Whatever It Takes 2

by Christy Reece

  Shaking her head at the unexpectedness of life, she let herself into her apartment and went straight to the almost nonexistent kitchen. Thankful she’d remembered to fill the ice trays, she set about making an ice pack.

  Easing onto the sofa, she propped her ankle onto the arm and placed the makeshift ice pack onto her ankle, hissing at the sting.

  The adrenaline rush now gone, she leaned back against the cushion and allowed her thoughts to return to what Alice had told her. The horrendous truth couldn’t be pushed away. Her sister had indirectly been responsible for what had happened in Denver. A child had almost died. And Kathleen had…well, she’d almost lost everything, too.

  After working so hard for it, she’d finally achieved the security and life she wanted. A successful career, a home of her own, and what she’d thought was a mature and responsible man to share her life with. All the things she had dreamed of as a kid had been hers.

  She still remembered the moment when it had all been destroyed. She and Emily had been walking across the street, heading to a large department store for a day of shopping. She had been hyperalert as usual, had been so damn careful of any possible threats. The next thing she knew, she and Emily were flying through the air.

  Kathleen remembered little of what happened next, but thankfully, instinct and training had taken over. She vaguely remembered landing on the sidewalk with a terrifying crunch, several feet away from where they’d been. She was thankful she hadn’t passed out and had been able to crawl to Emily, who had been lying in a pool of blood. The young girl had been bleeding profusely from a puncture in an artery in her arm. Kathleen had stanched the flow of blood until help arrived. Though she had been credited with saving Emily’s life, Kathleen had felt responsible. The girl had been under her protection, and she had failed.

  The driver had sped off. The vague descriptions from eyewitnesses had been no help.

  Though Emily’s injury had been life threatening, she had been on her feet within a few days and had left the hospital with only a broken arm and a few stitches.

  Kathleen hadn’t been so lucky. After weeks in the hospital, multiple surgeries, and months of extensive physical therapy, she had returned home. Though the recovery was painful, her confidence had suffered the most serious damage.

  And then there was Stan.

  Stan Dempsey, her weasel of a fiancé, had stuck with her for a few weeks, but his devotion and patience began to wane. He had most certainly not wanted to be stuck with a wife who had a ton of medical bills, months of physical therapy, and a possible limp.

  Not that he’d used that particular reason for their break-up. The “we’ve grown apart” excuse worked so well with so many different scenarios. She’d just looked at him blankly when he’d uttered those words and had barely shed a tear when he’d walked away.

  Learning his true nature before she’d made the ultimate mistake of marrying him was a blessing.

  And now she was left with this awful, painful truth. She took a deep breath, let it out, then another one for good measure. Okay, yes, knowing who was behind the hit-and-run and what had precipitated the event, infuriated her and hurt her in a way she hadn’t believed she could still be hurt, but what was the point in crying about it, dwelling on it? It was done. She had moved on…or at least she was still moving.

  Truth was, if she’d reached out to Alice, all of this might have been prevented. Pride, and maybe sheer selfishness on her part, had kept her away from her sister. What would have happened if, instead of arguing and telling her sister how very immature she was acting, she had stayed close to her? Instead, Kathleen, with her self-righteous anger and arrogant pride, had stayed in Denver and concentrated on her own life. Now, Alice was in more trouble than either of them could have ever fathomed.

  She had to find a way to prove Alice’s innocence. The thought of her baby sister going to prison wasn’t something she could begin to contemplate. Prison had changed their fun-loving, good-humored father into a grim-faced stranger. Daniel Callahan had been scarred by his experience. So much so that a large part of Kathleen believed he had jumped into the river instead of falling, as the authorities claimed. If prison had done that to him, what would it do to Alice? No matter what she had to do, Kathleen couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Cook County Courthouse

  Chicago

  The moment she had been both dreading and anticipating had finally arrived. The jury had been deliberating for three days. She believed, and Tony agreed, that the length of time was a good thing. If it took that long to make a decision, then there was obviously doubt in the jury’s mind.

  Kathleen had been living one day at a time, but she’d been making plans. First, her sister would be freed from that hellhole she’d been living in for the past few months. Then, she and Alice would move back to Denver. They would find an apartment together. Kathleen was sure she could get her old job back. And Alice was still so young. She could go back to college. Or, if she didn’t want to do that, she could find a job she enjoyed. She could have a fulfilling, successful life. Soon, this would all be behind them and they could both start living again.

  She sat in the front row, behind Alice, just as she had every hour of the trial. Tony had called twenty-five minutes ago and told her to get to the courthouse, pronto, that the jury had reached a decision. Her body was a mangled knot of nerves, every muscle clenched, as she recited a mantra over and over in her head: not guilty, not guilty, not guilty.

  The courtroom was full. Frank Braden had been a wealthy man, and the way he was killed brought out both the curious and the morbid. Since neither the judge nor the jury had come into the room, people chatted with each other as if it were a social gathering. Kathleen was one of the few who sat quiet and still. Outwardly, she knew she appeared stoic and confident, a façade she’d perfected years ago. Her mind, however, felt as though it would facture into a thousand different pieces if she dared to breathe the wrong way.

  A door swung open, and the jury marched out. Kathleen tried to read their faces, but either she’d lost her touch or they’d been told to maintain blank expressions. Not one of them gave her any idea what to expect.

  When a jury looked at the defendant as they made their way to their seats, it often meant good things for the defense. Not one of them even glanced toward Alice as they walked to the jury box. Kathleen told herself it meant nothing. That thinking wasn’t scientific fact. There was no way her sister would be found guilty. Justice would be served today. She believed in the process and was sure it wouldn’t let them down.

  A painful, rhythmic pattern pounded in her chest. She swung her gaze over to Alice and almost cried out loud when she saw her sister visibly shaking in her chair. Dammit, she was only twenty-two years old. On trial for a crime she didn’t commit. This was so damn unfair. The jury had to see that. They had to!

  The judge walked in, and at the “All rise” from the bailiff, the courtroom rose as one.

  Looking both stern and pompous, the judge strode to his bench and seated himself. Everyone followed suit. Several long seconds passed, and Kathleen got the idea the judge was enjoying the anticipatory feeling of the crowd. It was like a football game with only a few seconds left in the fourth quarter, fourth down and only inches to go to make a touchdown. One team would have all their hopes realized, the other would have all their hopes dashed.

  But, dammit, this was no game. Her sister’s life was hanging in the balance. She was at the point of standing and yelling at the judge to get on with it when he intoned, “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

  Kathleen heard nothing more after that. The roaring in her ears was a steady thrum of white noise. The only words she wanted to hear, prayed to hear, were “not guilty.” Anything else would be unacceptable.

  She watched as her sister stood, barely noting that Tony had to hold her elbow to steady her.

  And still they waited. Kathleen’s eyes kept going to the judge, then the jury, back to her sister. Back and forth, and th
en again.

  Why didn’t they just say it? Why all this pomp and circumstance? Why all this drama? Didn’t they realize what was at stake? Didn’t they see what this was doing to Alice?

  “We find the defendant, Alice Callahan, guilty.”

  Kathleen jerked. No…it couldn’t be. Everything around her darkened as her world narrowed to a pinpoint of light.

  “Breathe.”

  The deep voice broke through the fog of panic, but her brain refused to comprehend. He said it again, this time with more force. “Breathe, Kathleen. Dammit. Breathe.”

  Numb, she turned to the man beside her—barely comprehending that he was familiar. The stranger who’d helped her in the parking lot. Why was he here? What had he said?

  She took in the warm, compassionate brown eyes but couldn’t comprehend the message they seemed to be sending her. She was so confused. Couldn’t think what to say. Could not even fathom why he was here.

  Her dazed attention moved back to the proceedings in front of her. The judge was polling the jury. Why did they keep saying the same word over and over again?

  The man beside her took her hand, squeezed it gently, and said gruffly, “Stay strong.”

  Before she could react, he stood and walked away.

  Stay strong. Strong? How was that possible? The only person she had left in the world, the only person she loved, had just been found guilty of a crime she didn’t commit. Her sweet baby sister would be going to prison…possibly for the rest of her life. How could this possibly be happening? How could this get any worse?

  Kathleen shook her head rapidly to clear it. No. She would fall apart later, on her own time. For right now, Alice needed her. She had let her down too much already. She wouldn’t fail her again.

  As if she knew what her sister was feeling, Alice turned around and gave Kathleen a brave, tremulous smile. Her eyes told a different story—she was terrified.

  Kathleen mouthed the words, Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. I love you.

  Alice’s smile widened. Shoulders straight, she bravely turned back to face the judge.

  Kathleen’s thoughts whirled with all that needed to be done. Of course this wasn’t over. They would appeal. They would fight this and win. She didn’t care what she had to do, who she had to beg and plead for help, this was not over.

  Odd noises erupted to the left, behind her. Screams and shouts. Kathleen looked over her shoulder. A woman stood at a side door. In seconds, Kathleen took in her appearance. Mid-twenties, long blond hair, pale, distressed face. Her mouth crimped with emotion, a crazed, desperate look in her eyes.

  Kathleen stood, automatically recognizing a threat but unsure of the target.

  “This is for Frank!” the woman shouted. Then, as if in slow motion, she lifted her arm and pointed a gun directly at Alice.

  “Alice! Get down!” Kathleen dove across the railing.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  A split second too late, one second too slow.

  They fell to the floor together with Kathleen’s body covering Alice. Turning, she looked over to where the woman stood. The gun was still raised, still pointing at them. She was going to fire again! Why didn’t somebody stop her?

  Pop. Pop.

  The sound was different. Kathleen dimly registered the shot had come from a different weapon. She eased off Alice and whispered harshly, “Alice? Are you okay? Alice? Sweetie?”

  Kathleen knelt on the floor beside her sister. Alice lay facedown, while blood pooled around her fragile, lifeless body.

  Chapter Five

  Grande Lakes Hospital

  Chicago

  Dressed in a white nurse’s uniform, the beautiful woman swayed her shapely hips in a sexy, swinging rhythm even as her steps were brisk, determined. She knew how to emulate, mostly by practice. This particular role was easier than most. She’d spent plenty of time in hospitals to know how medical professionals behaved and acted. This was an easy gig.

  So what if the job hadn’t been completely successful? Hadn’t her friend, mentor, and trainer taught her the all-important mantra for an assassin? If at first you don’t succeed, you damn well better the second time.

  Sending in an amateur to make the kill was always a risk. Most times it worked like a charm. She had learned from the best. Her mentor had been the king of murder by proxy. She could only hope that someday she could be half as good as he had been. It would be a tribute to the man who had given her so much.

  She shook off the melancholy. Not only was she the least sentimental person to ever exist, she had a role to play, a job to get done, a contract to fulfill.

  A caring and compassionate demeanor firmly in place, she stopped at the door to Room 3242, assigned to Alice Callahan.

  “I need to see some ID.”

  Her smile never wavered as she flipped her name badge toward him. Situated right above her left breast, the fake badge was the best she had been able to come up with on short notice. However, she knew her target audience. Right beside the nametag was, unarguably, one of the most impressive cleavages this man would ever set eyes upon. She was counting on any deficiencies in the name badge to be offset by the spectacular view. When his gaze barely glanced at the badge before moving over and then down, she knew she was home free.

  It amused her that a police guard was even here. The woman had a bullet fragment hovering right next to her heart. So close the doctors feared removing it would kill her. All manner of specialists had been called in and were in the process of consulting on how to proceed. Just how dangerous could the woman be? Besides, even in a perfectly healthy state, Alice Callahan was, in her opinion, the stupidest kind of female. She had let a man use her and had gotten nothing for herself. What a waste.

  “May I go in?”

  The guard jerked his eyes away from the impressive view, and a flush of bright red painted his face. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

  Her smile now cool and professional, she pushed opened the door. Flirting with him would be superfluous.

  She walked into the room, closed the door behind her. Knowing she had a limited amount of time didn’t concern her in the least. She had accomplished tougher jobs with much greater time constraints.

  She stood over Alice and watched her sleep for a second. Such a pretty thing. Too bad she had been too stupid to use what she had to her advantage. Not that she cared, but in a way she was doing the young woman a favor. In her book, stupidity was the most incurable disease of all.

  Withdrawing the syringe from her pocket, she injected the poison into the IV drip. It wasn’t fast acting, nor would it be painful. Making the girl suffer wasn’t part of the contract. Termination without suspicion was the goal. The doctors would assume their patient died from the fragment dislodging and hitting the heart. And it would dislodge, because they would try to save her. Any autopsy performed would show that the fragment had indeed penetrated the heart. The only way anyone would know that Alice had died from something else was if a specific blood test was performed. And since there was no need for that test, she was confident all medical professionals involved would determine the bullet fragment, and nothing else, killed Alice.

  So intent on inserting all of the liquid into the IV, she was startled to look up and see Alice’s eyes open. Blue eyes, glazed and kind of sweet looking, blinked up at her.

  “So…tired.”

  “Are you, dearie?” She smiled with gentle compassion. “I’m here to make you all better.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Her eyes searched the room. “Where’s…Kathleen?”

  “Your sister is talking to your doctors.”

  “Miss…her.”

  She leaned over the girl and gently brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Don’t worry, my dearest. Kathleen will join you very soon. I promise. Now go back to sleep. All will be better soon.”

  “‘Umm...’kay.” Alice sighed slightly as her eyes drifted shut.

  Pocketing the empty syringe, she gently patted Alice’s baby-soft cheek an
d then walked out the door.

  On the floor above, five doctors, along with Alice’s sister, were deep in discussion on how to save the girl’s life. Wasn’t it nice that she had taken the problem out of their hands?

  Kathleen’s mind was so full of information she thought it might explode any second. Five doctors sat at a conference table and argued back and forth over the best options for Alice. While much of the medical jargon was over her head, she understood the gist of the discussion, as well as the consequences. Two doctors believed Alice should be operated on immediately. Two wanted to wait until her vital signs stabilized. The fifth didn’t believe she would last through the night.

  She wasn’t sure how it happened that five doctors, three from another hospital, had examined Alice and offered their recommendations. She was just grateful for their interest. There was no easy answer, though, and she prayed for their wisdom in making the right decision.

  The shooter had been identified as Maureen Downey, a lingerie model, and apparently a former lover of Frank Braden’s. No one knew how she had gotten inside the courtroom with a gun. No one knew for sure why she had wanted to kill Alice. Had she really been avenging her former lover? A man who was a known abuser of women? Unfortunately, no one would be able to ask her, as she had died instantly from her gunshot wounds.

  Everything inside Kathleen felt as brittle as thin ice. With every breath she took, she just knew her fragile veneer of control would crack and she would come apart, disintegrate.

  Alice had woken twice since she had arrived at the hospital. Both times Kathleen had been there to reassure her, tell her that she loved her, tell her that everything was going to be okay. But she’d lied. She was lying the whole time. It wasn’t going to be okay. Her little sister was going to die, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.