The Long Ride: A Billionaire Romance

by Jane Keeler

  “Yeah, Gabe. How you been, man? You disappeared for like a week there. The rumor mill went crazy. Was there a girl involved? It was a girl, wasn’t it? I got twenty bucks on a gorgeous redhead.”

  Gabe laughed and then laughed some more. All the pain and problems of the past couple days seemed to come out in this bout of slightly hysterical laughter. He finally had to sit down on the couch, still giggling.

  “Gabe, you okay man? I’ll tell Sylvester in Accounting he owes me twenty bucks, yeah?”

  Gabe hiccupped to silence. “Yeah, man, he owes you twenty bucks.”

  “So when do I get to meet her? You haven’t spent a whole week with the same girl in months.”

  “We’re not together. You don’t get to meet her, sorry.”

  “Oh, okay… Um… So listen man, about those production documents—I know what happened to them. You know the day you decided to take that celebratory cruise on the yacht? Well, that very afternoon Johnson called me and said he wanted to go over them one last time. He’s real persnickety about his work, which is good for us, right?

  Tony cleared his throat. “So I pulled them out of the vault and brought them to him after lunch for a final once-over. He made a few minor changes, and I still had them with me when we boarded Sea Queen. Those papers are still on the boat. We were all so drunk and in such a hurry to get away from your dad that I forgot to get them out of the ship’s safe, but they should still be there.”

  “What!” Gabe yelled in a mixture of annoyance and relief. “When were you planning on saying something?”

  “Well, y’know, the FBI was there, and you were gone and…”

  “Okay okay. I’m chartering the jet. We’re going back to Florida. Lemme call my dad.”

  “Hi Dad!” Gabe sounded positively chipper when Westley answered. “I know where the Johnson documents are, and I can put them in your hands by this afternoon! Bye, Dad, see you soon.”

  Chapter 22

  Karlee ducked down behind a bush when she saw her quarry exit the building. It looked like he had the early morning shift and was leaving for the day. Score! She showed her teeth again and followed him into an underground parking garage. She hoped her heart wasn’t thumping loud enough for him to hear. It felt like it was, but she stayed a good hundred feet behind him all the way.

  The man she was following opened the door to a white van. Karlee had her phone out, recording the license plate number, when a hand reached out from behind her and took it. Shit! She looked up into an unmistakable disgruntled-looking face.

  “Hey, girlie. If you wanna follow people around, you should cover up that hair.” He showed her the gun in his hand and nodded meaningfully towards the van.

  Karlee opened her mouth to scream and felt an arm go around her throat, catching her in a chokehold. The edges of her vision sparkled and then darkened to a pinpoint as she lost consciousness.

  She woke up in the back of the van, arms and legs wrapped thoroughly with duct tape. She squirmed a bit, but there was no give anywhere. She took a deep breath. Her neck was sore, but there seemed to be no permanent damage to her throat.

  “Hi, sleeping beauty. Glad to see you’re with us again.” She couldn’t see who was talking from her position in the back, but it had to be one of those odious men.

  “What do you want with me? I don’t know anything about anything.” Her voice sounded calm and controlled—Karlee was proud of herself, because she was terrified. Her pulse pounded in her abused neck and she didn’t know where that ringing in her ears had come from.

  “You don’t have to know anything, girlie. You’re just the bait. Your boyfriend will probably do anything to get that sweet ass back in one piece.”

  Karlee laughed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “You’re not gonna run that scam on us again. You fooled us back at the hotel, but you’ve been seen together since then. The pictures looked all lovey-dovey to me.”

  “No, really! He doesn’t give a damn about me. We had some fun together, but that’s all it was. He’s probably forgotten all about me by now and gone off with some supermodel.” Karlee felt a stabbing pain in her chest that had nothing to do with the attack or the restraints. She was probably speaking the exact truth. She pictured Gabe with some statuesque beauty and writhed again in grief and humiliation— and guilt.

  If only she’d been honest with him! She could imagine how betrayed he felt. She knew how much he hated reporters, but she wasn’t a tabloid journalist! She scrupulously fact-checked her articles and credited her sources (when they weren’t secret).

  The Financial Times was a credible news outlet, surviving in tough times through the quality of its investigative journalism. When the whistleblower Montgomery Walters had decided to tell the world about the illegal backroom deals going on at National Bank, he had come to Karlee.

  “Squirming around won’t do you any good. That tape’s tight.” It was the jackass again.

  “What are you planning to do?” she asked, straining to keep her voice pleasant. She’d always read that in a hostage situation you should do your best to ingratiate yourself with your captors. If you could get them to like you, maybe even trust you a little bit, you had a better chance of escape.

  “Well, I don’t see any harm in you knowing. We’re going to set up a simple trade. You for the Johnson process. You better hope the Braxton brat still cares about you, that’s all.”

  Chapter 23

  Gabe was finally back in New York, after almost six hours on the plane. They’d had a car waiting for them at the airport, and he had dashed down to the marina to Sea Queen, grabbed the papers, and hurried back to the jet. Gabe now knew how it felt to be the baton in a relay race, but they’d gotten the job done.

  The production line documents were back in the Braxton vault where they belonged, and with all the new security arrangements they should be safer than ever before. His dad had shaken his hand and smiled at him. The last time Gabe remembered his dad smiling at him had been his tenth birthday party, when Gabe was blowing out the candles on the cake his mom had made.

  They were all having a celebratory glass of champagne from the bottle of Dom Perignon Westley had broken out for the occasion. Even Special Agent Chambers had been persuaded to take some.

  Gabe’s phone rang—unknown number. “Wonder who this is,” he muttered to himself. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Gabe!”

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “This is the guy who’s got your pretty little redhead.”

  “WHAT! Karlee?! What have you done with her?!”

  The FBI man had started across the room when he first saw Gabe check his phone and frown. Now he was standing at Gabe’s side and motioning to see the caller ID. He nodded, met Gabe’s eyes, and made a ‘keep talking’ gesture with his hand. Then he crossed the room again to make a phone call himself, talking in a low voice that couldn’t be heard by Gabe’s caller.

  “We haven’t done anything to her—yet.”

  “Let me talk to her!”

  “Hi Gabe,” Karlee sounded a little hoarse but calm.

  “Karlee! How are you? Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine. A little stiff from lying on the floor of this—”

  “That’s enough.” It was that hateful voice again. “Just do what we tell you and nobody has to get hurt.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve seen your faces and can identify you to the police! You probably just want to kill us both!”

  “No, no. We’re not violent as a rule. There are much better ways of going about things, not to mention much harder time for violent crimes. Once we get those documents, we’ll be out of the country before you know it and you’ll never see us again. I’m planning to buy a nice tropical island somewhere and retire.”

  The voice chuckled. “Just do what we tell you and there won’t be any problems for anyone. What do you care? You’ve got billions of dollars anyway. You won’t even notice a few billion more or less.”

  “What do y
ou want me to do?”

  “Meet us on the corner of Jay and Front Street in Vinegar Hill.” The voice gave him the directions for the swap. Gabe agreed to meet them there in one hour with the plans in hand and hung up. He had to try twice to get the phone into his pocket; his hands were shaking so badly.

  He looked defiantly at his father. “I don’t care, Dad. I just want Karlee back safe and sound.”

  “Hey, guys? Guys, I have an idea…” Tony spoke up.

  Gabe listened, and then he smiled. So did everyone else in the room.

  “Of course, we’ll do our best to capture them, but the important thing is the safe return of Miss Gold,” the FBI agent said. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go prepare my team.”

  Gabe sat in the driver’s seat of one of the company cars, tapping his fingers on the wheel one at a time. Tony came up and handed him a binder through the window. Gabe flipped through it quickly—it was full of production details and specifications for making hydrogen fuel cells using the Johnson process. He nodded at Tony and started the engine.

  He drove carefully through the city. The very last thing he needed right now was to get in an accident. His phone’s GPS directed him to Vinegar Hill—Gabe had never been in this part of New York before. It was a desolate place, full of vacant lots, empty office buildings, and shuttered warehouses. It looked like the sort of neighborhood where the inhabitants kept their heads down and minded their own business: perfect for a ransom swap.

  Gabe pulled over beside a vacant lot and waited for his phone to ring. He’d been told not to get out of the car, but he looked around, trying to take in as much of the surroundings as he could through the windows. He didn’t see any police or FBI. He didn’t see anyone.

  His phone rang and he answered. It was a struggle to keep his voice under control but he managed it.

  “Gabe, my boy.” The voice sounded positively jovial. Probably fantasizing about pretty island girls in grass skirts. “You got the docs?”

  “Yes, I have them.”

  “Leave them in the car, walk away, and don’t look back. Karlee will meet you at the coffee shop on the corner.”

  “How do I know you’ll do what you promised?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to trust me, won’t you?”

  Gabe didn’t have a response to that. He left the binder lying on the passenger seat and got out of the car, hands visible and empty at his sides. He walked north on Jay Street towards the coffee shop.

  It was one of those hippie free-trade places, set up in a converted warehouse. Gabe shoved the door open and ran into the cavernous space, looking frantically back and forth. He caught a glimpse of bright warmth off in one corner and couldn’t help himself.

  “Karlee!” He was by her side in an instant. He hugged her fiercely, then stepped back with his hands on her shoulders and looked her up and down. Her hair was mussed and her hands and clothes were sticky, but she looked okay. Better than okay; she looked wonderful. He couldn’t remember why he’d been so angry with her in the first place. He hugged her again. That small screaming thing buried deep in chest was finally quiet.

  Chapter 24

  Karlee felt something sharp cut down the tape holding her arms and legs, and then someone shoved her out the rear of the van. She landed face-first in a vacant lot. She guessed it might make for a little softer landing than pavement, but it still hurt.

  “Your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the coffee shop up the road.”

  “OW! You bastards!” Karlee lifted her head and screamed at the departing van. “And for the last time—he’s not my boyfriend!”

  She squirmed frantically—her right hand came loose first and she used it to pull off the rest of the tape. It felt great to get that stuff off. She lay there making bicycle motions, trying to get some feeling back into her legs. Finally she was able to get up and walk towards the coffee shop she could see in the distance.

  The delicious scent of coffee tempted her as much as the promise of warmth and safety. She needed something hot and sweet, and wouldn’t say no to a good slug of something alcoholic, either. She didn’t know whether to believe Mr. Jackass when he told her Gabe was waiting for her, but she was thankful to be released relatively unharmed.

  She cheered up a bit. Looking on the bright side, this would make a great story! She reached for her phone to make some notes, and growled when she remembered it was still in the van. Mr. Grossman would probably give her a bonus for this, though, so getting a new phone shouldn’t be a problem.

  Karlee pushed open the coffee shop door and trudged in. She was searching through her pockets, hoping she had a few dollars for a coffee, when she heard someone call her name. She looked around and was enveloped in the unmistakable scent and feel of Gabe Braxton.

  They spent a few minutes hugging and laughing. He felt her all over to make sure she wasn’t injured, and she had to elbow him in the ribs when it became clear his first aid efforts didn’t have any medicinal intent behind them anymore.

  “Shhh—Gabe, we are in public. In a coffee shop.”

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Gabe sat her down solicitously on a couch and went off to purchase the elixir of life. He came back with some chicken noodle soup for her and two large free-trade cappuccinos. He sat down beside her and slid an arm around her waist. It was like he couldn’t stop touching her, like he wanted to make sure she was really real and really there.

  “Gabe, I want to say I am so sorry for lying to you like that. I always planned to tell you. I wanted to tell you, but I know how much you hate reporters, and I guess I just never worked up the guts. I care for you so much, and I couldn’t face the thought that you might leave me.”

  “I’ve just had so many bad experiences with tabloid reporters. Whenever Dad found a woman he liked they used to follow him around, trying to get the dirt. None of Dad’s girlfriends stayed after that, and I don’t blame them. Not everybody wants to live in the glare of paparazzi flashbulbs.”

  Gabe took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t want that and Dad doesn’t either. I don’t want to be famous. I have a job that can make the world a better place and there’s going to be a lot of work to do in the next ten years. I just want to be left in peace to do it, y’know?”

  “Watch who you’re calling a tabloid reporter, bucko. I work for The Financial Times, not The Daily Enquirer!”

  Gabe kissed her gently on top of her head. “I know. We talked to Mr. Grossman when we were trying to trace your movements.”

  “That’s right! How did you get them to let me go? Oh, Gabe—don’t tell me you gave them the instructions for the Johnson process?”

  “Well, we did. And then again we didn’t. You see, when we were setting it up with Dr. Johnson, we went through like ten different versions of the manufacturing technique. He kept making changes, discussing it with Engineering, and then making more changes. Water’s pretty safe and harmless, but hydrogen and oxygen are highly flammable, not to say explosive. Their tolerances are extremely low, and the factory has to be carefully designed to make sure all your high-tech gear doesn’t go up in flames.”

  Gabe shifted beside her. “What we gave them was… V-three I think. I hope they don’t try to use it. The FBI and the NYPD have set up a sting, and it will probably be better for them if they end up in American jail. I don’t think their employers would be too pleased with them if their factories started blowing up.”

  “Damn, Gabe, that’s kind of cold.”

  “I know, but they messed with my girlfriend and I wasn’t going to let them get away with it. Actually, it was Tony’s idea. I was willing to give them the original specs, I just wanted you back safe.”

  “Who’s Tony?”

  “A friend of mine. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “Sure… hey, wait a minute, did you say girlfriend?”

  “I did indeed. You are my girlfriend and I don’t care who knows it.”

&n
bsp; “What about your father the snob?”

  “Actually, we’re getting along better now. He’s not such a bad guy. Anyway, I’m putting my foot down—and I suspect you have enough strength of character to satisfy the toughest judge!”

  Karlee finished her coffee and laid her head on Gabe’s shoulder. In a minute they’d have to get up and talk to the police. She’d have to go to work and write the story. In a minute the world would separate them again, but for now she wanted to enjoy the warmth and peace of their own little universe, just the two of them.

  Chapter 25

  Karlee was sitting in a hot tub in the middle of the hotel room, smiling at Gabe.

  “So, you decided to pay for the hotel room this time?” she teased.

  “Well, it was either that or get you to work at the bar again. Although, I think the manager was sort of hoping that was why you were back.”

  Karlee chuckled. “Yeah. Meanwhile, all I wanted was the room with the hot tub. And the strawberries. And the champagne.”

  “And me?”

  She laughed. “And you.”

  Karlee lay back and smiled. After all the brouhaha with the police and the FBI—they had pulled over the ‘subjects’, as Special Agent Chambers called them, on US Route 202 in New Jersey—Gabe had dropped her off at her apartment to write her story. She’d turned it in the next morning to Mr. Grossman’s ebullient praise. The words ‘Pulitzer Prize’ were being bandied around, but who knew what would happen in the future?

  When she got on that bus in Miami she’d never expected to meet someone like Gabe, still less that they’d ever be together the way they were now. Even Westley Braxton wasn’t the dragon she thought he’d be. He had looked her up and down and nodded.

  “You make my son happy, and I expect you have the grit and the steadfastness to balance his sometimes regrettably impetuous nature.”