“It’s doable,” Banshee said. “In the short term, we can offer them more than what they’re paid at Reinhart Construction, whether they wanna walk is another thing. We can deal with the Union, reassure them it will not affect anything for them with their benefits and shit. I know a guy.”
“I’ll talk to the crew. I don’t think that will be a problem,” King said.
Banshee nodded. “Getting a company set up for ourselves to maintain their employment after this job might take a while, Reinhart signed on to the job for six months. He has nothing else on at the moment. He’s put everything into this job.”
“Ransom can find someone you can work with to take on these guys if you don’t want to have your own company,” Cassie added.
“I kinda like the idea of having a construction business,” King mused. He looked at Banshee, who raised his head.
“It’s good money,” Banshee agreed. “Get a decent crew in, good rep for the work they do, and they’ll be busy enough to bring in a good profit. I can run the numbers with Cass, but we’ve got options. It all depends on getting the workers to walk. Paying them a higher rate for the rest of the six months will go a long way to convince them. We have that, if it’s what you want to do, Prez.”
They discussed more of the financial aspects and then Cassie went over what they needed to do to break the contract. She told us if the workers quit on him, he wouldn’t be able to complete the contract and it would be him who voided it, not us.
“What if he finds other guys to be on his crew?” I asked.
“He won’t,” King said. “He’s going to be persona non grata before the week is out.”
After more discussions, Banshee and Cassie left to work things out. Cassie wanted to draw up new contracts for the workers once they agreed to leave Reinhart.
“So,” King said, pouring himself more coffee from the pot Casper brought in earlier. He’d already offered one to Warren and me, but we both declined. My stomach was still delicate, and the bitter coffee wouldn’t sit right. “These pictures, how do we want to get them out there?”
“Not through the police,” War said, checking his phone one last time, before shoving it into his jeans pocket. “We don’t want an investigation starting via us.”
“We also need to be careful about the girl’s identities,” I added. It was the one thing I was adamant about. I knew well how horrific it was to go through this, but to have a picture of it out there, that would be like it happening all over again. Between Warren, Hudson, and Kansas, they identified all six women in the photographs. They all went to school with us.
“I agree, but it’s not enough just putting these pictures out there. If some of them speak up, then it’s more damning for him. I also don’t want you dragged into any police investigation,” my dad looked at me. “He’s going to figure out it’s us doing this to him, but I don’t want it coming back on us. We have to be smart about how we play it.”
“I know someone who could help,” Warren said. “A journalist, she’s discrete and she’s good, highly thought of. She’s not a reporter for a paper or news station, she’s freelance, but she has a lot of reach and big connections, she sometimes gets picked up nationally. We can feed this to her, and she can do the leg work and write it up.”
“She’ll be careful with the women?” I asked. I had no idea how my brother knew a journalist but if she could help, it didn’t matter.
He nodded. “Like I said, she’s discrete, both in terms of keeping the club out of it and being sensitive about what she’s writing. This is something she will want to be involved in.”
Warren left to call her, leaving me alone with King. The silence stretched out, King looking through the window, me staring at the floor. I was about to get up and leave when he spoke.
“If I had known,” he said.
“I know, everyone has said the same thing,” I told him, looking up to see him staring at me. His face was hard and stoic as normal, but there was something in his eyes, guilt, sadness. No father liked to hear this happened to his daughter. “I’m okay. It could have been worse,” I added. “At least I’m not in any of those pictures.”
King nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, so I let him off the hook.
“Am I good to come down to the site with you while you speak to the workers? I’d like to see what you’re building down there?”
“I’ll have the foreperson come up here to see me,” he said, getting to his feet and coming around the desk, motioning with his hands for me to get up too, not wanting me to be there when he spoke to the construction crew. “But I can get someone to take you down, look around.”
He walked me out of the office. I was about to tell him I could go myself as Hudson came down the stairs in front of us. His hair was wet, like he’d just got out of the shower, and he looked about as tired as I felt. He was only wearing a short sleeve t-shirt under his cut, an old Lynyrd Skynyrd band T half tucked into his jeans. His usual unlaced boots adorned his feet. I was about to duck passed him, still not sure what to say to him when King stopped us.
“Hustle, Waverley wants to go see the construction, take her down there.”
“No, I don’t need-”
“What? I’m about to-”
We both spoke at the same time.
“Don’t care,” King gave us both a hard look. “Take her.” And then he walked away.
I rubbed my lips together as he crossed his arms over his chest. I was about to tell him he didn’t have to when he heaved out a heavy breath and let his arms drop.
