So Wright: The Wrights

by Jordan, Skye

  Miranda’s drive to work felt different. It even looked different. The sky seemed brighter, the roads clearer, the stoplights shorter. She even pulled into the best parking spot in the area, right on the street in front of the construction site.

  She grabbed her things and made her way across the site toward the construction elevator that would take her up to the twenty-seventh floor where she’d be working today. She watched the metal cage descend with her mind on everything but how she’d spend her day. There was suddenly so much good in her life, she felt shaky. Miranda had been disappointed so often in the past, she was too aware of how easily it could all be stripped away. Her relationship with Jack could snap from the physical distance between them. Roman’s offer could be swept out from under her in an instant. Gypsy could cave under the weight of the bar’s workload.

  There were too many wildcards in her life right now. Wildcards she couldn’t control. She hated the sensation of depending on others. Depending on Jack for her full heart, on Gypsy to create a family, on Roman, just a stranger, to fund her dream.

  But as the orange cage slid into place in front of her, Miranda thought about the risks Jack faced and how well he handled them all—family, business, partnership. If he could do it, there was no reason Miranda couldn’t.

  Before her subconscious could start fighting back with doubts, she stepped into the elevator.

  “Randy.” Alex stalked toward her, his expression concerned. “Can we talk?”

  Oh, good God. She was so not in the mood to hear his gripes about Jack again. And Jack’s vague warnings about keeping her distance from Alex returned to her, making all the muscles of her shoulders tense.

  “Get in,” she told him, stepping to the side. “I’m already running late.”

  Alex stepped in and shut the metal door while Miranda pressed the Up button. “Can I use your truck to move a few pallets of masonry to the other side of the site? The forklift is trapped behind a new load of steel and your truck’s right out front.”

  “Last time you used it, you left cement dust in the bed.”

  “Sorry. I’ll have the guys make sure it’s clean. And I’ll drop that welding wire at Warrior for you, too.”

  Miranda dug her keys from her bag and handed them to Alex. “What’s really bothering you?”

  “Are you seriously sleeping with him?”

  “What the—”

  “I know he was at Warrior Homes this weekend, and all over you. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  Miranda faced him. “I wasn’t concerned about you finding out because I wasn’t hiding anything. Whatever issues you have are between you and Jack. They don’t have anything to do with me, and I want to keep it that way.”

  “He’s out to get me,” Alex insisted. “He’s been out to get me since we were kids. You’re just his latest weapon. Friends don’t side with a friend’s enemy.”

  “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that he’s using me,” she said, growing angry. “As far as I can tell, you’re hurting yourself. Whatever you’re doing that could hurt Pinnacle or get you in trouble, end it. Now.”

  The elevator neared her destination, and Miranda slowed the car to a stop at the twenty-seventh floor.

  She pushed the cage door open, but before she could step out, Alex grabbed her arm. “It won’t take long for him to show his colors. Why won’t you listen to me?”

  The aggressive move shocked her and snapped her nerves. She jerked away from him and planted a hard shove against his shoulder, pushing him against the side of the cage so hard, it shook.

  “You damn well know better than to touch me like that.” She stayed right there, in his face. “Don’t you dare fucking cross that line with me again, Alex.” She stepped back, holding his angry gaze. “Get your shit together before it’s too late.”

  “This is no fucking fairy tale, Miranda. And he’s definitely no Prince Charming.”

  “Good.” She stepped out onto the floor. “Because I’m no fucking damsel, and I sure as shit don’t need any white knight.”

  24

  Jack cradled a cup of coffee between both hands at a café near his hotel as Klein slid into the booth across from him. Jack had fallen asleep after Miranda left for work and the investigator’s call had woken him. He hadn’t slept past eight a.m. in years. Now, at almost eleven, Jack grinned into his coffee. If he hadn’t already believed they were an amazing fit, watching her at Warrior Homes and with her family afterward had confirmed it. She might not know it yet, but they would be together. She’d come around when she saw they could make this thing work long-distance.

  Klein settled in and laid a pile of file folders on the Formica tabletop. “You were right on target. It looks like Alex has been selling off building supplies to contractors outside Pinnacle, everything from nails to lumber. And not a dime has gone back into Pinnacle bank accounts.”

  A spear of angry vindication traveled through Jack, and he slapped the table hard. “I knew it.”

  “It seems the company had an RFID tracking system in place some time ago,” Klein said, “and the larger pieces of equipment and tools are still tracked by GPS, but the supply system seems to have fallen apart about a year ago.”

  “Damn. Talk about a crime of opportunity. The minute my dad’s back was turned, he and Bruce attacked.”

  “To get solid evidence, I put in a temporary RFID system of my own, tagging supplies as they came on site, then tracking their use and the inventory over the past two weeks. I followed the GPS coordinates of those supplies and contacted the companies currently in possession of them. They confirmed Alex made the sales and are willing to testify against him to avoid being charged with possession of stolen merchandise.”

  Klein laid a folder in front of Jack, half an inch thick with purchase orders. “These are all the supplies I believe Alex sold off over the last year, since your mother passed and the RFID system was cut off.”

  Jack couldn’t bring himself to open the folder. This was going to be a nightmare to sort out. “Do you have any idea of the monetary value of what’s been stolen?”

  “From the time the RFID system tanked, I’ve estimated the total to be around two hundred thousand, which will get him a felony class B theft charge and between eight and thirty years in prison.”

  “If he’d just put as much effort into managing the project as he did stealing, he would have made that much in bonuses. He’s always been a greedy bastard.”

  “You and Jen need to go through this with a fine-tooth comb,” Klein said, “then have Tully double-check your numbers. To make the case as strong as possible, we only want to nail him for what we absolutely know and can prove he sold off. Once he knows he’s screwed, he’ll start implicating himself in all sorts of other shit. I’ve seen it a thousand times. We may also come up with evidence that other employees were involved. This was a big scam to handle on his own. Which brings me to one situation that doesn’t fit the pattern. As far as I can tell, this theft was perpetrated recently by an employee. But the employee has been close to Alex for a while, and she may be able to corroborate Alex’s scheme.”

  “Someone else in purchasing?” Jack asked. “A project coordinator?”

  “No.” Klein opened the folder, and Jack found himself staring at a headshot of Miranda taken for her work badge. “The welding forewoman.”

  Shock stung his gut. Confusion instantly clouded his head. He couldn’t connect Miranda with what they were talking about. She was so far removed from this fiasco, he couldn’t even put them in the same sphere of thought. “I don’t understand.”

  “Miranda Wright,” Klein said. “She’s been with Pinnacle six years. This is the only theft I can connect her to, but it’s a big one. About fifty thousand dollars’ worth of welding wire.”

  Jack shook his head. “That can’t be right.”

  Klein slid Miranda’s photo aside to expose another purchase order, this one with Miranda’s signature on it. “This is the order for the wire and oth
er welding supplies. It’s clearly excessive.” Then Klein showed Jack his phone. An app filled the screen with a map of the Warrior Homes site, where several blinking red dots showed within the property. “Each red dot is a spool. They cost about twelve grand a piece. She—”

  “Volunteers there. I know.” He slid his hand to his forehead, trying to get his mind to engage. To fit pieces together so he could dispel this accusation and get rid of the ugliness in front of him. “Fuck me.”

  “You know her.” It was a statement from Klein, not a question.

  “We’re…dating.” He sat back. “I mean, we have a thing. I don’t know how to explain this, but she wouldn’t steal. It’s just not her.”

  “How long have you been seeing each other?”

  “Two weeks.” God, had it only been two weeks? It felt like he’d known her for so much longer. “I met her my first night back in town.”

  “Did Pinnacle donate this wire? They’ve donated to her project in the past.”

  “That’s it.” All the air fled from his lungs. “That must be it.”

  Klein pulled out his phone and made a call to Jen. Before Jack could stop him, he asked Jen to check into Pinnacle’s donations to Miranda or Warrior Homes. And, fuck, Jack was going to hear about this when he saw Jen. Their father had told Jen all about Miranda and the project, and his sister easily made the connection between Miranda and Jack. She’d been impressed. Even given Jack a little nudge toward seeing where things with Miranda went. The only woman Jen had approved of him dating in years.

  After Klein disconnected, he uncovered another sheet beneath the purchase order. “She has a juvenile record.”

  The burn in his stomach turned into a tornado of acid. “What?” He cut a look at Klein. “I thought juvenile records were sealed.”

  “For legal purposes. For our purposes…” Klein lifted one shoulder.

  Jack pushed all ten fingers into his hair.

  “She has a rough past,” Klein said. “She’s been nailed for theft, burglary, and weapons charges.”

  Weapons? Jack shook his head. “This has to be wrong.” He pushed the folder away, sickened by this information. “Even if it’s not, that was a long time ago.”

  Klein looked at him with equal parts surprise and pity. His phone rang, and he picked up. “Yeah. You’re sure? Okay, I will. Thanks.”

  Jack’s heart knew what was coming, but his mind still fought back.

  “Jen says there haven’t been any donations to any person or company in six months. A donation of lumber and drywall were the last items given to Warrior Homes and there haven’t been any other approved or even requested donations to her project.”

  This is not happening.

  “Jen wants you to call her as soon as we’re done,” Klein said. “How much do you know about Wright?”

  Jack shook his head, unable to qualify in words what he felt in his heart—that she wasn’t the kind of person who would steal from a sick old man. “I know her childhood was miserable. She had a druggie mother who abandoned her when she was young. But she was taken in by one of her mother’s boyfriends—” He put up his hand as his eyes fell closed in dread. “That’s not how it sounds. He’s been a mentor to her. He’s a vet, a really—”

  The words good guy died before they made it out. Jack knew less about Marty Birch than he did about Miranda. And, shit, everything he didn’t know suddenly came into sharp focus. Even the things he did know twisted into a completely different light.

  He exhaled hard and forced all the junk from his mind. Klein remained quiet, giving Jack time to sort things out. Finally, Jack sat back. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand how this could happen. She’s not that person. She’s just…she’s not. She’s got a perfect work record with Pinnacle, and she donates all her free time to Warrior Homes.” He met Klein’s gaze, fearing the answer to his next question. “Has she been in trouble since she turned eighteen?”

  “Not that I can find.”

  “Why is there a ‘but’ in your voice?” Jack asked.

  “Listen, I’ve been doing this a long time. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, I’m reminded I haven’t. People fall off the wagon all the time. Most people try to put their lives back together and do the right thing. It works for a while, but then they come up against hard times or a particular situation, and they cave under the pressure. They rationalize the crime. Maybe she sees the wire as serving the greater good. It wouldn’t take much to justify robbing from the rich to give to the poor. Just this once.”

  They fell into silence again, and Jack tried so hard to put Miranda in the right, his brain felt bruised.

  “And, this may sound harsh,” Klein said, “but women have slept with men for less. If she knew what you were doing here, she may have been trying to distract you or track your investigation or simply get in good with you in case the worst came to light in hopes you’d go soft on her.”

  Jack’s mind flew back to the night they’d met, and for the second time in two weeks, he tried to determine which of them initiated the connection. Second-guessed her desire to jump into bed with him. Third-guessed her continued interest. “I don’t know anything right now.”

  “It’s your company and your call,” Klein said. “What do you want me to do?”

  But it wasn’t Jack’s company, it was his father’s. His family’s. And that was, ultimately, where his loyalty lay. “Arrest Alex. At work. Today.” He exhaled, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t know what to do about Miranda yet. But I need to talk to her first. And I don’t want anything happening to her at work.”

  He’d promised never to confront her in front of her peers again. And while Miranda might not live up to her promises, that didn’t mean Jack could give up on his.

  “You got it,” Klein said. “I’ve prepped the local police. Can have them there in the next hour. Something to think about: Wright will see Alex getting arrested. She’ll know we’re closing in on the truth. It’s not uncommon for people to run in this situation.”

  He shook his head. “She won’t run. This is all she knows. Everyone who’s important to her is here.”

  “All right, then. I’ll get the police over there, then head to the police station and listen in on the interrogation.” Klein collected the files Jack had barely looked at. “It goes without saying, but I can see your mind spinning, so I’m going to say it anyway. If you alert Wright to what’s going to happen, she could alert Alex. And he can get pretty far pretty fast with two hundred grand in cash. Best to keep this to yourself until Alex is in cuffs.”

  Jack slumped in his chair, feeling a hundred pounds heavier. “I get it.”

  For a day that had started out so well, it was going to end in the swamp.

  25

  Miranda was still feeling salty from her argument with Alex when she settled in on a beam with several other coworkers to eat lunch. Usually, she was the chatty one, asking them all about their families and hobbies. Since she couldn’t drum up the interest today, she prepared herself for another lunch hour of gossip about Jack’s appearance on the site and the rumors that he was there to shake things up.

  It won’t take long for him to show his colors.

  Alex’s assertion that Jack was using her and that he would turn on her still nagged in the back of her mind. Then Jack’s accusations about Alex stealing from Pinnacle joined the chorus in her head.

  “What’s this talk about you and the boss’s son?” Jay Washington sat next to her, unpacking a foil-wrapped sandwich. “You going white-collar on us, girl?”

  “Say it ain’t so.” Davis Montgomery sat on her other side, shining an apple on his filthy workpants. “You can do so much better.”

  “That’s what I told Tina.” Miranda smirked at Davis. “Aren’t you glad she didn’t listen?”

  The row of ten men guffawed at her barb about Davis’s wife of twelve years. That was all it took for the guys to know this subject would be met with a wall of sarcasm, and talk turned to other thi
ngs.

  Jay leaned in and lowered his voice. “What was that shit with Fischer this morning?” She met his gaze and found his dark eyes serious. “If he’s bothering you, I’ll set him straight. I don’t care what his title is.”

  “He’s just stressed,” she told him. “Don’t worry, I made it clear he was taking it out on the wrong person. But I’ll enlist your muscle if I need it.”

  “I’m here for you, girl.”

  Miranda bumped his shoulder in a silent thanks as she peeled an orange.

  “What’s in your bag today?” Ben Carver wanted to know from the end of the row. Gypsy had been packing Miranda’s lunches since she’d arrived, and Miranda’s leftovers had become heavily anticipated treats for the guys.

  “Meatball sub, cashews, orange, banana, trail mix, chocolate milk.”

  “Meatball sub?” Jay said. “Are you serious?”

  “Can I pay Gypsy to pack my lunch?” Davis asked, bringing a round of laughter.

  Miranda bit into a slice of sweet orange and looked out at the city skyline. As the guys talked about work, Miranda thought about her life and all the potential changes. If Roman followed through on the investment, she’d have a new business to run. If Gypsy really bought the bar, Miranda would need to support her until she was standing on her own. If Jack made good on his promise of a long-distance relationship, she’d have to manage her priorities so they could find quality time together.

  She finished her orange and reached into her bag for the sandwich. Movement below caught her eye. Two police cars pulled onto the site from the street, blocking work trucks and the flow of employees.

  “What’s up with that?” Ben asked.

  Pinpricks traveled the length of Miranda’s spine. Her first thought was that someone was hurt, but no ambulance sirens wailed in the distance, no rescue lights flashed along the streets.

  Miranda thought back to Alex’s anger that morning just as four police officers emerged from their cars. Four. This was no casual inquiry. The prickle of nerves invaded her stomach. She shoved her things back into her lunch bag and pushed to her feet. “I’m going to see what’s happening.”