“But why would a man like Grey Justice want to help us? Isn’t he in the same category wealth-wise as Slater?”
“Yeah. I don’t know a lot about his motives. One thing does ring true—he believes Jonah Slater was innocent and was framed by his father. Based on what Thomas told me about the case, I’m inclined to agree with him.”
She twisted in her seat to face him. “Thomas’s letter said something similar. Not that Mathias Slater framed his son—which seems beyond bizarre—but that his arrest and conviction were just too pat. That’s the reason Thomas started investigating the family. I guess he was right. But how is Grey Justice going to help?”
“That’s why we’re going to meet with him. He says he has a plan.”
“You seem to be taking a lot of things on faith these days.”
“You have no idea.”
So far, Justice had lived up to his end of the bargain, but that didn’t mean Nick trusted the man. He’d learned long ago that every person had his or her own agenda. For the time being, their two agendas coincided.
“Where are we going?”
“A warehouse in the Lakeland district. Know it?”
“No. I don’t know Dallas that well. I’m mostly just familiar with my neighborhood and the area around Slater House Hotels.”
“So what do you do in your job?”
“I started out in data entry, got bumped up to their online reservation department and then moved to their central booking department. A couple of months ago, I was promoted to accounts receivable. And today I got another promotion.”
“Seems like you’re moving up damn quick.”
“That’s my plan.”
“What plan, Kennedy? You still haven’t convinced me you even have one. Do you think making a wrong reservation or data-entry mistake is going to destroy Slater? Are you really that naïve?”
“I’m not naïve…I’m determined.”
“Determined to do what?”
“Make them pay.”
Cursing softly, Nick pulled to the side of the road.
She looked around curiously. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?”
“Answer my question. Make them pay how? Do you have a plan or not?”
“I thought we had an appointment. Won’t we be late?”
“He’ll wait. Tell me what kind of plan you had.”
She drew in a breath, as if preparing herself for his anger. He promised himself that he wouldn’t lose his temper…that he would hear her out. Hell, maybe she had a good plan.
“I’m going to get promoted into a position where I can destroy them from the inside.”
He was too stunned to lose his temper. This was her plan? To be a good employee?
“That’s it?”
“Okay, I know it sounds vague, but—”
“Vague? Hell, vague would be a compliment.”
“I didn’t say it was a good plan. I just—”
“It’s not a plan, Kennedy. It’s a way to get yourself killed.” To hell with his promise to not lose his temper. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that these people took everything from me and they have to pay.”
“And how long have you given yourself to bring this plan into fruition?”
“As long as it takes.”
“So, basically, you have no set time limit.”
She spat out her next words. “I don’t give a damn if it takes a year, ten years or a lifetime. I don’t care if I’m ninety years old and in a wheelchair. They. Will. Pay.”
The streetlight allowed him to see the glittering in her eyes. At first he thought they were tears but reevaluated when he saw the determined set to her mouth and heard the hardness in her voice.
He didn’t know whether to pull her into his arms and tell her how damn wonderful he thought she was or shout at her for being so damn self-sacrificing. Since he knew neither one would be the right thing to do, he kept quiet.
Taking Nick’s silence as a good thing—at least he wasn’t shouting at her—she told him about her latest progress. “Today I interviewed to be Eli Slater’s executive assistant. I got the job.”
“Are you out of your freaking mind? The minute he recognizes you, you won’t live to see the next.”
So much for not shouting at her. “He hasn’t recognized me…he won’t.” She leaned forward so the streetlight could show the determination on her face. “I will succeed, Nick.”
Long, tense moments passed. She held her breath, sure that he would once again tell her to forget her lame idea. Instead, without saying anything, he checked for traffic and pulled back onto the road.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Like I said. I’m going to help you.” His mouth moved up in a small smile. “Hopefully, before you’re ninety years old and in a wheelchair.”
She had been preparing herself for more arguing. His acceptance took the wind out of her sails.
“Thank you.”
“You know that Thomas would die all over again if he knew what you were doing, don’t you?”
“I know that. But how could I go on with my life, knowing that whoever was responsible for his death never paid?”
The car turned onto a narrow road and on either side were large, abandoned warehouses. How Nick knew which one to go to she had no idea. The adrenaline rush from seeing him again and their brief argument had dissipated. In its place was a surprising calm. She didn’t know what the next few moments would hold, but one thing she did know: She trusted the man beside her.
They pulled to a stop outside the warehouse of what looked to be a former clothing manufacturer. Windows were broken, and weeds grew around the perimeter. No lights indicated there was no one in the building. No cars were visible.
“Are you sure this is the place?”
“Yeah.” He leaned toward her, and Kennedy almost gasped, thinking he meant to grab her as he had earlier. She fought the ridiculous disappointment when she realized his focus was on the glove compartment. He opened it and pulled out a Glock. It looked much like Thomas’s service weapon.
“You brought your gun with you?” he asked.
“Yes.” She held up her purse.
“Good. Keep it hidden but close. Anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to use it to get away.”
Her pulse raced. He really wasn’t sure about this, but he was doing this to help her.
“Thank you, Nick.”
“For what? I haven’t done anything yet.”
“For wanting to help me.”
He gave her one of those enigmatic looks that told her there was so much more behind the handsome face he showed the world. But as usual he wasn’t going to reveal anything he didn’t want to.
“I want you to stay beside me at all times. Okay?”
She nodded.
“Let’s go.”
They got out and walked together into the warehouse. Though he wasn’t touching her, they were so close she felt the heat of his body. She knew without a doubt that if anything went wrong, Nick would do whatever he had to do to protect her, including putting his own life at risk. What had she gotten herself into? And, most important, what had she gotten Nick into? The last thing she wanted to do was involve someone else in this dangerous game she was playing.
Light flooded the room, and Nick stepped in front of her, shielding her.
A tall, broad-shouldered man emerged from the shadows. “Welcome Mr. Gallagher and Mrs. O’Connell. Please come in.”
Instantly recognizing the voice, Kennedy stepped out from behind Nick. “You’re the man who took me to the hospital.”
Cobalt blue eyes flickered with compassion. “I’m sorry about your child.”
Familiar grief tugged at her heart, as it always did when she thought about the baby she had lost. Oddly, even though he had apparently broken into her house, she now felt more secure about meeting the man. If he had wanted her dead—she’d been in the most vulnerable position imaginable—killing her
would have been easy. Instead, he had saved her life.
“Thank you. And I appreciate you taking me to the hospital.”
“I wish I could have done more.” His gaze turned to Nick, who was looking as astonished as she felt. “I’m assuming you didn’t know this, Gallagher?”
Nick shook his head. “Had no idea. Kennedy’s car was at the entrance to the emergency room. The driver’s seat was covered in blood.”
“After I dropped Mrs. O’Connell off in my vehicle, I returned to her home and took her car back to the hospital. The blood was mine.” He shrugged. “A small sacrifice to make it appear as though she drove herself.”
“I almost thought I had imagined you,” she said.
“As you might guess, I was in your house, searching.”
“For what Thomas had on the Slaters?”
“Yes. I didn’t know until later that he kept it locked up in a safe-deposit box.”
“You were watching me.”
“Again, yes. My apologies. I had hoped to get the information without involving you. When that didn’t work, I tried to get to you before Slater’s henchman. I was going to ring your doorbell after you returned from the bank and discuss what you found. Unfortunately, Slater’s man got to you first.”
“He threatened me…said if I told anyone about what happened, he would come back and kill me and whoever I told.”
“That’s what I figured. I assumed, as I’m sure he did, that he took the only thing your husband had stored in the box. But there was something else, too, wasn’t there? Something the man didn’t steal?”
“Yes, a letter from Thomas saying that if anything happened to him, it was because of the Slaters. Since Thomas was killed in what looked like a robbery attempt, I probably wouldn’t have believed his death had anything to do with them if that man hadn’t run me off the road and stolen the packet.”
“Where are my manners? Why don’t we all sit down…get comfortable?”
“We’re here, Justice,” Nick said. “Get to talking.”
Instead of acting insulted, the man gave a brief nod. “Very well. But Mrs. O’Connell might be more comfortable if she sat down. After all, she’s worked all day.”
While Nick grabbed one of the folding chairs leaning against the nearby wall and placed it behind her, she took a moment to assess the man across from her. He was about Nick’s height and size. He had rich, dark brown hair with a few surprising streaks of gold. It was short, almost military-style length. The lack of hair emphasized his firm, square jaw, high cheekbones, and hawkish nose. His stern, somewhat arrogant expression commanded attention, and for some unknown reason, Kennedy found herself standing straighter.
Nick gently pushed her into the chair he’d gotten for her, making her realize she’d just been standing in one place, staring.
The instant she was seated, Nick said, “Okay. We’re comfortable. Talk.”
Justice walked forward, and she felt Nick tense. Even though she couldn’t see his hand, she knew that it was poised at his side, ready to draw his weapon.
“Let me formally introduce myself, Mrs. O’Connell. My name is Grey Justice.” He held out his hand, and Kennedy took it. His grip was strong, his hand large, cool and slightly callused.
“I was an admirer of your husband’s and was sad to hear of his death.”
“You knew Thomas?”
“Not personally. I knew of him.”
“Tell us how you knew of him,” Nick said.
“Mind if I sit down? I’ve had a long day, too.”
“It’s your meeting.” Nick said.
Surprisingly, a dry chuckle came from Grey Justice as he pulled a chair from the wall and seated himself. “I’m glad you recognize that.”
Turning his attention back to Kennedy, Justice said, “I heard through certain channels that your husband was investigating Slater on his own. I had hoped to assist him, but circumstances kept me from being able to make contact with him until it was too late.”
“Why did you want to help him?”
“For several reasons, but most important because of what Slater is responsible for doing. Your husband had barely scratched the surface of what the family is involved in. They need to be stopped.”
“What exactly are they involved in? All I’ve been able to find so far are a few associations with some shady local politicians and a couple of flamboyant celebrities.”
“That’s because money can buy a tremendous amount of silence. The Slaters have their fingers in many pies—from money laundering and smuggling to extortion and murder.”
“Murder? You mean hiring a hit man?” Nick asked.
“Right. They would never dirty their hands with doing it themselves, not when they can pay others to do the deed. Over the years, we believe the family has been responsible for at least a dozen deaths.”
Kennedy could only shake her head. “Why would anyone feel the need to kill that many people? What are their motives?”
“I’m afraid you’re trying to make sense of something that’s not explainable. They believe they’re untouchable and can eliminate problems, if not with money, then in other ways. Unfortunately, your husband found this out too late.”
“And how do you propose to help?” Nick asked.
“By helping Mrs. O’Connell—” He stopped abruptly and said, “May I call you Kennedy?”
“Yes.”
“By helping Kennedy proceed with her plan.”
At the very least, Kennedy expected a snort of disgust from Nick. He had made it clear what he thought about her “non-plan.” He did nothing more than say, “And how are you going to do that?”
“I’m not. However, we have a mutual acquaintance that can.”
A door squeaked open, and both Kennedy and Nick turned toward the sound. The man who appeared at the door caused Kennedy to spring to her feet. Nick snarled a vicious curse as he stepped in front of Kennedy and pulled his gun.
A solemn expression on his handsome face, her new boss and one of the men Kennedy had planned to destroy strode toward them.
Chapter Thirteen
His Glock aimed directly at Eli Slater’s chest, Nick made sure Kennedy was completely covered. Dammit, he had brought her here, put her life at risk. How the hell could he have been so foolish?
Without taking his eyes off his target, Nick snarled at Justice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You set us up.”
“Lower your gun, Gallagher.” Justice said. “It’s not what you think.”
“No way in hell am I going to lower my gun. You’ve got exactly one minute before I put a hole through one of you.”
Throwing Justice an “I told you so” look, Eli Slater said, “This wasn’t exactly how I had planned to meet with you two, but Grey has his own way of doing things.”
“We’re down to thirty seconds,” Nick said. “Somebody better start talking.”
“You heard the man,” said a shaky but determined voice behind him. Then her voice lowered. “I’ve got my gun on Justice.”
Even though he was furious at himself, he felt a flash of pride at her readiness to help.
“All right, Gallagher,” Justice said, “since you’ve limited me on time, I’ll be succinct. Eli is not part of his family’s evil empire. For the past three years he’s been working with me to destroy their illegal operations.”
“What proof do you have?” Nick asked. “How do we know this isn’t just a trick to get us to tell you what we know before you kill us?”
“Because both of your deaths could have easily occurred without much effort on my part,” Justice said. “We’ve known who you were from the beginning of your investigation, Mr. Gallagher. And we know you don’t have anything against Slater or you would have tried to use it already.”
“What about you, Slater? Why would you turn against your father…your family?” Nick asked.
“It would be easier to converse without having a gun pointed at me. If you’ll both lower your weapons, perhaps we
could sit and I’ll tell you everything.”
Though still on edge and wary, Nick was beginning to accept this astonishing development. However, he wasn’t the only one involved in this. His gun still targeting Eli Slater’s chest, he said, “Kennedy? What do you think?”
“As unbelievable as it may seem, I think they’re telling the truth.”
“Then let’s hear them out.” Lowering his gun, he added, “Stay sharp, though…just in case.”
“Will do.”
“Eli, why don’t you start? I’ll fill in when necessary,” Justice said.
A chair scraped against the concrete floor, and Eli Slater settled his large frame into it with a sigh. “Believe it or not, I didn’t know about my family’s illegal activities until a few years ago.”
“How is that possible?” Kennedy asked.
“Money can go a long way in protecting ignorance. I went to university in England and after graduation, stayed there to work for our hotel chain. I married, had children…visited the States only when I had to. My father and I have never been close.”
A flicker of sadness crossed his face. “My wife’s family moved to New York a few years after our marriage. When she started having health issues, I thought it would be good for her to be closer to them.
“Dallas isn’t close to New York, but it’s nearer than England. At first I didn’t know anything. Everything seemed as normal as always. Then I started hearing whispers, rumors. That’s the first I realized that the Slater name had connotations other than wealth and privilege.”
“And when you found out, you just joined in,” Nick said.
His chin cocked slightly at the insult, but instead of being defensive, he said, “I won’t deny that I tried to justify the things I heard. Being wealthy can make you a target. Some people assume that just because you have money, you’re somehow corrupt. When it became clear that the rumors might have some truth to them, I had…some personal problems crop up that took my attention away. I didn’t do anything until it was too late. Something I’ll always regret. When Jonah was arrested, my eyes were opened for good.”
“From what I read of his case, no one could dispute that your brother was guilty.”
Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel Page 11
