Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel (18 page)

Last night after Nick left, she had barely been able to close her eyes. Oddly, the one thing that replayed the most in her mind was Nick’s arrival. She hadn’t known just how much she missed him until he’d been standing in front of her. What would have happened if she’d gone with her first instinct and thrown herself into his arms?
 

She shook her head. She knew what would have happened. He would have embraced her as a friend, nothing more. After almost two years of living in a vacuum, with grief and retribution her only companions, she now found herself attracted to another man. But not just any man—Nick Gallagher. During that dark, lonely time, her libido had apparently acquired a twisted sense of humor.
 

“Rachel, got a minute?”

She jerked her head up to see Eli standing over her desk. Last night, before Nick left, they had called Grey Justice and told him they were both in. He had advised Kennedy to act as if her job with Eli was normal. No discussion of their plan was to be held within the outer office. If, at any time, she felt the need to discuss something secretive, Eli had a small, private office that should be safe. As far as the outside world could see, she was Eli Slater’s executive assistant and nothing more.

Reminding herself of those instructions, Rachel pasted on her pleasant smile. “Sure thing.”

“Come on into my office, and let’s go over my schedule for the week.”

Three hours later, Eli finally completed his review of his upcoming week. The morning had zoomed by. He might have been planning the downfall of his father and older brother, but he also had a huge responsibility to the thousands of Slater House employees and their guests. He took his job seriously.

“Once you’ve finished, give your notes to Helen so she can be updated, too.”

Kennedy had met Helen Copeland, Eli’s secretary, earlier. As stern and imposing as any four-star general, the woman didn’t look as though she had an ounce of softness. As if it was an unimportant piece of trivia, Eli had mentioned in his introduction that Helen had once been Mathias’s secretary but had graciously agreed to work for him when he’d moved to Dallas. There had been nothing in his tone to indicate a warning, but Kennedy read between the lines. Helen might appear as though she worked for Eli, but she reported to his father.

“I have a business dinner Friday night. I received the invitation a few days ago but forgot all about it, and now I don’t have time to get a date. I’d like for you to attend with me, unless you have other plans.”

“I don’t have anything planned.”

“Excellent. I’ll have a car come for you at seven thirty at your house.”

“Is this a formal affair?”

“Semiformal. A few business acquaintances are in town for the weekend. Both my father and brother will be in attendance.”

An electric surge went through her. “I’ll be ready.” And she meant the words. At last she would meet the devil and his spawn.

Kennedy stood. “Anything else?”
 

“As a matter of fact, yes. You have an appointment with a stylist in half an hour. Gunter, my driver, will take you.”

The frown on her face caused a gleam of amusement in Eli’s eyes. “You’ll need something new and elegant for the dinner. All executive assistants are afforded this luxury.”

It only made sense that the Slaters’ companions, even the fake ones, would need to look their best. And since she planned to attract Adam Slater’s attention, having a little help would be welcome.
 

“What a nice perk. Thank you.”
 

The last year had been all about hiding herself and blending in. From now on, it would be about standing out and making Adam Slater believe he had to have her. She suddenly found herself looking forward to the challenge.

Nick spent the first part of his day becoming Rachel Walker’s live-in boyfriend. Figuring they both needed one last gasp of breathing room before they became roommates, he had waited until she left for work before he’d arrived with his things.

In his earlier years as a cop, he’d done a few undercover stints. Most hadn’t lasted more than a few days and involved little to no drama. This undercover operation would be the most difficult of his life. He didn’t fool himself into believing that living with Kennedy would be easy. They had a job to do, but he had one major issue to get over. His feelings for her weren’t the platonic ones of a roommate. There was nothing friendly about the way he’d wanted to devour her luscious lips and feel her body melting into his.

He could do nothing about those feelings, though. Thomas would always stand between them. Kennedy still loved her husband.

Resenting his best friend’s presence didn’t sit well with him. He’d loved the man like a brother, and if given the option of having Thomas still alive, Nick would have chosen it. He had been the best of men and had made Kennedy happy. And Kennedy’s happiness was vitally important to him.

The new cellphone in his jacket buzzed. Earlier today he’d met with a young woman who worked for Justice. She had handed him a packet of various items, including an impressive burner phone that had more bells, whistles and buttons than anything he’d ever seen on a throwaway.

He held the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

“You get settled?” Justice asked.

“Yes. All moved in.”

“Good. Meet me at the Dover Building on Cranston, Suite 712.”

“Want to give me a clue why?”

“You said you wanted to know more about Grey Justice. Here’s your chance.”
 

Half an hour later, Nick parked in front of a small, shabby-looking building on the outskirts of Dallas. He hadn’t misunderstood the address, but this place looked as though it had been abandoned for years. Apparently, once a dry cleaner, the place was now just one of the many dried-up businesses in this part of town.
 

He shrugged. Wouldn’t be the first time Justice had surprised him. With that thought, he strode up to the door and twisted the knob. Locked. He was about to back away and look in the window when a calm, feminine voice announced from an invisible speaker, “Welcome, Mr. Gallagher,” and the door clicked open.
 

Nick walked inside and once again faced what looked like an abandoned business. He heard a soft swishing sound. An opening appeared in the wall, and a middle-age, well-dressed woman appeared. “Grey wanted to be here to meet you, but he received a phone call just before you arrived. He told me to bring you to his office.”
 

Anticipating that he was going to see even more surprising things than a wall magically opening, he followed the woman and then came to an abrupt stop. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen outside a
James Bond
film. Giant screens adorned the walls, showing news reports from all over the world. At least a dozen people sat at computer stations, seemingly involved in whatever was in front of them. Small groups of people sat at conference tables, their expressions earnest and animated. It wasn’t quite Mission Control at NASA but still damn impressive.

“This way, sir.”
 

Nick forced his feet to keep moving, the questions coming faster than his mind could comprehend them. How long had Justice been involved in this kind of work? And just what the hell did these people do for him?
 

He followed the woman up a flight of stairs and then down a carpeted corridor. She knocked on a closed door and then twisted the knob. Grey Justice stood in the middle of the room. “Come on in, Gallagher.”
 

The woman disappeared, and Nick shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared shitless. What the hell kind of operation are you running here?”
 

The other man shrugged. “Nothing too complicated. As I said, I have an unusual hobby of seeing that victims receive justice. This is one of the places where we make those things happen.”
 

“One? How many do you have?”

“Half a dozen spread around the globe.”
 

“What do you do? How does this all work?”

“Let me take you around. I think you’ll better understand.”

They stood on the second-floor corridor and looked out over the gigantic room filled with computer equipment that would impress any
Fortune
100 company.

“Every person you see is working on a case.” He nodded toward a group sitting at a conference table. “Depending on the degree of complexity, a case might have three to five operatives assigned to it.”

“Operatives?”

For a moment, humor glinted in Justice’s eyes. “Secret Santa seemed too cliché.”

As if he knew all about Nick’s reservations, he started down the stairs. “Before you get too overloaded with wild conjectures, let me show you a few cases.”

Justice stopped at a workstation where a young Latina woman sat, typing on a keyboard.

“How’s it going, Margarita?”

Her dark eyes gleaming, she grinned up at him. “I managed to get the documents to Harris’s defense attorney without anyone, even his secretary, seeing me. Now that he knows for certain that his client is innocent and who to call for testimony, the trial should be a short one.”

“Excellent. This is Nick, who will be working with us for the next few months. Would you mind telling him how you became involved with us?”

“Sure.” Her focus turned to Nick. “Last year, my little brother, Juan, was killed in a car accident. The man responsible had been drinking, but the investigation was shoddy. They made it seem like Juan was at fault…they said he was speeding. When my parents protested that the other driver had been drinking, the sheriff disputed the claim. So instead of the killer of my brother going to jail, he wasn’t even fined. To add insult to injury, his insurance company tried to make a claim against my parents’ policy, saying my brother was at fault.”

“How did you know the other man had been drinking if there was no record of it?” Nick asked.

“The passenger in my brother’s car, his girlfriend, said she smelled alcohol on him. She said he was staggering around and cursing at everyone. The sheriff denied her claim…said she was lying.” Margarita glanced over at Justice. “We were devastated, sure that nothing could be done. It was our word against everyone else’s.
 

“Then a woman came to see my parents. She said she could help us, but we would have to make sure no one knew where the information came from. My father is a minister, and as much as he wanted justice for Juan, he refused to be a party to breaking the law. She assured him no laws would be broken.”

Nick had grave doubts that Margarita had been told the truth about that but continued to listen.

“Two days later, we get a call that the driver had been charged with vehicular manslaughter and driving under the influence.”

“And how did that happen?”

“It was discovered that the other driver had paid off the sheriff. The man had a history of driving while intoxicated. If he received another citation, he would go to prison, so he paid the sheriff to lie.”

He shot a quick glance at Justice, then returned his gaze to Margarita. “And how was this discovered?”

“The sheriff admitted this.”
 

“I’m sure your parents were relieved.”

“You’ll never know how much. It didn’t bring Juan back, but it gave them peace, and that’s all we had asked for.”

Thanking Margarita for sharing her story, Nick and Justice walked away.
 

“I can see your doubts, Gallagher. You don’t believe it happened that way?”

“Oh, I believe it, but there seemed to be quite a few lucky breaks.”

“If I told you that no laws were broken, would that make you feel better?”

“Look, I’m not so sanctimonious that I believe everything is black and white or certain parameters can’t be stretched. I’m just wondering if every one of your cases is so easily and legally resolved.”

“The man who killed your mother plea-bargained his sentence down to fifteen years with time served because the prosecutor had a backlog of cases. How did that make you feel?”

Made sense the man would know this…the case was public record. He didn’t hesitate in his answer. “Like any son who lost the mother he loved because of a senseless act of violence, I wanted to kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands.”

“If you had a way to make sure he got the sentence he deserved, such as a life term or even the death penalty, would you have done it?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

“I appreciate your honesty. That’s what we’re about. We help average citizens…the ones who don’t have money, power, or connections, get the justice they seek. Do we sometimes go beyond what’s considered legal? Hell yeah, I’ll be the first to admit it. And do we occasionally do things that could get us put in jail? If we were caught and convicted, probably so.” He gestured to the people working so diligently at their desks. “Every person here has benefited from the Grey Justice Group. And if you ask any of them if they think we went too far, they’ll tell you no.”

Nick would be a hypocrite if he complained about the organization that was helping Kennedy, but he needed to know one thing. “Just how far do you go?”