Page 3 of Secrets Beneath the Waves (Beach Read Thrillers #2)

CHAPTER

THREE

“It’s here.” Zeyla crouched near three metal trash cans. A street over, behind a sandwich shop that was closed for the night.

Except now Ramon was hungry for some reason. Perhaps to distract himself from watching her retrieve a box from behind the trash cans—and from the achy pains in his back and shoulders, and pretty much everywhere.

He blew out a breath. “You hid it and then came and found me?”

“I saw you take a header off that roof, stashed it, and ran over.”

Ramon caught himself before he rolled his shoulders, which would hurt, and stuck his thumbs in his pockets. “Did you know it was me?”

“I kind of hoped it was the man that’d been following me the past few days.” She straightened, holding a package. “Apart from you.”

As if she’d been aware he was following her. He didn’t believe it. Though, he figured she might have assumed as much when going off on her own. She’d know Kenna wouldn’t want her to be unprotected.

“You okay?” She scanned him from head to toe. “We could swing by a hospital and let them check you out.”

Ramon shook his head. “I’ll tell you if I need to go to the hospital.”

“Still feels strange, doesn’t it?” She moved in a way he took to mean he should walk with her. They set off together down the alley. “Checking in. Being part of a team.”

“I’m getting used to it.”

“Is Kenna mad that I took off? I don’t suppose my mother even noticed.”

There was a lot to unpack in that. “Kenna was worried and wanted you to have backup. Probably because both of you have been captives of…them.” He avoided saying the word Dominatus because he knew she didn’t like to hear it spoken aloud. “No need to lose anyone.”

“Can’t guarantee everyone will make it through this alive.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try.”

“Or that any of us have any business going off alone. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

Ramon shrugged. “Why don’t you take my mind off this extreme discomfort”—and the identity of the man who had just shoved him off that roof—“and tell me about that package.”

“My car is over there.” She looked aside at him. “You aren’t coming in my motel room.”

He nodded because that was a good boundary. “Mine? I have a hotel suite with a living area.”

“Of course you do.” She seemed to think that was humorous for some reason. “Sure. I’ll follow you.”

He kept her in the rearview the whole way, winding through downtown streets and even hitting the freeway for a few minutes. He called Maizie as he drove.

“Hey, how’s things?” She sounded distracted.

Ramon held the wheel with one hand. “Lot of homework?”

Maizie was currently taking college classes for the sake of having a degree, not because she wasn’t smart.

She might be the smartest person Ramon had ever met, and now that she was an adult, spreading her wings had started in earnest. She might live in a trailer in Colorado, where friends of theirs had their retirement cabin, but she was venturing out.

Getting to know people at the church she’d begun to attend and hanging out with classmates. She was even learning to drive now.

Given that she’d grown up in captivity, he loved seeing her discover new things and find her strengths.

But it also terrified him to no end, worrying that something might happen to her.

It was why he’d jumped at the job when Kenna called.

He needed to be busy enough he was exhausted at the end of the day, not lying awake at night wondering if Maizie was safe.

“This paper is due in half an hour.”

Ramon checked the clock. They weren’t in the same time zone, so it would be eleven thirty at night where she was. “I’ll email you what I need for later.”

“Is it interesting? This is driving me crazy, it’s so boring. Who cares about the Peloponnesian War?”

“Everyone.”

“I don’t have time for you to explain that. I need to finish this.”

Ramon chuckled. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks, Hermano. ”

He hung up, smiling that she was still calling him “brother” in Spanish.

He’d lost his sister years ago and didn’t have any other family left.

Maizie was the same, prying herself free of the horrifying way she’d grown up and forging healthy relationships that helped her heal.

He wanted to be part of that, if only to show her what a good brother-sister relationship looked like.

Ramon recorded a voice message explaining what he knew about Miguel that related to running his ID or how to find him. The rest of it, he left off. But the fact the guy had shown up here as a hired killer wasn’t surprising. He’d probably intended to murder Ramon by throwing him off that roof.

Whatever Zeyla was into, with a severed limb, of all things, in a package, he needed to focus on that and not on a guy he’d probably never see again. Hopefully.

The man Ramon had become acted nothing like the guy he’d been in Mexico while working for a cartel.

These days, he strove to be the man Kenna seemed to have all that faith in.

Not only because he’d had feelings for her since they met.

That affection had grown into a solid friendship and a great working partnership.

He respected her husband, Jax, more than anyone—even considering how long the guy had been an FBI agent.

Ten minutes later, he let Zeyla in the side door of the hotel, and they headed up to the elevator with her still holding that package.

“You okay?” She squinted at him.

The small stone in her nose piercing glinted in the light overhead. Yeah, she was nothing like Kenna in a whole lot of ways. But she was also several years younger than him—maybe as much as ten. “How old are you?”

“How old do you want me to be?” She stared at him from under those long, dark lashes.

The elevator doors opened. Ramon stepped out, senses alert, just in case Miguel knew about this hotel room.

Getting into another fight would be preferable to whatever that had been with Zeyla back there.

She lived by her own rules, and that was her prerogative.

Ramon wanted to live up to Kenna’s faith in him more than anything, so whatever bait she dangled out, he wasn’t going to bite.

He used the app on his phone to unlock the room door and held the door while she came inside. “I need to do a walk-through. Make sure no one has been in here.”

“I need a drink anyway.”

By the time he got back to the living room with the couch and armchair, a coffee table, and a TV on a stand, she was knocking back a glass of something. The tiny open bottle on the coffee table told him what he’d be paying for when he checked out.

“Start talking.” Ramon folded his arms.

“You don’t have to look so disapproving. It isn’t like I asked to find this.” For the first time tonight, she actually looked like she might not be okay with the contents of the box she motioned toward.

“Start talking from the beginning.”

Zeyla said, “You look like you need a drink.”

“I’m having a dry month.”

She eyed him quizzically, then sighed. “I’m looking for someone, but I’m nowhere near finding out his real identity or where to find him.

” She picked her way around the coffee table and slumped down onto the couch, propping her boots on the tabletop next to the box and waving at it.

“I was supposed to be picking up intel, and I get this? It makes no sense.”

Ramon grabbed the TV remote and used it to lift the flap of the box so he could see inside. “Why’d you open it in the mailbox place?”

A severed hand. Female, no wrinkles or that papery skin of older age, and this wasn’t the hand of a child. The fingernails were painted red, chipped off in places, and there was a scratch on the middle knuckle of the index finger .

“She fought back.”

Zeyla sucked in a breath.

Ramon repeated his last question.

“I thought it was intel! If there was a flash drive in there, I was going to pocket it and leave the packaging behind.”

“Instead, you found a hand.”

“How am I supposed to get intel from that?” Her voice rose in volume.

“Do you want me to help you figure it out?” After all, she seemed freaked, even though she would probably deny it. “Under the banner of making sure you’re all right, which is what I was sent here to do.”

“Wouldn’t want to let down Kenna.”

“No, I don’t.” He shot her a look. “She saved my life, and she got me my reputation back.”

This was the first he’d heard of any resentment from her. Not a good look when they were all supposed to be on the same side, fighting Dominatus so they could take down the big evil in the world.

As soon as they did, another group would show up to fill the void.

That was simply how it worked. And it left those who worked in law enforcement and the military feeling as if they were playing that carnival game where creatures continually popped up and you had to smack them down.

Over and over. The minute you hit one, another flung up right after it, leaving you chasing the win.

“Maybe I don’t need your help. I haven’t so far, and I’ve done fine.”

“I get it. You don’t need anyone because it’s easier than letting people in and then getting let down when they turn out to be flawed. It’s easier not to care. Or to say you don’t.”

She had stiffened somewhere in there, while he was talking. Now, she said, “You think you know who I am? You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “I’ll admit I barely know you.”

“But you think you’ve got me figured out.” She relaxed back against the couch. “Why don’t you use your amazing powers of drawing conclusions with no evidence to figure out who the owner of that hand is?”

What she didn’t realize was that she was giving away more than she wanted to every time she spoke.

Giving him more than enough evidence to draw conclusions.

In a lot of ways, they were similar, and she was a whole lot like Kenna as well.

But he’d love the chance to get to know her more, just to affirm he was right to put his faith in her and trust her to watch his back.

Ramon looked at the hand again. “We need a private forensics lab that doesn’t ask questions but who will testify in court as to their findings if it comes to that.”

“You still think taking down our enemies is going to happen because we brought them to justice?” She laughed, and it had a hollow sound to it. “I don’t want any part of it because it isn’t going to work.”

“You have a better way to figure out whose hand this is?”

“Trace the source.” She closed her eyes. “The guy who was supposed to be leaving me intel, but instead, he left me that.”

“Why are you in Spokane, Zeyla?”

“This place has its charms.” She exhaled, relaxing into the couch a little more.

“Not sure I’d agree with that.” He stared at her. “You’re falling asleep.”

Her head lolled to the side, but she sucked in a breath and blinked. Trying to focus on the room, or him.

“Who are you looking for?”

“A myth.”

“Zeyla, who are you looking for?”

The severed hand was female, which meant it could be a friend or relative. Did she know someone who was missing that needed to be found? Why she wouldn’t have asked any of them for help was a mystery. That was right up their alley. It was what Banbury Investigations stood for.

Finding the lost and forgotten.

No matter who they were.

She shook her head, her eyes fluttering closed. “The Count of Shadows.”