son,” said Colin, emotion shimmering in his eyes as he shook Jackson’s hand.
His grip was firmer than Jackson had expected.
Jackson’s attention shifted to a second man seated at the round table, half annoyed by his presence, but half curious as well.
“It’s good to see you,” said Colin.
Jackson didn’t respond, instead raising his brow inquiringly at the stranger.
Colin cleared his throat and released Jackson’s hand. “Jackson, this is Trent Corday. Trent and I have been cell mates for the past year.”
It seemed more than strange that Colin would bring a friend to this meeting. But Jackson wasn’t about to waste time dwelling on the question.
He looked back to his father. “What is it you want?”
He could only guess there must be a parole hearing coming up. If there was, Colin was on his own. Jackson wouldn’t help him get out of prison early. Colin had three years left on his sentence, and as far as Jackson was concerned, he deserved every minute.
His selfish actions had harmed dozens of victims, not the least of which was Jackson’s mother. She’d been inconsolable after the trial, drinking too much, abusing prescription painkillers, succumbing to cancer five years later just as Jackson graduated from high school.
Colin gestured to one of the stools. “Please, sit.”
Jackson perched himself on the small metal seat.
“Trent has a problem,” said Colin, sitting down himself.
What Trent’s problem could possibly have to do with Jackson was the first question that came to mind. But he didn’t ask—instead, he waited.
Trent filled the silence. “It’s my daughter. I’ve only been inside for three years. A misunderstanding, really, I—”
“Save it,” said Jackson.
Seventeen years ago, he’d listened to Colin protest endlessly about how he’d been framed, then railroaded, then misunderstood. Jackson wasn’t here to listen to the lies of a stranger.
“Yes, well...” Trent glanced away.
Jackson looked at his watch.
“She’s fallen victim,” said Trent. He fished into the pocket of his blue cotton shirt. “It’s the Gerhard family. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them.”
Jackson gave a curt nod.
Trent put a photograph on the table in front of Jackson. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Jackson’s gaze flicked down.
The woman in the picture was indeed beautiful, likely in her midtwenties, with rich auburn hair, a bright, open smile, shining green eyes. But her looks were a moot point.
“She’s getting married,” said Trent. “To Vern Gerhard. They hide it well. But that family’s known to a lot of the guys in here. Vern is a con artist and a crook. So is his father, and his father before that.”
The woman obviously had questionable taste in men. Jackson found that less than noteworthy. In his line of work, he’d come across plenty of women who’d married the wrong guy, even more whose husbands didn’t meet with the approval of their fathers. Again, this had nothing to do with him.
He looked back to Colin. “What is it you want from me?”
“We want you to stop the wedding,” said Colin.
It took a second for the words to compute inside Jackson’s head. “Why would I do anything like that?”
“He’s after her money,” said Trent.
“She’s a grown woman.” Jackson’s glance strayed to the photo again.
She looked to be twenty-six or twenty-seven. He doubted she was thirty. With a face like that and any kind of money in the mix, she had to know she was going to attract a few losers. If she didn’t recognize them herself, there wasn’t anything Jackson could do about it.
Colin spoke up again. “She can’t possibly know she’s being conned. The girl places a huge value on honesty and integrity, has done her entire life. If she knew the truth, she wouldn’t have anything to do with him.”
“So tell her.”
“She won’t speak to me,” said Trent. “She sure won’t listen to me. She doesn’t trust me as far as she can throw me.”
“I’m sure you can relate to that particular viewpoint,” said Colin, an edge to his voice.
“That’s what you want to say to me?” Jackson rose to his feet. No way, no how was he buying into a guilt trip from his old man.
“Sit down,” said Colin.
“Please,” said Trent. “Year ago, I put something in her name, shares in a diamond mine.”
“Lucky for her.”
The woman might well be picking the wrong husband, but at least she’d have a comfortable lifestyle.
“She doesn’t know about it,” said Trent.
For the first time since he’d walked in, Jackson’s curiosity was piqued. “She doesn’t know she owns a diamond mine?”
Both men shook their heads.
Jackson looked at the picture again, picking it up from the table. She didn’t appear naive. In fact, if he had to guess, he’d say she looked intelligent. But she was drop-dead gorgeous. In his eight years as a private detective, he’d discovered features like that made women targets.
“Hear us out,” said Colin. “Please, son.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay. Fine. Whatever you want.” Colin was nodding again.
“You hear things in here. And the Gerhards are dangerous,” said Trent.
“More dangerous than you two felons?” Jackson didn’t like that he’d become intrigued by the circumstances, but he had.
“Yes,” said Trent.
Jackson hesitated for a beat, but then he sat back down. Another ten minutes wouldn’t kill him.
“They found out about the mine,” said Trent, his tone earnest.
“You know this for sure?” asked Jackson.
“I do.”
“How?”
“A friend of a friend. The Borezone Mine made a promising new discovery a year ago. Only days later, Vern Gerhard made contact with my daughter. Final assaying
