Secrets That Kill: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  “They arrested me and Shelby. But instead of taking us to the precinct, they let me go and took Shelby to Carson’s house as a hostage.”

  Fitch glanced at me for confirmation and I nodded. “So these guys are working for Carson?”

  “Looks that way,” Ramos answered. “Maybe that’s why you were never able to pin anything on him all these years.”

  Fitch glanced down at the table and sighed. He was thinking that it made sense, but he hoped it wasn’t anyone from his precinct. If so, that meant he knew them and worked with them every day. This was bad. A cop on the take was every precinct’s nightmare. But he had no reason to doubt Ramos, so it had to be true.

  “Okay,” Fitch said. “Besides their names, do you have anything on them?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, just that they’re working for Carson. Your best bet of catching them would be tying them to a money trail from Carson.”

  “But I can’t touch Carson without probable cause,” Fitch said.

  “Carson might not be a problem anymore,” Ramos said.

  Fitch jerked his gaze to Ramos before glancing at me. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Did you…”

  “Do you want a name?” Ramos interrupted.

  Fitch sighed. He knew what Ramos was asking. He came to a decision. If Carson was dead, he more than deserved it. Besides, the name of a crooked cop was more important than solving Carson’s murder.

  “It was self-defense,” I said, not liking that Fitch thought Carson had been murdered. “There’s a real difference.”

  Ramos widened his eyes at me, thinking I needed to keep my mouth shut. Fitch pinned his gaze on me and smiled, thinking I was a loaded gun and Ramos had his hands full keeping me quiet. With a little prodding, he might get me to tell him everything.

  “You don’t want to know,” I said. Ramos nudged me with his elbow…hard. “Oww. So…you don’t want to know?” I changed it into a question. “The name?”

  Fitch frowned, confused. What was going on with me? “Yes, of course I want to know.”

  “No more questions about Carson,” Ramos stated.

  “Fine,” Fitch agreed.

  “The name is Esposito,” Ramos said.

  “And his partner is in on it,” I added. “I never did get his name, but he’s got receding brown hair and he’s a little chubby.”

  “Rawlings,” Fitch said. “I know them.” He was grateful they weren’t in his precinct, but it was still a shock. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “The two cops with them left, so I don’t know who they were. But hopefully you can sort it all out.”

  “Okay,” Fitch said. “I guess I owe you my thanks, and I’ll keep you out of it.” He was thinking that his investigation would start with the blown-up boat belonging to Carson and go from there. “Are you both leaving town?” he asked. “Because I think that might be best.”

  “Yes,” Ramos said.

  “Good. If there isn’t anything else…”

  “There is one more thing,” Ramos said. “I was wondering about my brother. Can you tell me any more about him?” At Fitch’s surprised expression he continued. “Like where he’s buried, or if he said anything about me before he died?”

  Fitch’s mind went blank, then he tried to think of something to tell Ramos that would make sense. “Um…your mother had him cremated, so there’s no grave.” He knew Ramos had missed her funeral as well, so that was pretty safe to say.

  “Oh,” Ramos said. He hadn’t expected that. This was not going very well.

  “That makes sense,” I said. I rubbed Ramos’ arm and smiled at him before turning back to Fitch. “You have to understand it’s been hard for Ramos to come back here after all this time. He left a lot of unfinished business, and it would be nice to have some closure.”

  Ramos stared at me, thinking I’d gone too far. I nudged him and smiled. “When someone dies so young, you always wonder what would have become of them if they’d lived,” I continued. “You know, like what kind of work they would have chosen, if they would have had a family, where they would have lived…stuff like that.” I shrugged.

  “Yeah,” Ramos agreed, picking it up. “I figured Javier would have done something with numbers since he was so good at math, but I doubt he would have stayed around here. Not with mom and me gone. What do you think, Fitch?”

  Fitch had a hard time keeping his jaw from dropping. Did we know Javier was still alive? How? It was one of his best-kept secrets. Especially with his last name changed to Moreno, he was virtually untraceable. “I didn’t know that much about him,” Fitch said. “But I’m sure he would have been a fine young man.”

  Ramos nodded and glanced at me wondering if I got what I needed. I smiled back with a slight nod.

  “Well, I guess we’ll never know,” Ramos said.

  Fitch pursed his lips to keep from blurting that Javier was still alive. It didn’t matter how guilty he felt about keeping this secret from Ramos, he still couldn’t justify the danger to Javier that Ramos posed. But was it his choice to make? He sighed. Maybe not, but the cycle of violence had to stop somewhere, and if that meant it was on his shoulders, so be it.

  “If you’re ever in Orlando again, look me up,” Fitch said, standing. He was thinking that maybe at some future day he could tell Ramos the truth, and he wanted to leave the door open just in case he could.

  “Sure,” Ramos agreed. They shook hands, and Fitch nodded at me, then turned and walked out the door, his thoughts already centered on building a case against the crooked cops.

  “So what did you find out?” Ramos asked.

  “Are you going to try and contact him?” I asked. My heart ached for Ramos, but I had to agree with Fitch that if anyone knew Ramos had a brother, he could become a target.

  Ramos glanced at me with surprise and confusion. Wasn’t I with him on this? Did I think he would ever do anything to harm his brother again? He didn’t want anything to happen to his brother, but he needed to know where he was. He wanted to see him with his own eyes. Did finding him mean he would talk with him? “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

  “He goes by Javier Moreno now, and he lives in Miami.” I paused, giving Ramos a moment to digest this information. “He works full time for a bank and he’s also going to school to get his CPA.”

  “That’s great.” Ramos smiled, pleased and proud of his brother. He was in college and was doing something with his life. It was better than he’d hoped.

  “There’s more,” I said. “He’s married and has a child.”

  Ramos inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he let out his breath. He caught my gaze, then dropped his eyes to the table, not wanting me to see the moisture in them. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Wow, that’s something isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “It looks like he’s doing well.”

  Ramos took a drink of water and composed himself. He wasn’t sure what to do, but his yearning to see his brother was overwhelming all rational thought. He couldn’t believe how something good had come out of all that pain. He should probably go home now, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when he was so close.

  “I want to see him,” Ramos said. “I can’t go back without seeing him. I know you probably don’t approve, but after all this time, I can’t just walk away. Not again.”

  “All right,” I said, resigned to his choice. “What do you want to do?”

  “Miami is about a four hour drive from here,” he said, checking his watch. “But we can get there a lot quicker if we take the jet.”

  I chuckled. “Well then by all means, let’s just jet on down there.”

  With that decision made, we hurried back to the house. Ramos made the phone call to Uncle Joey, which went surprisingly well. He came in from the patio with a smile on his face.

  “He’s really okay with it?” I asked.

  “Of course,” Ramos said. “Don’t forget that winning a million dollars last night d
idn’t hurt either.”

  “Oh yeah,” I agreed. “Now it makes perfect sense. Did you tell him about your brother?”

  “Didn’t have to. Which is how I want to keep it. The less people that know the truth, the better. Now all I have to do is arrange everything with the pilots, but it shouldn’t take long.” He was thinking we’d probably get to Miami around five.

  “Five?” I said. “After that we still have to find Javier.” My stomach clenched with disappointment. “We’re not going to make it home tonight are we?”

  “Probably not,” he said. He saw my shoulders slump and hurried to my side. “I know you want to get home, Shelby. But it’s just one more day.”

  “Then you have to let me tell Chris the truth,” I said. “He has to know the reason, or I can’t do it.”

  “Okay, I know,” he reassured me. “Just don’t tell him everything, all right?” He was thinking about the whole sad story and how he didn’t want anyone’s pity or judgment.

  “No, I won’t. I won’t tell anyone your secret, ever, I promise.”

  Ramos took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks. If you think it will help, I’ll talk to Chris myself and make sure he’s okay with it.”

  “If he asks to talk to you again, that might be helpful.” I really didn’t know how Chris would take it. If it were me, I wouldn’t like it much. But there were lots of times when he got stuck at the office, and I understood things like that happened. Maybe I could remind him that in this case, it was just like that for me? He was sure to feel better about it when I put it that way. “But I will be home tomorrow, right?” I asked Ramos.

  “Yes,” Ramos said. He was thinking that if for some reason we couldn’t find Javier, he’d come back another time when he had more information. And maybe if he was lucky, I’d even agree to come with him. He glanced at me, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  I grinned back, but shook my head and rolled my eyes. “I’m going to get my stuff.”

  Chapter 13

  The drive to the airport was bittersweet, knowing it was the last time I’d be in this car with Ramos. He opened the sunroof and turned up the salsa music, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

  I’d never been to the ‘other’ airport with the private planes before, so I just followed Ramos around like a puppy until we were walking out to the plane. The pilot and co-pilot were standing beside the stairs leading up to the small jet and greeted Ramos and me cordially.

  I’d also never been in a small jet before, and my heart sped up just to step inside. Ramos explained that it was a six-passenger jet, and as I entered, I noticed the first four seats faced each other with the other two behind. The seats were extra-wide and fully adjustable. They came in a cream-colored plush leather. Fold-out tables could be pulled between the seats, with cup holders spaced in the paneling along the outside by the windows. After getting comfortable in my chair, I figured I could get used to this. Ramos took the chair opposite mine, and once our luggage was secured, we were ready to go.

  We taxied to the runway and got into position. I braced myself, and Ramos smiled, thinking it was a hoot to watch how excited I got. All at once the jet took off, and I held my breath. Moments later, we were airborne and I relaxed, ready to breathe again. When the pilot told us we could turn our cell phones back on, I knew it was time to call Chris.

  He answered after the first ring. “Hey honey,” he said. “It looks like you got your phone back.”

  “Yes I did. And we’re pretty much done here.”

  “Sweet. So are you on your way home?”

  “Almost,” I said. “I’m actually on Uncle Joey’s jet right now, but we have to make a pit stop in Miami before we head home.”

  “Huh,” he said, his tone changing. “So what’s going on now?”

  “Well…I’m helping Ramos find his brother, so there’s nothing you have to worry about. Ramos actually thought his brother was dead, but it turns out he’s alive and living in Miami, so it’s going to be pretty simple. No breaking and entering, no poker, no kidnapping, and no being arrested. It’s pretty much stop by, find him, say hello, and leave. Then I’ll be home. It might be tomorrow if it takes too long to find him tonight. But it will be tomorrow for sure. Is that okay?”

  Chris huffed. “Does it matter? I mean…you’re pretty much stuck, right?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I said. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

  “Is this something you have to do?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Then I won’t be mad at you. But this is it, right? You’ll be home tomorrow for sure? I can plan on that?”

  “Yes, Chris. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  “Let me talk to Ramos,” he said.

  I held the phone out to Ramos. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Ramos grunted and took the phone. “Yes,” he said. I heard Chris ask him if I was really coming home tomorrow. “Absolutely,” Ramos said. “You have my word. And Chris, I don’t want anyone to know about my brother. If it got out, he could be in real danger.”

  Chris said something like if Ramos brought me home safe, he’d forget all about him having a brother. Then he asked to speak to me. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said. “Call me when you know what time you’ll get here, okay?”

  “You bet,” I agreed.

  “Oh,” he added. “And when you get home you can tell me all about the poker game, the breaking and entering, and let’s see…did you say you got arrested? And what was that about kidnapping?”

  “Those two kind of went together,” I explained. “But it’s all good now.”

  “I see,” he sighed. “Okay then…I guess I’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I’ll fill you in then.”

  We said our goodbyes and disconnected. I heaved a huge sigh myself, grateful to have that conversation over. “That went pretty well,” I said to Ramos.

  He shook his head, thinking that Chris was in for a shock and wondering how he handled being married to me without going insane with worry. “Are you really going to tell him everything?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Even when I don’t think I should, I usually end up telling him what he wants to know. You have to remember he is a lawyer and really good at cross-examination. But sometimes I can keep it vague enough that he doesn’t get too upset.”

  “I don’t think I could do it,” Ramos said, thinking about all the close calls I’d been through during the course of our association.

  “Yeah, but you’re there,” I said. “That’s why he doesn’t freak out. That’s why he talks to you. He trusts that you’ll protect me. And you always have.”

  “I suppose so,” Ramos agreed. “I haven’t thought of it that way, so I guess it works.” Then he was thinking that it was a good thing nothing was going on between us, or he’d be in deep…he glanced at me, and decided to change the subject. “So it’s Javier Moreno now? I guess we’ll have to look him up on the Internet.”

  Ramos got out his smart phone and began the search. “It looks like there are a couple of listings here that could be him.”

  “We could always look him up on facebook too,” I suggested.

  “He shouldn’t be on facebook,” Ramos grumbled. “Not if he wants to keep a low profile.”

  We looked him up just the same, but it was a dead-end. “We’ll check out the two addresses I found and go from there,” Ramos said.

  The flight to Miami was only an hour, but it was still a shock to find out we were ready to land. Before I knew, it we were at the car rental place. This time Ramos got a black convertible. We drove out in style, and Ramos put the top down. With the wind whipping my hair around, I got out my hair hat and put it on. Ramos laughed, thinking I looked kind of funny, or maybe like a tourist, especially with my white-rimmed sunglasses, but I didn’t care.

  The first address we went to was an apartment complex in a run-down neighborhood. Ramos put the top back up on the car to m
ake us look less conspicuous, and we settled in to watch people come and go. The car was a little too nice for this neighborhood, and as several people pointed us out, I started to get nervous. It was like having a big target painted on the car for everyone to see.

  Ramos tensed with each passing moment, hoping this was the wrong place and that Javier couldn’t be here. It was too much like the place where he’d grown up, and he didn’t like it one bit. Several cars passed, and one slowed down to get a look at us before continuing down the road. A few minutes later, a car slowly cruised down the street toward us, the radio loud and windows rolled down. There were at least four people inside, and from what I could see they were all young men with tank tops and bandanas.

  Ramos swore and pulled out, quickly flipping a u-turn, thinking we were about to get carjacked if he didn’t do something. It was a good thing he did, because a car coming the other way swerved around us and would have boxed us in.

  The car behind accelerated to follow, and Ramos made some quick turns out of the neighborhood. He pulled onto a three-lane boulevard and maneuvered into the far lane, leaving the other car behind. “Damn!” Ramos hit the steering wheel with his palm. “That better not be where he’s living.”

  “I can’t believe Fitch would be okay with Javier living there,” I said. “He must be somewhere else.”

  “Unless Fitch doesn’t know,” Ramos added, glumly.

  The other place was across town and took us forty-five minutes to find. This neighborhood was not much better, but at least it didn’t seem quite as bad. The address took us to a small box-like house with a yard and not much else. There was a driveway on the side of the house, but no garage. The house needed a paint job and some obvious repairs, but the porch and yard were clean and tidy.

  At least in this neighborhood, our car didn’t stand out so much, and no one seemed to notice us. It was the time of day when people were starting to come home from work, and we parked in the shade a few houses down, hoping we’d get lucky and catch someone coming home. After a few minutes, we were both hot and sweaty, even with the windows rolled down.