Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel

by Christy Reece

  Nausea threatened, but she fought it for all she was worth. The pain was nothing compared to losing Nick…she needed to get to him. Adam had to have gone to another floor by now. She could wait no longer.

  Cautiously, she opened the door and peeked out. No sound. Quickly, quietly, she targeted the exit sign above the stairway door. If Adam was on the stairs, waiting for her, she’d have to duck back out quickly, but she had no choice but to move.

  She opened the door, listened intently…still no sounds. Taking a chance, she ran down the stairs. Her head spun, the steps blurred before her, but she made herself continue. To keep herself focused on staying upright, she ticked off the floor number with each level she reached—twenty-five, twenty-four.

  Where was Adam? Was he searching each floor? She could only hope. Sixteen…fifteen… Had Nick taken care of Denton yet? Was he on the elevator, headed up to Adam’s office? How long ago had he called for help?

  Tenth floor…nine more to go. She could do this. Her arm was bleeding profusely now…she’d lost the napkins somewhere. The blurred red of an exit sign danced over her head, taunting her…inviting her to go inside, rest for a bit. Not yet, not yet.

  Fifth floor, four more to go. She could do this, she could do this. Think of Nick. He was waiting for her…he loved her…

  Fourth floor…three more to go.

  On the third-floor landing, the door surged open. Adam stood at the entrance, his mouth stretched in an evil, devilish grin. Creepy, dead-like eyes gleamed with an inhuman malevolence. “Ha…ha…ha…caught ya!” He raised the gun slowly as if savoring the final moment.

  Oh hell no. She had come too far, lost too much, to let this bastard win. She caught sight of a fire extinguisher hanging from the wall. With superhuman strength and the roar of a furious woman who would not be defeated, Kennedy grabbed the cylinder and swung it around. She wasn’t aiming at anything in particular but managed to knock the gun from his hand.

  Adam yelped and dove for the gun. Kennedy swung again, aiming for his head, only hit his chest but managed to keep him from the gun. With a growling curse, he lunged toward her. She swung again, caught his shoulder in a glancing blow. He stumbled back and then surged forward once more.

  Aware that her strength was almost at an end, Kennedy drew on every bit of fury and anger she had within her to raise the cylinder again. “This is for my husband and baby, you son of a bitch.”

  She slammed the extinguisher into his face. Blood spurted, splattering against the walls and all over her. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Adam fell hard, onto his back.

  Breathless but triumphant, she stood over the man, who, without any conscience or remorse, had taken everything from her. His eyes were half open, his mouth and nose a bloody mess. He looked weak, pitiful—not a man but a willing pawn for his even more evil father. She searched for compassion, forgiveness. Found none.

  “And this one’s for me.” Even though her strength was almost gone, she found enough to lift the extinguisher once more and slam the base into Adam’s groin. His squeal of agony bounced against the walls, echoing skyward in the empty staircase.

  “Kennedy!”

  Her breath coming in fits and spurts, she looked down to see Nick racing up the stairs, fire blazing in his eyes.

  Giddy with triumph and blood loss, she grinned. “We did it,” and pitched forward, unconscious, into his arms.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Sunshine brightened the interior of the oversized hospital room. Brilliant bouquets of flowers covered every flat surface. The outpouring of good wishes from friends, old and new, along with people they didn’t even know, was overwhelming and surprising. Who knew so many people would be happy to see Adam Slater go down?

  Nick sat in a chair beside Kennedy, who was lying on the hospital bed. Other than the times she was attended to by nurses or doctors, he hadn’t released hold of her. Didn’t plan to ever again.

  The nightmare of her covered in blood, collapsing in his arms, wasn’t something he’d get over this century or the next. Most of that blood had come from Adam, who had been in the stairwell above them, where Kennedy had left him bloodied and rolling around on the floor, crying for his daddy.

  Thankfully her arm injury was just a flesh wound, but she’d lost a fair amount of blood. The bruise on her cheek was minor, too, and for that alone Nick wished he’d had the chance to spend a few minutes of quality time with Adam Slater. Kennedy had made that unnecessary as she’d definitely taught the man a lesson he was never likely to forget.

  The gunshot wound, along with the trauma she’d endured, prompted the doctors to insist she stay a couple of days in the hospital. Being able to hide here was a blessing since news reporters were clamoring to talk to the woman who had uncovered a mountain of Slater corruption.

  The explosion of events over the last twelve hours had left all of them reeling. Mathias was dead, Adam had been arrested, and Jonah Slater was alive. The entire Slater empire had been turned upside down, and much of it was due to the delicate and lovely woman beside him.

  “Do you think I should call Julie?”

  Out of all the things that had happened, seeing Julie again was the one thing Kennedy seemed the most focused on.

  “When you’re feeling better, we’ll go see her.”

  “I feel so badly for treating her that way, but I had no choice.”

  “And I’m sure she’ll understand that.”

  “What in the world was she doing here in Dallas anyway?”

  Since he didn’t want to spoil a surprise that he hoped would be happening soon, he shrugged and said vaguely, “Must’ve been the fundraiser. Remember I told you she had been elected to some charity boards?”

  Kennedy nodded. “I guess so. I just hate that I was so rude to her. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

  About to reassure her again, he stopped abruptly when the television attached to the wall across from them showed the face of Mathias Slater. Nick grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

  “The state…the entire country is mourning the loss of multibillionaire Mathias Slater, who was found murdered in his home last night with a gunshot wound to his chest. No suspects have been arrested, but there is strong speculation that a longtime employee, Cyrus Denton, was responsible for his death.

  “In an apparently unrelated event, Denton was reportedly shot to death in an attempt to kill Nick Gallagher, a former Houston homicide detective, who was working undercover. There are unconfirmed reports that Gallagher was on special assignment with the Dallas Police Department.

  “Additionally, Adam Slater, son of Mathias, has been arrested on drug-trafficking charges. As our viewers may remember, three years ago Jonah Slater, Adam Slater’s youngest brother, was tried and convicted of smuggling drugs into the United States from El Salvador and was sentenced to twenty years in prison. A source close to the investigation has revealed that evidence was found in Adam Slater’s office showing that he framed his brother for the crime and was the actual perpetrator.

  “Jonah Slater was believed to have been murdered in prison only a few weeks ago, but in a stunning development, it has been revealed that his death was faked. Though Slater was rearrested, he is out on bond and is reportedly at an undisclosed location with the rest of his family.

  “Adam Slater has also been charged with conspiracy to commit murder of Houston Police Detective Thomas O’Connell, who was killed two years ago in what was thought to be an armed robbery attempt. Additional charges linking Slater to the murder of three young men of the Delano gang in Houston are pending. We will continue to keep you updated as more developments are uncovered.

  “Now, for a look at today’s weather, let’s go to…”

  Nick clicked mute on the remote and glanced over at Kennedy. She was still too damn pale for his liking, but her bright smile reassured him.

  “I still can’t believe Jonah is alive. Did you know about it?”

  Nick shook his head. “Had no idea. I talked
to Justice last night. He got the information a week or so ago and shared it with Eli. They wanted to keep it to themselves until we could get what we needed on Adam.”

  “Where on earth did the police get all that evidence on Adam? We searched every place we knew to look.”

  “That’s a question even Adam is asking,” a male voice said.

  Their eyes turned to the door, where Grey Justice stood, holding a large fruit basket. He squeezed his gift between a potted plant and a bouquet of daisies, then turned to Kennedy. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sore but incredibly, astoundingly, fabulously wonderful, too.”

  “You did an outstanding job.” He shot Nick a glance. “You both did.”

  “How’s Adam?” Kennedy asked.

  “Broken nose, three chipped teeth, busted mouth, cracked ribs, along with an agonizing groin injury he’s going to feel for weeks. He’s on the second floor, handcuffed to his hospital bed and crying for his daddy.”

  Nick had no sympathy for the bastard. If it had been his choice, Adam would have been rotting in hell with Mathias.

  “So, where did the evidence on Adam come from?”

  “No one seems to know. My sources tell me files detailing numerous illegal activities were in plain sight at all three of his offices, including the secret one he thought no one could find.”

  “You have some theories?” Nick asked.

  “Yes. Both Eli and I think that Mathias had the evidence planted. Adam had earned his father’s displeasure by losing over two million dollars. Mathias was nothing if not creative in the punishment of his sons who displeased him.”

  “So he was going to frame Adam?” Kennedy said.

  “Looks like it. Since Jonah was dead, Mathias probably got a kick from the ironic twist. He could use the same crime and frame his other son, too.”

  Kennedy nodded. “And he could also get all sorts of sympathy for having a son who had been convicted of a crime he didn’t commit and then murdered. That’s the kind of publicity he would have eaten up.”

  “Exactly,” Justice said.

  “That was one sick bastard,” Nick said.

  “Yes, but no longer physically sick. Apparently, the real reason he went out of the country last month was for an experimental treatment. It worked.”

  “Meaning he felt free to punish his son since he was going to live,” Nick said.

  “That’s the theory. Hard to know for sure what was going on in his devious mind.”

  “So why did Cyrus Denton kill Mathias? Does anyone know?” Kennedy asked.

  “The dead tell no tales,” Justice said. “Evidence suggests they had a falling out, and Denton shot Mathias in the chest. There were no witnesses.”

  His cop’s instinct kicked hard. “What evidence?” Nick said.

  Justice looked him straight in the eyes. “Several of the servants said they heard the two shouting, then a gunshot. Mathias was found dead on the floor, and Denton was nowhere in sight.”

  As a homicide detective, Nick had investigated too many murders to accept such threadbare details. Justice was a damn good poker player but was hiding something. Who was he protecting? Had Jonah killed his father in retribution for Teri Burke’s death?

  “I’m sure Eleanor and DeAnne Slater are in shock,” Kennedy said. “How are they holding up?”

  “About as well as you could imagine under the circumstances. Even though Mathias was responsible for so much death and destruction, bringing all of that out in the open would serve no purpose. Eleanor has suffered enough already. What’s done is done. Mathias is in hell where he belongs.”

  “So what happens, now? Will Jonah be completely exonerated?”

  “Not yet, but he will be soon. With the evidence Mathias so kindly provided for us, Adam will be charged with those crimes, along with being responsible for your husband’s murder. The recording you made of his confession sealed his fate on that.”

  “What about those three gang members the news reporter mentioned?” Kennedy asked. “Why were they killed?”

  “That was my last case before I was shot,” Nick said. “I suspected it wasn’t just a gang shooting but could never uncover what happened. One of the men—Frankie Chavez—was a friend of Jonah’s, wasn’t he, Justice?”

  “No. He was a low-life snitch for Cyrus Denton, but when Adam didn’t get everyone out of the way as quickly as his father thought he should have, Mathias ordered the kid killed, along with two of his friends.”

  “So, basically, Mathias cleaned up his son’s mess and cleaned house,” Nick said.

  “So it seems.”

  Though it galled that Mathias Slater would never pay publicly for his crimes, Nick had never been happier over someone’s death. The bastard’s evil reign was finally over.

  Justice glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an appointment across town, so I’ll leave you two alone. When things settle down and you’re feeling better, Kennedy, I’d like to discuss some employment opportunities. If you’re interested.”

  She glanced over at Nick and smiled. “Thank you, but I think my undercover days are over.”

  “There are lots of other opportunities that don’t involve undercover work. Specialty jobs I think you would enjoy.”

  “Then, yes, I’d definitely like to talk with you.”

  “Excellent.” He put his hand on the door and then glanced back over his shoulder. “By the way, there’s a young woman outside who seems rather anxious to see you.”

  “Irelyn?”

  A bleak look appeared in the man’s eyes for barely a second. “No. It’s someone you didn’t get to speak with last night.”

  Nick released a relieved breath and smiled his appreciation. He’d made the call early this morning but wasn’t sure it would work out. Justice had used his contacts to uncover the hotel where the one person he knew Kennedy was dying to see was staying.

  The instant the door opened, a frazzled-looking, sobbing Julie rushed into the room. Her arms open wide, she squealed, “Kennedy…I knew it was you!”

  Feeling like a brand new person, Kennedy parked in her driveway and allowed herself a moment to savor the sensation. A day at the spa doing nothing other than “spa” things had done wonders. Two nights at the hospital plus an emotional reunion with Julie, followed by several exhaustive days of police and news reporter interviews had taken their toll. Last night, when Nick had presented her with a complimentary spa day, she’d practically screamed with gratitude.

  The massage, facial, mani-pedi, mud bath, and herbal skin treatment had left her skin glowing, her muscles relaxed and her energy renewed, but it was the hair treatment that she was the most excited about. What would Nick think?

  The instant the door opened, she knew something had changed. What, she didn’t yet know, but there was a different atmosphere. She took three steps into her foyer and skidded to a stop. Nick stood at the entrance to her living room. She’d never seen that look on his face before—a mixture of uncertainty, nerves, and love.

  “Did you enjoy your day?”

  She beamed at him. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Your hair. You changed it back.”

  Self-conscious, she touched her newly darkened tresses. Though still short, she loved returning to her natural color. “Do you like it? Or do you prefer a blonde?”

  “I prefer you any way I can get you. But I’m glad to see your natural color.”

  “It feels good to be getting back to normal.” She frowned and looked around. Everything seemed the same but not. “What’s going on?”

  “I did something today. If you don’t like it, we can change it back.”

  “You do know there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less. Right?”

  His cocky grin returned. “Good to know.”

  Backing away from her, he said, “Come on in.”

  More curious than ever, she went toward him and then stopped at the entrance to her living room. Where before it had been sparsely
furnished and decorated, the room was now full. But not just full…it was full of her home from Houston. The things she’d had to leave behind when she’d left. The grandfather clock that had hung in the entry way was now over her mantel, the large screen television and DVD player from her living room now sat in the corner. Three boxes of books had been placed in front of the bookshelves, just waiting to be categorized and shelved.

  Her throat threatening to close with emotion, she said huskily, “You’ve been busy.”

  “We never talked about it, but I figured you had your stuff put in storage.” He shrugged. “I wanted to give you back as much as I could. Most of the stuff I had moved to a storage facility about five miles from here, but I had a few things delivered I thought you might like.”

  “How did you know where to look?”

  “Not too many people in Houston have the name Casper Scooby.”

  Casper the Friendly Ghost and Scooby-Doo had been her favorite cartoons when she was a child, before she’d lost her parents. When she had arranged for her house to be emptied and her things stored, she had used those two names as much for comfort as anything else.

  “There’s so much you know about me. Things I barely remember myself.”

  “There’s a whole lot more I want to know…if you’ll let me.”

  “And there’s tons more I want to know about you.”

  Wickedness in his eyes, he held open his arms. “I’m an open book. Come read me.”

  She flew toward him, and he caught her close, capturing her mouth with his. How she loved this man who had loved her for so long, searched for her, and helped her find justice for Thomas.

  His lips, tender and passionate, stayed on hers as he swept her up and carried her into the bedroom. Laying her on the bed, he settled beside her and propped himself on one elbow. His eyes roamed over her, loving, adoring, the need in them sending a flood of heat through her bloodstream.