A Lover's Vow Page 9

  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 someone—like a deadbeat dad you’ve arrested—to 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 young—too 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, I—”

  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.”

  Caden nodded. “Nice guys.”

  “No-nonsense types,” Jace chimed in.

  “Real badasses,” Dalton added. When his brothers frowned over at him, he raised his chin. “Well, they are.”

  “They
’re good men,” Sheppard said, his gaze moving from one son to the other. “I would trust them with my life, though I wish I didn’t have to trust them with yours.”

  Dalton thought that statement said a lot. “You should have told us about them.”

  “I couldn’t. I needed to keep the three of you safe.”

  Caden shook his head. “We aren’t kids who need protecting, Dad.”

  Sheppard nodded. “Not kids, but you do need protecting.”

  “Why?” Jace asked. “Because of some email you received?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’ll protect ourselves. Thanks to you and Granddad, we’ve gone hunting enough times to know how to handle firearms.”

  “That might not be enough. You have no idea what your mother was involved in.”

  Dalton lifted a brow and met his father’s gaze. “Do you?”

  Eleven

  The entire room grew quiet, and all eyes were on Sheppard, studying his expression to see what sort of reaction Dalton’s question had engendered. Sheppard drew in a deep breath, deciding to be completely honest.

  “No, and trust me, I’ve had fifteen years to ponder it, replay the weeks, months and days leading up to Sylvia’s death. Trying to remember her actions, recall anything unusual she might have said or done. But my mind goes blank.”

  He paused a minute and then said, “I do know that it was during that time when Granger Aeronautics was at its peak. We had government contracts coming in from left and right, and we’d just finished work on our first supersonic combustion engine. The model had been unveiled the year before. Everything was going great.” Except for my marriage. And Sheppard refused to discuss just how terrible his relationship with their mother had become during that time.

  “There are a lot of unanswered questions, Dad. So we hope you understand why we want to reopen your case,” Jace said, leaning forward in his seat to stare directly into his father’s eyes.

  Instead of answering, his father handed him a slip of paper that had been lying on the corner of the table. “I don’t want you to do that for this reason,” Sheppard said.

  Jace read the contents on the paper before passing it on to Caden, who skimmed it quickly and passed it on to Dalton. When Dalton saw his father frown, he figured that neither he nor his brothers had reacted the way their father had expected.

  “So someone has threatened to kill us,” Jace said casually.

  “Yes, so hopefully now you understand why you can’t reopen the case.”

  “Sorry, but we don’t understand,” Jace countered. “The one thing I think the three of us remember before you left for prison is that you always told us when the going got tough, that’s when the tough got going. You said never to back away from a fight.”

  Sheppard nodded. “Yes, and I also recall telling you to choose your battles wisely. I’m taking that note seriously, guys.”

  “So are we, Dad,” Caden said softly. “I would just love to meet the coward who wrote it. Evidently, there’s information surrounding Mom’s death he doesn’t want exposed.”

  “And if he killed once, what would stop him from killing again?” Sheppard interjected.

  “I dare him or anyone to mess with any of us,” Dalton said angrily, tossing the paper back down on the table.

  “What about your wives?”

  Dalton’s lips curved into a happy smile. “I don’t have one of those.”

  Sheppard rolled his eyes. “I was referring to your brothers.”

  “And what about our wives?” Caden asked, holding his father’s gaze captive.

  “If you reopen the case, this demented person, whoever he is, will not just strike at you but might be crazy enough to go after those close to you. Those you love.”

  “I’d like to see him try,” Dalton snarled. His eyes had darkened and seemed to flitter with deadly outrage, though moments before he had been quick to disavow having a wife.

  “That’s something the two of you need to think about,” Sheppard said, addressing Jace and Caden, deciding for the time being to ignore the simmering fury radiating from his youngest son.

  “Do you think we haven’t, Dad?” Jace asked, rubbing his hands down the front of his face. “Caden and I talked it over with Shana and Shiloh, and they feel the same way we do. We want you out of here, and to do that, we have to expose the real murderer.”

  When Sheppard didn’t say anything for a long moment, Caden asked, “If it were me in here instead of you, Dad, and someone made you the same threat, would you let me stay in here out of fear?”

  “Damn it, it’s not fear, Caden!” Sheppard said, raising his voice in frustration.

  “We know, Dad,” Caden responded gently. “And you’re right. It’s not fear. It’s love. You might as well have given up your life fifteen years ago, at least life as you knew it. And if one of us...all of us...have to give up our lives for you, it will be worth it.”

  “Don’t you see that it won’t be worth it? If I were to lose any of you, I would lose everything.”

  “Think of what we’ve already lost. What we can still lose, Dad,” Jace said hauntingly. “My son or daughter deserves to spend the time with you that the three of us lost. I want that for my child. For your grandchild.”

  Agony shone on Sheppard’s face, was etched deep in his features. “Do you know what you’re asking me?”

  “Yes,” Caden said with conviction. “To let us be the men we were raised to be.”

  Sheppard shook his head. “But not for this. You’re a musician, Caden. Jace, you’re an attorney.” He glanced over at his youngest son and couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips. “And Dalton, you’re still trying to find your way.”

  Under a certain woman’s skirt, Dalton thought, but his expression showed he was digesting his father’s perspective. “You’ve forgotten to take something very important into account, Dad,” Dalton said, leaning back in his chair.

  “What?”

  “Regardless of how you try to size us up, we’re still your sons. Grangers. And I’ve never known a Granger to back down from a fight...or a challenge.”

  Sheppard could see this conversation was not going the way he’d hoped. His sons were stubborn. And they didn’t know everything. He stood up and began pacing, knowing that everyone in the room, including Ambrose, was watching him.

  He finally stopped pacing and faced them. “There’s something else. Something you should all know.”

  Jace stood, as well, resting his hip on the edge of the table. Alert and attentive. “What?”

  “It’s something your grandfather and I suspected.”

  “Which was?” Caden asked just as alert and attentive.

  “Marshall Imerson.”

  Dalton raised a brow. “Wasn’t he the private investigator Granddad hired to look into your case?”

  “Yes.”

  “I recall hearing he was killed while driving under the influence,” Jace said.

  Sheppard nodded. “That’s what the police report said, but Dad and I never believed it, because we knew Marshall didn’t drink. There were even rumors of financial problems within his company, and that he was into something illegal. I think those lies were spread deliberately so no one would suspect anything about his death.”

  “Anything like what?” Dalton asked, tension within him mounting.

  “That he was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” Jace asked, shocked.

  “Yes. He had contacted Dad about some new evidence he’d uncovered and was very excited about it. A few days later, before he could meet with Dad and tell him what he’d found, he was dead.”

  Dalton was fully aware of how silent everyone had become; even the prison guard appeared to have gone numb. “So you think...”

  “Yes,” S
heppard said, anticipating Dalton’s question. “I believe he was too close to uncovering something, and someone didn’t want that to happen. Whoever silenced Marshall is still out there, and that same person doesn’t want anyone reopening my case. He’ll do just about anything to make sure no one does.”

  Sheppard paused a minute. “So not only will the three of you be in danger, whoever you hire to reinvestigate my case could find himself in danger, too. Take my advice and let it go. I’ll be up for parole in a couple of years and—”

  “No, Dad,” Jace interrupted in an adamant tone. “We’re moving forward. Risk or no risk.”

  * * *

  A sliver of daylight from the hallway came into the room, and Dalton saw that his dad was still sitting at the table. It was easy to see his head was lowered in frustration.

  “Dad?”

  Shep lifted his face to stare at his son. “Dalton? I thought all of you had left.”

  “Not yet,” Dalton said, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. “Jace and Caden are outside in the hallway talking to Ambrose. I convinced him I needed to speak with you privately. He agreed to break another rule for me.”

  “Ambrose needs to stop doing that...breaking rules. He has a family to take care of, and he needs his job.”

  A smile touched Dalton’s lips. “I know. He’s out there in the hallway now, telling Jace and Caden about his sons.” He moved to sit down at the table opposite his father. This time, Dalton took the time to study him, especially his features. He looked tired, worn, somewhat defeated. Dalton could just imagine what his father was dealing with right now. In the past, when they were younger, his dad told them what to do and they did it. Now things were different.

  “Did you come back because you finally understood what I was saying? The risk I don’t want the three of you to take?”

  Dalton shook his head. “I got what you said the first time, Dad. We all did. But even considering the risk, I agree with Jace and Caden. This is something we have to do.”