Whatever It Takes (6 page)

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

Pocketing the empty syringe, she gently patted Alice’s baby-soft cheek and 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.

At that thought, she pulled in every reserve she had left. No. Dammit. No. She would not give in. She would not allow this to happen. These men were here to fix her sister. There was no other choice. Alice would live. Dammit, she would live.

The medical jargon was still a mile high over her head, but it appeared the vote, four to one, was to wait twenty-four hours to see if Alice’s vital signs improved. Whether they did or didn’t, they would then operate and remove the bullet fragment hovering so close to her sister’s heart.

Now that it was settled, she would go back to Alice’s room. When her sister woke, she would tell her the good news. That she would have the surgery and that it would be a success. Kathleen had to make Alice understand that she had to fight, had to hold on. Alice wasn’t the most resilient person, but in this she had no choice. She would have to fight for all she was worth. 

On decidedly shaky legs, Kathleen stood and gave a sweeping glance to the doctors still sitting at the table. “Thank you for allowing me to listen in. I know you all want what’s best for Alice. I’ll just—”

The loud speaker buzzed, and then a voice announced, “Code blue. Code blue. All available medical staff. Report to Room 3242.”

Alice!

Chapter Six

Kathleen willed her legs to move, one step and then another. Up the stairs to her apartment. She’d shut off her emotions over the last few days. Had barely slept or eaten. Holding on by a thread, just waiting until she could finally let go. The second she entered her apartment, she was planning a meltdown of epic proportions.

 The key slid into the door of her apartment, she twisted the knob, and felt the emotions swell.

“Miss Callahan?”

She jerked around. Exhaustion and emotional devastation had slowed her instincts. A man stood in the shadows. He was dressed in black, and she could see nothing of his features other than he was tall, with a muscular physique. If he was here to attack her, he would win. She was way too tired to give a damn. And if he was here to rob her, he was in for a major letdown. She had nothing worth stealing…nothing left, not anymore.

Her fuzzy brain registered that he’d called her Miss Callahan. People weren’t generally that polite right before they attacked.

“Yes?”

“I’d like to talk to you about your sister.”

Another damn reporter. The burn of hatred was strong and true, singeing and cauterizing the bleed of grief. “Haven’t you bottom-feeding reporters had enough fun? Haven’t you tortured me enough? What more do you want?”

“I’m not a reporter, Miss Callahan. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me how?” Her voice went thick as she added, “I just buried my sister. If you’d wanted to help, you’ve got piss-poor timing.”

“I know. I’m very sorry. I—” He broke off when voices came from the stairwell. Her neighbors were coming home. “Look. May I come in?”

“No, you may not. I have no idea who you are or what you want.” 

He moved closer, stood in the light. Her breath hitched as she immediately recognized his famous face. This man was on the news more times in one week than Kathleen had been in a lifetime. But what was he doing here?

“My name is Grey Justice, and I’d like to help you find the person who framed your sister.”

Grey followed Kathleen Callahan into her home. Though how anyone could call this place
home
would be laughable if it weren’t so damn sad. The apartment was one small room with a couch, a small dresser, and a rollaway bed standing upright in the corner. Grey imagined she had to move the furniture into the corner when she was ready to go to sleep, as there wasn’t enough room for the bed otherwise.

A small alcove showed an ancient microwave, hot plate, and minifridge. The other side of the room had a toilet, along with a drain in the floor and a hose hanging from the wall above it. Apparently some idiot’s idea of a shower.

A beaten-up table with one lone chair sat in the middle of the room. Somehow, that seemed the saddest and most telling piece in the whole place. Kathleen Callahan was alone. Had been for a long time.

“Before we go any further, you need to know that I won’t hesitate to defend myself.”

Grey wasn’t surprised she was holding a gun on him. And he knew her words were true. He knew quite a lot about Kathleen Callahan. What he knew, he liked. 

The Callahan sisters’ upbringing had been both unorthodox and somewhat difficult. Both women had no doubt been affected by their childhood, but they’d gone about dealing with it in very different ways. 

Kathleen had used the skills she’d learned as a child, acquired others as an adult, and had made herself into a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond her control, she’d had a reversal of fortune.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Kathleen. I’m here to help.”

She studied him for several more seconds, lowered the gun to her side, and then nodded toward the faded brown faux leather couch against the wall. Duct tape and prayer were the only things that seemed to be holding it together.

Grey eased onto the couch, hoping his weight wouldn’t tear a new hole in the upholstery. Regret wasn’t a normal part of his personality, but as he took in Kathleen’s grief-exhausted face, he felt the sting of it. He should have seen to her sooner. After Eli had given him the information on both Kathleen and Alice, Grey had put some of his best researchers on the case. But not in time to prove Alice’s innocence. Or save her life. He sure as hell never anticipated that anyone would try to kill the young woman, especially in the middle of a damn courtroom. 

“Tell me why you’re here. You said you believe my sister was innocent?”

Innocent? He wasn’t sure of that. However, he did believe she’d been framed for murder. Grey explained as best he could. “Your sister’s case hit my radar a week or so ago. I apologize that it didn’t catch my attention until it was too late to give you the assistance you needed.” 

“I don’t understand. Why would you even care?”

Grey had no intention of telling her that she had attracted the attention of the wealthy Eli Slater. It wasn’t his place, nor his business. That was for Eli to deal with when the time was right. 

“I have a victims’ advocacy foundation.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of it. I’m just surprised you seek victims out. For some reason, I thought they came to you.”

“They usually do, but sometimes a case catches my attention. Your sister’s trial caught mine.”

“So do you have some kind of information or proof? Do you know who killed Braden? Do you know anything about the woman who murdered my sister? How can you help?”

The questions were understandable, but as always, Grey walked a fine line when it came to offering a certain kind of assistance. His victims’ advocacy group assisted hundreds of people each year, all above board, with no secrets, no fine skirting of the law. Few people were aware that there was another side to Grey’s path to justice, one not so straight or narrow. One that often involved secrets, lies, half-truths, as well as a delicate balance between legal and illegal. He never revealed those secrets without absolute trust.

But Eli had asked for his help. Not having heard that much fire in his friend’s voice in a long time, Grey had been intrigued. For that alone, he had planned to reach out and offer assistance. Then, the more he learned, the more he realized how vital it was that he become involved. It was just too damn bad he hadn’t been able to prevent Alice’s death. 

“I don’t have a great deal of information. Mostly speculation and theories at this point.”

The case hadn’t been cut-and-dried before and was even less so now. He had several working theories but none he could share. 

The murkiness of the case was now ten times cloudier with Alice’s death. The woman who’d shot her was purported to be a former girlfriend of Braden’s. The speculation was that she’d wanted revenge for his death. Photographs had been found in her apartment, showing the two together. That lame excuse of revenge had become even shadier when Grey’s investigators couldn’t find any credible evidence that Maureen Downey had even known Braden. The authorities had accepted the photographs as proof of their relationship. Grey wasn’t so trusting.

 Other, different clues were emerging, and he didn’t like where they were leading. So he would dig deeper until he found the truth, one way or the other. 

Until then, he would do what he could to help this woman who’d lost too much already.

From everything he knew of Kathleen Callahan, after his own research and Eli’s observations, Grey believed he could trust her. Still, he would tell her only what she needed to know. Revealing more was not only foolhardy, but it was completely unnecessary. Kathleen’s focus was on exonerating her sister. Additional information would be superfluous. 

This was always the tricky part—revealing facts without showing his hand. “I believe Braden was killed by a hired killer, who set your sister up.”

“You know who this man is? Who hired him?”

“Not yet.”

“Why do you think it was a hired hit?”

“Contract killers often have signatures. They can complete their assignment in various ways but usually have favored methods, which they often rely on unless their client has a specific preference.”

“If Braden’s murder had a signature, why haven’t the police connected any other murders? It was an unusually gruesome crime.”

“The poison was the signature. The rest was…over the top.” Grey hadn’t quite come to terms with that yet.

“So that means exactly what?”

“The cause of death, the poison, is similar to three other murders committed over the last few months. Similar enough that I believe it’s worth pursuing.”

Her face was even paler than it had been before. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“I know you don’t. I realize it’s hard to trust, but I promise, I am here to help.”

“So you know how to find the person who killed Braden? What can you do that the police couldn’t?”

Grey had no trouble playing hardball. He could tell her that if she wanted his help, she should just accept certain things without question. It might come to that at some point, but for now he didn’t mind sharing more information. Especially since he had an ulterior motive in telling her.

“Sometimes a case is complicated and requires, shall we say, a delicate approach. There are some people who believe there’s only one way to pursue justice. I’m not one of those people. The path to get there isn’t always a straight, narrow, or smooth journey.”

He left it at that. Kathleen Callahan was an intelligent woman, a security specialist. And had recently been hit between the eyes with the knowledge that one could do all the right things and justice still not be served. Justice was rarely black or white. Shades of gray permeated the entire system. 

She took another few seconds to study him. She was weighing his words, looking for a trap. Trust didn’t come easy for her, and even less so now. He already knew which path she would take. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t already know the outcome.

“Where do we go from here?”

“I’d like you to come work with me in Dallas. Unlimited resources will be available to you. Some of the top investigators in the world will be at your disposal. We’ll find the truth.”

“Why would you want me to work for you? You don’t even know me.”

“I never offer a job without knowing a prospective employee’s abilities. I’ve researched you. Your training is exemplary, your reputation impeccable.”

“What kind of work would you want me to do?”

He saw the doubt, the worry behind the question. Her confidence had taken several blows. However, he knew enough to know she would be an asset. 

“With a few variations, much the same as what you were doing in Colorado.”

“Variations?” She cocked her head questioningly. No, Kathleen Callahan was not stupid or naïve. “All above board and legal?”

Grey gave her a small enigmatic smile. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

Kathleen stood in the middle of the apartment. Grey Justice had left a while ago but for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to gather the energy to move one more step. Getting a job offer on one of the worst days of her life was incomprehensible. At some point, her frozen brain would unthaw, and she would think about what he had offered her, what she had agreed to do. Facing a new job and a new city were inconsequential at this point. Everything was nothing.