Secrets That Kill: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  He sighed and gave a rueful laugh. “I hope you don’t live to regret that.”

  “You mean I might die?”

  “No…I didn’t mean it like…you’re teasing me, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Mostly.” Ramos didn’t exactly know how to take that, so I covered it with a laugh. “You know, lots of times what we think could happen in any given situation is lots worse that what really does happen. So maybe talking to Fitch won’t be half as bad as you think it will be.”

  “Um…actually I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, and I think it is bad.” At my crestfallen expression he continued. “Although you could be right.”

  “Might as well find out,” I said. “What have you got to lose? You already feel bad enough as it is, it probably couldn’t get any worse, right?”

  Ramos just grunted and opened the car door. He waited for me to join him, thinking that sometimes it wasn’t easy being around me. He didn’t like that I was picking up on his feelings and starting to sound like his conscience. He didn’t need anyone telling him what he should or shouldn’t do.

  I refrained from pointing out that I could hear him. Mostly because underlying all those thoughts, he was thinking that having feelings made him weak. He had to stay cold and calculating, otherwise he could make a mistake, and that was unacceptable.

  Joe’s Island Bar had a full-sized bar surrounded with plenty of tables and chairs. It had a Caribbean flair with a thatched roof over the bar and lots of potted plants and flowers. Somehow Fitch had beaten us there and eagerly raised his arm to get our attention. Ramos scanned the few people in the restaurant and those sitting at the bar, taking note of anyone whom he thought could be a potential threat. Finding things to his liking, he motioned me toward the corner table where Fitch sat.

  A waiter stopped by to get our order and soon left, leaving us alone to talk. Fitch’s nerves were ready to snap, and he was thinking he hoped he’d done the right thing in talking to Ramos. He knew the guy in the morgue was linked to Carson and whatever had gone down at the restaurant. Now with Ramos here, and my proximity to Warren’s murder and subsequent connection to the guy in the morgue, it looked like we were both involved. He also wondered what kind of life Ramos had led for the past fifteen years and hoped he wasn’t involved in anything illegal.

  “I can’t believe you’re here in Orlando,” Fitch said. “I always wondered what happened to you after that night.” From his thoughts, I caught a quick flash of a much younger Ramos with a gun in his hand standing over the body of another man, whose eyes were open and glassy in death.

  I caught my breath and Ramos glanced at me, his brows drawn together. He turned his attention back to Fitch and replied, “You let me go. I always wondered about that.”

  “It’s in the past. It doesn’t matter now,” Fitch said, thinking it was his fault Ramos had killed BJ. He couldn’t change what had happened then. It was time to focus on the present and what kind of person Ramos was now. “What have you been doing since then?”

  Ramos shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m a security specialist.”

  Fitch’s brows drew together. Usually when someone said that it meant he was ex-military and used his skills as some type of bodyguard or hired gun. “You ever work for the government?”

  “No. My contracts are all private.”

  The muscles around Fitch’s eyes tightened. He was thinking this didn’t sound so good, and it gave him a bad feeling. “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Maybe,” Ramos said, thinking he didn’t like where all this questioning was headed. Why did Fitch want to know about the kind of life he lived now? Why would he care? “What did you want to tell me?”

  Fitch was beginning to regret his decision to involve Ramos. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he didn’t think he’d ever have another chance to make things right. “I think this case might have some bearing on what happened to you fifteen years ago when your brother was shot.”

  “My brother?” Ramos tried to keep his cool, but I caught that inside he felt a swirling mass of regret, guilt, and a small kernel of hope. Fitch hadn’t said Javier was killed…only shot. Did that mean he might still be alive? “What happened after I left?”

  Fitch cringed and took a deep breath. He had to play this right. There was too much riding on this to make a mistake now. “I told you.”

  Ramos dropped his head and closed his eyes. Without looking up he spoke. “You told me you thought he was dead.” He met Fitch’s gaze. “Is he?”

  Fitch looked away, this was it, but it was too soon. He didn’t know enough about Ramos to trust him with the truth. “I’m sorry, Ramos. He didn’t make it.” He was lying. Ramos had a brother and he was alive. This was huge. It took all of my concentration to keep from reacting. Fitch hated lying to Ramos, but he had to know Javier would be safe…even from his own brother. He’d worked too hard to protect him.

  “But there is something I can tell you.” He held up both hands like he was surrendering. “I don’t want to know anything about why you’re here. I’m just passing along some information.” He waited for Ramos to acknowledge this before he continued.

  “All those years ago, you were helping me with my investigation, and I let you down. I feel responsible for what happened to you and Javier. But BJ wasn’t the one behind the whole thing like we thought. He was reporting to someone else and just following orders. The guy behind it all had a source in the police department. That’s how they knew you were helping me. That night was a set-up.”

  “Wait a minute,” Ramos said, trying to understand. “Everything pointed to BJ, and now you’re telling me he wasn’t behind it?”

  “That’s right,” Fitch said. “Think about it. There was no way he could have known you were working with me. Unless someone told him.”

  “Then who was behind it?”

  “Carson,” Fitch said. “I’ve been trying to nail him for years, but I’ve never been able to do it. We know the guy with the snake tattoos is his man, and that he’s somehow involved in all this, but we can’t prove anything. I was hoping if you knew anything about Carson you would help me. I want to bring Carson down for everything he’s done.”

  Ramos was reeling from the fact that Carson was the reason his brother was dead. He glanced at Fitch. “You’re asking for my help?”

  “Yes,” Fitch said.

  Ramos shook his head. If he wouldn’t have helped Fitch the first time, his brother might still be alive. He should have done things his own way. “Things have changed. I don’t think you’d like the way I help.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Let’s just say that sometimes there’s a better way to bring about justice. I don’t exactly trust the court system or the cops. You can understand why.”

  Fitch swallowed his dread. Did Ramos have something to do with the murder last night? Had Ramos killed Carson’s man? This hadn’t gone how he’d hoped, and he should have kept his mouth shut. Had he just opened a can of worms here? “Yes I understand, but I can’t look the other way if something happens to Carson. I won’t let you go again.”

  Ramos’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. “If something happens to Carson, it won’t be me. I’ve learned a few things over the years. I don’t get caught. Thanks for the tip. If I find out anything that will help you, I’ll let you know.”

  Fitch knew he’d lost. Ramos had that same cold, hard look in his eyes Fitch remembered seeing just after Ramos had killed BJ. That day had changed Ramos’ life forever. That’s why he’d hoped telling him about Javier could somehow make up for it. But now? How could he put Javier in danger with Ramos mixed up in who knew what? It would make Javier a target all over again. He couldn’t do it, at least not now.

  “Shelby,” Fitch glanced at me, hoping maybe I could give him something. “Is there anything you know that you haven’t told me? Do you have any idea why they were after Warren Pearce?”

  “Sorry,” I said, shrugging. Ramos was practically y
elling in his mind for me not to say anything. I couldn’t help thinking about the thumb-drive and how it probably had all the evidence on it Fitch would need to take Carson down. How hard would it be to give it to him? Of course, it also might have something bad on it about Uncle Joey.

  Fitch stood and pulled out a business card. Ignoring Ramos, he handed it to me, knowing I was more reasonable and likely to talk. “If you think of anything, please give me a call.”

  “Sure,” I said, taking the card.

  Fitch glanced at Ramos, regret in his eyes. “Ramos.”

  “Fitch,” Ramos said. They locked gazes, and I was surprised to feel a measure of regret coming from both of them.

  Without another word, Fitch turned on his heel. Ramos watched his progress out of the bar until he lost sight of him on the busy street. He turned his attention to me, his eyes raised in a question.

  I wasn’t ready to tell him about his brother. Not when Fitch had wanted to, but didn’t. I needed to know what had happened first. This was a secret that had far too many implications to reveal lightly. Ramos deserved to know his brother was alive, but would it do more damage than good? How was I supposed to know? It put me in a terrible spot.

  Ramos was already thinking of how to exact revenge on Carson. He didn’t care if Carson was one of Manetto’s associates. Once he told Manetto what he wanted, he was sure Manetto would agree with him.

  “Ramos?” I asked. “Can you tell me the story now? I’d like to know what happened.”

  “I guess,” he said, annoyed. “I’m sure you picked up quite a bit.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “And if you want my help with this, it’s something I deserve to know.” He’d already been thinking how valuable my help would be, but wasn’t so sure I would agree to it.

  “All right,” he gave in. “I’ll tell you, but not here.” He signaled the waiter and settled the bill. As we left the bar and walked to the car, he continued. “Since I’m re-visiting the past, we might as well drive by the old neighborhood.”

  Several miles later, Ramos turned into a small run-down neighborhood with shabby houses and brick buildings. Ramos slowed as we passed one house and said casually, “I used to live there.” He was thinking not much had changed in the old neighborhood, but it didn’t bother him like he thought it might. With both his mother and Javier gone, it was like it had been someone else, and not him, who’d lived there.

  We continued down the street, passing a small park with several children playing on a playground. “I remember that place,” he said, thinking the equipment was much nicer now. We came to a business district with shops and gas stations, and Ramos pulled to the curb across the street from a garage with a sign above it that read “Rodolfo and Sons Full-Service Garage.”

  “It’s still there…” Ramos couldn’t believe this place had survived all these years. “I used to work there. Of course, it was called BJ’s Garage back then.” His thoughts returned to how it looked before, with the chop shop hidden in back, and all the junk cars and parts lying around the yard.

  “It’s why I have such an appreciation for nice cars.” He glanced at me, a smile on his face. “I used to steal them, and we’d fix them up in the chop shop or take them apart to sell. I started working there when I was fifteen.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was good for a while. My friend and I stole a lot of cars. BJ taught us everything. He was like a father to us. Besides stealing, we played a lot of poker. That’s how I got my name, Ace. BJ stands for Blackjack, and my friend was Spade. There was a crew of about ten of us back then. We were tight, and BJ ran a smooth operation.

  “Just after I turned seventeen, I met a girl at school. I didn’t apply myself much in school, but I wasn’t ready to drop out. I liked learning things. Lisandra was new, and thought I was hot stuff, but she was also a good girl. I told her to leave me alone, that I was no good for her, but she wouldn’t do it.” Ramos clenched the steering wheel as the familiar pain flooded over him.

  “She looked at me and saw something no one else did.” He shook his head, still amazed that she hadn’t thought he was a lost cause. “She told me I was smart, and I could go to college and do something with my life…be somebody. Because of her, I did better in school, and the summer before our senior year, she spent all of her free time helping me get ready for the college entrance exams.

  “I kept working for BJ, but Lisandra wanted me to stop. I cut back as much as I could, but BJ and the others put a lot of pressure on me, so I kept doing jobs for them, just not as many. I told BJ I was quitting, and he said he was fine with it, as long as I did one more job for him. I should have been suspicious, but I trusted him. He said he understood that I wanted a better life.”

  Ramos hit the steering wheel with his palms. “Can you believe that? I was so stupid back then, because I believed his lies. I thought he cared about me.” Ramos let out a deep breath and pursed his lips to get under control.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “BJ always found the cars for us to steal, and this time was no different. But it turned out the car I stole belonged to a rival gang member. We returned the car, but things got dirty between us for a while.

  “It was a few days after this that Lisandra came to see me. I’d told her never to come to the garage, but my test scores were back, and she was so excited to show them to me that she couldn’t wait. That’s what I thought at first, but later I found out she’d called the garage, and BJ had told her to come and surprise me. She was just outside the garage when it happened.” Ramos took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Anger burned in his chest, and he took a second to get under control.

  “Just at that moment, the rival gang drove by and spotted her. I was standing inside the garage right by that window when I noticed the car slow down. It didn’t make sense until I caught sight of Lisandra running toward the garage. As I ran to the door, I heard two gunshots and the car peeling out. When I reached her, she was lying in a pool of blood. One bullet went through her neck and another hit her in the back. She didn’t have a chance. She bled out and died right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

  From his mind I watched the whole thing as he remembered it. I saw him gather her in his arms, and the anguish and pain seeping from this memory was so raw that I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. Saying I was sorry seemed so inadequate. “She was beautiful.”

  He glanced at me in surprise, stunned to realize I’d seen her in his mind. It lessened the pain to know I understood exactly what he felt, and he nodded in agreement. “Yes she was.”

  After taking a deep breath, he continued. “Fitch was one of the first cops to arrive. He was assigned to the gangs back then and took an interest in me. Mostly because he knew I would want revenge against the gang that did this, and he wanted me to work with him instead. Of course, I wasn’t about to cooperate, or tell him what had happened, but everything changed later, when I overheard BJ thanking someone on the phone for taking the bitch out. I wanted to kill BJ right then, but something held me back. It was like Lisandra was there, telling me to do the right thing.

  “I called Fitch and told him I’d do whatever he needed to take BJ and his whole operation down. Fitch was ecstatic and eager to use me any way he could. I dropped out of school, and for two months, worked my way into BJ’s trust, so I could learn more about how he did things. I was able to give Fitch information about the cars: who we sold them to, and where they came from…everything I could find out.

  “Things were going great for the first little while, but then BJ started taking an interest in my little brother. I told Javier to stay away from the shop, but BJ started giving him money for running errands and doing odd jobs. Javier was only twelve and wouldn’t listen to me. He said that if I was at the shop, then it was all right for him to be there too.

  “I kept him away as much as I could, but BJ acted like he was doing me such a favor that I didn’t want him to get suspicious about me. It was
hard enough to act like his friend when all I wanted to do was kill him, so I let it go, thinking that BJ was going down and soon enough it wouldn’t matter anymore.

  “Fitch told me he was close to putting all the pieces together and was just about ready to make some arrests. The day before the arrests were to happen, BJ asked me to meet with him at the shop. It wasn’t unusual, but I was uneasy about it, so I called Fitch. He didn’t think there was anything to worry about, but decided to put a wire on me and listen from a car as backup in case I got in trouble.

  “When I got there, BJ talked to me about a delivery he wanted me to make the next morning, but he seemed distracted. When I turned to leave, he pulled a gun on me. He was furious and told me he knew all about my betrayal, even after he’d trusted me with everything he had. He couldn’t believe I would turn on him after everything he’d done for me. So I told him he’d made a big mistake when he’d had Lisandra killed, and he deserved a lot worse than being caught by the cops.

  “He raised his gun to shoot me, when Javier shouted out and rushed at him. He’d been there helping BJ, and I didn’t know. BJ fired his gun, hitting Javier in the chest.” Ramos closed his eyes in pain and remorse. He took a few deep breaths and softly continued his story.

  “Enraged, I tackled BJ. His gun went flying and we fought. I gained the upper hand and pounded on him until someone pulled me off. It was Fitch. I stood there, stunned by what had happened. Fitch ran to check on Javier and I hurried to kneel beside them. When I asked Fitch how he was, he told me he didn’t think Javier was going to make it and called for the paramedics.

  “By then, BJ was groaning, but I didn’t care anymore. I picked up his gun and stared him in the eyes while I put a couple of bullets in him. Fitch yelled at me to stop, but it was too late. BJ was dead, and I’d killed him. I’ll never forget the look in Fitch’s eyes, like he was disappointed in me and that I’d ruined everything. With sirens in the background, I thought he would arrest me, but instead, he told me to drop the gun and get out of there. He said that he didn’t ever want to see me again. That’s the last time I saw him, until today.”