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Authors: Christy Reece

Tags: #Mystery, #Romantic Suspense

Whatever It Takes (7 page)

BOOK: Whatever It Takes
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It was over. Her baby sister, her only family, the girl she had raised from an infant was gone. Her very own special angel. 

Like a tidal wave, everything came crashing down on her at once. The exhaustion, the guilt, the overwhelming need to scream out in agony. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor with a loud, jagged cry. Covering her face with her hands, she rocked back and forth and sobbed. The soul wrenching sounds echoing around her, mocking her aloneness. A taunt that she had failed her sister once again.

Alice had looked at peace today. So sweet, so incredibly innocent as she lay in that hideous box. Even though it had been a surprisingly nice one, it was still a box. The funeral director had explained about an overstock or something that had enabled him to sell her the coffin at a greatly discounted price. Odd how finding a bargain had always cheered her up before. But not this one. Not this.

Nevertheless she was grateful she had been able to give Alice this one last thing. A nice send-off for a girl who’d never had a lot and had died too young. A precious angel who had made mistakes but hadn’t been a bad person—just human.

Raising her head, Kathleen looked around the sparse room, ignoring the hideousness of it for once. Her eyes zeroed in on her hiding place, the one spot she believed was safe from thieves, where she had secreted away the last thing that meant anything to her. Her memories.

Though she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her, she refused to allow herself the luxury of crawling. She pushed herself to stand and though her feet shuffled on the threadbare carpet as if she were a century old, she counted it a win that she was even moving.

She removed one of the cushions from the couch and pulled back the material from the bottom. This decrepit sofa had been here when she’d moved into the apartment. It had given her landlord the ability to charge an extra ten bucks a month for a ‘furnished’ apartment. Ridiculous yes, but it had served its purpose. As large as it was and the condition it was in, no way in hell would anyone ever try to steal the thing. She had figured the massive couch was safe from even the most desperate of thieves.

In between rusted springs and rotting material was where she’d stored her last treasure. She pulled the small box out and held it to her chest. This was all she had left. 

Replacing the cushion, she dropped onto the couch, ignoring the additional splits she’d just added to the fake leather upholstery. With shaking hands, she lifted the lid and peered down into the faces of those she’d loved. Forever in her heart, no longer in her life.

As silent tears streamed down her face, Kathleen carefully examined each photograph, remembering the moment each one was taken. The laughter, the tears, the moments that didn’t seem all that special at the time but were now priceless and beautiful. She wanted to reach out and grab each one of them back, hold it in her hand and cherish it. 

She lovingly fingered the two doll dresses that she hadn’t been able to part with. She had often used her doll clothes to dress her sister. These two frilly, nonsensical dresses had been her favorites.   

Had she ever told Alice how thankful she was for her? Kathleen had been a devastated little girl who had just lost her mother. Daniel Callahan had been too grief stricken himself to offer much comfort. So she had poured out all of her love and devotion to her baby sister. She had devoured books on infants and baby care, determined to be the best sister she could be. Alice had been her lifesaver. Had she ever told her how important she was? Had Alice known how much she loved her? How grateful she was for her? The questions would haunt her forever.

Half an hour later, she whispered a soft goodbye to her family, then closed the box and returned it to its hiding place.

Standing straight, resolve settled into her mind and her heart. She would go to Dallas, do the job she was hired to do, and take advantage of Grey Justice’s offer. She would find justice for Alice. 

But never again would she allow herself the vulnerability or the luxury of loving anyone. Loving meant losing, at least for the Callahans. Never again.

Chapter Seven

 

Three months later

Hiram Clemens State Correctional Facility

Enid, Texas

The heavy, steel door closed with a loud, reverberating clang. Eli barely refrained from wincing as the sound invoked a memory he could’ve lived without. Barely a year ago, he’d been visiting his brother Jonah in prison. And today, he was visiting another brother. The last person he wanted to see was Adam, but he had to get some answers. For his children, he’d face Satan himself. 

The small room was dingy and smelled of a strong disinfectant that couldn’t completely cover the years of piss and vomit the room had endured. He sat in a chair that looked about fifty years old and creaked in protest when he eased his big body into it. The chipped, wood table before him was covered in crude drawings and carved profanities. The fact that many of them were misspelled struck him as amusing. He didn’t know why.

The door opened, and his oldest brother shuffled into the room. The changes in Adam weren’t as notable as they’d been on Jonah. Maybe because Jonah was innocent—framed by his own father and imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit. Adam was most definitely guilty—responsible for more than what he’d been convicted for. Maybe that was the difference. That and the fact that Adam Slater had little to no conscience.

“Well, if it isn’t St. Eli coming to visit his big brother in the slammer. Miss me, little brother?”

“Adam.” Eli gave him a stiff nod of acknowledgment.  

“To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?”

Eli withdrew a copy of the email he’d received last night. It’d been burning a hole in his pocket and a deeper one in his gut.

“I received this yesterday. Care to explain?”

Adam glanced down at the vague but awful threats, then back at Eli. “What’s this got to do with me? I don’t know anything about it.”

“And I don’t believe you, Adam. If you didn’t send it, it’s a person you know. Someone you or Mathias did business with.” Eli leaned forward, glared hard. “Dammit, someone is threatening our family…my daughters…your nieces.”

“And I should care…why?”

It was all Eli could do not to take the bastard’s head off. “They’re your family, too, Adam. My children are just babies. You remember them, don’t you? The children of the woman you killed?”

What could only be called a smirk appeared on Adam’s face. “Now I thought we’d already gotten past that. No one has proof of any such thing.”

“I know what Mathias told me.”

“Oh yeah? And when was that, Eli? When did Daddy spill all? And why would he tell you in the first place?”

Eli ground his teeth till they ached. Hell, he was getting in deep when he started spouting things he had no business saying. Just because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Adam had killed Shelley, he could do nothing about it. Mathias had told him only moments before he was shot and killed. The fact that Eli or any of his other family members had been around when that happened was something he would take to his grave. Not even Adam knew the truth of what happened that night. God only knew what his brother would do with that kind of information.

Eli had already come to terms that Shelley would never get the justice she deserved. All he could do was console himself that Adam, her murderer, would be in prison for the rest of his life. That had to be enough.

He redirected the conversation back to the reason he was here. “Do you know who sent this email, Adam? Who would make these threats?”

Sprawled out in his chair, Adam looked as though he was relaxing in his luxurious home as opposed to wearing an orange jumpsuit and sitting in a vile-smelling prison visitors’ room. “What’s it worth to you?”

Eli lunged across the table, going for his brother’s throat. He squeezed hard, watching Adam’s ugly brown eyes bulge. Seconds later, three guards rushed in, pulling Eli back. One brutish-looking guard with a billystick in his giant hand growled, “We got a problem here?”

As much as he’d like to grab the stick and beat Adam within an inch of his life, Eli knew he could do no such thing. 

“No…officer,” Eli said. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

The man nodded at the two guards holding Eli’s arms. “Let him go.”

They released him, and Eli seated himself again. The instant the men walked out of the room, Adam smiled. “I see you’ve managed to influence someone here. Anyone else would’ve been thrown out the door.”

Yeah, he’d greased some palms for the guards to look the other way if he happened to get a little physical. They wouldn’t, however, let him get away with beating the hell out of an inmate. Too bad, because he’d never felt as much hatred as he did for the man in front of him. It sickened him to his bones that they shared the same blood…the same last name.

“Since you’ve seen that I do have some influence here, you might want to reevaluate your answer. Do you know who would threaten the family?”

The amusement dropped from Adam’s face. “You’ve pissed off a lot of people. Any one of them could be seeking revenge. And before you ask for names, keep in mind that Mathias was screwing people long before I came into this world. The things I did weren’t a drop in the bucket compared to what he got away with.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re the only Slater available for anyone to seek retribution against. Jonah’s on some kind of self-healing sabbatical. Mama and Lacey have disappeared, and no one can find them.”

The words sparked Eli’s interest. “And how do you know this, Adam? Have you been trying to find them?”

“Hell if I care where they are. Neither one of them has had the decency to even write me, see how I’m doing.”

“Answer the question. Why your sudden interest in a family you’ve had as little to do with as possible? We both know Mathias was the only one you wanted to be around.”

Adam shrugged. “We have televisions here, too, Eli. You ever watch the local news? Rarely a week goes by when someone doesn’t do some kind of story about one of us.” He smirked and added, “Apparently, you’ve lost a lot of the family’s money.”

“You mean I’ve lost a lot of dirty money. It’s taken me a year to clean up the shit you and Mathias created.”

“Don’t matter to me if you end up living in a double-wide outside Dallas.”

“If it was a choice between living on blood money or in a double-wide, I damn well know what choice I would make.”

“Whatever.”

“Who’s making these threats?”

“Like I said, I don’t have a clue. With nobody around but you and your brats, you’re the easiest target.”

“I’ve accepted that I will always be a target. But I’ll be damned if I’ll allow my children or the rest of the family to suffer any more than they already have for what you and Mathias did. Now tell me who hates you enough to want to come after us.”

With a harsh rush of air, Adam expelled a weary sigh. His eyes went even duller than their usual murky brown, and for the first time Eli saw sadness and maybe even a hint of regret. “I’m telling the truth. I don’t know. Whether you believe me or not, Daddy set me up to be the patsy for everything, but I knew almost nothing about that side of his business.”

“Your hands are far from clean, Adam.”

“Maybe so. But the things I did barely got me noticed in those circles. Daddy was the ringleader.”

Eli knew that was true. For whatever reason, known only to Mathias himself, their father had set up his oldest son to take the fall for a boatload of illegal activities. Not only did Adam not have the brains to do all those things, there was no way in hell Mathias would have allowed him that kind of power. Since Mathias hadn’t known he was going to die, no one knew for certain if he would have allowed the charges to stick.

Still, Eli had absolutely no sympathy for his brother. Plenty of crimes had been attributed to him, including conspiracy to commit murder. And the one crime Adam was responsible for that could never be proven was one Eli wanted to kill his brother over. If it wouldn’t leave his children without a parent, Eli knew full well he might have done just that. 

Correctly identifying the hatred in Eli’s eyes, Adam shook his head. “Hate me all you want, brother, but you’re better off without her. Shelley loved only two things. Booze and pills.”

“And you made damn sure she had plenty of both that last day, didn’t you?”

His mouth twitched as though he was fighting a grin. “She went out with a smile on her face.”

Rolling his chair back, Eli shot to his feet. He had to get the hell out of here before he committed murder. “You might never pay for Shelley’s death, but your worthless ass will rot in this prison for the rest of your useless life.”

A small enigmatic look crossed Adam’s face but was gone in an instant. Shrugging, he said, “If you say so.”

Eli walked out without a backward glance. Coming here had been futile. How stupid to think that his brother would willingly give him any helpful information. Adam would only ever have one love and that was himself.

He maintained an expressionless demeanor until he reached his car. Once inside, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel and cursed virulently in every language he knew. He’d known going in that it was pointless, but he’d had to at least try.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at the readout and then hit answer. “Justice, you got anything?”

“The email came from a computer inside the prison, just like the others. My tech who traced it said this one was almost insulting, it was so easy to track.”

“The first one a few months back wasn’t so easy to trace. Why’d he change? He knew I’d have it traced.”

“We both know your brother isn’t the brightest criminal in the world.”

Too true. Which was probably one of the reasons it had been so damn easy for Mathias to frame his son. Adam had been their father’s confidant and co-conspirator for years. And in the end, he’d been his scapegoat.

 Eli shoved his fingers through his hair. No use going back and confronting his brother with the truth. He blew out a sigh, releasing the tension that had built over the last hour. “So we’re set for tomorrow night?”

BOOK: Whatever It Takes
10.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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