Conned (21 page)

"Who gains the most by having Stanton in prison and out
of the way?"

None of us could come up with a single obvious suspect, but
I knew who it
could
be. I just didn't know how to tie Dawson and Ripley
together. I didn't want to think that he would go to the lengths he did to get
it done.

I arrived in Denver late this morning and my first stop was
here at Officer Greg Daniel's home to find out why anyone would want him dead,
if there was any reason other than he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I walked up the small porch littered with toys and knocked
on the crooked screen door. There was screaming on the other side, but it
sounded like two little kids shouting back and forth.

"Quiet, you two, or both of you are sitting in your
room for the rest of the day," a voice said sharply.

A moment later the door opened and a tall, blonde haired,
blue eyed woman stood in the doorway. "Can I help you?"

I cleared my throat and showed her my badge, "Yes, I'm
an officer in the same department your husband was working. I just wanted to
pay my respects and also ask a few questions."

Her eyes darted around the yard and up and down the street.
"You alone?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What questions?"

She looked nervous and the hair on the back of my neck stood
on end. No way I was leaving here without some answers. Anything to push me in
the right direction.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

She nodded and pushed the screen door open, "Sure. Let
me get my kids situated and we'll talk."

I followed her inside and watched as she herded her two
children into a bedroom and turned on a television with the instruction to stay
in there until she came to get them. The kids couldn't be any older than 6 or
7. They were twins and looked a lot like their mother.

She walked back into the living room and gestured for me to
sit.

"My name is Conall Brannock," I said and shook her
hand before sitting back on the couch.

"Lucy Daniels. Don't know much else that I can tell the
police. He was a cop, the danger came with the job."

"You don't sound like you are too distraught
about-"

"That's because I'm not," she laughed. "Greg
was a jerk and a crook. We had been separated for a few months before he was
killed and I'm just mad that I didn't get a chance to watch him sign the
divorce papers."

This was news to me. "That isn't something I was told.
We all thought you two were still together."

"Yeah, that's what I told them so I could get paid. As
you can tell, we aren't set up very well, I needed the money and I didn't think
telling anyone I was done with him would help me get it."

I was stunned, but then it wasn't any of my business. I
wasn't here officially and I wasn't going to waste my time on anything else
that would stop me from protecting Emily.

"I know you aren't here on official police business,
otherwise, you're partner would be with you. I have a feeling you're here for
another reason." She narrowed her eyes to gauge my reaction.

"And what would that be?"

"To find out if my husband was a dirty cop. Guess what?
He was. He ran whatever he could get his hands on and played bodyguard for
whoever gave him his checks, which by the way, I never saw."

This answered a lot of questions about why he was
associating with Stanton Ripley and how he ended up dead. Dirty cops don't
realize that karma's a bitch.

"Do you know who he was working for?"

"Yeah, I do. It's the reason I was divorcing him and
getting his sorry ass away from my children." She took a breath and looked
me square in the eyes. "Lucien Ripley."

***

Jack's Pub was completely empty except for one old timer
sitting at the bar and a tiny blonde bartender who reminded me of Emily. The
need to see her was crushing and going to her was the next place on my list.

"Can I help you, officer?" she asked when I
flashed my badge. There was really no point in doing so, but I didn't want
anyone to think I was trying to wiggle my way in undercover. I didn't have time
for that and they wouldn't let me passed the jukebox if I tried.

"I need to find Lucien Ripley."

Her eyes widened, brown eyes that looked nothing like the
bright green I loved so much. "I, um, I don't know what to tell you. I'm
not really given that information anyway."

"That's fine, I need you to find someone who
is
given that information. Lucien will want to hear what I have to say."

She nodded and scurried to the back without another word. I
glanced over at the old man who was staring at the flat screen above the bar.
He looked like he was here to stay for a while and the drunken sway he was
trying to control in his chair proved he would probably have to be carried out
anyway.

I was aware that whoever was calling the shots was going to
use the situation with Emily to their advantage. Lucien Ripley might already be
aware that she didn't see anything that night, but he needed to know the
details if I had any hope of getting her name off his list. She had put his brother
in prison after all.

"Who the fuck are you?" a hard voice rang out from
the door the bartender had disappeared through. In her place was a dark
skinned, middle aged badass. He was taking off his jacket, making no moves to
hide his shoulder holster, when he walked toward me.

"Conall Brannock. Detective in the Denver PD. I'm not
here for anything other than I need to speak with Lucien Ripley and I need to
do it yesterday."

The man laughed mockingly, "Oh really? And just what do
you need to speak to him about?"

"Getting his brother out of prison," I stated, not
taking my eyes off of his.

This obviously startled him, but he made a quick recovery
and scowled at me like I was up to no good. I didn't give a shit what this
fucker thought, he wasn't going to stop me. I wouldn't let Emily live the rest
of her life looking over her shoulder, even if I did plan to be right there
with her.

Without another word, he jerked his head toward the door he
had come through and pulled his phone out of his pocket. I couldn't understand
what he was saying, but whoever was on the other line was in charge.

"Yeah, okay, boss," he muttered before returning
the phone to his pocket. I stayed on alert as he turned back to me and pointed
to a stairwell in the corner of the backroom. "Up those, left, first door
you come to."

I didn't hesitate and moved passed him quickly. There wasn't
time to question whether or not I was doing something stupid. I would deal with
the fall out if it came to that.

I climbed the stairs, my steps echoing off the wall, but not
drowning out the sounds of voices at the top. A large man was slouched in a
chair in the hallway to my left and he pointed at the door across from him
before I could say a word. "Two knocks," he grumbled and coughed
violently before slouching once more.

I walked up to the door, knocked twice, and it immediately
flew open.

A man who looked a lot like the one downstairs walked out
and didn't give me much space. "Hand over your weapons or go no
further."

I handed over my holster and 9mm, then removed my ankle
holster. Before he could instruct me to do so, I put my arms out to my sides.
He raised an eyebrow, but went about his business patting me down before
gesturing for me to enter the room and shutting the door behind me.

The room was huge and filled with furniture of all kinds.
Old antique stuff that Mom would have drooled over if she had gotten the chance
to see it. At the farthest wall from me, there was a huge mahogany desk with
the latest model computer and stacks of paperwork. Behind the desk was the man
I wanted to see.

Lucien Ripley.

"Officer Brannock, a pleasant surprise," he
greeted and stood from his plush desk chair that
Dad
would probably
drool over. The man was taller than me by a few inches which was saying
something and he was built thicker than Gus was. I had read somewhere that he
had spent the first several years of his adult life fighting and not the legal
kind. Another reason why no one wanted to mess with him and why Rayce Dawson
and his boss had been such a huge deal. His eyes were almost black and his skin
was tanned and freaking flawless, shaved smooth. He had black hair that was
short and spiked and the smile on his face was anything but patient.

"I'll cut right to the chase," I said confidently.
Emily's face flashed in my mind and there was no way I was going to leave this
place without ensuring this man never got near her. Ever. "Emily Dawson
never saw your brother kill Officer Daniels. In fact, she wasn't even at the
hotel when it happened."

"I already know this," Lucien replied easily, his
expression unchanging. "Doesn't change the fact that she lied and put my
brother in prison."

I had expected that response and pressed on. "I
understand that, but she did it for her brother. He manipulated her. It's a
long story, but she did it out of loyalty. You of all people should understand
how much that means."

"And you are here to convince me to stop trying to kill
her. Tell me, Officer Brannock. What is she to you that you would risk your
life coming here?"

I knew that answer, knew it in my bones.
"Everything."

He smiled widely, flashing his perfect teeth at me and
wiggling his eyebrows. "Love?"

"Yes." My chest tightened, wishing I would have
told her just one more time. Wishing I could have heard her say it back. I'd
take care of that soon.

"I enjoy a good love story," he chuckled and
turned back to his desk. "Please sit. I'd like to hear everything."

"I don't have the time to tell you a story, I'm here
to-"

"You have the time. I won't be killing her while you're
here, I can assure you of that. Telling me will only help you."

He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and sat down
in his own. I sat quickly and started to tell him what I knew.

"She was going to confess everything. Her
brother-"

"Is a little piece of shit who will stop at nothing to
get to the top," he snapped. "That's not what I want to hear, though.
Tell me about Emily. From the beginning."

"I don't understand why you want to know…" 

Sighing, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the huge
desk in front of him. "We may have time for a story, Officer Brannock, but
I'm not the one out looking for her at the moment. Once you talk, we'll all be
getting some answers. The faster you do that, the faster you can get back to
her."

I wanted to ask what he meant by him not being the one
looking for her. Who was looking for her then?

I told him everything. From the moment I got the call from
Captain Miller, to the moment I arrived at Jack's Pub to see him. I may have
left out a detail or two about me and Emily, but he got the gist of it.

"So, she fell in love with you and decided her brother
wasn't worth it." It wasn't a question and the way he said it only
solidified the fact that I had made a mistake. A reasonable mistake, but one I
didn't want to prolong.

I loved her and I wasn't letting her go.

Ripley didn't say anything else for a few minutes and the
silence in the room was only broken by the occasional shout of voices out in
the hallway.

"I guess we all make mistakes," he finally
muttered and shook his head. "Rayce Dawson conned us all."

This was it. I knew without a doubt in my mind that I was
going to get the answer I needed.

"Emily is no longer at risk of any danger from me. I
know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but tell her I'm truly sorry her life
has been what it has, especially over the last year. I can admit when I make a
mistake."

Relief unlike any other coursed through me and the first
thought I had was to run to Emily and bring her home. Then I realized how
little sense he was making. This was the guy everyone was afraid of, the guy I
had spent a shit load of time trying to bring down.

"What do you mean you made a mistake?"

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned.
"I should have known a woman like that wouldn't frame my brother. I've
been watching her for a long time. Ever since her brother and that idiot
pressed into my business. She's a fucking angel. My cousin's niece was one of
her students." He chuckled at the look on my face. "Yeah, it's a
small world isn't it?"

He raked his hands through his spiked hair and kept them
there. "Thought I could use her if I needed to, but then, Dawson never
really showed any care for his sister. He's a prick who has no sense of
loyalty. Not even to family. So I let her be. When I found out it was her that
claimed to be a witness, I didn't take the time to think about it. She was a
Dawson and, unfortunately, I treated her like everyone has treated my little
brother over the years. Guilty by association. I never thought the kid would go
to these lengths, though." He dropped his hands and for the first time
since I showed up, he looked tired, done with the life he had been leading.

"Stan said he was in the bathroom when Greg was shot.
Didn't even hear the gun go off. When he walked out, Greg was dead and the gun
was on his chest. He had to pick up the gun to move it, tried to do CPR before
he saw the bullet hole was directly over his heart."

That's how his fingerprints ended up on the gun. How all
signs pointed to him. It was too easy.

"Greg and him had been friends for years and I paid the
cop to watch over Stan whenever he was in town. He'd been working for me for as
long as I can remember. Why do you think it's so hard for you people to take me
down?" he raised an eyebrow and watched the understanding cross over my
face.

"Son of a bitch."

"Can I assume that you
won't
take his
position?" he chuckled.