So Wright: The Wrights

by Jordan, Skye

  She wanted to make sure none of her welders were involved. Wanted to make sure Alex hadn’t blown up and decked someone. Or worse.

  Miranda decided to take the stairs, a faster route than waiting for the elevator during lunch. By the time she reached the ground floor, she was dizzy and out of breath. Two officers had Alex in cuffs. The other two hovered nearby.

  Miranda came to a stop on the bottom step. “Alex? What’s going on?”

  His furious gaze cut to Miranda. “I told you. Just wait. You’re next.”

  The officers cast her a passing glance as one cupped a hand around Alex’s elbow to lead him down the steps and the other read Alex his rights.

  The sight, the words, the tone all triggered something in Miranda. Something dark and desperate from a world away. A fist curled in the pit of her stomach. She looked around at the shocked faces of her coworkers. “What the hell?”

  A day laborer she recognized but couldn’t identify by name leaned in. “Felony theft, they said.”

  Jack’s words instantly replayed in her head. He’s a bad guy, Miranda. Just like his father. We already know he’s dirty. We just haven’t determined to what degree.

  She hurried to Gillespie. “Boss, what’s happening?”

  The man pulled off his hard hat with one hand and wiped at the sweat beading on his balding head with the other and met Miranda’s gaze with worry in his blue eyes. “Felony theft, class B. He had to have stolen at least sixty thousand dollars for that charge.”

  Miranda’s air whooshed out. “Oh my God.”

  She glanced around the crowd that had gathered, searching for a familiar face—Jack or possibly Mr. Taylor, but neither was here.

  She stood there feeling helpless and unsteady as the two cruisers backed off the site and drove away with Alex.

  Gillespie turned and addressed everyone. “Show’s over, people. Finish your lunches, then get back to work.”

  The employees scattered with troubled murmurs.

  Miranda wandered toward the elevator and dialed Jack. As she waited for him to pick up, she turned her back on the other employees. His voice mail picked up, so she left a message.

  “Hey, it’s me. Shit is going down at the site today. What’s going on? Call me, please.” Miranda disconnected and entered the cage with five others, all of them atwitter over the arrests.

  Only one thought circled again and again in Miranda’s head: Jack was right about Alex.

  26

  Jack sat in the swing on the front porch of his childhood home, staring blankly at the sidewalk. He felt numb. His mind had stopped spinning, only to haze over.

  Jen pushed open the screen door and joined him on the swing, offering him a Corona with a lime.

  “Dad still napping?” he asked.

  She nodded, squeezed her own lime, and took a long drink of her beer.

  Good. Jack didn’t want him to hear any of this. Their dad was just getting back to being himself, and Jack definitely wanted to ease him into the business. He’d called Jen home from work to explain everything he’d uncovered and get her take on how to strategize cleanup.

  His cell rang, and he pulled it from his pocket to find Klein’s name on the screen. He connected and put it on speaker. “Hey. I’ve got Jen here with me.”

  “Regarding Miranda Wright,” he said. “Her buddy Alex was quick to roll on her. Said she’s been stealing for Warrior Homes for the last year. I’m doubling my efforts on past purchase orders, and Tully is sinking into the Warrior Homes financials. If it’s there, we’ll find it.”

  Jack bent at the waist, propping his elbows on his knees, dropping his head in his hands.

  “Thanks, Stuart,” Jen said. “Keep us posted with updates?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jack disconnected, and he and his sister sat in silence for a long moment.

  “What do you think?” Jen finally asked.

  Jack sat back. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I understand that you can’t really know someone after only two weeks, but I just can’t imagine her doing this. Yet I can’t deny there is fifty grand in wire sitting on the Warrior Homes building site with no authority to be there. And why would Alex implicate her if it weren’t true? They’re friends.”

  Jen pushed the swing with her foot. “I guess you never really know someone. Look at Bruce. After thirty years of working with Dad, no one expected him to do what he’s done.”

  “I can’t figure her out. She volunteers for a good cause, yet she’s stolen in the past. She has a spotless record at Pinnacle but didn’t tell me she worked there. She’s friendly and warm, but if you get too close, she pushes you away.”

  “That’s a lot of black-and-white thinking,” Jen said. “No one is all good or all bad. Maybe there’s just more gray in Miranda than you realized. She’s had a rough life. Sometimes people who’ve struggled in the ways she has don’t see things the same way we would. Don’t do the things that we would. Her mother certainly didn’t set her up for success.”

  Jen sat back and took a sip of her beer. Staring out at the street, she said, “Unfortunately, I don’t think there is any sure way to know. You’ll have to see what she says.”

  27

  Miranda pulled down the tailgate of her truck and sat on the edge. Spur’s parking lot was mostly empty but for the cars of the prep cooks and opening bartender.

  She was anxious to hear what Jack had to say about the arrest, but something about his choice of meeting place didn’t sit right with her. He should have made dinner plans or asked her to his hotel. The bar’s parking lot was just…odd. As if he would base where they went next off this conversation.

  His car pulled into the lot, and her heart jumped. Excitement stirred in her belly, and she couldn’t hold back the automatic smile. But as he parked beside her truck, she saw his face, and his expression wiped her smile clean away.

  She decided not to greet him the way she wanted to, with a hug and a kiss. She stayed on her tailgate as he got out of his car. He was tense, shoulders stiff, spine straight. No swagger whatsoever. Nope, this was not good news.

  Miranda pressed her hands to the tailgate and curved her fingers over the edge.

  He stopped beside her and lifted one hip to the tailgate. “Hi.”

  There was pain in his voice. Miranda braced herself. “Are you okay?”

  “This is…stressful.”

  When he didn’t go on, she asked, “Was Alex in on the embezzlement with Bruce?”

  Jack shrugged. “Not that we’ve been able to connect. Maybe when we find Bruce, we’ll know for sure.”

  “Then why was he arrested?”

  Jack took a deep breath and met her gaze, but his was shuttered. He seemed very far away emotionally. “He was stealing. Over-ordering, then selling off the excess for cash.”

  Her air left her on a sharp exhale. “Shit.”

  Jack nodded, his gaze on the ground.

  “What’s going to happen to them?” she asked.

  “He’s going to prison.”

  “What?”

  “Tennessee has strong theft laws.”

  “Are you’re sure he was stealing? It’s not some screwup in the books? It’s not something his father did?”

  “Our accountant and I noticed a discrepancy in the supply charges for this project. While our investigator was tracking Bruce, we had him look into it. He found that the RFID system used to track supplies fell apart about a year ago, when all the turmoil was happening with my family. The investigator replaced it with one of his own a few weeks back, tracked supplies leaving the site to other construction companies, and got confirmation that Alex sold them supplies, then pocketed the money.”

  Her stomach dropped. “Jesus.”

  His jaw jumped with stress, and she could tell there was more. “Miranda, the investigator also found several spools of welding wire missing.” A chill slid down the center of her body. A bunch of brain cells clicked together in the background, creating an ugly feeling in the
pit of her stomach. “They were tracked to the Warrior Homes site.”

  “What?”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped the face, and held it out to her. “Those blinking red dots are spools of welding wire worth nearly fifty thousand dollars, and they’re sitting at Warrior Homes.”

  Right. She’d forgotten in all the turmoil of Alex getting arrested. “He said he was going to donate wire to the site. But I thought he meant one or two spools, not that many.”

  He turned his head and met her gaze. She’d seen that look before—on so many faces. Doubt. Suspicion. Distrust. “There’s no donation request. No one in the company knows anything about it. And your truck delivered the spools to the site today. Pete Holloway verified it.”

  Tension sang through her shoulders. She pushed off the tailgate and crossed her arms. “You called Pete Holloway before you asked me?”

  He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. It was all written on his face. The distrust, the accusation.

  “Alex asked to borrow my truck this morning to move supplies around the site. He said he’d drop the wire at Warrior for me.” She threw her arms out to the side. “I guess I should have followed through to make sure all the paperwork was done, but I’ve never handled that before. I assumed Alex would do it. Maybe he would have if he hadn’t been arrested before the end of the day.”

  Jack lowered his head and walked a tight circle. “I want to believe you, Miranda. I really want to believe you.”

  “You want to believe me? Why wouldn’t you believe me?”

  “Alex told the police you stole the wire. That you’ve been stealing supplies for Warrior Homes for a year.”

  Ice filled her stomach. “Alex would never say—”

  Her mind flashed to his anger toward her earlier in the day. It won’t take long for him to show his colors. Why won’t you listen to me? Then to the rage on his face just before he was placed in the police car. I told you. Just wait. You’re next.

  Her brain tangled. Had Alex had lied because he was pissed? Or had Alex been right about Jack all along?

  He faced her again. “And you haven’t been exactly transparent with me.”

  “Transparent?” Anger erupted beneath her ribs. “I’m not a fucking politician, and I’ve never lied to you.”

  “But you haven’t been truthful either.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means your history is even sketchier than you told me.”

  “Did you just call me sketchy?” A dark and dirty storm kicked up inside Miranda. Her past coming back fast and furious.

  “You’ve been arrested multiple times,” he said, clearly both angry and troubled by the fact. “You’ve stolen in the past. Why should I think you wouldn’t do it again?”

  “I was a kid,” she yelled. “A stupid, scared kid. What makes you think I would do it again?”

  “You need that wire to finish the job. That job is earning you credibility for investors.”

  Miranda shut her mouth so hard, her teeth clicked. Looking into his eyes now, it was clear doubt outweighed whatever feelings he’d developed for her.

  “You convinced yourself I was guilty before you ever got here.” A wild frenzy of emotion broke open inside her. Hurt, disappointment, anger, fear. “If you really think I did it, why didn’t you have the police arrest me today along with the others?”

  “Because I promised I’d never confront you at work again.”

  That stole her breath. Not because he couldn’t believe she would do this. Not because he cared about her too much to hurt her this way. But because he was keeping a promise.

  Tears came out of nowhere and blurred her vision. Pain stabbed her chest.

  “I’m not having you arrested,” Jack said, his voice low and solemn. “But I have to suspend you until we figure it out.”

  She took an aggressive step toward him before she stopped herself. “Are you serious right now? After six spotless years with Pinnacle and the word of your enemy who’s been stealing from you, you’re…” Words choked in her throat, and she took a second to find them again. “I’ve told you all you need to know to figure it out. What it comes down to is whether or not you trust me.”

  He held her gaze, but had no answer.

  Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong friends. Wrong decisions. Jack Taylor was just one more wrong turn. Story of her ever-loving wrong life.

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t thank you.” She moved toward the driver’s door, and her throat tightened with regret as she passed him. “Goodbye, Jack.”

  Miranda couldn’t get out of that parking lot fast enough. If Alex weren’t in jail, she’d track him down and choke the truth out of him. By the time she turned onto the street, tears streamed down her cheeks. Anger and hurt seethed inside her. She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “Fucking bastards.”

  She didn’t know where she was going, she just drove, turning on random streets until she calmed down enough to think.

  But it was two hours later when she finally pulled up behind her trailer. Lights were on all around the property, everyone going about business as usual. But Miranda’s world had fallen completely apart.

  She glanced at her face in the rearview mirror and groaned. Fuck it, she would just tell everyone she had the flu and stay in bed until she got her shit together.

  As soon as she got out of the truck, she heard retching. And it was coming from her trailer. She hurried up the stairs and found Gypsy bent over the toilet.

  Her own troubles faded. Miranda dropped to her knees beside her sister and pulled her hair back from her face. “I was just thinking I had the flu. How long have you been sick?”

  Instead of answering, Gypsy heaved again. Miranda winced at the painful sound. After a few minutes of relief, Gypsy reached up and flushed the toilet. Miranda moved out of the bathroom to give her sister room to rinse her mouth and splash water on her face. Gypsy turned and dropped to a seat on the edge of the tub, head in her hands.

  “You poor thing.” Somehow it felt good to have someone else to worry about. The flu was something she could deal with. Something she could do something about. Miranda reached out and tested the heat of Gypsy’s forehead against the back of her hand, then pressed it against her neck. “No fever. How long have you been feeling sick?”

  Gypsy exhaled heavily. “A fucking month.”

  All the little signs of Gypsy feeling less than stellar flooded back to her. She dropped to a crouch in front of Gypsy, one hand on her knee. “Why? What’s wrong? Have you seen a doctor? Are you sick? Like with something other than the flu?”

  “Yeah.” Gypsy lifted her head and looked at Miranda with utter misery and defeat. “I’m pregnant.”

  Shock and confusion battled and closed Miranda’s throat. She managed a strangled “What?”

  Gypsy groaned and rubbed her face with both hands.

  Miranda pushed to her feet and stepped back. “Are you fucking joking? Because that’s not the least bit funny.”

  Gypsy dropped her hands and shook her head. “Not joking.” She looked up at Miranda, her eyes dull. “I’m about ten weeks.”

  Miranda’s head went light. She swayed and steadied herself with a hand on the doorjamb. "What the fuck? How long have you known?”

  “Since I started throwing up a month ago.”

  “You’ve known you were pregnant for a month? And I’m finding out about this now?”

  Gypsy didn’t react to Miranda’s frustration. She braced her hands on the tub’s edge, steadying herself. “I haven’t seen or talked to you in so long, I didn’t want to just spring it on you. I wanted to, you know, see how things went between us before I told you.”

  Miranda’s exhausted mind and raw emotions winged to the extremes. “That’s why you came. There was no nightclub raid. No stalker. No apartment fire. You came here because you’re pregnant.”

  When Gypsy didn’t deny it, Miranda walked out of the bathroom. She pressed a palm agains
t her throbbing head and paced the small space. She couldn’t get her thoughts straight. Her head felt like it was going to explode.

  Gypsy finally made her way into the living room and dropped onto the sofa. “I’m sorry, Miranda. I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.”

  Miranda spun on her. “Who’s the father?”

  “I don’t know. It was just a one-night thing.”

  “No way, Gypsy. There is no way in hell I’m taking on this responsibility. I’m not your mother or your caretaker or your fucking backstop. I’m not taking care of you, and I’m sure as shit not taking care of a baby.”

  “I don’t expect that.”

  “Then what do you expect?” she yelled. “Why in the hell did you come here?”

  Gypsy’s mouth opened, moved with silent words before she finally said, “I wanted to be with family.”

  “Family who would take care of this baby.”

  “No, not take care of it, maybe just, I don’t know, love it. Love me.”

  Miranda shook her head hard. “If you really love this kid, you’ll give it up for adoption.”

  Gypsy’s face dropped with shock. “What?”

  “You’ve been lying about it from day one. What mother lies about their kid? I’ll tell you what kind—ours. Our mother lied about my existence whenever a new man came into the picture. She got clean, found a nice guy, and hooked him, all before he knew she had a kid or a habit. She sent me to the neighbor’s house or to the playground or to just wander off alone while she ‘entertained’ her boyfriend. She lied about me until she got what she wanted. Then she’d surprise the guy with me. He was already enamored with her, so he usually accepted she had a kid.”

  “I…I’m sorry,” Gypsy said. “I didn’t know—”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She faced Gypsy with hot tears streaming down her face. “The point is that you’ve been lying about your baby while you wheedle your way into my life, Marty’s and Elaina’s lives. Then, when you felt secure, you were going to spring it on us—after you’d bought the bar, after I’d built you a home on this property. Surprise, I’m pregnant, and you have to live with it.”