Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel

by Christy Reece

  “Some guy’s on the phone, asking for you. Says it’s urgent. I’m sending it over.”

  Nick barely grunted an acknowledgment. Phone to his ear, he growled, “Gallagher.”

  “Uh…this Nick Gallagher?

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  He heard what sounded like a nervous swallow, then, “Thomas O’Connell’s friend?”

  Nick stiffened, his attention now fully on the caller. “That’s right.”

  “Um, I got some information.”

  “Information about what?”

  “I can’t say over the phone.”

  “You’d damn well better say something. You called me.”

  “Can we meet?”

  “Not until I know what this is about.”

  A long pause followed. Was this some kind of crank call?

  “I think Detective O’Connell’s murder was a hit.”

  Nick was on his feet before he realized it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “That’s all I’m going to say over the phone.”

  “Where and when?”

  “In half an hour. Doug’s Diner at the corner of Fifty-Fourth and Archer. Come alone.”

  Though a dial tone followed, telling him the guy had hung up the phone, Nick continued to hold the receiver. He looked around at the desks and people surrounding him. They were all going about their business while his entire universe had shifted yet again. His gut instinct had been sound. Thomas’s murder had been a hit. By whom? And why?

  Kennedy stood at the entrance to the safe-deposit room. She had ignored the frowns of the bank employees who wanted to lock the doors. They were justifiable since she had arrived five minutes before the bank was due to close. That couldn’t be helped. Assuring the young bank employee that she wouldn’t take long, she showed her identification and within seconds was led to the room. Inserting her key, she waited for the young woman to insert the bank’s key. She heard the click as it opened and was surprised at the rapid beat of her heart. What on earth could Thomas have wanted to hide?

  Telling herself she would be prepared for and could handle anything, she pulled the box out, opened the top and stared at the contents. Two envelopes. One letter-size, with her name scrawled on the front in Thomas’s scratchy handwriting, the other brown, legal-size and very thick.

  Whatever these envelopes held had been important to Thomas and so private, he’d felt the need to hide them. With the knowledge that her perception of her life with Thomas might well change, and refusing to allow that to happen in a bank, Kennedy dropped the letter-size envelope into her purse. The larger one wouldn’t fit, so she clutched it to her chest and hurried out of the bank. She would go home and open the envelopes in private.

  The instant she stepped outside, a clap of thunder blasted overhead. Already jittery nerves ramped up to warp speed. Heart pounding, she raced to her car, barely making it inside before the sky opened up and torrential rain exploded as if a dam had burst in heaven.

  Despite the frantic need to get home, Kennedy took a moment to calm down. This was all so silly. The envelopes were probably nothing more than some stocks Thomas had forgotten to mention to her. Or maybe he’d planned to surprise her on their anniversary with an island he’d bought in the Caribbean.

  Her heart lightening slightly at the whimsical thought, she cranked the engine and pulled from the parking lot onto the street streaming with traffic. She was overreacting because her emotions were on edge…it was nothing more than that.

  Traffic was now in full rush-hour frenzy. With the heavy rain, it would take twice as long to get home. Stop-and-start traffic continued for what seemed like hours. Fifteen minutes in this mess, and she had traveled about five miles. The tension in her shoulders and back had returned. By the time she made it home, she’d be one giant knot of nerves.

  The windshield wipers beat with a furious, frenetic pace as they tried to keep up with the heavy deluge pouring down on them. Hoping to get out of the traffic gridlock, Kennedy made a right turn onto Elk Road. Any other time she would have taken the interstate, but at this time of day and with this weather, it would be one giant parking lot. This two-lane road was bumpy, curvy and not a straight shot home, but at least she was moving forward.

  Darkness had swallowed all light, and her headlights barely penetrated the thick curtain of rain. With total focus on the road ahead of her, she had no clue of danger until something slammed into her rear bumper. Suddenly, instead of heading straight on Elk, she was skidding sideways. Horns blared a warning. Oncoming traffic was within mere seconds of crashing into her.

  On instinct, Kennedy punched the gas and shot forward, passing within inches of the semitruck barreling straight for her. She let out a little scream, realizing the only thing in front of her was a giant gaping hole of nothingness. The bridge! She was going off the bridge into the bayou below!

  With all the strength she could muster, Kennedy wrenched the steering wheel to the right. Even as she prayed to avoid going into the bayou, she also prayed that she didn’t hit some unsuspecting driver going the other way. Either one could mean certain death. At the last minute, she closed her eyes, braced herself for the end result.

  The car came to a crashing, shuddering stop. Opening her eyes, she gazed around, amazed. She had somehow avoided both scenarios and found herself on a grassy area several yards away from where she’d spun out of control. Other than the terror-laced adrenaline still rushing through her veins, she was safe, unharmed.

  Her eyes took in the area around her. What had seemed like an eternity had probably happened in a matter of seconds. And despite coming within a hair of dying a horrific death, she watched the traffic continue to flow as if nothing had happened.

  Willing her heart to slow, she took in another breath. As she did, the event prior to her losing control of the car halted the breath. Someone had hit her from behind.

  Movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. A man was running toward her car. Darkness and heavy rain obscured his face, but she could tell he was focused on her. Was he the one who’d hit her?

  In seconds he had reached her car. Expecting him to come around to the driver’s side and ask if she was okay, she was startled when he pulled on the handle at the passenger door. Without thinking anything of it, she flipped the lock.

  The door was jerked open, and a face appeared before her. Kennedy gasped and jerked back. Not a face. A man wearing a ski mask.

  “You should be dead.”

  “What?”

  He glanced behind him and cursed. Turning back to her, he spoke in a soft, menacing tone, “This was a freebie, little lady. You won’t get a second chance.” He grabbed the large envelope from the seat beside her and shoved it beneath his jacket. “You tell anyone about this, you and whoever you tell is dead. If you’re smart, you’ll forget this ever happened.” With that, he turned and ran away.

  “Hey! Wait! You can’t just—”

  A fist pounded on the driver’s window. Swallowing a scream, Kennedy twisted around. A man shouted, “Are you all right?”

  She hit the button, allowing the window to open only a crack and said shakily, “Yes…I’m fine.” Turning her head again, she searched for the man who’d just stolen the envelope. “That man…did you see him? He stole my—”

  The man looked up toward the road and muttered a vicious curse. His attention returned to her. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, I’m just—” Before she could finish her sentence, the man turned away and disappeared. Stunned, she could barely comprehend what had just happened. Someone had tried to kill her. Had threatened her. And had stolen one of the envelopes.

  And the second man—the one who’d asked if she was all right. It had been too dark to see his face, but she would recognize that accent anywhere. He was the man who’d taken her to the hospital.

  What the hell was going on?

  Unwilling to have someone else come to the car, Kennedy eased her foot on the gas ped
al and was relieved to feel the tires gain traction. She drove up to the road, and the instant a break appeared in the traffic, she zoomed back onto the roadway and headed home.

  Ten minutes later, she parked in her garage. Rushing inside, she locked the door leading to the garage and turned on the security system, then made a mad dash to the kitchen, where she pulled open the drawer beside the refrigerator and removed the handgun Thomas had given her not long after they met. With quick efficiency, she made sure it was loaded. Still not feeling comfortable, she ran from room to room and ensured that all outside doors and windows were locked, all blinds closed.

  Back in the kitchen, she stood in the middle of the room and finally allowed herself a long, ragged, relieved breath, feeling a slight sense of safety. Whatever was going on, she vowed never to be so unprepared again.

  Her eyes shifted to her purse she’d dropped on the table. She still had the small envelope from Thomas. More than ever, she knew the contents wouldn’t be just anything. Whatever had been in the lock box was something someone had been willing to kill for.

  Determined to be in the dark no longer, Kennedy plopped down at the table and pulled the envelope from her purse. Her hands shaking, she withdrew a letter from Thomas, noting it was dated the day before he died. She took a breath and read:

  My darling Kennedy,

  If you’re reading this letter, then it means that I have screwed up massively. It was never my intent to put you in harm’s way. I am so very sorry for pursuing something that has obviously cost me my life. However, it will not cost you or our child your lives.

  With the information attached to this letter, you will find everything you need to ensure your safety.

  Before I begin my explanation, I am begging your forgiveness for causing you heartache and putting our family’s lives in danger. You deserve only happiness and I have taken that away from you.

  A little over a year ago, I worked a case involving Jonah Slater. He was convicted of drug trafficking and is now in prison. I always thought the case was fishy—too easy. After his conviction, I began my own secret investigation of the Slater family. The more I dug, the more I realized that the family is up to their eyeballs in more crimes than I ever imagined, yet I had no substantial proof. Yesterday all of that changed and many of my suspicions were confirmed.

  Within the large envelope is enough dirt on the Slaters to ensure a thorough investigation and hopefully several convictions.

  Tell no one but Nick about this. He’s the only man I trust to do what needs to be done. He knows nothing about it yet. I texted him that I had something but then I got to thinking that my phone and computer might be compromised. I suspect the Slaters have eyes and ears everywhere. Please tell him how sorry I am for not being able to tell him sooner. He’ll be mad as hell, with good reason.

  Once you give the information to Nick, I want you to leave Houston. You and our child are my life. I love you both more than anything and therefore must protect you at all cost. The actions I want you to take will break several laws. I don’t care. They are for your protection. I have listed everything you must do, the order you must do it, and the people you can trust to carry it out. I know this will be difficult for you, but it’s the only way to ensure the safety of you and our child.

  I know what you’re saying to yourself right now. That it’s not possible. That you don’t want a new life. That you can stay safe. I am telling you that you cannot. Someone will come for you, Kennedy. I know they will. If I am dead, it was because of the Slaters. I can’t bear for anything to happen to you. Tell no one what you’re going to do…not even Nick. If he knows, then you’ll be putting your life and possibly his in jeopardy. Take each step in the order I’ve given you and don’t look back. Your safety must be the only priority.

  In closing, my darling, I beg your forgiveness again. You gave me such joy in our life and if I had known that my investigation would endanger what I treasured most, I would have dropped it. I will love you long past eternity.

  Yours forever, Thomas

  Kennedy’s heart pounded so hard, she feared it might explode. But Thomas’s death had been a random robbery. Hadn’t it? He had tried to stop a man with a gun at the grocery store.

  Could that have been faked or set up? She knew little to nothing about hired killers, but didn’t they usually take the shot and run? They didn’t try to rob grocery stores, and they most certainly didn’t stick around and get killed, too.

  But…what if someone had wanted it to look like a random act of violence? If so, why would the man who killed Thomas sacrifice his own life? Or had he not been meant to die?

  Her thoughts scattering in a thousand different directions, Kennedy pushed her fingers through her hair. How had she not known about Thomas’s investigation? She had slept beside him every night. They had talked endlessly on a variety of different matters regarding his job. No subject was off-limits for them. They had shared every secret. Thomas had always been honest and up front with her. How could he have kept this from her?

  If he had been so worried for her safety, why had he hidden the key from her? She’d only found it by chance. Had he meant to give it to her and hid it away until an opportune moment? Even with the dire warnings in the letter, perhaps even Thomas hadn’t realized just how much danger he was in.

  And now what was she to do? Thomas wanted her to begin a new life? Get a new identity?

  A wave of fury swept through her. This time it was directed at one person only. Thomas. He had done this to them. If he had just let things go, he would still be alive. Their baby might still be alive. Instead of being totally alone, she’d still have her beloved family, her happy home. How could she not be furious with him?

  She brushed aside the anger. That would have to wait. Feeling as though a new destiny awaited her, Kennedy began to look through the pages attached to the letter. Her eyes scanned the lengthy and detailed list Thomas had provided. A new identity, with a new name, birth certificate, Social Security number, etc. Everything she would need to become someone else and the names of people who could apparently make that happen.

  Additionally, he had listed diversionary tactics for her to use to ensure she wouldn’t be followed, along with names of people who would assist her with that, too.

  He had thought of everything, and even though it was obvious what Thomas wanted her to do, this had to be her decision. Her choice, no matter which one she chose, would be monumental. Stay and fight, putting her life and those she cared about in danger? Run and hide, change her identity and start all over again?

  Or was there a third possibility?

  Despite her disappointment and anger at Thomas, the blame wasn’t his. It belonged to the Slater family. These people obviously believed they could do anything they wanted and get away with it. She refused to allow them to have control over her life. They were finished playing God.

  She had to call Nick and give him what information she knew. It wasn’t much. Apparently, what had been in the large envelope was what had gotten Thomas killed. But, still, Nick needed to know what had happened. Then she would do what she had to do to survive.

  The man who’d run her off the road had been trying to kill her—his words had indicated as much. It was beyond a miracle that she wasn’t dead. He had obviously known what was inside the envelope he stole. But how had he known that she would go to the bank today? Or that she had found a lock-box key?

  She froze as the answer came to her with the force of a wrecking ball: She was being watched. There was no other explanation. Somehow they knew she had found the key and was going after the information Thomas had hidden. If that was the case, it could mean only one thing. There were cameras inside her house. Sweet Lord!

  Suddenly, she felt their eyes on her. Who were they? The Slaters? Someone who worked for them? Thomas had feared they had eyes and ears everywhere. Had they been able to read the letter? Did the man know he hadn’t taken the only information Thomas had left? Were they coming for her?


  Should she just run out of the house now? Take nothing and leave forever?

  She took a breath to steady herself. Yes, she did need to leave but not in a panic. Even though she felt that any second armed gunmen would burst through her door, Kennedy calmly stood and walked upstairs. She packed quickly and efficiently, taking only what she felt she couldn’t live without.

  Gun in one hand, a large suitcase in the other, she went into the garage. Hoping to time it just right, she cranked the car and pressed the garage door opener. The instant the doors were clear, she backed out and then zoomed out of the driveway. Thankfully the rain had stopped, but clouds covered the sky, making for an ink-dark night. Were they following her? Every headlight behind her had her tensing up. Would the man who’d slammed his car into hers try to finish the job?

  Finally miles away from her house, with no visible car following her, Kennedy allowed herself to think about her next move. A plan began to form—one that would most certainly have horrified Thomas. She had no experience in things like this. She was a law student, not a cop. But she was something else, too—a born researcher. How many times had the law firms she freelanced for told her she was worth her weight in all the information she supplied them? She knew how to dig deep for obscure information. She could do this.

  But could she really? Did she have the stamina? The courage to see it through? A small voice inside her screamed a resounding, Yes! She had already lost the love of her life and her precious child. Everything she had always dreamed of having had been taken from her. She had nothing left to lose. It was time to turn the tables and take her power back. So, could she really do this? The answer came in a firm, definitive: Oh hell yes, she could. And she would.

  Chapter Seven

  Milton Ward gnawed at the hangnail on his pinkie finger as he waited for Detective Gallagher. Every noise had him turning right or left. The Slaters were a powerful family and had spies everywhere. They were looking for him…he had no doubts about that.