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.