Gemini Lost

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I hated to ruin a great line, so I didn’t. I simply told Ramirez I would be in touch once I got back to Phoenix and he begrudgingly agreed before I disconnected.

It took a bit of sidestepping, apologizing and all-around awkward maneuvering to break away from Logan. On one hand, I assured him I understood the seriousness of Decker’s request and was committed to pursuing what she had entrusted me to. On the other, I was backhanding myself, as I knew the mention of Martin’s name would probably result in an entirely different commitment.

He was, after all, family.

So, as we raced back to Phoenix, no thanks to Leah’s lead foot, which became increasingly pronounced the more I whined, I allowed the other topic of dread to wash over me.

Ramirez.

Leah offered me none of her usual quips or proffered any advice, tugging at her hair as we drove much of the six hours from Los Angeles to Phoenix in solitude. She knew better than to intrude on my mental meanderings as of late, when my life had been crap from the moment I’d engaged in a battle to the death with Winslow Clark. And lived to tell about it. My reward was to have both Ramirez and Martin dump me the moment I came back to life, offering neither resolution nor absolution.

Let’s just say, it was a bitter pill to swallow. And perhaps, on the flip side, I’d become a bit of one myself.

Leah had none-to-gently pointed that out prior to the L.A. trip, which was part of the reason I’d agreed it was probably best for me to get out of town to clear my mind.

Well, that hadn’t turned out quite as planned.

As we crossed into Phoenix, I made a comment to that effect, only to have Leah volley one back, smugly reminding me about the scene she witnessed as she happened upon me with Logan on the beach.

I quickly reminded her that, after he was unable to locate me, Ramirez had elected to call her, causing her to inject herself into our afternoon out, which had solely been for the benefit of the dogs.

Right.

She’d rolled her eyes at that one.

Twice.

It wasn’t a good look. Think brain freeze played at double the speed.

I had yet to tell her about Decker’s request. I hadn’t had time to process it yet myself. It was a decades-old crime that hadn’t been solved by professionals. Why the heck would Decker place that burden on me?

I pushed my thoughts about Logan and Decker down as I contemplated the brief conversation I’d had with Ramirez, noting it had been almost accusatory.

I didn’t doubt that Martin was involved, but was incensed that Ramirez thought I had knowledge of Martin’s doings and was assisting him in some fashion.

The notion made my blood boil.

Men.

Idiots.

Both of them.

Ramirez, for being so bull-headed.

Martin, for being such a jackass.

How dare he insinuate himself into my life, only to bow out because I refused to give him what he wanted.

Yup. It all came down to the chips.

Damn them.

They were a constant source of anxiety. And pain.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard Leah. She finally had to nudge me to the point I’d have bruises for the next two weeks.

“What?” My tone came off a bit more snappish than I’d intended.

“Geez, AJ, sorry to barge into the inner sanctum but your phone is ringing. It’s Ramirez.” She nodded at my phone, illuminated by the face of Dirty Harry—a little joke that she had decided to play with my phone months earlier.

I snatched it from the dashboard and released a snarl of frustration before accepting the call. “Are you tracking me, Ramirez, or what? I told you I’d call you when I got back to Phoenix but that didn’t mean the second we’d entered the city limits.”

He didn’t respond though I could hear him breathing. I was about to impart a snide comment when Ramirez finally spoke.

“Actually, I was hoping to head you off before you made it all the way home. Can you meet me at the Starbucks at the Paradise Valley Mall?”

“Truth be told, I’m more of a Dutch Bros. Coffee type of gal these days—but then I guess you wouldn’t know that, considering you haven’t been around—”

“Huh, funny, me too,” he interjected. “Err…Dutch Bros. guy, that is. You’ll be happy to know they have one there, too, across from J.C. Penny, near Target, Costco and REI. Have Leah drop you there and I’ll bring you home afterward.”

He was about to hang up when I quickly added, “Why Paradise Valley?”

“It’s where Congressman Fenton lives.”

Without offering anything more, Ramirez disconnected.

I glanced at Leah. “What did you make of that?”

She shrugged. “Don’t ask me. At least he’s gotten on board with a better class of coffee.”

I snorted. I wished that he could get on board with the fact that Martin was not an influence on me nor had become ingrained in my life.

Leah dropped me in front of Dutch Bros. It was late, and while there were people sitting in the sparse outdoor area, Ramirez was not among them.

Just then, I heard someone calling my name and swiveled. Ramirez waved at me from behind the front seat of a massive jet-black Dodge Ram truck.

I sauntered over as he propped the passenger side door open, hopping on the step and jumping in.

“New ride,” I commented, assessing my surroundings while trying to avoid eye contact.

“Loaner, compliments of a drug house seizure.”

“Nice,” I shrugged, rubbing absently on the edge of the seat, noting the suppleness of the leather.

“AJ, I know this is not comfortable—”

“Not comfortable?” I snarked, my eyes flashing to him for the first time, sucking in a breath as I took him in again.

His silky waves had grown out but his green eyes were just as intense, as he sat casually in a maroon button-down shirt, jeans and boots.

Collecting my breath and my wits, I quickly added, “Why should this be…comfortable?”

Ramirez squinted and then nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you? Understand?” I replied through gritted teeth.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know,” Ramirez responded.

I refused to meet his eyes, so I couldn’t see what they revealed.

Perhaps I didn’t want to.

“No, of course it doesn’t. As long as I renounce my loyalties to Martin, whatever that entails, all will be cute puppies and rainbows. Isn’t that about right?”

Ramirez sighed. “At the end of the day, you can’t have it both ways, AJ.”

“So you’ve said before,” I replied. “But somehow, I never got to choose. You decided which way the wind blew…and out with it you went. Seems like you’re the one who wants to have it both ways.”

“Maybe,” Ramirez replied slowly, “when it comes to things of a personal nature. But this is business, AJ. Police business. And I can only protect you so much where Martin is concerned.”

“Protect me?” I asked, still working that piece of leather edging in an attempt not to face him. “Since when do I look like I need protection?”

“Let’s talk holdouts, AJ.”

“Excuse me?” This time I faced him and was surprised by what I saw.

Fear.

“You have something Martin wants, don’t you?” He spoke so slowly, I could have pulled the words from his mouth like taffy.

I open my mouth. Shut it. I hadn’t been prepared for the question. So few people knew about the chips—that I was the one who possessed them and the only one who knew where they were currently hidden.

Still unable to formulate the words necessary for a cohesive response, Ramirez took my silence as a cue to continue. “Leah told me you’d written him off and yet, you’re suppressing evidence that could help him in his quest—whatever that may entail.”

“That makes no sense. If Martin wants it and I’m keeping it from him, how could that be considered helping him?” I snorted.

“Because you’re still not sure of his intentions and in the wrong hands, the information could be dangerous but in the right hands, who knows? Maybe you still think you can protect him, even if it’s from himself.”

“I’m still not sure where you drummed this up or got the crazy idea I had something Martin wanted but I assure you—“

Ramirez raised a hand. “Don’t. The Congressman needs to speak with you. I simply wanted to prepare you for what he’s about to say so that you can compose yourself. Chances are, you won’t like it.”

“Spoken like a true politician. So what—now you’re serving as a mouthpiece for the Congressman?” I paused to catch my breath but was not interested in waiting for a response, as I continued my onslaught.

“Are you his heavy, too? Because, if this is a police vehicle and you’re threatening a potential witness, I don’t have a problem calling your superiors and telling them you’ve gone to the dark side and are using department property to facilitate crimes against humanity.”

“Spoken like Martin’s daughter,” Ramirez replied, mimicking words and my tone.

If he’d intended to jar me, he’d gotten the desired effect.

“Go to hell, Ramirez. This whole thing is bigger than you and your stupid ego. You have no idea how far this reaches and how many people will be impacted if this information were to get out.”

He smiled smugly. “No. But apparently you do.” Before I could toss out some colorfully-phrased adjectives, he added, “Buckle up. We don’t want to keep the Congressman waiting. He doesn’t like to wait.”

Inwardly, I seethed. Ramirez knew that I didn’t like to be kept waiting, either. One thing about the new and improved AJ that Ramirez didn’t know—I hated to be kept in the dark twice as much.