A Lover's Vow (19 page)

Twenty-Five

“J
ust when I hoped we had put the trade-secret scandal to rest and we could turn our attention to getting Dad out of prison, this happens,” Jace said in disgust, pacing Dalton's living-room floor.

“We'll get Dad out of prison—nothing about that has changed,” Dalton said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Especially since...”

When he stopped talking in midsentence and began studying the contents in his coffee cup, Caden asked, “Especially what, Dalton?”

“Nothing.”

Jace's and Caden's gazes met again, and Dalton knew he'd almost made a slip. He'd promised Jules he wouldn't let anyone know of her involvement in investigating their dad's case just yet. “So what do we do about what Percy told me?”

“Percy Johnson,” Caden said thoughtfully. “He was a couple of years behind me in school, but I remember him. Great quarterback. And you hired him to work for us?”

“Yes, and I'm glad I did.”

“I'm glad you did, too,” Shana said. She had begun pacing when Jace stopped.

Dalton glanced over at his sister-in-law. Was it his imagination, or had her stomach nearly doubled in size since the night of her dinner party?

“I remember him, as well,” Jace said. “He was all-star even in middle school. He could throw a football farther than any quarterback I knew. I'm surprised he didn't make pro. I heard he got a full ride to some university in South Carolina.”

“He did but turned it down.”

Jace raised a brow. “Why?”

“He got his girlfriend pregnant.” Dalton chuckled softly. “I'm sure you know how that works.”

Shana spoke up rather quickly and said, “We need to let Marcel know what's going on.” Dalton was convinced she'd spoken so quickly to diffuse her husband's wrath. In other words, to give Jace time to reconsider kicking his ass.

“I agree we need to let Marcel know,” Caden chimed in.

“And Bruce, as well. There might be a connection with that computer and the one Brandy used,” Shana tacked on.

“That's what I was thinking,” Jace said, pacing again. “Certainly sounds like it.”

Dalton thought it amusing that when Jace began pacing, Shana stopped, and when Shana stopped, Jace would begin. How could two people be so in tune with each other? That was weird. But hadn't he and Jules been in tune with each other those days and nights in Miami and last night, as well? Even now, the sounds of their moans and groans mingled together in his mind to make perfect harmony. And the way their bodies were so in sync when they made love. The rhythm was majestically perfect.

He hadn't left her bed until almost six this morning and had rushed through traffic to get here and shower before his brothers arrived. The last thing he needed was for them to get in his business, especially when it concerned Jules.

He jumped when a finger was snapped in front of his face. “What did you do that for?” Jace, Shana and Caden were staring at him like he was some oddity.

“Hate to interrupt your daydreaming, but Shana was asking you a question,” Jace said. “She called out to you several times.”

Dalton's brows pinched together. Had she? So what if he had been daydreaming? He was allowed to do so every once in a while. “Sorry, Shana, what did you want to know?”

“Is it possible for Bruce and Marcel to talk with Percy Johnson today? They will want to know exactly which computer he was working on. Knowing Marcel, he'll want to investigate with as few people knowing as possible, like the last time. He'll only inform those at Granger he feels he can trust.”

“Good idea, and I suggest they talk to Percy away from the office, especially since we don't know who else might be involved,” Dalton said. He then looked over at Jace. “How well do you know John Castor?”

Jace shrugged. “I don't know him any better than you do. He's been working for the company close to twelve years. He's married. Two kids in high school.”

“So he was hired after Dad left,” Caden said, as if thinking out loud to himself.

“Yes. And he did come to Shana's dinner party,” Dalton said. “I saw him there.”

Shana nodded. “I'll find out everything I can about him,” she said. “As well as everyone who works in his department. That information will be available to you within forty-eight hours, if not sooner.”

Jace nodded and glanced around at everyone in the room. “What's going on at Granger is pretty serious, but we still need to meet with Carson on Friday to discuss how to proceed in getting Dad's verdict overturned. And the only way we can do that is to hire someone to find the real killer.”

Dalton took a sip of his coffee and said nothing. Little did they know that Jules was already working on it. He couldn't wait to see their reactions once they found out what she'd been doing in her spare time.

* * *

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Mrs. Imerson,” Jules said as the woman led her toward the rear of the house where the enclosed patio was located.

“No problem, Ms. Sweet, although I'm not sure what I'll be able to tell you. Marshall never brought work home, and he never discussed any of his cases with me.”

The woman gestured Jules to a chair that overlooked a huge lake. In the distance, the tops of mountains could be seen above the branches of tall oak trees. The patio was completely glassed in, and heat was provided by an old-fashioned brick fireplace.

“I hope you don't mind sitting out here, but I love looking out over the water. It's so peaceful,” Leigh Imerson said, taking the chair across from Jules.

“Yes, it is,” Jules agreed. The drive from Charlottesville had been a peaceful one, as well. She'd taken the scenic route away from the hustle and bustle of traffic. The only traffic she had to be concerned with were the occasional riders taking their horses out for exercise.

She arrived in Steeplechase right before lunchtime, and since she hadn't eaten breakfast, she'd made a pit stop at one of the local diners. Steeplechase was one of those beautiful, quaint cities where you would want to retire, because there was no way for you not to be drawn to the cobblestone streets, bike paths and walking trails. And she'd seen the numerous horse farms that overlooked the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Sitting at the diner while enjoying lunch gave her a chance to unwind...and relive last night's memories. A part of her was convinced that last night had been a mistake, and she should not have slept with Dalton again. But then, honestly, who slept? That was why when she returned to Charlottesville later today, she intended to go home and crash. What if Dalton showed up later, figuring after Miami and last night that she was open to having some sort of an affair with him? Of course, she didn't want to have an affair with anyone and needed to let him know that. The last thing she wanted was for him to think things about their relationship just because they'd messed around a few times. Okay, it was more than a few times, but still, that was no reason for either of them to start getting any crazy ideas.

“Would you like some tea, Ms. Sweet? I just made a pitcher of my mango tea.”

Jules had never drunk mango tea before and decided to try it. “Yes, thanks. I would appreciate a glass.”

“Then please excuse me for a minute.”

Jules watched as the woman stood to head to the area of the house she assumed was the kitchen. Leigh Imerson was an attractive woman who appeared to be in her midfifties. But even with her sparkling smile, Jules saw sadness in her eyes. Marshall Imerson had died almost four years ago, and Jules assumed the sadness was still for him.

She recalled that she and Shana would often return home from one of their high school functions to find their father sitting in the living room alone. And although he would smile brightly when he saw them, there had always been a degree of sadness in his eyes.

From what Manning had found in his research, it seemed that the Imersons had married right out of college. Marshall had gone to work for the Charlottesville Police Department for a short while before becoming detective...similar to the paths both she and her father had taken, Jules thought.

Imerson had been a good detective and transitioned into the role of private investigator with ease, building a successful company. Everyone thought he was a fun-loving family man, and those who'd been interviewed after the accident had never seen him take a drink. But their statements hadn't been enough for the police to investigate further.

Jules glanced around, deciding she liked this house. It was spacious and sat on what had to be at least five acres of land. The furnishings were nice, and the artwork was a mixture of contemporary and abstract. For someone who was supposed to have been facing financial ruin, which was purported to be the cause of Imerson's drinking problems, it seemed that Leigh Imerson had done pretty well for herself after her husband's death. Manning was spending the day investigating just how deeply in debt Imerson had been, or whether that rumor had been anything more than a smokescreen.

“I baked some chocolate chip cookies this morning and thought you might like a few to go along with your tea,” Leigh said, entering the room carrying a tray with cookies and glasses of tea.

Jules stood to help her. “Why, thank you, Mrs. Imerson. Cookies and tea sound nice.”

“You're welcome and please, call me Leigh.”

“And you can call me Jules,” Jules said as she selected several cookies off the tray.

Deciding she needed to broach the reason for her visit, Jules said, “I read the police report on Marshall's auto accident, Leigh. It claims he had been drinking the night he died. The report indicated that a liquor bottle was on the seat beside him, and that he'd smelled of liquor.”

The smile faded from Leigh's face. “I know what that police report says, but it's not true. Marshall did not drink.”

“But how do you explain the liquor bottle in the car and him smelling of liquor?”

Leigh shook her head with a look of confusion clouding her eyes. “I can't explain it. All I can say is that someone deliberately tried to ruin Marshall's reputation, and I don't know why.”

Jules took another sip of her tea before asking, “Did you tell anyone what you thought? That you didn't believe the police report?”

“Yes, but the chief of police at the time claimed he had proof.”

“What about a BAC test? Why didn't you request one to verify Marshall's alcohol concentration level?”

“I did and was assured one would be done. However, after I had Marshall cremated, I found out someone had dropped the ball and the test hadn't been done.”

Jules wondered if someone had dropped the ball or had deliberately made certain that the test was never done. Was that the reason the police report had been sealed? Because of a monumental screwup? “At the time of his death, Marshall was working on an investigation for Richard Granger. Did you know that the report went missing after your husband's death?” she asked.

Leigh shook her head. “No. Like I told you earlier, Marshall never discussed work with me, and he never brought any work home as far as I know. So I have no idea where that report is or what happened to it. I even told that same thing to the man who came asking about it a few months after Marshall's death.”

Jules's brow bunched. “Do you remember the name of the man?”

Leigh nodded. “Yes. His name is Ivan Greene, and he's currently running for mayor of Charlottesville.”

Jules tried to keep surprise out of her face as she bit into her cookie.

Twenty-Six

S
itting at his dining room table, Dalton listened as Marcel interviewed Percy. Hearing the man's account a second time, as well as focusing in on the questions Marcel was asking, made Dalton realize just how serious the situation was and just how fortunate they were that Percy had been so attentive to certain things. Things that might otherwise have gone unnoticed.

His brothers and Shana had returned when Percy and Marcel had arrived. Bruce Townsend was there, as well. Marcel was the one asking questions, but Bruce was furiously jotting down notes. Jace was pacing, Shana was typing something on her tablet and Caden, who had obviously missed lunch, was hungrily snacking on a bag of chips he'd grabbed off the kitchen counter.

A short while later, Dalton watched Marcel draw in a deep breath, evidently satisfied with his line of questioning. Then Bruce began asking questions of Percy, and it seemed the two men began speaking a different language with all that computer mumbo-jumbo.

Bruce turned to Jace. “I need to get inside the accounting department, preferably after hours and without anyone knowing. Even security.”

The Granger Aeronautics security team worked twenty-four hours a day, and everyone in the room knew it. What Bruce was asking was close to impossible. Jace glanced over at Dalton. “Can you make that happen?”

Dalton nodded. “Yes. I'll need to organize a few things but I'll let you know when and how tomorrow.”

“All right,” Jace replied. And then he asked Bruce, “Did you ever find out whether information had been wiped off Brandy's hard drive?”

“Not yet. But if Percy actually saw that program, that will answer the question for us.”

“How can someone manage to wipe a computer clean from a remote location?” Caden asked, obviously baffled by what he'd heard.

“With so much modern technology out there, it's not impossible to do,” Bruce replied.

“I concur with Bruce,” Marcel said, rubbing a frustrated hand down his face. “The agency spends a lot of time investigating computer fraud and abuse. Just when we think we have a handle on it, some new software is developed. But this is more about abuse,” he added. “This might be more than about trade secrets. Granger handles government contracts, so this security compromise is especially worrisome.”

Dalton could tell it bothered the others in the room, as well. He hoped the FBI would get to the bottom of it and put all those involved behind bars. And speaking of bars...

“When do Vidal Duncan, Titus Freeman, Cal Arrington and Melissa Swanson go on trial?” Dalton asked.

Caden glanced over at him. “Funny you should ask. I got a call from Duncan's attorney before I left the office. The man specifically asked for me. I guess he knew better than to call Jace.”

“What did his attorney want?” Jace asked in a voice that had turned to steel.

“He didn't say. I figure he's going to try to work on some sort of plea deal for Vidal.”

“Not with my help,” Jace said angrily.

Marcel understood Jace's attitude. “As far as Arrington is concerned, he's finally decided to start talking to save his skin since Melissa Swanson is telling everything she knows. And Titus Freeman claims he's suffering from amnesia and can't recall a thing. I think his attorney is trying to come up with an insanity plea.”

Caden shook his head. “You also got another call after you left the office, Jace. I hate it when you forward your calls to me.”

“Who was it?”

“Your ex-wife.”

“Evil Eve,” Dalton said. “She's probably pissed that she wasn't invited to the wedding.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “She's lucky she's not sharing a jail cell with Vidal. She still might if he decides to name her as a collaborator in my kidnapping. She's not out of the woods yet.”

“And I think she knows it,” Caden said. “I believe she wants to talk to you and convince you that she's an innocent woman.”

Dalton chuckled, thinking the former Eve Granger probably didn't know the meaning of innocent. “Evil Eve coming to town is interesting,” he said aloud. “It's showtime.”

* * *

After returning home from Steeplechase, Jules took a three-hour nap. When she woke up, it was to find it had already grown dark outside. Hungry, she decided to order takeout and figured Chinese sounded good.

She had called Manning earlier and asked him to pull a report on Ivan Greene as well as his parents. What if Imerson had discovered the senior Greene's alibi wouldn't wash and they hadn't been on a cruise at the time of Sylvia Granger's death as they'd claimed? And from all accounts, Ivan would have been twenty-six or twenty-seven at the time. What if he'd learned of his father's affair with Sylvia and had gone to the boathouse to confront his father's lover? What if things had turned ugly? Violent? Deadly?

With the election in a few weeks, Ivan Greene's face was everywhere—on television and billboards—encouraging voters to vote for him for mayor. A native son. Harvard graduate. A person who truly cared for the betterment of the city. Typical politician with promises galore. According to the polls, he was leading his opponent, so he might just end up being Charlottesville's next mayor.

Jules was about to look up the number for the nearest Chinese takeout restaurant when her phone rang. It was Dalton. Should she answer it?
Sure, why not answer it? If you don't feel like being bothered, just let him know.
At that moment, she definitely didn't feel like being bothered. He had crept into her thoughts too many times today. Memories of each and every time they'd made love had overwhelmed her at some of the oddest moments. Made her hot, made her smile, made her want to drown in his flavor. That was too much Dalton Granger to suit her. Definitely more than she'd experienced with any other man she'd been involved with.

She answered the phone. “Yes, Dalton?”

“Busy day?”

Her shoulders eased a bit. Why did hearing the sound of his voice do that to her? And why did his voice have to sound so soothing...and sexy? “Yes, it was busy. What about yours?”

“Crappy is more like it. My house was filled with a lot of people most of the day. Jace, Caden, Shana, Bruce, Marcel and Percy—all trying to make heads or tails of what's going on with the company and all that technology exploitation.”

“I'm sure Marcel or Bruce will figure it out.”

“Hell, I hope so. For once, I'd like to be a part of a company that's not in the red and not faced with greedy employees trying to steal from it. And on top of everything else, Caden mentioned that Evil Eve is coming to town.”

Jules knew that Jace's first wife was named Eve but that Dalton preferred calling her Evil Eve.

“Any particular reason why?”

“I think she's afraid Vidal is going to name her as an accessory, and she wants to convince Jace she wasn't involved.”

Jules snorted. “Depends on what you mean by involved. I'd think having an affair with Vidal constitutes involvement.”

“Eve doesn't think the way most people do.”

“Well, Jace isn't the one she should be convincing of her innocence. I'd think she should be worried about the prosecutors.”

He paused a minute. “What are you doing for dinner?”

“Nothing.” And just in case he had any ideas about joining her, she quickly put them to rest. “I ordered takeout. Chinese.”

“Oh. And how did things go with your interview of Leigh Imerson?”

She hesitated, not yet ready to tell him what she'd found out. First she wanted to read the report on Ivan Greene that Manning was pulling together. But still, it wouldn't hurt hearing what he knew about the man. “It went well. She said her husband didn't bring work home or talk about any of his cases with her.”

“So she was a dead end.”

I wouldn't say that.
“For now, I'm moving on to the next person on my list, Ivan Greene. What do you know about him?”

“Nothing, really. He's running for mayor, and if you want to believe the polls, he has a strong chance of winning. I'm sure you know his father supposedly had an affair with my mother.”

“Supposedly? Don't you believe it?”

“Doesn't matter. Dad evidently received proof in the way of pictures. All I know is the man I saw with my mother that one time at the boathouse wasn't Michael Greene.”

“And you don't know who the man was?”

“We were never officially introduced, Jules,” Dalton said drily.

He sounded agitated, somewhat annoyed. She wondered whether talking about his mother and bringing up her affairs bothered him. “I'm sure that you weren't introduced, Dalton. But I just wondered if perhaps you remembered anything about the guy.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Think you'd recognize him if you were to see him again?”

“What are you planning to do? Let me pick him out of a police lineup?”

“That might actually be possible.”

“I was just teasing.”

“I knew you were. No need to be testy.”

“I'm not.”

“Yes, you are. Look, my takeout has arrived,” she lied. “I'll talk to you later.” And without waiting for him to respond, she hung up the phone.

* * *

“Did she just hang up on me?” Dalton muttered, clicking off his phone and placing it back on the table. Jules sounded moody, and moody women had always been a total turnoff for him. But then, he had no right to be judgmental, since he wasn't in the best of moods himself.

Like he'd told her, his day had been crappy. Having people in and out of his house wasn't something he was used to, and he wasn't overjoyed about the reason they'd had to meet behind closed doors in the first place. And then, while they were assembled, Jace figured it would be a good time for Marcel and Bruce to meet Striker, Quasar and Stonewall. He felt it was important for everyone to know who was working on the same team. It had been a smart idea, but the day had been tiring and the meetings had seemed to last forever.

He had called to invite Jules to dinner, which he now saw was a mistake. So maybe her moody attitude was a blessing in disguise. Like him, she probably didn't want anyone in her personal space. They had spent last night together, but there was no need to overdo things by seeing her again today or even again this week. Or next week, for that matter. During his lifetime he'd dated a lot of women, but he'd never been a man who wanted an exclusive relationship with one.

And why had Jules asked about his mother's lovers? He hadn't known about Michael Greene until Jace and Caden mentioned the man to him. And he'd been truthful when he'd said that he wasn't sure he would recognize the man he'd seen his mother with that day in the boathouse if he were to ever see him again.

Moving toward his kitchen, he grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and figured that he might as well order takeout himself, and Chinese wasn't a bad idea. Tonight he would give Stonewall a break and stay in for a change. Besides, he needed to come up with a plan to get Bruce into the accounting department of Granger without security knowing anything about it. It would be hard, but not impossible.

What Percy had uncovered with that computer was also a breach of security, and since he was the top dog in charge, all he had to say about that was
not on his watch
.

He stood in his kitchen and finished off the beer before tossing the can in the recycling bin. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he leaned back against the kitchen counter. When had his place begun feeling lonely? He was probably thinking that way because it had been crowded with several people earlier and was totally empty now. And why did his mind wander and focus on a particular woman?

Jules was a distraction he didn't need now. He had things to take care of. And he understood how she'd gotten wrapped up in what she was doing, her own little investigation. All he'd ever needed or wanted from her was a physical connection. He'd had it—quite a few times—so he was good to go. He didn't need entanglements, long-term or otherwise. And he didn't need Jules.

Dalton's chest contracted in a long, deep sigh. His life was turning to shit, and he didn't know why. The company he and his brothers had promised their dying grandfather to take on had been infiltrated by crazies, and for the first time in his life, he was allowing a woman to get under his skin. And if he wasn't careful, the next thing he'd be doing is ending up like his brothers.

Damn it, that wouldn't be happening, and if the only way to ensure that it didn't was to avoid her, then he would. He refused to let any woman push him to lose control. The repercussions would be disastrous. And this way, his brothers didn't have to know that he and Jules had ever hooked up. Right now they were just speculating that that is what had happened, and they could continue to do so. The more they stayed out of his business, the better.