Authors: Brenda Jackson
Nine
“T
hanks for coming, Ben.”
Ben nodded as he dropped into the chair across the table from Sheppard Granger. Ben had been a cop long enough to see how unusual Sheppard's accommodations were. First of all, most inmates don't get to use a private conference room to meet with anyone, and they definitely aren't offered one as spacious as this one. Ben recalled this room from his previous visit with Sheppard.
He'd noted that the room was adjacent to the prison library. It was a huge, windowless room that Ben figured was some sort of conference room used by the warden and the parole board to determine the fate of inmates.
And the guard, the same one who had been there the last time, and who was the only other person in the room, was only there for show. He hadn't called Sheppard out on any violations, like when they had shaken hands. Under normal circumstances, there would be a no-touching policy.
From what Jace had shared with Ben, he knew that a few years ago the warden had given permission for Sheppard Granger to be alone for any meetings with his attorney or close family members. That privilege wasn't given to all prisoners, just those considered trustworthy. Evidently, Sheppard Granger had found favor with both the warden and the governor, who would have to approve such rights and honors before they were extended to Granger.
Ben got comfortable in his chair while studying the man sitting across from him. He and Granger were the same height, although he figured Granger was probably a few pounds heavier. However, it was obvious he used the gym regularly and seemed fit and healthy. And then there was that same air that had surrounded him the last time. This was a man who had not only accepted his fate fifteen years ago, but had worked hard to deal with it in a positive way, too. Ben doubted most men could have pulled something like that off and seriously doubted that he could have.
“Over the phone, you said something about needing my help,” Ben said, breaking the silence in the room.
“Yes. But first I want to say something, and it's something you need to hear straight from me.”
“Which is?”
“I didn't kill my wife.”
Ben wasn't sure why Sheppard wanted to see him, but with that opening, he knew there was no time for formalities. And there was no time for cat-and-mouse games. “I honestly didn't think that you did,” Ben replied.
He saw relief etched on Granger's face when he said, “Thank you.”
Ben shook his head. “You've been locked up for fifteen years for a crime you didn't commit, yet you're thanking me?”
“Yes, because you believed me when a jury didn't.”
“But to be fair to the jury, you didn't allow your attorney to introduce evidence that could have swayed them.” At the lifting of Sheppard's brow, Ben could only smile and say, “Your son was marrying my daughter, so I couldn't help but be curious. You can chalk it up to the ex-cop and the ex-detective in me.”
Sheppard didn't say anything for a moment as he stared at Ben. “Had I done that, it would have dirtied my wife's name. She was the mother of my sons, and I couldn't do that to them.”
“But you could do this to yourself?” Ben asked. “Take a rap you didn't deserve?”
“Yes, if it meant keeping them safe.”
“Or sheltered?” Ben countered.
“Or sheltered.” Sheppard Granger paused a moment before saying, “The reason I called you here is about keeping them safe. I understand there was a meeting last night.”
“So I heard, since I wasn't invited. I spoke to Shana briefly this morning, but it was my younger daughter, Jules, who filled me in on most of it.”
“Your younger daughter was there?”
“Yes. In fact, she's the one who spotted that guy following Dalton. She was parked across the street, waiting for him to come home last night.”
“Oh.”
Ben chuckled softly. “Trust me. It's not what you think.”
“It's not?” Sheppard asked with eyes that didn't hide his interest.
“No. In fact, I'm convinced she hates Dalton's guts...probably just as much as he hates hers. Their first meeting some months back left a very negative and lasting impression on both of them. The only reason she was there was to confront him about his refusal to attend Shana's first dinner party this Saturday night.”
Sheppard frowned. “Why wouldn't he attend?”
“Because he knew Jules would be there. It's a long and taxing story. So let's just say we have two kids who love each other, and then there are two who can't stand the ground the other walks on.”
Sheppard didn't say anything for a moment. “I assume you know about the bodyguards I hired to protect my sons.”
“Yes, and I'm sure you know they aren't thrilled about it.”
“So I gather. My warden gave me a message that they called. By then, I had already spoken to my attorney, and she'd given me the details. They are waiting for me to return their call, but I wanted to talk to you first. Get some advice.”
Ben lifted a brow. “Advice? Shouldn't you consult your attorney for that?”
“Not for this. I need the advice of an ex-cop, one who was honored as Policeman of the Year four times. And one who would have had a great career as a detective if he hadn't put his daughters first and resign after a couple of years to go back to being a cop to spend more time at home with them.”
At the widening of Ben's eyes, Sheppard smiled. “My son was marrying your daughter, so I did some research of my own.”
Ben laughed. “Fair enough. So why am I here?”
At that moment the prison guard Ben remembered from the last visit, Ambrose, crossed the room and handed Sheppard a piece of paper. He took it and glanced at it before handing it to Ben. “This is the reason for the bodyguards. I know I didn't kill my wife, but someone else did. And that someone doesn't like the thought of my leaving here anytime soon.”
Ben glanced down at the paper and read it. It was an email that had been sent to Sheppard. He didn't like the words. He didn't like the tone and he sure as hell didn't like the blatant threat.
Granger. You don't know me, but I know you. If I were you, I would make sure your sons don't get it into their heads to prove your innocence. Something tragic could happen.
Ben lifted his gaze. “Have you shown this to the prison officials?”
“Yes, Warren Smallwood is aware of it. My attorney was able to trace it to a public computer in the Wesconnett Library.”
Ben nodded. Wesconnett was a community on the outskirts of Charlottesville.
“I never wanted them to find out about that email.”
Ben shrugged. “So now they have, and according to Jules, threat or no threat, they intended to fight to have your case reopened.”
“I can't let them do that.”
“Not sure you can stop them.”
“I must. They have more than just themselves to think about. Jace and Caden now have wives and weâyou and Iâhave a grandbaby on the way. I don't know who or what I'm dealing with here, Ben. And I don't want anything to happen to my family. Which is now
our
family.”
Ben didn't say anything for a long moment as he stared at Sheppard, understanding completely what he was saying. “What is it you want me to do, Sheppard?”
“My sons won't like what I intend to tell them when we meet, but it can't be helped. Their lives are a lot more important than mine. I can't allow them to reopen my case. I'm hoping you will get through to them where I might fail.”
Ben lifted a brow. “I don't know your other two sons that well. Just Jace.”
“And that's a good start. Jace is levelheaded, and Caden and Dalton respect his leadership. If you can convince Jace of the danger, not just to himself but to Shana and their child, he might see reason.”
“And if I can't get him to come around?”
Sheppard heaved a deep breath. “I don't even want to think of that possibility, Ben.”
* * *
The lone figure stood on the opposite side of the street and glanced up at the impressive building, sizing it up as if it were a person. A person who would eventually have to be dealt with.
Granger Aeronautics.
The weather was cold, and evening would be settling in soon and making it even colder. History was about to repeat itself. Sheppard Granger had been warned, but it seemed he couldn't keep his sons in line. Keep them from sticking those noses where they didn't belong. If the case were to be reopened all the players would be exposed, and that couldn't happen.
Cold eyes watched as Granger employees hurriedly left the building. The workday was over, and it was time to go home. A new plan had been implemented, one more sinister than the last. Before it was over, additional lives would be lost.
Fifteen years had passed, and it was time to once again take care of business.
Ten
W
hy had he agreed with Jace and Caden that they should ride in the same car to Delvers?
Dalton thought to himself while trying to stretch his legs in the confined space. They had put him in the backseat when they knew his legs were longer than theirs. They had the air conditioner turned on full blast when it was cold outside. Were they trying to freeze his ass? This little trip was definitely not off to a good start.
“Are you whining back there?” Jace had the nerve to ask while eyeing him through the rearview mirror.
“What does it sound like?” he snapped, his gaze narrowing.
“Sounds like you're whining.”
“Go to hell.”
Caden wasn't saying anything, and it only took Dalton a few seconds to realize he was asleep. When his brothers had arrived at his condo to pick him up...thirty minutes late...both Jace and Caden had been wide-awake and in extremely good moods. How dare Caden sleep in the front seat while he was in the back, frozen and miserable? Glowering, he leaned forward and smacked his brother on the back of his head.
“What the hell?” Caden jerked around with a murderous look on his face. He rubbed his head. “What did you hit me for?”
Dalton shrugged. “You were sleeping. If I can't sleep, then you can't, either.”
Caden switched his gaze to Jace. “Pull over to the side of the road so I can whip his ass.”
Jace chuckled. “Don't have time. Not if we want to meet with Dad at the scheduled time.”
“And whose fault is it that we're running late?” Dalton sneered. He'd already figured out the reason for the delay. Jace had been smiling all morning. “I just don't understand you and your wife. She's pregnant already. Give it a rest.”
Jace shook his head. “You're really in a bad mood today. Some woman rub you the wrong way?”
“Or didn't rub you at all,” Caden suggested with a smirk.
Dalton rolled his eyes, deciding Caden's comment didn't deserve a response. “So how did Dad sound, Jace?” Dalton had gotten a call from Jace around eight last night saying their dad had finally returned his call and wanted to meet with them at ten this morning.
“Agitated. He wouldn't go into any details over the phone, but you can bet he will try to talk us out of reopening his case.”
“When doves cry,” Dalton snorted.
“Glad we're all in agreement,
Prince
,” Caden said, still rubbing the back of his head. “So are we still being followed?”
Dalton glanced through the car's back window. “No reason we wouldn't be. Those three guys take this bodyguard thing seriously. At least Stonewall's no longer hiding. He joined me for a drink yesterday at McQueen's.”
“He did?” Jace asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror again.
“Yes, and please keep your eyes on the road and not on me. Jeez. Do I need to drive?”
“Hell, no,” Jace and Caden said simultaneously.
“Besides, I don't know why you're whining, anyway,” Jace said, turning on the car's blinker to exit off the interstate to the state road that would take them to Delvers. “That little red toy you drive is nothing but a death trap. You probably have more space in my backseat than you do in that entire car.”
“Yes, but you can't beat the turbo power. Driving my toy is the next best thing to fucking a woman.”
Caden turned around with a silly grin on his face. “If you believe that, then you aren't with the right woman.”
Dalton held back the words he really wanted to say. Saying them would be too easy, and he wouldn't waste his time, mainly because what Caden said had struck a nerve. His love life really sucked lately. The women were there aplenty, easy as Sunday morning and ready and willing, but his interest wasn't. It was as if that one kiss with Jules had affected his entire body. Definitely one part in particular. All it took was for him to remember his tongue tangling with hers, and he would get hard and be consumed with a sexual need the likes of which he'd never felt before.
“We're here.”
He glanced ahead as Jace pulled through the gates of Delvers Correctional Center. It would be the first time he'd seen his father since admitting to his brothers that he'd known about their mother's affair. It was a secret he'd held for almost twenty years, and it was time to set it free.
* * *
“Good morning, Manning.”
“What's so good about it?”
Jules rolled her eyes. Evidently, it would be one of those mornings. Emanuel Carmichael, all six feet three inches and two hundred and five pounds of him, was her administrative assistant and a darned good one. Usually he was in a good mood, but not this morning. He and his partner must have had a tiff. Hell, if anyone should be in a bad mood, it was Jules. She had pulled out her little red book last night only to find that Ray Ford had remarried his wife as she'd suspected, and the next three prospects were now in serious relationships.
“Nothing, I guess. Sorry I asked,” she said, quickly moving to her office.
Once inside, she closed the door behind her and immediately headed for the coffeepot. At least Manning's anger hadn't stopped him from making sure she had coffee as usual. What would she do without him? She hoped she never had to find out. He helped to keep her day normal and ran her office like a charm during those times she was away.
They had gone through the police academy in Boston together, but he'd resigned after his first month on the streets, deciding he preferred an inside job shuffling papers to being outside shuffling criminals. Manning was too handsome for his own good and extremely well built, but his sexual preference relegated their relationship to a very close friendship. When she had followed her dad to Charlottesville and opened a private investigator's office, Manning, who had just split from his lover, decided that a change of scenery would do him good. They had opened this office together, and both did what they did best. He shuffled papers, and she still shuffled criminals, so to speak.
After her last grueling investigation, she had decided not to take on any new cases until the first of the year, so her days were spent closing out old files, doing follow-ups and filing reports. She'd also been summoned to court to testify on a kidnapping case she had solved a few months ago. That meant a trip to Miami next week. Hmm...a few days in South Beach sounded nice, considering the weather there and what she was dealing with here.
An hour later, after going over several reports and vouchers, Jules heard Manning's voice come across the intercom on her desk. “You have a visitor, Ms. Sweet.” And before he hung up, he said in a low voice, “Sweet Pea.”
Sweet Pea was a nickname she'd been given by other local PIs. Her agency was the J.B. Sweet Agency. It wasn't uncommon for private investigators to use fictitious names for privacy as well as protection. The last thing you want is for someoneâlike a deadbeat dad you've arrestedâto show up on your doorstep or in a dark alley. Nothing wrong with playing it safe. And since she was a woman and most people preferred having a man handle their investigative work, she used her first and last initials as well as her mother's maiden name, hence the moniker J. B. Sweet.
Jules frowned. She didn't have any appointments today, so it must be a walk-in. Why was Manning bothering her when all he had to do was tell the person she wasn't taking on any new cases until after the holidays? “You better have a good reason for interrupting me, Manning.” She heard his chuckle.
Chuckle?
Hadn't he been in a sour mood just moments ago?
“I do have a good reason,” Manning replied. “It's Mr. B.”
“Dad?” she asked, surprised. Not that he'd never come to her office, but lately his time had been filled with Mona, Mona and more Mona.
“Yes, the one and only. Can I send him in?”
“Of course.” She was already out of her seat when her father opened the door and walked in.
“Dad, this is a surprise. Were you in the area or something?”
Ben shook his head as he sat in the chair opposite her desk. “No. There's something I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” she said, moving to sit back in her chair. Her father seemed intense for some reason. “Is everything okay with Mona?”
He lifted a brow. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“Because you seem bothered by something, and you rushed off quickly yesterday after you got her call.”
Ben heaved a deep sigh. “That call I got yesterday wasn't from Mona.”
“It wasn't?”
“No. It was from Sheppard Granger.”
Jules's mouth fell open. “Sheppard Granger called you from prison?”
“Yes, and he wanted me to come see him.”
“Why?”
“To tell me he didn't kill his wife and to explain why he'd hired those bodyguards.”
“Why did he feel the need to confess that he didn't kill his wife to you? And as far as those bodyguards go, we already know why he hired them. He thinks his sons' lives are in danger.”
Instead of answering her inquiry just yet, Ben added, “He also showed me the actual email he received. It was traced to a public computer in the Wesconnett Library. Under the circumstances, if I had gotten that email, I would have reacted the same way he did.”
Jules nodded. “But why did he request a meeting with you? He could have told you all that over the phone.”
“Yes, but it was more a man-to-man sort of meeting. We have a lot in common.”
“I doubt that.”
“You've never met Sheppard Granger. If you ever get the chance, I think you'd be surprised.”
She decided to move on instead of disagreeing with her father. “There has to be more.”
“Yes, and I think you know where we're headed with this.”
Jules shifted in her seat. “Possibly, but why don't you tell me, anyway?”
“Since Sheppard Granger didn't kill his wife, that opens up a lot of questions about who did.”
“I'm listening,” she said but really wished she didn't have to. There was no reason to tell her dad that she'd been dissecting what little information she had in her mind already, ever since that night at Dalton's house.
“Whoever actually killed Sylvia Granger is still out there and doesn't want to be exposed. And Sheppard believes it has nothing to do with his wife's affairs.”
“Then what does it have to do with?”
“Not sure if he even knows, but he doesn't want to take any chances. He's meeting with his sons this morning and will try to convince them to back off from reopening his case.”
“Do you think they will do that?”
“I don't know. What do you think?”
Jules pulled in a deep breath. “They were pretty adamant about reopening his case the other night, although Carson Boyett told them their father would be against it.”
Ben didn't say anything for a minute. “My main concern is Shana. She's married to Jace, so anything that concerns him concerns her.”
“True,” Jules said, not liking that thought. “Have you talked to her?”
“No, she went into the office today. Besides, I'd rather talk to her and Jace together. But I'll wait to see what Sheppard's sons decide to do. They might go along with his suggestion to back off.”
Jules couldn't see that happening and had a feeling her father couldn't see it, either. “And if they don't?”
“He's asked me to talk to them.”
Jules snickered. “If he thinks you might have a chance to succeed where he's failed, then he doesn't know his sons. I think their minds are made up, and nothing and no one is going to stop them.”
* * *
After giving each of them bear hugs, Sheppard gazed into the eyes of the three men he was proud to claim as his sons. When he'd left them in the care of their grandfather fifteen years ago, they had been youngâtoo young to fully understand the impact his incarceration would have on their lives. Unfortunately, they'd had to learn the hard way that some people they had thought were friends truly weren't, and that when the going got tough, those fake friends were the first to get going. But through it all, they had survived. They had bright futures ahead of them, and he couldn't risk anything happening to those futures just to prove his innocence.
“Dad,” Jace said in a soft tone, filled with emotion. “It's good seeing you.”
“Yeah, Dad, it's always good to see you,” Caden tacked on.
“Dad, Iâ”
He held up his hand to stop whatever words Dalton was about to say. “Doesn't matter, son. You're here now, and that's all that matters to me. It's good seeing all three of you. Come, let's sit down. We need to talk and agree on a few things.”
“We'll talk, Dad, but we're not sure we'll agree,” Jace said, moving forward to take the first chair.
Sheppard waited until all three sons were seated before taking the chair across from them. As usual, Ambrose Cheney stood at the door. The man was more to Shep than just a prison guard. Over the years, they'd become friends. Ambrose had three sons who were the same ages Shep's sons had been when he'd been sent away. Ambrose never enforced the “no touching” policy whenever Shep's sons came to visit, because he fully understood the need for bear hugs.
“I guess you know we've met your new attorney,” Dalton didn't waste time saying. “She's a very nice-looking woman, and it's obvious she's smart.”
Sheppard smiled. “Yes, Carson is very attractive and a superb attorney. She's also intelligent and trustworthy.”
“She's also in love with you,” Dalton said, ignoring the kick to the leg he received under the table from Caden.
Sheppard stared across the table at his sons, who were staring back. “I'm in love with her, as well.” As if his relationship with Carson was a closed subject, he quickly moved on to the next. “I understand you've met Striker, Stonewall and Quasar.”