Page 9 of Secrets Beneath the Waves
“I know you prefer anonymity. But if there’s going to be a court case against whoever was behind the severed hand, things need to be aboveboard so the defense has no angle to argue technicalities on the charges presented by the district attorney. Right?”
“Hmm. I guess.”
His guess would be that she also preferred a decisive resolution. She’d already scoffed at the idea they might seek justice againstDominatususing conventional means. Given the group was international, that would probably mean the International Criminal Court brought the charges. He had to admit that it did seem like a long shot.
The man he wanted to be needed to seek justice the right way, not using the methods Zeyla or someone like Miguel might use to right a wrong. But he could see how she’d think that was less than effective, or at least slow and risky. However, she couldn’t possibly put a bullet between the eyes of every person involved with a group spread across the world.
He stopped by his car, which they’d brought. She had left hers at the hotel where he was staying and opted to ride with him—something that surprised him. “Where to now?”
“Let’s go visit my contact.” She pulled open her door and slid into the passenger seat.
Ramon turned on the car, and she tapped the screen, entering a location that wasn’t exactly an address. More like a general area.
“Two hours’ drive to get there. You want to grab coffee?”
Zeyla shrugged. “I’ll take a chai. I don’t drink coffee.”
Ramon bit back a sarcastic comment about that being an indication of something being wrong with her. He didn’t want to battle with her or come across like he was flirting. There was already enough tension between them, and he didn’t need it getting personal.
He swung by a drive-through coffee place and got her a chai, plus her requested chocolate croissant. He grabbed himself black coffee—because it was a moral high ground—and a breakfast burrito.
The GPS indicated it was two hours to the spot she’d pinned on the map, and she fell asleep five minutes into the drive. Or she was pretending, which was fine by him. He took the chance to get some perspective and think over everything.
Miguel was likely going to turn out to be a serious problem.
Added to the already serious problem of whatever was going on that resulted in a severed hand. He wasn’t going to leave Zeyla here to fend for herself. He needed to see it through.
Sure, the task was only to check if she was all right and see if she needed backup. But he couldn’t, in all good conscience, walk away when she might get herself into a situation where she did need backup, and he was hundreds of miles away.
Ramon’s phone rang, so he tapped the button on his steering wheel and answered. “Santiago.”
“It’s just me.”Maizie.
“How’d your paper go?”
“It’s gone, and I don’t want to think about it.”
He’d rather have talked about the Spartans with her because he thought ancient history was interesting, but he figured hewasn’t about to understand a young adult woman anytime soon. Their relationship didn’t need that shared interest in order to survive. “Fair enough. Do you have anything for me?”
She likely wouldn’t have called otherwise, but she might just want to complain about something or shoot the breeze.
Maizie said, “There’s not much on this Miguel guy. I got more on the doctor at Pioneer Forensics.”
“Something interesting in Swanson’s background?”
“Depends if you think this is interesting,” she said. “Four years ago, he was assigned the remains for several murders. Ones that the police department was attributing to a serial killer. They refused FBI help, trying to keep it in-house instead. The mayor and the police chief went on TV over and over, giving information about the case and warning people to be careful, but the evidence Doctor Swanson found indicated the bodies were all killed by different people. When his reports didn’t match the narrative that they were sticking to, he was fired. There were several arrests, and the police chief and the mayor were back on TV telling everyone the convictions were due to the tireless efforts of local law enforcement, despite how they were ‘stonewalled’—their word—by the ME’s office.”
“They forced him out?”
Zeyla shifted in her seat in a way that let him know she was awake or waking up.
“Just for pointing out what they didn’t want to believe,” Maizie said. “Or so it looks.”
Ramon spotted a turnoff coming up, an exit on this two-lane highway with few cars. “Or he just got sick of the bureaucracy. There’s usually more money in the private sector.”
“You’re looking for a job?” Maizie asked, her voice tense.
“Of course not. I’m already making more money in the private sector.” And it was legitimate money. Even filing his taxes felt like another step in the right direction toward livinga clean life. “There’s no way I’m going back to law enforcement even if they ask me. Which they won’t.”
