A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(15)

Giving a nod of thanks to the young man, along with a hefty tip, Grey ushered Lacey out the door. Morrissey’s burning stare as Grey exited made no impression. The man had bilked millions of dollars from his employees and had been caught. Justice wasn’t always slow.

In a matter of moments, he and Lacey were settled in his BMW and headed out of the parking lot.

“That was intense back there,” Lacey said.

“He’s a sad sack.” Grey shrugged. There was not much more he could say about the man. “Still living in the apartment on Tracer Avenue?”

“Yes.”

Instead of turning right out of the convention center, which would have taken him back to his apartment, he went left to head toward Lacey’s place a few miles from the city. He made a mental note to keep an eye on Morrissey. That much anger inside a bitter man had a tendency to erupt in unexpected ways.



The shooter quickly and efficiently set up the tripod and rifle at the new location. When the call had come that his target would be taking a different route home, he hadn’t been that concerned. Even though his job required careful planning, he wouldn’t be very good at it if he didn’t allow for last-minute changes or variances. In his estimation, if a man was willing to pay a million dollars for a job, he had a right to make a few changes. This one had required that he hightail it across town. He had been assured the target would be delayed, giving him the extra setup time. It had worked out well.

Setting up at night on a busy overpass with vehicles zipping up and down the road wasn’t optimal, but he’d had worse conditions. Being seen was the biggest concern, but he was good at hiding in plain sight. Besides, people were usually so busy with their cellphones and their own issues, he was invisible to most of them. For the one or two who might notice him, he would improvise. His teacher had trained him to lie, manipulate, and, if all else failed, kill without remorse. He had been an excellent student.

This particular subject had been targeted several times in the past. All attempts had failed. This was the first time he’d been given the opportunity, and he wasn’t going to fail. Grey Justice had finally pissed off the wrong person, and that person knew the organization to call to get the job done. The fact that he didn’t know the identity of the moneyman worried him not at all. Receiving the agreed-upon amount when the job was done was his only concern.

Setup complete, he used the rest of the time to adjust the sight. A moving target was more challenging than a still one. With his last assignment a month ago, he was at twenty-three kills, and more than half of them had been moving targets. He prided himself on achieving his goals even when obstacles appeared. Targeting a black vehicle at night in dim lighting could be difficult, but he had made arrangements, ensuring his success. He’d have no problems spotting the BMW.

The passenger in the vehicle was of no concern. If anything, she added a bit more excitement to the mix. Her family had been targeted before, and there would be speculation that she was the target and not her companion. The thought of people scratching their heads, trying to determine who had been the real target was amusing. Not that it really mattered. Either way, they’d both be dead in the next five minutes.



They’d talked about everything from who should have been in the NBA playoffs to the new hairstyle Lacey’s mother, Eleanor, was now sporting. He hadn’t asked what she’d meant by her comment earlier, and it bothered him that he hadn’t. Had she been talking about Irelyn when she said that not every woman would wait forever? What did that even mean?

He was known for his confrontations and blunt talk, so why the hell didn’t he find out if she’d been talking about Irelyn?

“Has Irelyn been in touch with you?”

“Why would Irelyn contact me?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Is this an inquisition?”

“Of course not. I just—”

The car in front of him abruptly switched lanes. Grey braked and swerved to avoid clipping its bumper. Bam! Fire and smoke exploded from under the hood. Grey slammed on his brakes, but the car didn’t slow. He tried to steer toward the side of the road. Nothing.

“What’s going on?” Lacey asked.

“I think someone took a shot at us. Brakes and steering are gone. I’m going to try—”

The concrete wall of the overpass loomed before them. Thrusting his arm out to protect Lacey as much as possible, Grey shouted, “Hold on!”

A split second later, the car slid sideways and slammed into the wall.



Knowing he could be seen by curious passersby stopping to gawk at the wreckage, he swiftly and efficiently packed up his gear. He’d missed his target. That was a first for him, and he was irritated. The small opaque sticker he’d placed on the windshield was invisible to the human eye until it came into direct contact with light. Headlights from surrounding vehicles had done their job, and he had spotted the sticker without any trouble. The headshot would have been perfect if Justice’s car had not swerved.

He consoled himself that Justice and the Slater girl were likely dead from the crash. The money had been earned. But he prided himself on getting the job done in the specified manner. Instead, the bullet had penetrated something beneath the vehicle. He liked preciseness and predictability when it came to his job. This one hadn’t pleased him at all.