Nick had the gut-wrenching feeling that unless another snitch stepped up to rat out the Slaters, Thomas’s murder would remain unsolved. True, the bastard who’d fired the gun was dead, but the people who’d hired the hit were still running free. And, apparently, that’s the way it would stay. Thomas’s murder was officially closed as a robbery gone bad. Nick’s own shooting and Milton Ward’s death had gone to cold case. Speculation that Nick had been targeted for a bust he’d made years ago had become the standard party line.
The shooting of the three gang members, including the kid associated with Jonah Slater, went down as a rival gang shooting. Everything got tied up with a neat little bow.
And once again, the Slaters had gotten away with murder.
For Nick, this would never be over. He would search until death to find the people behind Thomas’s murder.
On his own time and dime, Nick had dug deep into the Slaters. Investigating the family was a lot like eating cotton candy. You could stuff a lot in your mouth, but it disintegrated into a whole lot of nothing. If he hadn’t been shot and Milton’s head hadn’t exploded seconds after implicating the Slaters, he wouldn’t have believed they were involved either.
He would’ve handled everything a hell of a lot better if he could have been sure that Kennedy was safe. The three voice mail messages she’d left on his phone had been terrifying and frustrating. The first two had been “I’ll call you back” messages; the third one had been a vague, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, just take care of yourself.”
He’d heard the fear and despair in her voice. He had listened to those messages at least a hundred times. He could only imagine how alone and cornered she must have felt. And he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing to help her. After all the promises he’d made to her and to Thomas, he had failed them both.
Arrogantly, he had assumed that because she was an amateur, she would be easy to find. He knew she was intelligent but had underestimated her ingenuity. Air and train tickets purchased and not used. Car rental reservations made without the car being picked up. Her car had been found in a grocery store parking lot in Hobbs, New Mexico. And at some point, in the middle of the night, someone had come and cleaned out her house. According to her neighbors, one day the house had been filled with furniture, and the next it stood empty, as if no one had ever lived there.
Where was the evidence Ward claimed to have given Thomas? Had Thomas hidden it somewhere? Or had one of Slater’s people gotten to it?
Nick had searched every square inch of the O’Connells’ empty house. If that’s where Thomas stored the documents, they were long gone. Did Kennedy have them? Was that why she had disappeared?
How the hell could a young woman with no covert experience vanish so thoroughly? There was only one answer—she’d had help. Someone had guided her actions and helped her disappear. She had created a mass of leads that had him running around like a rat in a maze. And though the dead ends had been as frustrating as hell, they had reassured him. If, with his experience and resources, he couldn’t find her, then no one else could either.
Yeah, it was tepid, shallow optimism…these days, he took what he could get.
Nick opened his apartment door and headed straight to his bedroom to change into a pair of shorts and an old sweatshirt. About the only way he had to battle the hopelessness inside him was to beat the hell out of his boxing bag and work himself into exhaustion. He was halfway to the kitchen for a bottle of water when he realized he wasn’t alone. The dark figure of a man sitting in a chair in the corner caught his eye.
Cursing his inattentiveness, he grabbed the closest weapon—a bust of Sherlock Holmes—and turned toward the intruder.
“Before you allow Mr. Holmes to bash my head in, wouldn’t you like to know why I’m here?”
The crisp British voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Nick replied coolly, “I’m more of an attack-first-and-ask-questions-later kind of guy.”
“Pity. You don’t seem the type to go off half-cocked.”
“Depends on the situation. Having some asshole break into my house is the type of thing that pisses me off.”
“Understandable, but you can often learn more things if you wait awhile.”
“Or you can get yourself killed. Now, tell me who the hell you are and why you’re here.”
“Let’s talk first. Then we’ll decide if we want to exchange personal information.”
If the man was going to shoot him, he would’ve done so by now. Nick lowered the statue to his side but held on to it just in case. He reached for the light switch on the wall.
“No lights.”
“So I’m not allowed to know your name or what you look like?”
“Not yet. Have a seat.”
Despite the aggravation of having a stranger break into his house and the man’s numerous rules, Nick was intrigued. He pulled his hand back from the light switch. “I’ll stand. Now tell me what the hell you want.”
“I want what you want—to bring Mathias Slater and his goons to justice.”
If he hadn’t captured Nick’s attention before, he sure as hell had it now. “What do you know about Slater?”
“That he’s into more shit than anyone could ever imagine.”
“And why do you care?”
“Let’s just say that seeing bad guys get what’s coming to them is a hobby of mine.”
“And how can you assist me in seeing that Slater gets what’s coming to him?”
“By giving you access to information you can’t get through your channels.”
“You mean illegal channels.”
“Semantics. What you see as illegal, I see as creative license.”
Still wary but more interested than ever, Nick returned the statue to the end table and dropped down onto the sofa. “Okay, you have my undivided attention.”
“Excellent. However, we need to come to an agreement before we go further.”
“Such as?”
“If you decline my proposal, this discussion never happened.”
“Agreed.”
“Excellent.”
“You’re just going to take my word for it?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t already know you can be trusted, Mr. Gallagher.”
Where and how he’d gotten information on Nick could wait till another time.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Mathias Slater and his antics hit my radar several years ago. I’ve tried penetrating his tight-knit circle. Unfortunately, I’ve gotten only so far before someone ratted out my informant.”
“And how can I help? If you know that much about me, then you already know that I’ve run into a road block in every avenue I’ve taken against Slater.”
“That’s true. However, you have an avenue you don’t even know you can take.”
“And what’s that?”
“There’s a folder on the table in front of you. Take a look inside.”
Nick didn’t move…considered what could be inside.
“I’m glad to see that my informants were correct. You have a short fuse, but it’s tempered with a deliberative cautiousness.”
“I’m assuming that I’ll be allowed to turn on the lights to look at the folder.”
“That’s correct. Another reason why your deliberation is important. You turn on those lights, you will have information that could destroy not only me, but negatively impact the lives of thousands.”
Nick reached up and flipped on the lamp beside him. Light illuminated the man sitting in the corner and he knew why the voice had sounded so familiar. This was a man known to millions. And he was right—if anyone discovered the truth, thousands of lives would be affected.
Deciding to mull over the man’s identity later, Nick grabbed the folder and opened it. The instant he saw the first photograph, everything within him froze. He looked up at the man who sat so calmly across from him and whispered hoarsely, “What do I need to do?”
Ch
apter Nine
Grey Justice wasn’t a man easily impressed. Nick Gallagher had managed to do that on more than one occasion. The detective had been researched thoroughly. Before he brought people into his confidence, he had to know what they were made of and if they could be trusted. Gallagher had the forthrightness to tell it like he saw it, but he also had integrity. Having a few notable contacts in the Houston Police Department, he had learned many things about the detective over the last few months.
Raised by a single mother, Gallagher had never had it easy. The majority of people in the world didn’t, but challenges didn’t reveal character. How a man chose to deal with those challenges showed his true self. Some allowed their circumstances to conquer them; others battled for all they were worth to rise above them. Nick Gallagher was a man who had fought to overcome the odds.
Recovering from the bullet wound hadn’t been a painless path, either. Few people survived the kind of injury Gallagher sustained…much less regained their health. A combination of luck, stamina, and determination were required to overcome that kind of trauma.
He noted that Gallagher took his time, looking through all the photographs in the folder as if memorizing each one. There shouldn’t have been that many, but the woman was extraordinarily photogenic. His photographer had obviously enjoyed his assignment.
It was telling that Gallagher knew the woman’s identity immediately, especially since she looked almost nothing like she had before. Hair that had once been brownish red, reaching well past her shoulders, was now a mass of short platinum-blond curls. The style suited her, highlighting exquisite cheekbones and enhancing wide brown eyes. The woman wore glasses, most likely thinking they gave her an aura of seriousness. She also wore more makeup than she had in her previous life. Either way, she was a lovely woman and would attract many men.
Grey had briefly considered approaching her instead of Gallagher, but had changed his mind. She had little reason to trust him. Nick Gallagher was probably the only person she completely trusted.
If not for the trained eyes by some of his employees, he might never have found her until it was too late. She’d come a long way from the frightened, emotionally battered woman she had been when he’d first met her, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by her ingenuity and determination. However, she couldn’t know what she had taken on. She was in a nest of vipers. One slipup, and she’d be eliminated without a second thought.
He’d mucked things up before…underestimating her. He didn’t intend to do that again. Gallagher was his way in.
Coming to the end of the photographs, Gallagher raised his head. “How long has she worked there?”
“Over a year. She started at an entry-level position, but with her intelligence and drive, she’s already received several promotions.”
“What the hell is she trying to do?”
“I don’t know. My guess is she’s either going to find a way to destroy Slater financially or she’s going to get information she needs to prove his guilt.”
“So she’s not working for you?”
“No, she did this on her own. Impressive that she was able to infiltrate even this level. The Slaters have stringent hiring procedures. Her cover is impressive and airtight.”
“I can’t believe she’s working right under their noses.”
Grey shrugged. “It’s the talent and backbone of the person that makes or breaks a cover. She’s very talented…and determined.”
For the first time since they’d begun talking, he saw a small crack in Gallagher’s stony veneer. Though fleeting and covered up almost immediately, the agony in the man’s eyes was almost painful to witness. Another piece of the puzzle was solved. Gallagher had deep feelings for the woman. That might complicate things a bit but could also be used to his advantage.
Ruthlessly using people had become a way of life for Grey. Some saw him as a heartless bastard with no conscience. Others saw him as a generous, kind man who assisted those in need. In his opinion, he was neither. He was just a man on a set course who did what he had to do to accomplish his goals. He cared little about other people’s opinions. Though, on occasion, he caught a glimpse of the man he’d once been—with a conscience, morals and ethics—he would never let that prevent him from taking advantage of others’ weaknesses to get the job done.
“If she’s not working for you, then why are…?” Comprehension came quick, fury followed. “You son of a bitch. You want to use me to get to her.”
Grey shrugged. He would make no apology for his methods. “She doesn’t trust easy…especially after what happened to her husband. She trusts you.”
“Forget it. I’m not going to put her in danger just to further whatever agenda you have.”
“Not even to bring down the people responsible for Thomas O’Connell’s death?” Grey asked softly.
It took every ounce of Nick’s self-control not to fly across the room and slam his fist into the man’s face. The fact that Grey Justice was one of the wealthiest men in the world made no difference to him. The bastard wanted to use Kennedy.
“Before you fulfill that need to beat me to a pulp, you need to realize that Mrs. O’Connell is already in danger. She chose to pursue Slater. Whatever Thomas O’Connell intended for his wife, I doubt it included working for the enemy.”
That much was true. Thomas would have been furious at what Kennedy had done. And Nick couldn’t help but be furious with his friend for putting her in this position in the first place.
“What exactly does Kennedy hope to accomplish?” Nick asked. “You said yourself you’ve not been able to infiltrate Slater’s tight-knit organization. If she’s working in a low-level position at one of the family’s many companies, how does she expect to succeed? Hell, she’ll never even get close enough to do any damage. He’s probably got thousands of people working for him that he’s never met.”
“Exactly. That’s one of the things you’re going to have to address with her. I don’t know her plans.”
“But you already know what your plans are for her. Right?”
“Yes, we have an entry for her, but she’ll need to trust us. That’s where you come in.”
Nick cocked a brow. “Sorry, asshole, but if you think I’m going to trust you because of your money or reputation, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Humor lit Justice’s eyes. “I’ve been known to do my share of barking, but I don’t believe it will be necessary in this case.”
“I’ll hear you out. That’s all I’ll promise.”
“Good enough for me. But there’s something else I’d like you to consider as well.”
“And that is?”
“Working for me.”
Nick shook his head. “I’m a cop.”
“And a good one.” Justice shrugged. “I’ll let you ponder your career choice. I’m hopeful you’ll change your mind.”
Not one to make decisions without knowing all the facts, Nick wasn’t going to say one hundred percent that he wouldn’t change his mind, but it would take a hell of a lot of persuading to get him to make a change of that magnitude.
For right now, his main concern was Kennedy. While seeing Thomas’s killer get what was coming to him was high on Nick’s list of priorities, Kennedy’s safety and welfare trumped those things to hell and back. What on earth was she doing working for the Slaters?
“Let’s talk about the Slaters. I already know they’re the scumbags responsible for Thomas’s death, Milton Ward’s murder, and my shooting.”
“They are much more than that.”
“Such as?”
“Did you ever wonder why you could find nothing—not a shred of evidence—that sullied the Slater name?”
Hell yeah, he’d wondered. It’d been driving him crazy for months. “What about his son Jonah? He sure sullied it.”
“You never thought that was strange? An anomaly?”
Thomas had thought it was suspicious, but proving someone’s innocence hadn’t exactly been on Nick
’s must-do list. He’d been looking for a way to nail all the Slaters, not investigate one who’d already been proven guilty.
“The guy was caught with a shitload of cocaine and heroin. Not much mystery there.”
“True. But when you piss Papa Slater off, you pay the price.”
“You’re saying Slater set up his own kid? Why? And how do you know this?”
“Because Jonah Slater works for me.”
Nick wasn’t buying it. “You’re saying the son of Mathias Slater is a good guy who was set up by his father to take a fall as punishment? Somebody sold you a crock of shit.”
“I assure you, Mr. Gallagher, I don’t deal in crocks, shit or otherwise. Jonah went against the family. He was punished for his sins. It was either send him to prison or kill him. As an indulgence to his wife, Jonah’s mother, Mathias chose prison.”
“Gee, what a nice guy,” Nick said.
“I’m sure Mathias thinks so.”
“Sounds like you have more insight into the family than just Jonah.”
“I’ll be glad to tell you more if you agree to my terms.”
“I’ve already told you I’m not going to work for you. However, I do want to make sure Kennedy stays safe. If that means helping you, then I’ll agree to those terms.”
“You’ll have to move to Dallas.”
“Fine. I’ll take a leave of absence. Problem is, no one’s going to buy that I’m just taking time off. No way in hell will they believe I’m not continuing an investigation of the Slaters.”
“Don’t worry, a leave of absence won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it.”
Nick narrowed his eyes at the man across from him. He took nothing on faith these days, especially from a man who was probably just as powerful and well connected as the Slaters. “Take care of it how?”
“I can understand your caution, Gallagher, but it’s time to take a stand. I can make things happen, but giving you details is time consuming and pointless. What’s it going to be? In or out.”
Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel Page 8