Page 1 of River Legacy
Prologue
The explosive device fit in his jacket pocket securely as he walked toward the hangar where he would find the Gulfstream G550 waiting. Still, he unconsciously walked more carefully knowing it was in his pocket. Would hate to trip and fall.
Not that it would be a huge explosion. The nice thing about an airplane, even an expensive private jet owned by one of the richest men in the country, was that it didn’t take much to bring the bird down. It was all about knowing where to place the bomb—and when to detonate it.
Inside the hangar, he quickly secured the bomb in place. He’d helped work on this particular jet before, since along with his side job, he was one damned good airplane mechanic as well as a pilot. Not that his boss seemed to appreciate the fact. Hell, he’d wanted to kill him the moment he met the man.
When he finished, he set the timer on his phone. All it would take was pushing the button after the plane was airborne and over an isolated part of Montana on the return flight.
He’d already located where outside of Billingswould be the best spot for the plane to explode. There was a roadless mountainous area directly to the southeast. It would be hard for the FAA investigators to reach it and recover any evidence. No need for any rescue operations. No one would survive the blast, let alone the crash.
The dangerous part was that he would be onboard the plane with the bomb from Dallas to Billings. But as long as he didn’t push the button, he told himself, he’d be fine.
No one wanted Forester dead more than he did. Then again, maybe there were a dozen others who would love to kill the man, he thought, looking around the unlocked, empty hangar. Except, he’d bet most of them didn’t know how to make a bomb, let alone where to place it on an airplane for the most destruction. He’d be doing them all a favor.
Phone in his pocket, now all he had to do was wait for when the Gulfstream left Billings, Montana, for the return flight to Dallas—the flight he wouldn’t be on.
Chapter One
Ryder Stafford tugged down the brim of his Stetson, keeping his head lowered, as he wound through the crowd at the Billings Logan International Airport. The name made it sound much more impressive than it was. For the largest city in Montana, the airport was small compared to others in the state.
Normally, it also wasn’t this busy, but apparently some politician was flying in for a rally later tonight. Usually, the only time the state saw big-name politicians was when one of them was running for president.
Traffic would be terrible until Ryder got out of the city, he thought with regret. But he planned long before any rally began to be miles from here before that. He couldn’t wait to get back to the Powder River basin where there was so little traffic it was laughable.
Working his way to a window overlooking the tarmac, he worried he might have missed the plane’s arrival. But his timing seemed to be perfect, he thought as the Gulfstream G550 touched down against a blinding blue cloudless sky. If hisintel was right, the man he’d come to confront would be on that plane.
Tycoon Wendell Forester made it impossible to get to him personally. Even as Ryder thought it, he noticed two of the airport security standing nearby as the plane began to taxi toward the south end of the terminal where the private hangars were. Ryder knew this might be a fool’s errand. He very well might have trouble even getting close enough to the man to tell him what he needed to. Not that a couple of airport cops could dissuade him, he thought. Not at this point.
A cell phone rang next to him with a tune that caught his attention. “He just landed,” said a young female voice after he hurriedly answered the call, cutting off the ringtone. “No, I haven’t talked to him since he texted his ultimatum. He seriously can’t think he’s going to force me to marry his latest handpicked yes-man.”
Ryder glanced over at her, curiosity getting the better of him. The woman on the phone looked to be close to his age, with curly red hair that looked natural given her fair skin and jade-green eyes that rivaled his own. Her hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail. Strands of copper had escaped to frame her face, accentuating high cheekbones that made her eyes all the more vivid. She was a stunner, and he had a pretty good idea that she knew it.
As if feeling his gaze, she looked at him, their eyes locking as a smile broke out on her lovely face. “I wonder what Daddy would say if I found myself a cowboy instead.” She winked at Ryder before going back to her phone conversation. “You know my father. He buys a ranch in Montana, and all of a sudden he thinks he’s a Dutton. Why shouldn’t I give him more than he asked for? Besides... I’ve never kissed a cowboy.”
Ryder quickly dropped his gaze, turning away. He knew trouble when he saw it, and he had enough problems without adding a new one to his list. He headed for the closest exit that would take him to where the Gulfstream was now taxiing to a stop.
“Wait,” the now-familiar female voice called after him as he pushed out of the terminal. He heard her footfalls behind him, but concentrated on reaching the plane and Wendell Forester, determined to have a word with him since according to his daughter, he was indeed on that plane. The man had avoided him so far, but not this time.
The redhead had to almost run to keep up as she fell into step beside him. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to pretend to be my fiancé for the weekend.”
He didn’t even bother to look at her. “Sorry. Wrong cowboy.”
“Five thousand,” she said, having difficulty keeping up with his long-legged stride. “Please, help me out here. Look, I’m desperate. I can’t even imagine who my father might have brought to Montana, determined to make him my future husband. It’s just for this weekend. With luck, by dinner tonight I will have made my point, and we can break up,” she said, latching on to his arm as she smiled up at him.
She did have a great smile and she smelled wonderful. But he was here on ranch business. “Trust me, I’m not the answer to your problem.”
“You could be. Ten thousand dollars,” she whispered urgently, sounding more desperate as the two of them headed for the private jet. The airport security guards Ryder had been concerned might try to stop him barely gave him a second look with this woman on his arm.
As they approached, the door on the jet opened, and steps dropped down. A couple of serious-looking men in suits embarked quickly and took positions at the front and rear of the plane. Both, he realized, were armed. Bodyguards?
“Ten thousand and an evening you’ll never forget.”
He shot her a look to see if she was actually serious an instant before she called “Daddy!” and, grabbing Ryder’s arm, drew him forward with her. An older man carrying a large briefcase in one hand and a coat thrown over his other arm began to descend the plane’s stairs.
Her daddy, like the other two men who had already exited the jet, wore a suit, only his fit as if it had been made for his contours alone. Ryder didn’t doubt that it had been handstitched as he recognized Wendell Forester from the many news stories he’d read. Just this year that face had been on the cover ofForbeswhere he’d been referred to as one of the wealthiest men in the country. Another more left-wing publication had called him the richest and greediest tycoon in boots and a Stetson,listing properties from his latest “shopping” spree around the country—including Montana.
“Victoria.” Forester strode down the stairs to his daughter and gave her an awkward embrace without putting down the large briefcase or changing arms for his coat. “I wasn’t sure you’d be meeting my plane.”
