Authors: Brenda Jackson
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
T
he 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,” Sheppard 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 andâ”
“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.”
“Why? Because your grandfather made the three of you promise that you would?”
“No, because we love you, and it's time we bring you back home.” And then, in an attempt to make light of the situation, Dalton leaned in closer and added, “Besides, I don't know how much longer I can handle Jace being in charge. He's a pain in the rear end. So we need to get you out of here and back to running Granger Aeronautics.”
Even with anger and frustration consuming his body, Shep couldn't help but chuckle. In typical Dalton Granger style, his youngest son had soothed his ruffled feathers somewhat. But he was still not happy with the situation, mainly their refusal not to reopen his case.
“That might be true, but I'm sure complaining about Jace wasn't why you had Ambrose bend the rules to have a private talk with me.” He studied his son intently, watching how his amused features suddenly became serious, intense.
“No, the reason I hung back was to tell you something.”
Sheppard lifted a brow. “Tell me what?”
Dalton hesitated a moment and then said, “Something I probably should have told you years ago. About Mom.”
Sheppard frowned. “What about your mom?”
Dalton hesitated a moment as he recalled how long he'd been carrying this secret around. The guilt he'd always felt in doing so. “I was young, probably around ten or eleven years old.”
When he didn't say anything else, his father coaxed him further. “Go on.”
He met his father's stare. “I found out Mom was having an affair.”
He heard his father swear under his breath. “I think you need to start from the beginning, Dalton.”
Dalton nodded. “It was the year before she died. I was hiding because I had been acting up in class that day, and I figured my teacher would be calling you and Mom to let you know. You'd already threatened to stop me from riding Glory if I got into any more trouble in school.” Glory had been his horse, a beautiful palomino his grandparents had given him for his eighth birthday.
“I hid out in the boathouse, hoping no one would find me. I was hiding in the closet. That's when I saw Mom...with a man who wasn't you. She saw me when I sneaked out of the closet, but the man never did. Later that night, Mom came to my room and made me promise not to tell anyone.”
Sheppard drew in a deep breath as rage swept through his body. Not because his wife had brought her lover to Sutton Hills, but for what she'd done to their child. How dare she let him be a witness to her treacherous behavior and then hold him to secrecy?
“I should have told you long ago. I should never have promised Mom that Iâ”
“No, Dalton,” Shep interrupted in a soft tone and with a gentle smile. “You did the right thing. If she made you promise not to tell, then you shouldn't have. A promise is a promise.”
“Just like a vow is a vow?” Dalton countered angrily. “When the two of you married, you exchanged vows, right?”
“Yes.”
“Vows are to be kept, not broken. What gave Mom the right to break hers with another man?”
Now that, Shep thought, was a question he could not answer. But what he could do was release his son from the guilt he must still feel for keeping Sylvia's promise. “It doesn't matter now. You did the right thing in doing what she asked you to do.”
“But you'll never know how I felt all those years, Dad. I was young at the time, and at first I thought it was cool having a secret with Mom, one that nobody else knew about. Not you, Jace or Caden. Not even Grandpa. But when I got older and realized what she'd been doing and understood the depth of the promise she'd asked me to keep, I felt sick inside. I knew I had betrayed you.”
“You didn't betray me, Dalton.”
However, your mother did.
“I loved Mom, Dad. But what she did to you was wrong.”
And what she did to you was even worse
,
son
, Shep thought, reaching out and taking hold of Dalton's shoulder. They stared at each other in silence. He'd known about Sylvia's affair with Michael Greene, but he'd been willing to keep his marriage together, anyway, for his sons. “It's okay, Dalton. That all happened years ago.”
“I know. I'll never forget that day. Jace and Caden thought the man she was with was Michael Greene, but it wasn't.”
Shep's jaw dropped, startled. “It wasn't?”
“No. I knew Mr. Greene, and the man I saw Mom with that day wasn't him. It was a man I'd never seen before.”
If it wasn't Michael Greene, then who?
Shep wondered. He would never forget the day he received the pictures Greene's wife, Yolanda, had sent to his office. She'd hired a private investigator and had been more than happy to share what the man had uncovered. There had been several photographs of Michael Greene and Sylvia together in a number of compromising positions.
He had confronted Sylvia about it, and she hadn't denied a thing. In fact, she had laughed in his face and told him that he was stuck with her if he wanted to remain a father to his sons. That had been her leverage. That had always been her leverage.