Whatever It Takes (37 page)

“But if he doesn’t live in Chicago, what reason did he give to get you to go there?” Kathleen asked.

“A few months after we first spoke, he contacted me again. Said he was going to be in Chicago for several business meetings and if I could see my way to meeting him there, it would be most appreciated. Since I have other business interests there, I agreed.”

“But you decided not to go through with the deal?”

“I didn’t like the numbers. When James died, the stock went down. From my perspective, William was doing the wrong things to stop the decline. I made some suggestions—he didn’t like them. I bowed out, never heard from him again.”

Eli shook his head, still cursing himself for not seeing the setup sooner. “Never crossed my mind that he was manipulating me. The bastard, for whatever reason, wanted us to meet.”

“But why?” Kathleen asked. “And how could he even be sure we
would
meet?”

Trying to figure out an insane person’s motives was like walking through a minefield. “He knew Alice’s trial was being held. Knew I’d probably see it on the news. How he knew I’d be interested? I have no idea.”

“The chances of you two meeting were slim to none,” Justice said. “Probably wanted to see what might happen.”

“But he had to know that if we did meet, at some point we’d put two and two together.”

“True, but I doubt that he even considered that you would come to Dallas, or that you and Eli would fall in love.”

Eli didn’t bother to hold back a grin at the lovely blush coating Kathleen’s cheeks. Their relationship was still new to her, but he figured that would soon change. Once Johnson was behind bars, Eli planned to move mountains to make her his wife as soon as possible.

“So,” Nick said, “between the two of them, James and William Johnson are responsible for how many murders?”

“We’re certain of fifteen,” Kathleen said. “Including my father and my sister.”

“Sixteen,” Kennedy sent an apologetic look at Kathleen. “I know it’s hard to see Maureen Downey as a victim, but…”

“You’re right. I—” Kathleen swallowed. “No. You’re right.”

“I’d like to see William charged with every murder,” Eli said, “including the ones his father ordered. James might have been calling the shots, but William would’ve had knowledge of them, maybe even helped with the planning.”

“Agreed,” Justice said. “The DA’s office in Montpelier, Vermont, has every piece of information we’ve come up with. After he’s arrested, a search of his home and offices should give us enough evidence to do just that.”

“What about the murdering bitch he hired?” Eli asked.

“We’ll make sure Johnson tells us where we can find her,” Justice said. “We’ll get her.”

“You’re still convinced that this woman isn’t Irelyn?” Kathleen asked Justice.

“There’s no doubt in my mind. I’ve known her for years. Irelyn Raine is many things, but a cold-blooded killer, especially of innocents, is not one of them. When we—”  

Justice broke off when his cellphone buzzed. The instant he answered it, Eli knew something was wrong. The man’s grim expression didn’t give anything away other than what he was hearing was not good news. His answers to the caller were a terse and short, “Yes,” “No,” and “All right.”

When the call ended, Justice pressed a speed-dial number. Everyone remained silent, knowing whatever bad news he had just received, the man was already taking steps to correct the situation. 

Justice spoke into the phone. “Johnson’s in the wind.” His expression granite hard, he listened intently for several seconds and then said, “Good enough for me. Set it in motion. Call me if you need help.”

“How the hell—” Eli began.

Justice held up his hand to stop him as he pressed a button beside his chair.

“Yes, Mr. Justice?” 

Eli recognized the voice of Lily Turner, Grey’s pilot.

“Change of plans. We need to head to Tennessee instead. Winston will call you with the coordinates.”

“Very well, sir.” 

Eli wasn’t surprised at Lily’s serene response. From what he knew of the pilot, few things rattled her. He imagined that was an asset in working for Grey Justice.

Grey ended the call and then turned his attention to four pairs of questioning eyes.

 “The police went to arrest Johnson and found him missing. The bed was made, as if he’d never slept in it. Several personal items were missing, too. He left no note, no indication where he’d gone.”

“Dammit.” Eli blew out a disgusted sigh. “Someone tipped him off.”

“That’s my take.” Satisfaction glittered in Justice’s eyes. “Not that it’s going to do him any good.”

“How do you know he’s in Tennessee?” Kathleen asked.

“The man’s been planning this a long time. No way in hell he didn’t have a contingency plan.”

“As did you,” Eli answered.

“Of course.” Justice shrugged as if it was a foregone conclusion. “We’ll get to him before he has a chance to settle in.”

“And then?” Kathleen said.

“And then we strike.”

Chapter Forty-three

Great Smoky Mountains

East Tennessee

Flexibility and preparedness were the keys to a happy and long life. If William had a motto, that would be his. It paid to have contacts, especially in the DA’s office. When the call had come, warning him of the arrest warrant, he’d been ready to leave within the hour.

It was an inconvenience to have to leave his home but no real worry. What might be a devastating event to others was a minor nuisance for William. Just like his father, he was a man of great vision.

Truthfully he had been anticipating this since he’d made that silly maneuver in Chicago months before. As a disciplined man, such an indulgence went against everything he believed in. Which was probably one of the biggest reasons he was the least bit put out about it now. It had been avoidable, and he had only himself to blame.

His father would be disappointed in him for indulging in a bit of fun. James Johnson had been a strict disciplinarian who didn’t believe in frivolities. In the early years, the lack of lightness had been cumbersome. But William grew used to it and began to crave the harshness. The Johnsons were serious-minded, no-nonsense men. His mother, whom he barely remembered, had quietly faded away when William was just a boy. Then it had been just he and his father.

So yes, it had been a bit of fun he shouldn’t have allowed, and he was paying the price. But as he looked around his new surroundings, he couldn’t exactly complain. Nestled in the mountains, his hideaway had every amenity he’d had in Vermont, just on a smaller scale.

It would all work out fine. As a man of vision, there was no contingency he hadn’t thought of, no situation he couldn’t handle. While other men dreamed of doing great things, William simply and quietly did them.

He was also a man with a noble goal. Some goals were nobler than others. One might become a doctor to save lives. Another might become a world-famous opera singer to create beauty. And one might become a killer to rid the world of scum.

Not that William considered himself a killer. He’d never picked up a weapon in his life. In fact, if he held a gun in his hand, he’d be more likely to shoot himself than anyone else. No, he was most definitely not a killer.

But he was a promise keeper. He had made a vow and intended to keep it. If that wasn’t a worthwhile, noble cause, he didn’t know what was. A promise to his father. What could be more important than that?

It didn’t matter that his father was no longer living. Debts didn’t disappear, promises didn’t go away simply because of death. Promises had to be kept.

Almost from the time he’d been able to walk, comprehend words, he had heard about the hatred his father had for the men involved in the robberies. His father had been coerced, lied to. He’d been the youngest of the men, only seventeen. They had forced him to go along with them, and his life had been destroyed. All the other men had gone on to enjoy their lives and never had to pay the consequences. 

The measly amount of money they’d paid his father through the years had been nothing. A small, insignificant token, an acknowledgment of guilt. His father had accepted it as such, but then they had stopped paying. It had been an insult to turn their backs on the guilt they should have borne for the rest of their lives. When it became apparent that there was no remorse, probably never had been, his father’s path had become clear. They and their blood kin must all be destroyed.

William had learned to hate what his father hated. And even if death claimed him, as it had his beloved father, the vendetta would live on until it was finished. It was almost biblical, really. Well, with maybe a little twist. Sins of the father would be visited upon his children. The fathers were dead, many of the children had paid with their lives. So far, the Slaters, and one Callahan, had eluded justice. But that was about to end.

Of course they didn’t know that. They believed they’d won. But he would show them…he would show them all. He was a winner through and through. And they were the losers.

He glanced at the wall clock and deemed it a reasonable time to make the call. Even though he was paying the woman—she was his employee—he knew to be careful with her. One didn’t rile a wild dog.

Taking a burner phone from his desk drawer, he punched in a number, and felt a minor embarrassment at the resentment for having to punch in eleven numbers. He really had become quite spoiled.

She answered on the first ring and, as usual, got down to business. “The targets have become unreachable. We’ll need to wait until they come out of hiding before pursuing it further.”

“There’s been a development.”

The silence was his cue to continue. This one didn’t waste words.

“They know my identity.”

“How do you want me to proceed?”

She exhibited no worry or concern for his safety. He let the brief flash of anger pass. He didn’t pay her for fake platitudes, he paid for results.

“The plan hasn’t changed.”

“If you’re caught?”

“You’ll still be paid,” he answered a little irritably. Really, her uncaring attitude was a bit irksome.

“How?” If she heard the irritation in his tone, she didn’t let on. She had an agenda.

“I have a man in Geneva, Switzerland. With each fulfilled contract, he’ll wire you the appropriate funds.”

“Very well.”

“The gloves can now come off. Since they know who I am, accidents or subterfuge are no longer required. Feel free to do what you must, any way you prefer. Take out the whole damn family with one fell swoop if you like.”

“That will make things easier.”

For the first time since their association began, he heard a hint of emotion in her tone. One that sounded distinctly like condescension.

Deciding to ignore the mild insult, William went on, “The contract continues, no matter what happens. Even if I’m dead. Even if years pass, I want the job completed. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly.” The line went dead.

William dropped the phone on the desk beside him, unsurprised to see his hands shaking. She might be his employee, but the truth was, she scared the hell out of him. 

Chapter Forty-four

High on a mountain, secluded deep in the dense woods, with only a small access road, the large stone and log home was a formidable well-hidden fortress, blending into the background as if it were part of the forest itself. Anyone looking with the naked eye wouldn’t be able to see it, even from the sky.

But William Johnson wasn’t nearly as clever as he believed. Locating the hideaway had been no challenge for Grey’s researchers. Within an hour of being given the assignment, his people had found it. 

As far as hideouts went, it was luxurious to the point of ostentatious. Johnson most likely believed he was roughing it. The man enjoyed his luxuries.

Grey knew his own lifestyle could be considered quite lush, but it hadn’t always been so. When he’d first come to the States, he’d had to scratch and scrape for everything. 

William Johnson had inherited his wealth, and if allowed to continue unencumbered, he would lose most of that wealth within a couple of years or so. The man was a piss-poor businessman. But they weren’t going to give him the chance to go bankrupt. The bastard was going down. Tonight.

“We’re set?” Grey said it a low voice.

“Yes.” Standing on one side of him, Nick said, “Place is surrounded. Two deputies covering the back. One on each side, if he decides to go through a window. Eli, Kathleen, and I have the front.”

“The sheriff and I will go in first,” Grey said. “Once he’s secure, I’ll let you know.”

“I still don’t like this,” Eli said behind him. “The asshole could have any number of traps set.”

Grey didn’t like it either, but he’d had to compromise to get the cooperation of the local law. “He might not blink at hiring a killer, but Johnson is about as physically dangerous as a mouse. Besides, this guy thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. He doesn’t believe for a second that his hideout could be found, so there’s no reason for him to set traps. Bastard is sure he’s safe.”

With a grim nod to the sheriff, they started toward the house. He was well aware that two of the people behind him deserved to be going in with him. Grey planned to make sure they got their pound of flesh.

A gung-ho, damn-the-torpedoes method could be a helluva lot more efficient but didn’t always produce the needed results. William Johnson had information they needed to find the killer he’d hired. The fake Irelyn. The very concept infuriated him. When she was caught, Grey planned to spend a few moments alone with her. He had his own theories of why she was impersonating Irelyn. He’d damn well get answers.

“I’ll knock on the door,” the sheriff said. “You stand to the side.”

Sheriff Ronald Sanders was nobody’s fool. His faded blue eyes held both wisdom and knowledge. With the scruff of a beard covering half his face and a body the size of a grizzly, he didn’t need the nine-millimeter in his hand to look intimidating. Despite Grey’s frustration of having to play by the rules, if the authorities had to be involved, he was glad it was a man like Sanders.