Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel (45 page)

She grabbed her coat and was on her way to the door when everything blew up in her face.

“Kennedy? My God, Kennedy…is that you?”

Startled, she whirled and faced the woman. Even though almost two years had passed, she looked the same. Dark brown hair pulled into an elegant knot, lively, light green eyes, and the perky little nose that she’d said she hated because it didn’t fit her face. She was even wearing the cocktail dress Kennedy had gone shopping with her to buy. Kennedy remembered her grumbling, saying it was a week’s salary, but then she had caved, promising to wear it to every social event for the next ten years. Apparently, Julie had kept that promise.

What was she even doing here, in Dallas, at this event? And what was Kennedy supposed to do now?

Panicked, Kennedy turned without a word and started toward the front door again. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and swung her back around.

Going into full Rachel mode, she snapped, “I beg your pardon. Please unhand me.”

“Kennedy…it’s you.” Julie’s smooth brow furrowed with confusion, doubt. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, please, I have to go.” Jerking her arm away, she took half a step and ran straight into a frowning, curious Adam.

“Do you know that woman?” he asked.

“No, never saw her before in my life.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m really getting the most horrendous headache. Can we please go?”

Thankfully, Adam’s expression was one of irritation, not suspicion. “Yes. The car’s outside waiting on us. Let’s get out of here.”

Weaving in and out of the crowd, they finally made it outside. The limo’s back door was already open, and Kennedy practically dived into the dark interior. She couldn’t trust that Julie wouldn’t follow. Adam slid in across from her and didn’t appear to see anything amiss. She was suddenly thankful for the dimwittedness she’d been feeling sorry about only moments before. That could have been a disaster.

As they drove through the darkness, she leaned her head against the cushioned backseat, just wanting to get this night over with and get home to Nick. She glanced out the window and sat up, an awful kind of dread washing over her. “Your driver missed the turn.”

 
“No, he didn’t. I need to make a quick stop at my office.”

“But I thought we were going home.”

“It’ll only take a minute. You can stay in the car. What’s your problem anyway?”

Get a hold of yourself, Kennedy!
“Sorry. My head is pounding.” She managed a strained smile. Nick was following behind them. He would see them stop and would wait on them. Nothing had changed. She was just stressed about seeing Julie…that was all.

The fifteen-minute drive to the Slater building seemed interminable. Kennedy kept her head turned, looking out the window. She could see Adam’s reflection as he looked out on his side, seemingly lost in thought. They were a mile from the office when she noticed the change. First, he stiffened, and then he turned. She knew what he was going to say before the words came out of his mouth.

“Kennedy. That woman called you Kennedy.”

“I don’t know what she called me.” She shrugged in the careless, arrogant manner she’d seen in Irelyn a hundred times. “I don’t know the woman, so it really doesn’t matter.”

He turned back to the window again. Kennedy couldn’t breathe. She knew he was putting things together, and for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with a way to stop him.
 

He turned back to her again. “That cop’s wife was named Kennedy.”

“What cop?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. You’re not Rachel Walker. You’re that bastard cop’s wife.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Shaking his head, his hand reached into a small compartment beside him and returned with a gun. “I knew this would come back and bite us in the ass. Cyrus was supposed to kill you and messed up.”
 

Keeping the gun pointed at her, he muttered something to his driver. The man nodded and put a cellphone to his ear.

“Adam, I don’t know what—”

“Save it,” he snapped.
 

A thousand thoughts went through her mind, none of them included the solution for how to get out of this without getting shot or killed. She had a gun in her thigh holster. Problem was, she needed to divert Adam’s attention so she could retrieve it. Her cellphone was in her coat pocket, but since she hadn’t taken the time to put it on, the coat lay beside her. If she could get to her phone, she could press the speed-dial key for Nick.

“I’m cold. Mind if I put my coat on?”

“Jack,” Adam shouted. “Turn up the damn heat. Our passenger is cold.”

“But I—”

Adam brought the gun within an inch of her face and snarled, “Shut up or I’ll do you here.”

Kennedy sank back against the seat. What now?

Chapter Forty-three

Eli let himself into his boyhood home. If he’d rung the bell, the butler would have opened the door. If he had called ahead, his mother would have greeted him. He did intend to see his mother before he left, but for right now, he wanted to go in unnoticed.

He stood in the middle of the foyer and took in the familiar fragrances of home. Most people who saw where one of the wealthiest families in the country lived were surprised at its simplicity. The house was half the size of his own home. There was nothing pretentious about Mathias and Eleanor’s house. His father was not a collector of anything other than money.

Though their mother had worked hard to make the house a beautiful place to live, the memories here weren’t particularly warm or good. Yes, there had been some fun times, but they’d been few and too far between the bad times to make any real impression. For the most part, all he remembered were cold looks and hateful comments, along with the occasional ass-whupping when his father was particularly displeased.
 

Then his mother would come along and try to soothe everyone’s feelings by making excuses for Mathias. The three he remembered the most:
 

“He’s had a hard day at the office.”
 

“You know how riled he gets when you defy him.”
 

“He loves you. He just has a hard time showing his affection.”

 
What a weird pairing his parents had made.

“What are you doing here, boy?”

Eli turned to see his father standing in the doorway of the family room. Not very tall, a little on the thin side, but always larger than life—that was Mathias Slater.
 

“I wanted to see how Mama’s doing.”

“Your mama’s just fine.”

“She didn’t seem fine a few weeks ago when she attended the funeral of her youngest son.”

Mathias glared. “You’d better not bring that up. I just now got her settled down about it.”

“Settled down? You think the death of a child—one who was murdered—is something you can just ‘settle down’?” Eli snorted a humorless laugh. “You really are a piece of work, old man.”

“You don’t come into my home and insult me, boy. Did you not learn your lessons growing up?”

“I learned many lessons, Mathias. One of the most valuable ones was how not to be a lousy father.”

“Yeah, you’ve done so well with your life, haven’t you? Married a woman who barely knew her name because of all the shit she poured into her body. Who knows what those children would have been like if she had lived.”

“Shelley was ill.”

Mathias snorted. “You make excuses for her all you want. She didn’t love her children or you either.”

“My children are none of your business.”

“They’re my grandchildren. I’ve got a right to have a say in how they’re raised.”

“Like hell you do.”

Mathias pointed his finger at him—a gesture Eli remembered all too well from the hundreds of lectures he’d received as a child. “Mark my words, someday you’ll come running to me, asking for help, and I won’t give a damn.”

“You don’t give a damn now.”

“That’s not true, but then again, that was always your problem, Eli. You never wanted to face the truth.”

Fury filled Eli, and unable to wait any longer, he shouted, “You sanctimonious asshole. You want to face a truth? Here’s one for you.” Turning back to the door, he swung it wide and looked out. “Come on in.”

The scathing words Mathias had planned froze on his mouth. He watched in horror as a ghost from his past stepped back into his life.

“Hello, old man,” Jonah said. “Remember me?”
 

“Jonah?” a female voice screeched behind them. “Jonah… Is it really you?”

Too shocked to speak, Mathias watched as his wife rushed forward and fell, weeping, into her youngest son’s arms.

Mathias gripped the door. He always had a contingency plan. Nothing ever took him by surprise. How the hell had this happened?

Keeping an arm around his weeping mother, Jonah gave Mathias the meanest smile he could ever imagine. Now this was the man Mathias had always wanted to see. For the first time ever, he saw himself in the boy. If he weren’t so flabbergasted and speechless, he’d have been laughing his ass off in glee. Finally, the kid had turned into somebody he could be proud to call his own.

Mathias had always prided himself on being flexible when necessary. His smile bright, he said in a booming voice, “Welcome home, son. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

“Is that right?” Jonah said. “You look a little shell-shocked to me.”
 

“I gotta admit, I’m surprised, too.” Mathias shot a hard look at Eli. “Did you arrange this?”

“Wish I could take credit, but I can’t. I didn’t know he was alive until several days after his funeral.”

“Well then…who…how…?” Dammit, he hated that he was sputtering, but he really didn’t understand how this had happened. When he gave orders, they were carried out immediately, to his specifications.
 

“The day before I was to be…” Jonah frowned. “What’s the terminology you people use? Terminated? I had a visit from an old friend of yours—Cyrus Denton.”

“Cyrus?” Even to Mathias’s ears, his voice sounded strained. The one man he’d trusted for years to take care of his problems had betrayed him in the worst way possible. He was going to have the bastard drawn and quartered and then have him blasted six ways to Sunday.

Jonah went on, still wearing that mean-looking grin. “Yes, Cyrus. He explained what was supposed to go down, but said he couldn’t let it happen. He even admitted to being responsible for carrying out several executions, but the thought of setting up the termination of a family member wasn’t something he could condone. He arranged for a replacement body—some poor sucker, a John Doe, who’d been killed in a hit-and-run a couple of days before. Since I believe you indicated you wanted me to learn a very harsh lesson, the guy’s mutilated corpse worked well.”

“Mathias? What on earth is he talking about?”
 

Eleanor was looking at him in horror, like he was some kind of freak. Mathias forced a smile to his stiff lips. “Now, Nora, you know these boys are just pranking us. Don’t tell me you believe any of these ridiculous allegations.”
 

A fiery glare took in both of his sons. “You boys tell your mama that you’re just fooling.”

His arm around his mother, Jonah looked down, shaking his head. “I’m sorry as I can be, Mama, but you can’t keep your head in the sand any longer. You’re married to a monster.”

“Stop it!” Mathias shouted. “You hush your mouth this instant.” He softened his voice when he looked at his wife. “Nora, honey. Why don’t you go lie down? Somehow or other, these boys have got it in their heads that their father is guilty of all sorts of terrible stuff. I’ll get it straightened out…I promise.”

Giving him the sweet smile he’d fallen in love with years ago, she nodded. “I think I will lie down for a while.” She hugged Jonah again. “I’m so happy to see you, son.”

The room went silent. Mathias saw the pitying look the boys gave their mama as she left the room. They thought there was something wrong with her, loving a man like him. Neither one of them knew what love even meant.
 

The instant he knew Nora was out of earshot, Mathias snarled, “You’ve gone and done it now. The one thing I’ve tried all my married life to prevent is your mama from being hurt. Sometimes a man has to handle messy details of business, but I’ve always tried to protect Nora from the hard stuff. There’s no telling what kind of damage you’ve done to her.”

Jonah shook his head. “You are such a piece of work. Acting like you love her when the only thing that’s ever mattered to you is the almighty dollar.”

“That almighty dollar paid for braces for your teeth, a snazzy car at fifteen, and a college degree from that fancy university you just had to attend. I sure didn’t hear you complaining about those dollars then.”

“If I had known about the backs of good men you had to step on and destroy to earn that money, I damn well wouldn’t have accepted a dime from you.”