In His Sights

When he’d finished with the photo gear, he turned to the rest of the things he’d packed. He tossed the jeans in a dresser drawer along with a couple of pullover sweaters and several shirts. He had a feeling he would be glad he’d taken Josh’s advice and put in some heavy socks. The days were still warm, but the brisk scent of winter was already in the evening air up here in the Northwest, although the actual turn of the season was still a couple of weeks away.

The sound of singing from downstairs brought him back to his original thought about his luck. What else would you call it when you stumbled into the perfect setup—a room for rent by the family of the head of the very Redstone department he’d been sent to investigate?

When the man at the small grocery had mentioned that the Crawfords were looking for a tenant, it had seemed so lucky that he’d been suspicious at first, until he realized that in a town with a year-round population of less than two thousand, it was likely everybody really did know everybody else’s business.

There didn’t seem to be much buzz about anything going on at Redstone, though. He’d felt his way very carefully, saying only that he’d seen the place while out exploring the countryside. The only reaction he’d gotten was one of open, cheerful enthusiasm for the presence of Redstone. It had apparently done wonders for the tax base of the tiny town, thanks to some bargaining Joshua Redstone had done with the county, making sure a large portion of the taxes they would pay would go directly to Summer Harbor.

But now someone was stealing from the benefactor. And although to some the crimes might seem petty when weighed against the vastness of the Redstone empire, Josh was not one to let things like this slide or consider them beneath his attention. Especially when what was being stolen was one of Redstone inventor Ian Gamble’s latest inventions. The new self-regulating, automatic insulin pump functioned like a normal pancreas because it could sense when the body needed insulin and automatically administer it. It could not only save thousands of lives, but make thousands more easier.

Of course, that made it even more valuable to the thieves.

Rand finished unpacking the last of his clothes and stood for a moment, contemplating whether he was going to need the heavy parka he’d just hung up in the closet. He decided against it for now, figuring he’d get the feel of the temperature first. He’d just been in Canada last week, so perhaps he was still acclimated somewhat to the cooler clime.

Sure he’d left his small .38 revolver securely locked in the case for now, he was done. He dug his cell phone out of the side pocket of the duffle that had held everything he’d brought, including his laptop. He hit the button that had been programmed to dial Redstone Security at their California headquarters.

“Draven.”

“It’s Rand,” he said to his boss, head of Redstone security. “I’m in place.”

“Good.”

Man of very few words, his boss. “You’ll never guess where.”

“No, I won’t.”

Rand sighed; John Draven seemed edgier than usual today, which was saying something.

“Crawford’s grandparent’s.”

There was a pause, and Rand thought with some satisfaction that for once he’d surprised the unflappable Draven.

“They were renting out a room,” he added, feeling he should.

“Convenient,” was all Draven said.

“Yeah, I wondered about that, especially finding out about it like I did. But the town’s so small, everybody knows everything.”

“Different.”

“Very,” Rand agreed.

“Your cover going to work?”

Rand had been offered a cover inside the Redstone facility here, but had decided it might work better if he was on the outside. Besides, there was a new security guy on board at this plant, Brian Fisher, a kid Josh himself had hired. He had been trying to investigate the thefts, and Josh didn’t want the twenty-two-year-old’s confidence crushed. So Rand had taken out the camera gear that had sat unused for too long and headed for the rural Northwest undercover.

“I think so,” he said. “Josh is right, it’s beautiful up here. It’s the kind of place that draws photographers like flies.”

“So does dead meat,” Draven said dryly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rand retorted, long used to the man’s off center sense of humor. “I’d better get started if I’m going to find out what’s making those insulin pumps magically disappear between the time the trucks are loaded and delivery is made, with no sign of break-ins.”

“I don’t believe in magic.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

Rand knew what John Draven did believe in. He’d asked him once. The answer had been Josh Redstone, the randomness of life and the stopping power of a .45.

“Report when you have something to say,” Draven said.

“As usual,” Rand said, smothering a wry grin. Draven was nothing if not a master of brevity.

He understood, though. It had been a rough couple of years for Redstone when it came to employees. And that was unusual enough that Josh was a little touchy on the subject. He chose his people carefully, then gave them free rein to do what they did best, and it very rarely backfired on him.

But this bad stretch had begun with Bill Talbert, the employee Draven had caught feathering his own nest at the expense of guests at one of the Redstone resorts. Then Phil Cooper, found only in death to have been slime to his wife and son if not to Redstone itself. And just a few months ago, corporate secrets from Ian Gamble’s research being sold to a competitor by someone inside. Considering the size of Redstone, it wasn’t all that much, but Josh tended to take such betrayals personally.

And he wasn’t the only one—everybody at Redstone circled the wagons when someone tried to damage the place they all loved so much. Josh was the kind of man who inspired a loyalty that couldn’t be bought, and every last one of the security team was dedicated to keeping things just the way he liked them: honest, clean and profitable.

Josh had made liars of many who insisted the three couldn’t exist together in the business world. Rand wasn’t about to let that change, not even out here in one of the smaller Redstone outposts. He’d find out who the thief was, and they’d come face-to-face with the other Redstone inexorable—justice.

As she did almost every morning she went to work, Kate paused after she turned off the road and into the driveway of Redstone Northwest. It seemed a small miracle, this place. Joshua Redstone had insisted a manufacturing plant could be built without destroying the countryside, and he’d proved it here.

Redstone Northwest looked more like an exclusive hunting lodge than a factory. Each building was clad in siding milled from the trees they’d had to clear. The entrance drive curved through big trees that had been intentionally left standing to mask the actual size of the building. It made bringing bigger supply trucks in and out a challenge, but when that point had been brought up to Josh he had merely nodded and said if the driver couldn’t do it, he shouldn’t be driving for Redstone, and if he wouldn’t do it, he didn’t understand Redstone.

When she’d been interviewed for this job by the great Josh Redstone himself—in a process that had seemed more like a casual conversation than a job interview—he’d concluded their meeting by asking if she had any questions. The one that was obvious to her slipped out before she could stop it.

“Why here?” she had asked. “Why did you build a Redstone facility here, in tiny Summer Harbor?” She loved the little town she’d recently moved back to, but still wondered why a company the size of Redstone had located here.

“You don’t like it being here?” the lanky, gray-eyed man had asked, not in a challenging tone but in the way of someone genuinely interested.

“No, no,” she’d said quickly. “I’m happy you decided to build here. It’s been great, done wonders for the town. I’m just curious. We’re sort of at the crossroads of nowhere and can’t get there from here.”

Josh had laughed, and Kate had found herself smiling at the sound of it. She’d done a little research before she’d applied for the job, and had read that the man didn’t laugh often anymore. Rumor had it that the death of his wife a few years ago had taken the laughter right out of him. That she’d managed to make him do it pleased her much more than she would have thought, given she’d only just met the man.

“Perhaps for just that reason,” he said.

“Whatever your reason, I’m glad,” she told him. “And I would love to be part of it.”

He had gestured at her rеsumе, on the table in front of him. In what she had since come to learn was typical Josh Redstone fashion, he had chosen to conduct interviews outside. She had arrived for this interview to find one of the richest men in the world seated at an ordinary card table under a large madrone tree in front of the building that was still being finished.

“You’re a bit overqualified,” he’d said.

She hadn’t argued that, she knew it was true and wouldn’t insult his intelligence by denying it.

“But I’m a lot overqualified for any other job in town,” she had said. “And I’m staying here, no matter what, so I’d like the most challenging job I can get.”

Josh Redstone had studied her for a long, silent moment. So long that she’d wondered if she should have been so blunt. Finally he’d stood up and held out a hand to her.

“Welcome to Redstone, Ms. Crawford.”