressman, he dropped a business card.” He paused and if sensing my hand gesture, added, “It was yours.”