So Wright: The Wrights

by Jordan, Skye

  Miranda was so livid, she literally couldn’t see straight. Her vision hazed and wavered. Her brain felt like it rattled inside her skull. “No kid deserves to be an afterthought. You should give this baby to someone who will put it first, not last. Someone who will stand up for it, protect it, and love it, not hide it or use it as a tool.”

  Now Gypsy was crying. And Miranda felt like she was on the edge of sanity.

  “Fuck this.” She turned for the door. “Fuck everything.”

  28

  It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Miranda had sped away from him, and Jack already felt like he’d been hit by a truck, bruised and achy. And guilty. So damn guilty. He was still torn over whether or not to believe she was involved. He’d even gone to the jail to confront Alex, but he’d refused to see Jack.

  He turned onto his father’s street and spotted what Jen said Jack had to see for himself—spools and spools of welding wire piled in his father’s driveway.

  A heavy breath pushed from his lungs. He stopped at the curb, shut down the engine, and stared at the bales. She was definitely trying to make a statement by hauling these spools here to dump them. Clearly a “fuck you.” But was it a Fuck you for catching me or a Fuck you for doubting me? Jack didn’t appreciate his gut telling him it was the latter.

  His cell rang. It was Klein.

  “Hey,” Jack answered.

  “Hey, we’ve got a lead on Fischer. Law enforcement says he just docked at Jolly Harbour in Antigua. I’m at the airport, headed there now.”

  Jack closed his eyes, and some tension drained from his shoulders. “That’s good news.”

  “I haven’t made much headway in searching for other thefts by Wright,” he told Jack. “I’m about to board, but I’ll keep looking and touch base when I can.”

  “Hey, why don’t you forward those files to me. I wouldn’t mind digging in.” The sooner Jack could cleared her name, the better.

  “Sure thing.”

  Jack disconnected, only to be faced with the fucking wire again. He put in a call to Gillespie and asked him to get someone to come pick it up.

  Jen was out on the porch with all three boys by the time Jack climbed the stairs.

  “You look like hell,” Jen told him.

  “Feel worse.” He dropped his hand to Jacob’s head and ruffled his hair. “Hey, buddy.”

  She lifted her chin toward the wire bundles. “If the circumstances were different, I might like her. She’s got some…” She darted a look at the boys, then back. “Cojones.”

  “What’s cojones?” Jacob asked.

  Jen and Jack just smiled.

  “That she does,” Jack admitted. He admired her, even when she was flipping him off.

  Her furious, disgusted, Goodbye, Jack snapped in his head. It had kept him up all night.

  The boys sat on the steps and played with toy cars. Jen bounced Joshua on her knee.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have suspended her,” Jack admitted aloud for the first time. “It just cast doubt on her character. Maybe we could have just kept it quiet until we had more concrete evidence.”

  “Even Klein thought we had enough to have her questioned by police. That would have cast more suspicion.”

  That didn’t make Jack feel any better. He’d been holding out hope that something Miranda said could have shed light on his doubt and cleared it up. But all she’d done was deny it, which wasn’t conclusive either way.

  “I think you were right the other day,” Jack said. “About the gray areas. I think that’s where I’m going to find the truth.”

  Jen’s phone rang. She looked at the face. “The office. I called out today. They’ve been calling me nonstop for either work stuff or gossip.”

  Jack let her conversation fade into the background. Tried to wipe the hurt look on Miranda’s face from his mind. But like trying to clean oil with water, it refused to disappear.

  “Really.” The heaviness of Jen’s word pulled Jack’s focus into the present. “How did you hear that?”

  After sounds of understanding and a little more small talk, Jen disconnected.

  When she stayed oddly silent, Jack asked, “What was that about?”

  “Nothing.” She turned Joshua to face her and made googly eyes at him until he smiled. “Just more gossip.”

  “What did they say?”

  “It’s not important. You did the best thing you could do, Jack.”

  “Jen.”

  She cut an annoyed look at him, then relented. “Someone heard she lost her investor. I don’t know what that means. Dad said the veterans’ project was almost done.”

  Jack’s stomach dropped. He squeezed his eyes closed and muttered, “Fuck me.”

  “Uncle Jack—” Jacob said.

  “I know, I know.” He covered his eyes and groaned. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was like the meeting of a helicopter and a surface-to-air missile, a fiery, spinning clusterfuck. He looked at Jen. “Where’d they hear it?”

  “Someone at her Warrior Homes project knows someone at Pinnacle.”

  “Effing construction workers. Worse than a bunch of high school girls.”

  His phone dinged with an incoming email from Klein’s assistant, with files attached.

  Jack pushed to his feet and retreated into the house. He had work to do. Work more meaningful than anything he’d done in a long time.

  29

  Miranda eked out the last two feet of welding wire along the connection of one storage container to another, creating a double-wide space of sixteen feet the length of the forty-five-foot metal box.

  This would make a nice open living space for someone. A veteran who’d given up his nice, normal, comfortable life to go off and fight in a war that ultimately allowed Miranda and every other American to live their own best life.

  She released her torch and pushed back her face shield, trying to feel good about that. But it was hard to feel good about anything right now.

  “Where have you been staying?”

  The voice made her startle. She swiveled toward Marty with a scowl. “Don’t do that. You scared me.”

  “Then we’re even. How do you think I feel when you don’t come home for two days after your world implodes?”

  She exhaled and rolled her eyes. “I texted you.”

  “Fuck texts. That’s insensitive, and you know it.”

  “Don’t push me, Marty. I’m doing the best I can right now.” She pulled off her helmet. “I’ve been at a hotel, okay? Figured I could use some of my savings on a nice place to stay since I won’t be starting that business anytime soon.”

  “This is bullshit.”

  “You’re right, it’s all bullshit. The way Alex turned on me. The way Jack accused me. The way Gypsy ambushed me—with a baby, for Christ’s sake. So, yeah, I agree, it’s fucking bullshit. Excuse me for needing a safe space where no one was going to attack me again.”

  “You’re burying your head.”

  “I’m entitled to a few days of fucking peace.”

  “Avoiding it isn’t going to make anything go away.”

  “I know that.” Screaming at the top of her lungs felt cathartic, even if she was shooting the messenger. “Don’t you think I know that? Maybe I just want to get my head on straight before I face it all again. Sue me.”

  Marty pushed his hands into the front pockets of his cargo shorts, but his determined expression remained.

  She laid her torch down and took a seat at the open container door. “Can’t do anything else here now anyway. May as well go home and work on those consignment gates people have been after me to finish up.”

  That would be her life for a while—piecework. Financially, she’d be fine. Her living expenses were minimal. She didn’t want or need much. Maybe the whole grand plan of having her own business wasn’t that great an idea at all.

  Marty sat beside her. “It was the right thing, calling Roman.”

  “I know. That’s why I did it. Can we not talk about this?” It h
urt. It all hurt to think about, let alone talk about.

  He sighed, the sound heavy and resigned. “Gotta talk about it sometime, Miranda. Ain’t gonna be no good time.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. It happened. It’s over. I’ll move on like I always do.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Miranda didn’t take the bait.

  “Have you even stopped to consider your part in all this?” Marty asked.

  Somehow, she’d known this was coming. “You mean the part about how I listened to you and let my guard down? Let Jack in? Let Gypsy in? Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have. Shitty advice, Marty.”

  “I’m talking about how little you told Jack about yourself,” Marty said. “How secretive you are. You hide, you evade, you tell half-truths, then, when you need someone to know you, to judge you by your character, all they have to work with is a paper-thin façade. Condemning Jack for not believing in you is wrong, Miranda. You didn’t give the boy any other choice.”

  That shut her up. She tried and failed to come up with a retort—three times.

  “You had him out of your life before he ever stepped in. Now you’ve got, what? Your cold metal containers and all your secrets. Sure, you’re safe. No one to attack you. But no one to love you either.”

  A knife twisted in her gut.

  Marty made a careless gesture toward her. “And that shit you pulled with Gypsy is just petty. This isn’t the woman I raised. The woman I know. Get your head out of your ass, Miranda. Self-pity doesn’t suit you. Doesn’t suit you at all.”

  She was still sulking from the verbal whipping as he walked to his truck parked on the street.

  “Great pep talk,” she yelled after him. “Let’s do it again soon.”

  “You are the hardest-headed female I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s sayin’ something, huh?”

  At the driver’s door, he paused and looked at her over the roof with a bewildered shake of his head. “You’re a pain in my ass lately, girl. Get your head on right and come home. Can’t take another night of Honey Badger’s nerves.” He dropped behind the wheel with “She’s like a goddamned mosquito, buzzin’ in my ear.”

  30

  Jack took a deep breath of the thin, icy Denver air and raised his hand to knock. Roman Steele’s front door was a gorgeous, hand-carved slab of wood. The home itself was a modern marvel of steel, glass, and aged wood, situated on a hillside with a view of the Rockies. Easily worth millions.

  The door opened to Roman’s curious stare. He wore old jeans, a faded T-shirt, and bare feet, yet somehow still had a presence that said he was always in charge. “Jack. I was surprised to get your call.”

  “Thanks for seeing me.”

  Roman stepped aside. “Come in.”

  As soon as Roman closed the door behind him, Jack couldn’t help but ask his most pressing question. “Aren’t your feet freezing?”

  Roman grinned. “Heated floors.”

  “Ah.”

  The foyer was large, with stone floors and high ceilings. Roman wandered into the living room, where glass, glass, and more glass framed the extraordinary view. Jack followed, appreciating the floating stairwell off to the side, the deck wrapping the house beyond the living room, the high ceilings.

  “This is stunning,” he said. “Did you have it built?”

  “I did.” He sank into the corner of one leather sofa and gestured at large to the living room. “Have a seat.”

  Jack took a seat on the lounge chair closest to Roman, perched himself on the edge, and rested his forearms on his knees. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I’ll get right to the point.” Jack took a deep breath. “I screwed up.”

  “How?”

  “In more ways than I can name, but the only way that matters to you is that I was wrong about Miranda Wright. She was in no way involved with the thefts that occurred at Pinnacle.”

  “She said you suspended her. That there’s an investigation.”

  He exhaled. “And I sincerely regret that. It was the wrong thing to do. I took the information given to me to make that decision instead of doing the research myself. I was trying to make a statement to the rest of the employees, hoping to keep the company secure. In doing so, I judged Miranda too quickly and too harshly.”

  Roman had a still, intense presence. Jack could see him staying cool in any situation. “How do you know you were wrong?”

  “The woman I got to know wasn’t a woman who would steal from the hand that feeds her. So I dug deeper, and when none of her bank records showed any influx of cash, I confronted Alex. The first time, he wouldn’t see me, but I sent him an offer of a reduced sentence if he talked to me. As soon as he sat down across from me, I knew I’d been wrong. He had that smug, pulled-one-over-on-you look on his face, and the first words out of his mouth were ‘How does it feel to have something you want taken away?’ He and I have a long, conflicted relationship.”

  “He admitted to it, then?”

  “Sure did. Matched Miranda’s story exactly. But he’d been planning something from the minute I stepped foot in Nashville. Only decided to use Miranda when he found out she and I were seeing each other.”

  Roman rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa and his temple against his hand. “Guess it worked.”

  “Sure as shit did. We’ve never liked each other, but he and Miranda were close. I was surprised he would throw her under the bus.”

  “People do the damnedest things,” Roman said. “Bet Miranda’s glad this shadow has lifted.”

  “She doesn’t know yet. I’m going straight there when I get back to Tennessee. But I wanted to speak with you because I heard you pulled your funding for Miranda’s company.”

  “Miranda called me herself to tell me what she’d been accused of. We agreed that, given my business of catching the bad guys, investing in someone who was under suspicion of felony theft wouldn’t be a sound business decision.”

  That surprised Jack. “Miranda called you?”

  “She did. She was very professional about it, but I could hear the stress in her voice. I’m sure she’ll be relieved to hear you uncovered the real issue.”

  Jack huffed a laugh. “I think she’ll be livid. But, yes, in the end, she’ll be relieved.”

  “You two had a good thing going,” Roman said. “I could see the energy and connection between you when I toured the development.”

  “Had being the operative word.” He shook his head. “Biggest mistake of my life, not trusting my gut where she was concerned.”

  “Reminds me of a woman I made the mistake of letting go a few years back. Much like you, I was trying to do right by family and ended up losing her. Biggest loss of my life. I hope you and Miranda figure it out and find a way to be together.”

  “Thank you. I wanted to come and tell you in person that I wronged Miranda, that she’s a dedicated, talented, honest woman, and that your money, if you decide to invest in her, will be safe. After the dust clears from Pinnacle’s financial issues and I’m liquid again, I’d like to invest as well, though I don’t think she’ll even talk to me, let alone take my money.”

  Roman stood, walked over to a desk, and returned with a packet of papers. “When you grovel, give her this. She may reconsider.”

  Jack huffed a laugh at the grovel comment, took the papers, and found a check made out to Miranda for half a million dollars attached to a contract.

  “Have her sign the contract and send it back,” Roman said. “Then have her cash that check and start doing more of what she’s doing at Warrior Homes. This time for a profit.”

  Jack’s spirits lifted. “Wow, this is amazing.” He stood and offered his hand to Roman. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”

  Roman took Jack’s hand with a smile and a nod. “Go get your girl back.”

  31

  Miranda had stayed away one more night to do as Marty had suggested, get her head right before she faced Gypsy again. Now, she to
ok a deep breath and stepped into her trailer.

  Gypsy looked up from her laptop at the kitchen table. Her gaze was hopeful but reserved. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Miranda closed the door and tossed her duffel on the sofa where Gypsy had folded all the sheets and blankets and piled them in a corner. “Bet you liked having your own space for a few days.”

  “Actually, I hated it.” She closed the lid of the laptop and rested her chin in her hand.

  Miranda pulled out a chair and sat across from her sister. “Gypsy, I was so angry that day.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “I’d just lost my job, my guy, and been accused of stealing all at the same time.”

  Her gaze was sympathetic. “I know.”

  “But I really should have held my shit together better than I did.”

  “You said some pretty hurtful things,” Gypsy said.

  “I did. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Having the pregnancy sprung on me like that, having you lie about it, it was one hell of a trigger. I try so hard to leave the past in the past that when it clashes with the present, I don’t handle it well.”

  “I didn’t know Mom lied about you to the men she was dating. That’s awful. I can’t imagine how unwanted you must have felt.” She took a breath and stared at her computer a moment before meeting Miranda’s gaze again. “I want this baby. It took me a few days to adjust to the idea, but when I did, I knew I wanted him or her. But I also know, from remembering what you went through trying to raise Dylan and me, that it would be hell trying to do it alone. I knew I needed your help, but I also wanted to share the joy of it with you. I was really just trying to close the distance between us before I told you. I hope you can eventually love this baby the way I already do.”