Redstone Ever After Read online

  Their relationship was so complicated, their lives so intertwined, and yet separate. Josh had become good friends with Eric, and his own beloved Elizabeth had been like the sister Tess had never had, and each knew the other still grieved, in their way. They rarely spoke of it anymore, but it was still there, and always would be.

  All it was, Tess told herself, all it would ever be, was a longtime employee missing a kind, generous boss who had become a friend. She couldn’t afford to mess up everything by getting tangled up in emotions she had no business feeling, not about this man.

  She got up and opened the cockpit door. “Coffee’s fresh, I just put it on,” she called out as she stepped back into the cabin.

  She stopped dead as two men spun around to face her. Two complete strangers.

  One of them smiled, a smile she didn’t like at all.

  “Well, well, now isn’t this nice?” he said, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl.

  No, Tess thought. It wasn’t nice at all. Because they weren’t just strangers. They were also armed.

  She knew instantly, deep in her gut, that this was it, that it had finally happened. Everyone at Redstone’s worst nightmare had finally come true.

  They’d come for Josh.

  Chapter 2

  Josh was having trouble focusing on Odell’s pitch. They had reached the man’s expensive German sedan, looking a bit odd parked at the backcountry trailhead, and would soon be headed back toward the airport.

  They threw their packs and gear in the trunk. Josh glanced at a young couple setting out on the trail they’d just come back on, then got into the front. He waited, doubting Odell had given up yet. His answer, sadly, was already a given; there was no way he could help the man. So his mind kept wandering. And as it had of late, perhaps reminded by the sight of that happy couple, it kept going down that path he tried to avoid.

  He’d once joked that when St. John fell in love, he’d know the world was coming to an end. And apparently he should be preparing, because it had happened. In the most unlikely of ways, but with the most likely, and probably the only woman in the world who thoroughly understood the man who had been a mysterious legend at Redstone for years.

  He had no doubts, as he had none about all the other couples Redstone had brought together, that St. John and his Jessa would make it. There was something about the way his right-hand man looked at her, a trust he never thought he’d see in his wary friend’s eyes, that told him this was it, the real thing.

  The water, he thought, thinking of the joke that had become a standard line among them. Maybe it really was the Redstone water.

  It had become such a part of the Redstone lore that it had grown; the word was now you didn’t even have to drink it, walking through the fine spray from the waterfall in the Redstone Headquarters was enough.

  Rider, he thought. It had all started then, with Noah Rider and Paige. They’d been the first, and the rest had gone down like a string of dominoes, each one seeming, in retrospect, inevitable. As, perhaps, it was. Tess had always said that when you brought together the best—people with the Redstone spirit and way of looking at things—they already had so much in common it was bound to happen.

  He had come to think she was right, as usual. He was just having trouble with how it was making him feel.

  “I know you saw all this coming,” Odell was saying as they sat there in the vehicle, the man making no move to turn the key yet.

  For a moment he thought Odell had somehow, bizarrely, read his thoughts. Then he realized he was still on his pitch, and this was his compliment, meant to pump up his ego and make him more amenable.

  But Josh Redstone never let his ego get involved in his business. Not that he wasn’t certain of himself, he was, but he didn’t live on the assumption he was better than anyone else. It mostly turned out he was, but he’d made just enough mistakes about people to keep him humble. So far, the damage done had been minimal or reparable, and he had every intention of keeping it that way.

  “I should have listened to you,” Odell was saying. “I never should have taken that money, but I didn’t see any other way.”

  “Bankruptcy. Restructuring.”

  “I couldn’t do that. Diane’s grandfather built this company. I couldn’t be the one to let it fail.”

  And there was the difference, Josh thought. Odell had let his ego into it, and it had spelled disaster.

  “And now Carter is circling.”

  Josh registered the name. Carter Tool had low bid a Redstone project once but he had turned them down and gone with General instead. That was back when it had been run by Brad’s feisty, eighty-three-year-old grandfather-in-law, and had been the best around. He just didn’t care for the way Carl Carter did business.

  “They know we’re ripe for plucking, and they’ve got the in with the local politicians, they’re counting on taking us over to fatten their bottom line.”

  It was time to put an end to this, before the man started begging. Josh was tough, but not so tough he enjoyed saying no to a man who was groveling.

  “I wish I could help, Brad. I truly do. But I can’t attach Redstone in any way to a company in the position you’re in. They’ve been looking for a way into Redstone for a long time now, and I can’t open even one small door for them.”

  “But you’d just be buying some land,” Odell protested.

  “And whose name is it in? Yours or the company’s?”

  “Well, the company, but—”

  Josh held up a hand. “That’s all they’d need. The Redstone name on any transaction with a company they’ve taken over. That’s how they do it.”

  “They haven’t taken over yet.”

  “Brad,” Josh said sadly, “they took over the day you cashed their check.”

  “I had no choice,” the man said dully, clearly realizing now that Josh meant what he said.

  That’s what they wanted you to think.

  Josh didn’t say it aloud. Just as he didn’t let his ego get in his way, he also didn’t believe in kicking a man when he was down.

  “I wish I could help. If you’d come to me before…”

  He let his words trail off, seeing no point in rubbing salt in the wound. Because if Brad had come to him then, he would have done what he could to prop up the ailing manufacturer who had supplied several of the parts used in Redstone engines.

  Odell sighed, heavily. He took out his cell phone, checked for a signal, sent a quick text message. And then, finally, he started the car and they headed down to the flats. In silence.

  The silence held for the entire ninety-minute drive down the narrow mountain road. Josh felt regret, but turned his mind to other things. Finally, they reached the turnoff to the small airport. Josh immediately spotted the Hawk V, ready and waiting, the trademark red-and-gray paint job gleaming quietly in the sun. It never failed to give him a kick of pride to see it, this latest in the line, that was breaking efficiency records all over the country, without sacrificing speed or comfort.

  Bless you, Ian, he thought in silent tribute to the man whose lightweight and impossibly strong composite had made it possible. Ian’s explanation of the nanotechnology involved—which included a reference to Buckminster Fuller—had made his eyes glaze, but seeing the result made his heart race.

  He got out of the car, and grabbed his pack from the trunk. Then he turned to look at Odell, who hadn’t even gotten out of the driver’s seat. He sat, staring at the Hawk V, an odd expression on his face. Regret, sadness and something else Josh couldn’t put a name to.

  “I’m sorry, Brad,” Josh said softly. “I mean that.”

  “I know you do,” the dejected man said.

  There was nothing more to say, really, so Josh left it at that. And after a moment of awkward silence, Odell drove away, his cell phone already in his hand again.

  Josh slung the small pack—he made do with very little for such a short trek—over one shoulder, and rubbed at the back of his neck. For the f
irst time in a long time, he was simply, purely tired, and it had nothing to do with the four-hour tramp into the backcountry and back out again. This was a mental weariness he’d never felt before, the exhaustion of spending far too much time dodging the kind of figurative bullet that had taken General Machine down, and far too little doing what he loved, guiding Redstone. Thanks to diversification, determination and, he admitted, his own stubbornly independent streak, Redstone was strong and solid. The endless work and sweat and drive of the Redstone family had made it what it was around the world, and was keeping it that way. But at a price.

  He strode across the tarmac toward the waiting plane, his spirits picking up a bit. Tess would cheer him up. Her lovely face would light up, as it always did, at the sight of him, giving him the lift that could only come from someone you liked and respected being so glad to see you.

  Ego definitely involved there, he thought with an inward grin.

  The backpack was sufficiently grubby that he paused to toss it in the cargo hold of the Hawk before he started up the steps that were down and waiting. He should have called the moment they were in the car, he thought. Then Tess could have had it warmed up and ready to go. But it hadn’t seemed right to show that his focus was on getting back to his own business when he was listening to the death knell of someone else’s.

  He closed the hatch to the cargo hold, knowing Tess would hear the sound and know he was there. In fact, he half expected to hear the jet fire up before he reached the stairs, and when it didn’t, figured she must be in the middle of something else. Idle time was a rarity with Tess; about the only time she ever sat still was to read.

  He could afford, he thought, to take the controls for the angel flight. Time enough to get to work when they were back in Southern California. That was encouragement enough to have him trotting up the steps into the cabin, already anticipating the adrenaline surge as they lifted off. That was one thing that never failed him, the joy he felt at the controls of a responsive, quick, well-built airplane.

  At the top of the steps, as he stepped into the plane, he called out for Tess.

  “Hey, Machado, you goofing off? Better watch it, I hear your boss is on his way back.”

  He frequently teased her with that, since it was so far from the truth at any given moment. Not to mention he never felt like he was her boss, anyway. She wasn’t his employee, she was Tess.

  Three things happened the moment he put a booted foot down in the main cabin.

  He saw two men, strangers, one on each side of the doorway, both of them with their right hands beneath lightweight jackets. And he saw Tess across the cabin, standing facing the doorway, her arms crossed, her slender fingers gripping her elbows as if to hold herself together. Her expression was tight, her usually golden complexion pale.

  Something was very wrong.

  The third thing was the explanation he dreaded, but already half expected, even in the split second he’d had to process what was happening.

  “Hello, Michael,” Tess said, her voice as tight as her expression.

  Michael.

  His middle name. Used by no one, not even him. Not because he hated it, not because there was no need, since there was little likelihood of him being confused with another Joshua Redstone, if there even was one. But unused because it was reserved for a specific situation, by order of John Draven, the legendary head of the equally legendary Redstone Security team.

  Reserved for one single instance that Josh had reluctantly had to admit to his sternly fatalistic security chief was a real possibility.

  Reserved as warning, as explanation, as trigger.

  Reserved for a hostage situation.

  And Tess had just let him know the grim truth. He was the hostage.

  It had finally happened.

  Chapter 3

  For a moment, Tess didn’t dare breathe. Let alone speak. And not because they’d threatened her if she gave them away. She didn’t even think about that. She knew Josh would get the message of her use of his middle name. But he had no way of knowing what else she’d learned in the few minutes she’d had with these thugs before he’d gotten here.

  It was only chance, good fortune, that the teasing greeting he so often tossed out to her played right into that knowledge and the ignorance she’d discovered. As did his scruffy, unkempt appearance after his mountain trek, just as she’d hoped.

  She watched his steady gray eyes as he looked at the two men. She could almost feel his agile brain firing, assessing, and knew he was calculating the possibility of success if he put a halt to this right now. But Josh was no fool, she knew he had to realize they were armed.

  The two men, on the other hand, seemed incredibly slow on the uptake, simply staring at the newcomer.

  “These guys just got here,” she said, knowing some explanation was called for if they were to pull this off. She’d had a few minutes to think, to plan, to come up with a story. “They’re guards. There have been some threats.”

  She saw his eyes narrow slightly, and tried to think how to let him know what the situation truly was.

  “It’s serious. They’re armed. I don’t know if there’s going to be time for you to make that repair, Michael,” she added, trying to keep her voice even as she repeated the code name. “Mr. Redstone is due back any minute.”

  The pause before he spoke was so slight Tess doubted anyone but herself would really notice. “Running late, is he?”

  Tess breathed again as he picked up her clue. “You know how he is.”

  “Yes,” Josh said. “I do.”

  One of the armed men snorted. “Figures. Big shots always think nobody’s time matters but theirs.”

  “Shut up,” the other man snapped, apparently realizing it wasn’t an appropriate reaction if they were actually here to protect Josh. The fact that he seemed willing to go along with the fiction she’d presented gave her hope; maybe Josh could actually turn around and walk right out of here, and they wouldn’t know they actually had had, and lost, their quarry.

  It was a possibility she’d latched on to the moment she’d realized there was a good chance they wouldn’t recognize him, not fresh out of the woods, unshaven and in worn clothes and a pair of hiking boots that had seen many miles. The moment she’d realized they hadn’t even recognized Josh in the single photograph that was here in the main cabin, a shot of Josh and herself with the manager of the small airport where this very Hawk V had first strutted her stuff.

  When they’d noticed the picture, they had assumed the perfectly groomed man in the suit, not the man casually dressed in a beyond battered bomber jacket and cowboy boots, was the head of the vaunted Redstone empire. And while there was a slight resemblance in height and leanness, Tess knew the mistake was only possible because no static image could ever capture the dynamic power and force that hid behind the laid-back personality of the real Joshua Redstone.

  They, or whoever had hired them, hadn’t done their homework, or were incapable of making the jump from their perceptions to reality. That gave her another clue as to the kind of men these were. Sloppy. Or stupid. And that could be both helpful and dangerous.

  The armed man who had belatedly taken charge turned back to look at Josh. “You some kind of mechanic?”

  “Something like that,” Josh said, shifting his gaze. There was, Tess noticed, barely a trace of his usual easy drawl. It had been there when he’d called out his greeting, but she hoped the men would think he was just imitating her boss, the man his very words had indicated wasn’t here yet.

  “What’s wrong with this fancy plane?”

  Again there was the barest of hesitations, and Tess knew Josh was thinking fast. “Problem with the electrical system,” he said.

  Perfect, she thought. That would keep them on the ground. Too many lethal possibilities in the air.

  “Guess you have to go get your tools?” she suggested.

  Go. Get clear, get safe.

  The words echoed in her mind like some fierce chant,
as if she could will him to do it by sheer silent force of will.

  “I don’t think so,” Josh said slowly. “Now that I’m here, I’m not about to leave.”

  She heard his subtext as clearly as if he’d spoken it; no way would Josh leave one of his own in jeopardy to save his own skin. Tess smothered a sigh; it had been worth a try, even though she’d known he wouldn’t take the chance for escape, not if it meant leaving her here. Not even to call in the cavalry.

  No more than she would leave him to save herself.

  Not that she was any more special to him than anyone from Redstone. Well, maybe a little more, she conceded at the gentle rebuke in his eyes at her attempt.

  “There are tools here on the plane,” he said. “Might as well use them.”

  Did he mean the weapons? Tess wondered.

  “Just do it fast,” one of the men, the tall, almost cadaverous one in the brown shirt snapped.

  Josh didn’t even flinch. “This plane’s got miles of wiring. It’s going to take a while to isolate the problem.”

  “Mr. Redstone’s not going to like that,” Tess said, trying to imagine what the response would be for an employee a little afraid of a nasty boss.

  “Tough,” Josh said, with a one-shouldered shrug. “This plane doesn’t leave until I clear it.”

  The brown shirt snorted, clearly amused by the thought of a mere mechanic ordering around Josh Redstone. Tess kept her eyes on Josh, hoping he’d see what she saw, something to be used.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t start until he’s here, and explain to him. You know how he is.”

  “Afraid he’ll take it out on you, honey?” the smaller of the armed men said, with a shockingly genuine-sounding note of commiseration in his voice. He wore an unintentionally colored shirt; it appeared to have originally been white, with a familiar environmental slogan on the front, but it now had the pinkish cast of something whitewashed with something new and red.

  Pinky, she thought. That’s the kind of nickname he deserved. Pinky and Brown Shirt, perfect for the morons they were.