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CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Ramon ran to the edge,and his momentum nearly sent him flying over. His foot slid down the gravel ridge, sending a spray of dirt and small rocks down the hill. He grabbed the closest tree and hung on, trying not to go down the same way Zeyla had. If he did that, the steepness of the hill would have him tumbling to his death.

He scanned the ground, everywhere he could see. The whole thing was far too steep to keep his footing without a rope to stop him from falling all the way to the bottom. What they needed was a rescue team with rock climbing gear and medical supplies. If he tried to go after her, he was only going to be as injured as she was.

Or dead.

He sank to his knees and started to slide down the hill. The loose gravel wanted to suck him the way of gravity, relentlessly pulling him to the bottom. One step and he would be falling.

“Zeyla!”

He yelled her name a couple more times, then waited. Listening as hard as he could for the sound of her yelling back to him.

But there was no answer.

Finally, he spotted her all the way at the bottom of the hill—more like a cliff for all he was able to scale his way down there. She lay curled up on the ground, unmoving.

He called her name again, two more times. Trying to convince himself that wasn’t blood in her hair.

She was gone.

Dead, just like Miguel. He stared down at his hands, now stained with Miguel’s blood. Ramon had wanted to be a different kind of person, but he was still exactly the guy he had always been. The person he always would be. No matter what happened, that man was always going to be inside him.

He wasn’t sure how long he waited, sitting there and watching to see if she moved. He called out a few more times, but Zeyla never answered. If he wanted to get her back, even just her body, then someone else was going to have to go down there.

Exhausted and covered in dirt, Ramon managed to stand. The nausea in his stomach persisted, but he decided not to think about it. Or the way Miguel looked lying there on the ground, blood soaking into the dirt beneath him.

Ramon crouched and went through the man’s pockets, finding his wallet and cell phone, along with the car keys. He took the cash from Miguel’s wallet and used his face to unlock the phone before changing the password to an easy pin. He stared at the screen and the blank background where someone with a life and a family would have put a picture. But there was nothing. Because Miguel’s life wasn’t one with personal attachments, and he didn’t cling to any places.

Ramon’s phone had an image of a New Mexico sunset, a spur of the moment image he’d snapped one night when they were out on a case. Bruce had stopped to admire the colors of the sky with him, but Zeyla hadn’t bothered. Because in all her life, the ability to find peace and finally make her life as she wanted ithadn’t happened yet. She had still been waiting for her future to start.

The things the rest of them had taken so much for granted were what Zeyla had been working for. And would have given her life to gain.

Tonight, she might have done exactly that. Which meant it was up to him to ensure that her death had been worth it.

Ramon used Miguel’s phone to call Maizie’s number.

It rang a number of times before she finally answered. “Banbury Investigations.”

He tried to speak, but the words caught. He cleared his throat. “It’s Ramon.” He cleared his throat again. “Can you pull everything from this phone and find out who hired him to kill me and Zeyla?”

“What’s going on?” Maizie asked gently. “Did something happen?”

“I’ll leave the line open so you can pull everything from this phone. I’ll use mine to—” He hadn’t had any signal on the way up this mountain. “How does Miguel have signal?”

Ramon had to plant a hand on his chest and breathe, feeling like he was a hundred years old all of a sudden. As if he had just run a one mile sprint or worked out harder than he had in his life. He closed his eyes, but all he saw was Zeyla lying at the bottom of the cliff.

Maizie said, “Looks like whoever owns this phone had it upgraded so that it pulls from satellite signal. You’re calling me over Wi-Fi signal.”

He lowered the phone and looked at the screen. Sure enough, Miguel had no cell signal, but he did have an internet connection that enabled Ramon to use Wi-Fi calling.

All he wanted to do was lay back on the ground and not even try to fight the exhaustion. But he couldn’t do that if he wasgoing to find the person ultimately responsible for Zeyla’s death and bring them to justice.

He cleared his throat again. “I need you to call Amara and tell her to come to Spokane.” Zeyla’s mother would want to be here when emergency services recovered her body.

“What happened, Ramon?”