A Man's Promise

by Brenda Jackson

  Jules saw Caden’s jaw twitch, and he finally asked in disbelief, “Why? Why would he do such a thing?”

  Instead of answering immediately, Jules pulled out a document in the folder she was holding. She placed it on the coffee table in front of Caden. “Were you aware that Grover has a million-dollar insurance policy on you?”

  Caden rubbed his hands down his face. “No. Yes. Hell, I don’t remember. I think I recall signing papers for him to do so. It was close to eight years ago when that policy was taken out. Such a thing isn’t unheard-of in the music industry. In fact, it’s usually standard practice. He managed the group and probably has policies on all key members.”

  Jules simply nodded and placed another document in front of him. “Were you aware that Grover has a gambling problem and that he’s strapped for money? He has outstanding gambling debts, and—”

  “Enough!” Caden said, standing and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He could have asked me for the money. Why would he go to these lengths? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “A gambling addiction never does make any sense. It seems he is addicted pretty badly and has been for years. He’s also been embezzling some of the band’s profits to pay for his habit.”

  It was obvious from the look on Caden’s face that he hadn’t suspected a thing about the embezzlement of the band’s profits. Jace came to stand beside his brother. “So, with all this information, can an arrest be made, Jules?”

  She shook her head. “No. Since a police report of the incident was never filed, it would be Caden’s account of what happened that night against Reddick’s. We can probably get him on the embezzlement charges, though. It’s something a good accountant can trace. That’s the best that can be done.”

  “The best that can be done, my ass. That’s bullshit,” Dalton said, leaving his place by the window to come stand beside the sofa. “A man tried to kill my brother, and you want us to believe nothing can be done?”

  Jules lifted her chin. “That’s right. Nothing can be done...unless...”

  Caden raised a brow. “Unless what?”

  “Unless Grover confesses.”

  “Don’t hold your breath for that to happen,” Dalton sneered.

  “Wait!” Caden said, holding up his hand to stop Dalton from getting started. “I have an idea—something that might get the confession.”

  Jules’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  Two days later

  “Mr. Reddick, Caden Granger is here to see you.”

  Grover glanced up from the papers on his desk and frowned. “Caden? Okay, send him in,” he said, wondering why Caden was in L.A. Was he here to tell him he was ready to go back on the touring circuit the first of the year? Maybe ready to start working on a final tour schedule? He could have called or emailed to do either of those things.

  Caden walked in and glanced around Grover’s office. There had been many memories made in this room. Good memories. He glanced over at Grover standing behind the desk. Today, the man looked older than his forty-four years.

  “Caden, my man, this is unexpected. What are you doing in L.A.? Did you bring Shiloh with you?” Grover asked, coming from behind his desk and offering Caden his hand.

  “I had some business to take care of here,” Caden said, taking his hand and wishing he didn’t have to. “And no, I didn’t bring Shiloh with me.”

  “I’m so happy for both of you. I was so glad to have been there to witness the ceremony. The whole thing was classy and beautiful.”

  “I thought so, too.” Caden paused, then said, “I want to talk to you about something serious that came up while the private investigator I hired was checking out Rita’s alibi.”

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  “That you were in Charlottesville that same weekend.” He saw surprise flare in Grover’s eyes and surmised Grover never expected to be caught out. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have gotten together. Shared a drink.”

  Grover waved off Caden’s words as they both sat down. “I wasn’t in the city that long. Just flew in to check out this new group of singers. Three ladies who can really sing and—”

  “You were there for a few days?”

  “Yes, but I was busy.”

  “Why didn’t you mention it to me when we talked that night on the phone?”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  Caden nodded. “Any reason you tried to run me down that night in front of Shiloh’s place? Did you think that was important?”

  Grover sat straight up. “What are you talking about, Caden? Why would I run you over?”

  “To collect on that insurance policy you took out on me in order to settle your gambling debts. Why, Grover? Why did you do it, man? I thought we were friends.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Caden nodded slowly. “I came here today hoping you would level with me, but I see you won’t, so I intend to take what I have to the police. Maybe you’ll be more cooperative with them.” Caden stood.

  “The police? Wait, Caden! Hold up and let’s talk about this.” When Caden did not reply he realized the jig was up. “Okay, I fucked up. But you weren’t saying when, or if, you would be back with the band, and I had pressing bills to pay. You seemed to enjoy playing Mr. Corporate America, but I needed money.”

  “I could have loaned you the money.”

  “You would have asked too many questions.”

  “So killing me instead was the best option?”

  “I didn’t want to kill you. Damn it, Caden, I told you I needed the money, and those bastards were breathing down my neck, making threats. I screwed up and that guy jumped out of nowhere. I figured—”

  “What? Figured I should live?”

  “Yeah, and I immediately regretted what I did. I sort of went crazy with the pressure and the threats.” Changing tack, he added, “You’re happily married, and I helped you pull that off. Let’s leave the police out of this. I’ll resign and find other work. You know me. I’m not a bad person.”

  Caden wondered whether Grover was even listening to himself. How could someone admit to having tried to kill him, and then say he wasn’t a bad person and should get off scot-free? “I trusted you with my career, my business, my life, Grover.”

  “Fuck you and your life. Poor little rich kid who wants to play musician whenever he feels like it. I’ve done everything to make you a success. I needed the damned money, and you owed it to me,” he shouted. “You owed me,” he repeated. “My life was being threatened. They wanted their money and—”

  “So, your solution was to kill me, cash in the insurance policy and get on with your life.”

  “Yes!” Grover screamed. “I would have killed you to get it! I tried. I fucking tried. It would have solved all my problems. Damn you!”

  Caden stared at the man he’d had so much faith in, so much confidence in—the man who had been his manager for years. Rather than saying anything else, he turned and headed for the door.

  “Wait, Caden! If you go to the police, I’ll deny everything. People know me in L.A. I’m a model citizen. They won’t arrest me. All you have is circumstantial evidence.”

  When Caden got to the door, he reached into the top pocket of his jacket. “No, I have more than circumstantial evidence.” He held up a mini-recorder. “I have your confession.”

  “It won’t hold up.”

  “If this won’t hold up,” he said, showing him the recorder, “then this will.” He opened the door, and three policemen walked in. “They heard your confession, as well.”

  One of the officers spoke up. “Mr. Reddick, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Caden Granger. You have the right to remain silent....”

  Caden kept walking, refusing to look back. He went straight to the elevator and rode down as a cold chill ran through his body.

  As he stepped off the elevator Shiloh was waiting for him. He pulled her into his arms, needi
ng to hold her. And then he kissed her, needing her taste to consume him and make him feel whole again.

  He broke off the kiss and took her hand in his. “Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here and go home.”

  Forty-Three

  Sedrick Timmons looked around the warehouse, waiting to meet the person who had summoned him. He turned up the collar of his coat. The air had turned cold. Shit, he didn’t want to be here and wanted no part of this.

  “Glad you could make it.”

  Sedrick turned around. He hadn’t heard anyone approach. “What do you want? Why did you ask me to come here?”

  “It’s about your sister.”

  Sedrick frowned. “What about her?”

  “I heard she married Caden Granger.”

  Sedrick frowned. “And what if she did?”

  “Nothing, as long as she convinces her husband not to reopen his father’s case. And you are going to make sure that happens.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  There was a harsh chuckle. “Oh, but you will. I know about your part in Richard Granger’s death. He would have survived that heart attack if you hadn’t administered the drug in the hospital that tightened his muscles so much that there was no way he could survive.”

  Sedrick rubbed his hand down his face. “What do you want?”

  “I told you. As far as everyone knows, Sheppard Granger is guilty. For the benefit of all of us, it had better stay that way.”

  * * * * *

  Look for Dalton’s story next in THE GRANGERS series, available soon from Harlequin MIRA.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A BROTHER'S HONOR by Brenda Jackson.

  “Welcome to another memorable family tree created by the indomitable Brenda Jackson, a romantic at heart.”

  —USA TODAY on A Brother’s Honor

  If you loved A Man’s Promise by New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson, don’t miss A Brother’s Honor, the first title in her popular and compelling Grangers series.

  Available now in ebook format!

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  Prologue

  “Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked in the still, quiet courtroom, packed to capacity. The trial of the State of Virginia versus Sheppard Granger had lasted for five weeks, and the eight men and four women had deliberated for sixteen hours.

  “Yes, we have, Your Honor.”

  “Will you hand the verdict form to the court, please?”

  Within seconds, the bailiff presented the form to the judge, who took a moment to read the document before handing it in turn to the clerk who faced those in the courtroom.

  Sheppard Granger showed no emotion as the clerk began reading what would be his fate. At one point, he was tempted to glance over his shoulder to look at his three young sons—Jace, sixteen; Caden, fourteen; and Dalton, who would be turning twelve in a few days. He hoped and prayed that, no matter what the jury decided, they would believe he was an innocent man. There was no way he would have killed the mother of his beloved sons.

  Instead, he listened as the clerk spoke the words... “Of the charge of first degree murder in the death of Sylvia Granger, we, the jury, find Sheppard Granger guilty.”

  Sheppard suddenly felt his knees weaken, but he refused to go down, and he refused to glance back at his sons. His father, Richard Granger, would know what to do now. Richard would now become responsible for his grandsons, and he would be there for them since Sheppard would not.

  The judge was talking, addressing the court. But whatever he was saying Sheppard couldn’t hear for the pounding in his head. As far as Sheppard was concerned, nothing else mattered. Only one thought repeated itself in his head with blinding clarity—his life as he’d once known it was over.

  Chapter One

  Fifteen years later

  Hoping it wasn’t obvious that he was watching the time, Jace Granger took a sip of his wine and looked straight ahead at the huge clock hanging on the wall, directly above the entrance of the upscale Los Angeles restaurant. He’d been there for exactly one hour and twelve minutes, and was biting at the bit to call it a night.

  He appreciated his friend Alan Carter’s concerns about his solitary life, but blind dates had never been Jace’s thing, and he had known after the first ten minutes that he’d made a mistake by letting Alan talk him into one tonight. No doubt Angela Farlow was a looker—he would give her that, but so far it had been one hell of a night. For starters, she talked too damn much. She had a lot to say...a lot about practically nothing.

  Jace took another sip of his wine and listened...or at least pretended to do so. The last couple of times he had tried interjecting his own thoughts and views, she had unabashedly cut them down, letting him know what she thought of any opinions other than her own.

  Noticing a lull in the conversation, Jace shifted his gaze from the clock back to her and saw the sultry pout that touched her lips.

  “Why do I get the feeling that I’m boring you?” she asked in a low tone.

  Because you are, he was tempted to say. But being the gentleman that he was, instead he said, “On the contrary, I happen to find you anything but boring,” plastering a smile on his face. “In fact, I find you simply fascinating.” Now, that wasn’t a lie. He doubted there were many women like her. Hell, he hoped not.

  “Well,” she said, smiling all over the place at the compliment. “I’ve talked enough about me. Now I want to hear about you. Alan tells me the two of you went to law school together and that, as a government attorney, you’re in charge of making sure the great state of California stays on a straight and narrow path.”

  She rested her chin on her hands. “What made you want to work for the government instead of going into private practice? Alan said you graduated from UCLA at the top of your class.”

  Jace forced his body not to tense, something that usually happened whenever he was questioned about his decision to work in the public sector instead of the private, where he could have become a millionaire if he’d set his mind to it. Little did she know he had been groomed for just that kind of life and had intentionally walked away a long time ago.

  His shoulders mimicked a careless shrug before giving her the same spiel he gave anyone who had the audacity to inquire. Briefly and thoroughly, with a not-so-smooth edge, he basically told her that he preferred working for the people instead of kissing asses for any amount of money. He really didn’t expect people to understand and didn’t really give a damn if they didn’t.

  He took a sip of his drink and smiled inwardly. The woman was finally at a loss for words, and he understood her dilemma, honestly he did. She thought the same way his ex-wife did. Eve’s belief had been that the more money you had, the happier you were. All he had to say to that theory was bullshit.

  It didn’t surprise him when his date suggested they end the evening. That was fine with him, since the last thing he wanted was to become involved with another woman who had the same mindset as his ex-wife.

  An hour later, he was entering his condo, grateful the evening with Angela had ended and that his path wouldn’t cross hers anytime soon. He figured she was probably on the phone with Alan at that very moment, giving him a piece of her mind about setting her up on a blind date with a man who evidently hadn’t any plans of making anything of himself.

  Jace pulled off his jacket and was about to take it to the closet and hang it up when his cell phone rang. He wondered if it was Alan calling him already. He checked caller ID and saw it wasn’t Alan but his grandfather. It had to be past midnight in Virginia, and
he wondered why the old man was calling so late.

  “Yes, Granddad?”

  “Jace?”

  He frowned. It was not his grandfather’s deep, authoritarian voice but that of a woman. A woman whose voice he recognized immediately as the family’s housekeeper’s. “Hannah?”

  “Yes, it’s me. You need to come home immediately.”

  His heart nearly stopped at the thought of returning there, a place he hadn’t thought of as his home for years. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your grandfather. He’s had a heart attack, and it doesn’t look good. It’s serious, Jace.”

  Jace drew in a deep breath. His strong, robust grandfather? Heart attack? But he knew Hannah. She had been housekeeper to the Grangers for years. She wasn’t one for theatrics or drama. If she said it was serious, then it was. He rubbed his hand down his face. “All right, I’m on my way.”

  “What about your father, Jace? Can you get word to him?”

  “Yes, I’ll contact Warden Smallwood right away.”

  “All right. I tried calling Caden, but I couldn’t leave a message. His voice mail box is full, and I have no idea how to reach Dalton. He changes phone numbers probably more than he changes his underwear,” she quipped.

  Jace couldn’t help but smile. Hannah was still Hannah. “I’ll get ahold of them, don’t worry.” He pushed to the back of his mind the memory of the heated argument between him and his brothers when they were together last year.

  “But I am worried, Jace.”

  He knew she was and he could hear it in her voice. The usual no-nonsense tone was diluted with distress. Something that was uncommon for his grandfather’s unflappable housekeeper. “Okay, just take it easy. We don’t need you in the hospital, as well. Granddad’s at St. Francis Memorial, right?”

  “Yes, on the Ava Granger wing.”

  “Okay,” he said, trying not to think about the fact that his grandfather was in the part of the hospital that had been dedicated to Jace’s grandmother over twenty years ago. Jace could remember that day well, especially the ceremony. They’d all been there. His grandfather, his brothers, his father...and his mother.