by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)
Ty offered to put her flight on his expense account and Jordana let him. She wasn’t going to let pride get in the way of getting to Chicago. Following a quick message to Reese explaining the situation, she quickly packed, smothering the little voice in the back of her head that cautioned against doing this. Ty was probably right but she couldn’t bring herself to stay back. Clint needed her. She wasn’t going to let him face this terrible news alone. Reese would be able to handle anything on the warehouse murders until she returned but Clint was in grave danger and needed her.
But what if, when she arrived, she was the last person Clint wanted to see? It wasn’t as if she expected him to welcome her with open arms but she hoped he wasn’t hostile. People with broken hearts were unpredictable in their reactions. It would crush her if Clint said awful things and pushed her way.
Judging by what Ty said, Clint had been suffering. She hated that she was the cause of that pain, but ultimately, it’d been best for them both. At least, that’s what she told herself when she white-knuckled her urge to pick up the phone and apologize for running away.
The heart could justify just about anything. Such as making a trip to Chicago to deliver bad news.
Ah, for crying out loud, who was she trying to convince? She missed him. She missed Clint in a way that defied logic, the pain of his absence like a physical thing.
Trying to ignore the pain of his absence was like trying to ignore a knife in her side.
So, it was probably really shortsighted of her to jump onto a plane to see the man she was trying to put in her rearview mirror. These circumstances weren’t ordinary, though, she reminded herself. It wasn’t as if she were traipsing off to see an ex-boyfriend for funsies or just to see if the spark was still there because she saw him on Facebook and he looked pretty good.
That was what her friend Layla did. Left her life in Braxville to go see an old boyfriend who had relocated to Washington state. For her, it worked out. Layla and her guy were living happily in that soggy state as if the years apart meant nothing.
But that was a fairy-tale ending that wasn’t going to work out for Jordana and she wasn’t expecting it to.
What was she expecting? First things first, she needed to make sure Clint was safe. Then they’d navigate the choppy waters of getting justice.
Of course Alex should go to jail but white-collar crime was usually given a slap on the wrist. Pay restitution, do some community service.
But if Alex was behind the attacks on Clint’s life? That was a whole different story. Alex was in deep trouble if that was the case. Honestly, Jordana wasn’t sure which scenario she hoped for more. A friend can forgive a lapse in judgment fueled by greed. It’s a lot harder to forgive attempted murder.
* * *
Jeana entered his office to announce, “Miss Colton is here to see you,” and if he hadn’t looked up in shock to find Jordana walk in, he would’ve sworn he’d misheard her. But there she was. Looking as beautiful as ever with her kissed-by-the-Kansas-sun skin, her eyes bright and those long legs that he remembered quite clearly kissing the length to find the promised land, and striding into his office with purpose. An Amazon warrior queen—that’s what she looked like. That is, if an Amazon warrior queen was licensed to carry a gun instead of throwing a spear.
He blinked, half-afraid he was imagining Jordana, but when Jeana quietly closed the door behind her, leaving them alone, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. Jordana was here.
And he couldn’t play it cool. He was overjoyed. “You came back?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”
“I came to deliver you the news personally about who’s been embezzling from your company,” she said, her expression chagrined. “I wanted you to hear it from a friendly face.”
“That doesn’t bode well,” he said, losing some of his joy. He held his breath, afraid of her answer. “Why didn’t Ty tell me?”
“He was going to but I told him I’d do it. Seemed appropriate that since we started this journey together, I should be here with you when it ends.”
“Don’t say it like that—sounds like I’m dying or something.”
She chuckled. “Sorry about that.”
“At any rate, I’m glad you’re here,” he said, coming toward her. The tremulous smile on her lips told him she missed him, too. He wanted to fold her into his arms but there was also something about her body language that told him she wasn’t there to pick up where they left off. He folded his arms across his chest, ready for the bad news. “All right, hit me, who’s been stealing from me?”
“Ty found evidence that... Alex Locke has been stealing from the company for years. I’m so sorry.”
He wasn’t prepared for that punch to the chest. He’d half expected it to be a disgruntled employee looking to get even or a current lower-level employee with a grudge.
But Alex? Why? That couldn’t be true. “Alex has no reason to steal from me. Ty is wrong.”
“He’s not wrong. Ty is very good at what he does. Ty sent me the documents.” Jordana pulled her phone from her purse and queued up the files for him to see.
He accepted the phone in disbelief. Scanning the documents, he saw what he couldn’t bring himself to believe. Alex? “I don’t understand,” he said. “Alex does not need to steal from the company. His net worth—”
“Is all on paper. Alex Locke is cash poor and he’s teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. I’m sure he thought he didn’t have a choice.”
“He could’ve asked me for a loan if he was struggling.” Clint, still reeling, was having a hard time wrapping his head around this information. “He’s my oldest friend. I would’ve helped him out.”
“Pride is a powerful thing,” Jordana said sadly. Drawing a deep breath, she continued. “But now that we know, we need to alert Chicago authorities. They need to take over from this point.”
“Turn him in? No, I don’t want to do that. The bad press will kill this company. No, I’ll handle it privately.”
“I know you have to think about your company but you need to let the authorities in because there’s a chance that Alex was the one who tried to kill you.”
“No, I don’t believe that at all. Sure, money problems I can understand. Bad judgment, whatever. But Alex would never try to kill me. That’s absurd.”
“I know how it feels to want something not to be true but the evidence is right here. Alex is the thief but he could also be the one who is trying to kill you. You can’t take that chance. Once he figures out that you know, he might get desperate. Desperate people do stupid things. Don’t let your friendship blind you.”
“I need a minute to process,” Clint said, leaning against his desk. He couldn’t deny he was seeing the paper trail leading straight to Alex’s doorstep but he couldn’t accept that Alex had tried to kill him. “What does Alex have to gain if I’m dead?”
“Sole ownership of Broadlocke?” Jordana guessed as if it were a no-brainer. “He has money problems. Think of how it would benefit him to have you gone. Maybe he’s tired of running plans by you or having to share the responsibility of decisions. I don’t know, people do terrible things for less reasons.”
Clint had a hard time accepting that Alex would do this to him but a niggling sense that Alex often chafed against Clint’s decisions gave Jordana’s theory a little more weight. Sure, he and Alex didn’t always agree on which accounts to take, but in the end, they always managed to make it work.
Betrayal tasted bitter in his mouth. Jordana’s expression softened, and she reached out to him, placing a hand gently on his, offering a simple, “I’m sorry,” but he couldn’t produce an appropriate response because his throat was choked up. Finally, he managed, “Meet me at the penthouse. I need to talk to Alex,” but Jordana wasn’t having it.
“No, that’s a bad idea,” Jordana protested, but his mind was made up. He and Alex had started this business from the g
round up. He deserved answers and he wanted the man to look him in the eye when he gave them. But he should’ve known Jordana wasn’t going to hang back. “If you’re hell-bent on making a stupid decision, I’m not letting you go in without backup.”
He already knew he loved her but in that moment, eyes shining with grim acceptance, willing to face an uncertainty with him, he loved her that much harder.
When this was all said and done...he was going to make things right with Jordana.
Chapter 27
Jordana knew there was a high probability of things turning bad once Clint confronted Alex. She’d seen too many instances where people got hurt. And against her better judgment, she didn’t alert the authorities as she wanted to. Clint wanted to handle this himself. Jordana wouldn’t dream of letting him walk into the lion’s den alone, even if it meant things could go seriously sidewise.
Alex, similar to Clint, lived in a posh building on the top floor, but the immediate difference between Clint’s place and Alex’s was stark. For one, it looked as if Alex had been burglarized and just forgot to call police and report it. What little furniture remained in the room lay toppled as if someone had thrown them in a rage. One chair rested on its back with a broken leg. A wall mirror was shattered as if it’d been punched. Beyond that, the place was relatively bare but there was evidence on the walls that art or decor had once hung there. There was an air of sadness and ruin that was hard to miss.
“What the hell, man?”
By the look on Clint’s face, it’d been a while since he’d been to his friend’s place and the last time he was there it hadn’t looked like this.
“Hey, uh, what are you doing here?” Alex asked, his gaze darting from Jordana to Clint, trying not to squirm. “I wasn’t expecting guests tonight.”
“Or ever, if your place is any judge. What’s going on?”
Alex ran a hand through his hair, irritated. “It’s been a rough night. How about we talk about this in the morning. I’ve been getting ready to remodel, is all.”
But Clint was already piecing together the puzzle. “You’ve been selling your stuff. Why?”
“No!” Alex barked a short, nervous laugh. “Why the hell would I sell? No, I mean, I got rid of a few things because I’m going in a different direction. You know me, I bore easily. Probably why I can’t keep a girlfriend for longer than six months.”
The attempt at a joke fell flat. Jordana shifted against the tension in the room. Clint held Alex’s stare as he said, “I know you’ve been embezzling from the company. Upward of millions.” He took another glance around. “Judging by the sparse furnishings, I’m guessing you’ve had money problems for a while. What is it? Drugs? Gambling? What’s your vice, man? Something made you take that leap. What was it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex said, becoming defensive. “Is this what that crap private investigator told you? He’s messing with you. Probably trying to get some more billable hours by sending you on a wild-goose chase. It’s all crap, man. I would never steal from the company. That would be like stealing from myself.”
“Or stealing from me,” Clint replied, unfazed by Alex’s denial. The paper trail was hard to ignore. “You’ve got five seconds to come clean before I call the Chicago PD and report you. Help me understand what the hell you were thinking.”
Alex sent a sharp look Jordana’s way. “This is probably her doing. She’s got her brother sending you bad intel for some reason. Maybe you ought to look a little more deeply into her background before you start pointing fingers.”
“Leave Jordana out of this. Right now, she’s the only thing standing between you and my fists because I’m seeing red. Start talking.”
Jordana’s muscles tensed. If things were going to go down, this was the moment. Razor wire separated them from all hell breaking loose and calm, rational thought. A tic spasmed Alex’s right eye. The air practically bristled with taut energy. Clint held Alex’s stare. “Don’t make me report you,” he warned.
Finally, Alex crumpled under the pressure, releasing a pent-up breath as he walked away from Clint to drop onto the sofa, the picture of a broken man who couldn’t run any longer.
“It started innocently enough,” Alex started. “A game here and there to win over clients, networking to bring in new business. A few wins, a few losses, no big deal. It was all business.”
“You’re addicted to gambling,” Jordana finished for him.
Alex didn’t want to admit it but he grudgingly nodded. “Not sure how it happened, but before I knew it, I was up to my eyeballs in debt to some shady people. The only way I could pay them off was to dip a little in the company books but I fully planned to pay it all back.”
“Except you didn’t,” Jordana said.
“No, I didn’t,” he said bitterly. “And then I had to borrow more. I had to keep up the flow or else I’d sink. It was like trying to swim in quicksand. I could never get a foothold and I was barely keeping my head above water.”
“Why didn’t you come to me for help?” Clint asked. “You have a problem. I would’ve helped you before it got to this point.”
“Hey, I don’t need Clint Broderick coming in to save the day, all right?” Some of that earlier bristling returned. “I can save myself. And I did. I was doing good for a while. My luck was turning around, I could feel it.”
“Spoken like a true addict,” Jordana said. “It’s always the next game, or the one after that, that’s going to make everything right again.”
Alex didn’t appreciate her input but he knew enough to keep his tongue in his head. Clint rubbed his forehead. “So how deep are you?”
“Uh, a million.”
Clint swore under his breath. “Jesus, Alex, what have you done?”
“Look, I know it was stupid. I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I’m underwater, man. There’s no stopping what’s happening at this point.”
Jordana’s ears pricked at something in Alex’s statement. Taking a chance on her gut, she said, “So, when did you hire the hit man to take Clint out?”
Clint looked sharply to Jordana but then slewed his gaze at Alex, awaiting an answer. Jordana knew Clint wanted Alex to deny that part, to prove that he wasn’t a murderer, just a thief. But when Alex’s eyes watered and he choked on his admission, Jordana knew with a sinking heart her gut hadn’t been wrong.
“Man, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking! I was desperate, out of my head, scared. I was messed up. I wanted to take it back but it was too late.”
“What was too late?” Jordana asked.
“The hit was paid. I couldn’t take it back without it coming back on me. I didn’t know how these things worked, and when I called to cancel I got a message that there were no refunds, and if I tried to do anything to cancel the hit, I’d be next.”
“Who is this person?” Jordana asked, immediately grabbing her phone to call Chicago PD. “We have to call the police.”
“No! They’ll kill me for ratting them out. Besides, I don’t have a name, just a number, and it’s a burner phone. It’s not like you can just flip through Yelp and find a contract killer. There are channels you got to go through and they don’t mess around.”
“You hired someone to kill me?” The pain in Clint’s voice tore at Jordana. “How could you? We were friends. You were my best friend. Stealing money I can understand but to want me dead?”
Alex buried his head in his hands in shame. “I’d do anything to take it back, man. I regretted it the minute I set the plan in motion. When I heard that you’d been attacked in Braxville but you thought it was a robbery gone wrong, I was relieved. I thought maybe the hit man might’ve thought he got the job done and moved on. But I got a message saying, Attempt two, and then your car got hit. That’s how I knew that it wasn’t over yet. I’ve been trying to think of a way out of this but I’m spun out of ideas. I’m so
sorry, man.”
“I need everything you have on this contract,” Jordana said to Alex, disgusted by the man’s weakness. “I can run a trace on the phone and see who it leads to.”
“It’s a burner phone. You’re not going to find anyone,” Alex insisted. “Look, you should do yourself a favor and take a vacation while I sort this out. I’ll figure out how to fix this, but in the meantime, get out of town.”
“Sorry if I don’t take advice from you right now,” Clint said coldly. “If you’d come to me before you started this, maybe we could’ve fixed it together. It’s too late now.”
“What are you going to do?”
“The only choice you’ve left me,” Clint answered, his phone going to his ear. “I’d like to make a report of embezzlement and attempted murder.”
Alex broke down and sobbed. There was nothing more to be said.
* * *
Clint’s lips were numb as he watched Chicago’s finest take his best friend into custody. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Alex had screwed him over for money.
“I didn’t see this coming,” he admitted to Jordana, his voice hoarse from trapped tears he couldn’t cry. Alex didn’t deserve his tears. “He was willing to see me dead over money. How could he betray me like this?”
Clint knew Jordana didn’t have the answers but her pained expression told him that she wished she did.
One of the officers broke away to ensure Clint was going to come to the station to make a statement.
“First thing in the morning,” Jordana jumped in, sliding her hand through his, explaining to the officer, “It’s been an overwhelming night.”
“Of course.” The uniform nodded and handed Clint a contact card. “Ask for Detective Milton.”
Clint nodded and the officers took Alex away. Clint locked up Alex’s apartment and they walked out of the building. Jordana started to hail a taxi but he stopped her. “Can we just walk for a minute? I need to clear my head.”