He’d never met a more resourceful woman.

He leaned against the door frame, let the light that stretched into the hall from the living room fall softly across her face and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. She’d kept a vehicle hidden in a remote location for a quick getaway in the event she was made. He wondered how many gas stations along how many routes she had scouted out to ensure she could escape from a variety of locations. She appeared to know every tree and trail in those woods off the interstate. He wouldn’t even hazard to guess how many other escape routes she had around the town she’d called home for the past year.

She was absolutely amazing.

She’d gone to great lengths to protect herself and her child. That alone made him wonder about the threat her ex posed….

The Hidden Heir
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

As a mother I have often worried what would become of my youngest daughter if something were to happen to me and her father. I am certain I could count on my eldest daughter as well as my niece, but beyond family, who could I depend on for this enormous obligation? In this life there are friends and there are friends. Donna Boyd is a friend with whom I would without hesitation trust my daughter’s life. This book is dedicated to her unending loyalty and immense kindness. I will forever hold her friendship dear to my heart.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it bad enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998, her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345 or visit her Web site at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Keith Devers—This is his first field assignment. Can a guy who has worked in research his entire career cut it in the field?

Ashley Orrick—Seemingly sweet and vulnerable, she’s willing to go to great lengths to keep her son away from his father. But is the money her only motivation?

Desmond Van Valkenberg—His fortune can buy him anything except a cure for his terminal illness. Doesn’t he have the right to know his only son?

Mr. Brody—Van Valkenberg’s personal attorney. His loyalty lies with his client. How far is he willing to go to keep that client happy?

Ben Haygood—The Top Gun of software and hardware at the Colby Agency. Will he be able to come through for Keith when a life hangs in the balance?

Mary Orrick—Is she protecting her daughter or seeking revenge against the man she hates?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Victoria Colby-Camp sat in the coffee shop on the first floor of the building she called her second home. The place where the Colby Agency had been born, where it thrived more than twenty years later.

Located mere blocks off Chicago’s glorious Magnificent Mile, coming to work every day was a treat for the senses. She loved the excitement of the city. Her city. The sounds and smells; the good and the bad that went along with living in an ever-expanding metropolis.

She should be getting back to the office. Lucas—she smiled—would be wondering where she’d gotten to. Every woman who had loved and lost, whatever the circumstances, should have a second chance at the kind of love she had found with Lucas Camp.

Victoria thanked God every day for him, as well as for the health and well-being of her family.

She sipped her Earl Grey and studied the patrons swarming in and out of the small coffee shop. There were only six tables, each with two delicately formed wrought iron chairs. The seats weren’t cushioned, most likely to prevent anyone from growing too comfortable. The owner needn’t have worried; most who entered the shop were in a hurry. They were either in a rush to get to work or simply needed to get away from the office for a few moments. Smoking was no longer permitted in the building, so those who partook were forced to go outside to do so.

Of course, there was coffee and tea of all sorts in the lounge on the fourth floor just down the hall from Victoria’s office. Or Mildred, her secretary, would have been happy to see after her refreshment needs. Each morning when Victoria came to work, she found coffee, her favorite blend, waiting for her in an elegant carafe. Mildred had a kind of sixth sense when it came to anticipating the needs of most everyone at the agency. This one had been no different.

But, like those with cigarettes and lighters in hand, this morning Victoria had come down to the lobby for a different reason. Escape, for only a minute or two. She couldn’t say precisely why she had felt the need. All was well at home and in the office. She simply needed a few moments, not necessarily alone but to herself.

She watched the men and women rush through the main entrance and across the expanse of polished marble floor only to have to wait in line while security scrutinized their possessions as well as their persons. To move beyond that checkpoint, one had to have proper identification and be thoroughly screened for anything that might be used as a weapon.

It was a nuisance, but unfortunately a necessary one in today’s climate of unrest.

Victoria settled her attention back on the swiftly cooling tea. Maybe the reason for her desire to have a moment alone was more apparent than she realized. For the first time in almost two decades, everything in her life was exactly as it should be. Her son Jim and his wife Tasha, were at long last happy, and the first Colby grandchild was on the way. The horrors that had haunted Jim since his return home were now finally under control.

A smile toyed with the corners of Victoria’s mouth. And her other baby, her agency, was better than ever. She’d hired more new recruits, bringing the total to five. The energy from those young men and women had provided just the transfusion of excitement the agency had needed recently.

Unstoppable.

That was the one word that truly defined her agency as it moved toward its third decade of operation.

She felt completely satisfied for the first time in far too long a time. Satisfied and extremely lucky.

That smile that had tickled her lips now spread across her face as she caught sight of her husband in the lobby. Confidence radiating from him, Lucas strode straight into the coffee shop. He didn’t glance her way, but she knew he was aware of her presence. When his turn in line came, he placed his order—coffee, the strongest Colombian blend, no doubt. Cup in hand, he bypassed the side counter holding various sweeteners and creamers and headed directly for her table. That determined gaze settled on hers and that special connection that bound them so inextricably hummed at its full intensity.

“Is this seat taken?”

She looked up at the man she loved more than life itself and let her smile speak for her. Her husband’s own lips quirked as he lowered himself into the seat. The tailored pin-striped suit he wore was her favorite. The blue shirt and deeper navy tie turned his silvery eyes to a warmer hue of passionate gray, making her feel warm and safe inside.

Lucas surveyed the dwindling comings and goings, then rested his full attention on her. “It’s kind of early for a break, isn’t it?”

That much was true. It wasn’t even nine yet. This man had spent the past twenty plus years worrying about her. Even now, when life was as good as it gets, he didn’t relent.

“It’s been a long time, Lucas, since I’ve sat and watched life happen around me. I’ve been so busy trying to keep my world from shattering at every turn that I couldn’t risk taking note of anything else.” It felt good to be able to step back and just enjoy life as it happened.

He nodded knowingly. “You’re afraid it won’t last.”

Victoria frowned, performing a quick inventory of her feelings. “To some degree, I suppose that’s a fair assessment.” She picked up her tea, held it with both hands and relished its warmth. However strong she might be, no one was exempt from worry now and again. “Who doesn’t worry?”

“You could always retire,” he suggested with a mischievous twinkle in those sexy eyes. “We could spend our mornings watching the world go by and our evenings admiring the sunset from anywhere in the world that pleases you.”

She couldn’t say his offer wasn’t tempting, but Victoria understood that she would never be happy doing only that. Retirement was not for her. “I can’t say that I haven’t considered just that,” she admitted. Especially since Lucas had stepped down from his high-powered position in D.C., choosing to serve as a consultant when needed and usually via a telephone conference. Once in a while, he still had to fly to the District to take care of highly classified business personally. Then there was the pending arrival of their first grandchild.

In spite of all those seemingly logical reasons to choose retirement, she knew herself too well. “But you know that would never be enough.”

“I would be shocked if you had proposed otherwise.” Lucas leaned forward and gave a covert look around to ensure no one was within hearing distance. “Speaking of work, Mildred wanted me to give you a message.”

Victoria lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “Did Mildred send you to bring me back?” She hadn’t intended to stay this long; time had gotten away from her. It amused her immensely that Lucas didn’t mind playing messenger. Just another indication of how very much he loved her.

“You had a call from a client she felt you wouldn’t want to miss. The appointment is scheduled for half an hour from now.”

Her calendar was clear this morning. An unexpected appointment wouldn’t be a problem. “Who’s the client?” Someone in a hurry, obviously. Someone who wanted to see her personally rather than one of the two men who served as her seconds-in-command.

“Desmond Van Valkenberg.”

Surprised, she tried to remember the last time she’d had Mr. Van Valkenberg or his representative in her office. Three years? Four? A corporate profile request, if her memory served her correctly. She didn’t know Desmond that well, but she had known his father quite well. Hershel Van Valkenberg had been a giant in finance, a man of his word until the day he passed away twelve years ago. He preferred doing business the old-fashioned way, himself and in person. His son had proved to be a vastly different businessman, with numerous representatives to see after his interests while he remained reclusive and as far from the limelight as possible.

“He’s sending his representative, a Mr. Lance Brody, to see you.”

Mr. Brody was his personal attorney, not one of the corporate team he usually sent. Victoria had met the gentleman once at a reception she had attended and where Van Valkenberg had made one of his rare appearances. Brody was a very formal man. He gave new meaning to the term stuffed shirt, but had quite the stellar reputation as an attorney.

In any event, she should prepare for his arrival. She stood. “Under the circumstances I suppose we should get back.”

Lucas pushed to his feet with effort. Some days, the fact that he wore a prosthetic for a right leg was more pronounced than others. Her heart squeezed at the memory of how he’d gained that at times unwieldy appliance. His sacrifice as a prisoner of war had saved her first husband’s life long, long ago. Lucas was not only a wonderful husband, he was also a man of unparalleled courage. He’d proven to be her savior more than once.

He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Victoria looped her arm in his and thanked God again for this wondrous man. To have known and loved two great men in her lifetime was truly a blessing few had the good fortune of claiming. “Absolutely.”

A few minutes later, Victoria sat in her office reviewing the Van Valkenberg file Mildred had already pulled for her convenience. The work the Colby Agency had done for this client, and for his father before him, generally involved background searches on potential employees and profiles of companies targeted for potential mergers. She had every reason to anticipate that the coming meeting would be more of the same. But she was puzzled that he had chosen to send his personal attorney.

A light rap on the door alerted her to Brody’s arrival. Mildred opened the door and announced him. Victoria, though strangely preoccupied with her own thoughts this Monday morning, couldn’t help noticing her longtime secretary’s glow. Another weekend with her beau, she supposed. Victoria felt certain those two would be setting a wedding date soon. And why not? Life was too precious to waste.

Victoria rose from her chair. “Thank you, Mildred.” She shifted her full attention to her visitor. “Mr. Brody, come in, please.”

Lance Brody crossed the room in three long strides and, shifting his briefcase to his left hand, extended his right across her desk. “Mrs. Colby-Camp, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Victoria shook his hand, acknowledging his greeting with a nod. “Why don’t we sit and you can tell me what it is that Mr. Van Valkenberg requires of my agency. We’re anxious to be of service.”

Brody sat, his shoulders as stiff as the freshly starched gray suit he wore. “Our needs are quite different this time I’m afraid. This time is…personal.”

A new kind of tension rippled through Victoria. Personal. Desmond Van Valkenberg was not the kind of man who often allowed anyone outside his most intimate circle close enough to know his most personal business.

“I see. Why don’t you start at the beginning and give me the details.” Victoria settled into her chair and waited for the representative of her client to proceed as he saw fit.

Brody crossed his long legs and appeared to settle in. “Some ten years ago, a female companion of Mr. Van Valkenberg’s, a Miss Ashley Orrick, gave birth to a son while living here in Chicago with him. The two had been involved for just over one year.”

Victoria was surprised to hear this. She wasn’t aware that Desmond had any children. “Was proof of paternity obtained?”

The lawyer nodded. “Certainly, but the trouble ultimately proved unnecessary. There were a few minor complications at birth and the child’s blood type confirmed the truth of his parentage. Mr. Van Valkenberg has a very rare blood type. The child has the same.”

“Has there been contact with the child or the mother recently?”

“Not since the child was about three months old. The woman, Miss Orrick, left abruptly and took the child with her.”

The idea that Van Valkenberg would simply permit her to leave with his son in tow surprised Victoria. “Did Mr. Van Valkenberg attempt to stop her or to exercise his rights as the father at that time or since?”

“No,” Brody explained carefully. “There were problems with the woman. She threatened to blackmail him, using the child as leverage. At one point, she went so far as to contact one of his rivals in an attempt to undermine an ongoing business deal.” Brody shrugged. “Frankly, I’m convinced she was unbalanced. Her irrational behavior only worsened as time went by.”

“And yet,” Victoria interrupted, “you allowed her to leave with the child.”

“Actually,” he said pointedly, clearly somewhat offended by her suggestion, “she took the child and disappeared. After stealing a considerable sum of money from Mr. Van Valkenberg, I might add. This woman was a gold digger from the outset, I’m afraid.”

“Mr. Van Valkenberg wishes to find the child now,” Victoria guessed.

“Yes.” Brody opened his briefcase and took out a file. He leaned forward and offered it to Victoria. “You’ll find all the information we have on Miss Orrick in this file, including numerous photos, but, unfortunately, the photos are ten years old.”

Victoria accepted the file, considered the contents a moment before asking, “Why now? After all these years?” She needed to know the rest of the story. The Colby Agency prided itself on discretion, both in the cases they accepted and in the way they conducted their investigations. However long Van Valkenberg had been a client, she needed clarification on exactly what he wanted and, equally important, why.

Mr. Brody leveled a solemn gaze at her. “As you’re well aware, Mr. Van Valkenberg has always been a man dedicated to his work and inordinately reserved in his social agenda. He hasn’t taken the time to develop or nurture any sort of real personal life. However, he recently learned news that has forced him to rethink his past decisions.”

Victoria braced herself for what came next. Judging by the man’s expression as well as his somber tone, the news was not good.

“Mr. Van Valkenberg has given permission for me to share this information with you, but, as you will see, the public cannot know, for obvious reasons. He’s dying. According to the team of specialists working on his case, he has five or six months at best. He feels he has accomplished all that he’d set out to in the business world for a man barely forty. However, he knows that not acquainting himself with his only child would be a disgrace on a personal level. This is his greatest wish. We must locate the boy before it’s too late.”

Victoria understood how Mr. Van Valkenberg must feel. The thought of never seeing her son again had been almost too much to bear. She’d been down that path. No parent should ever have to feel that kind of pain and desolation.

Victoria made a decision then and there to do all she could to ensure that Desmond’s son was found. “Mr. Brody, I would like you to convey to Mr. Van Valkenberg my personal feelings of regret for this untimely tragedy. Assure him that we at the Colby Agency will do all within our power to find his son and, as always, with the utmost discretion.”

Mr. Brody acknowledged her words with a nod. “I will relay your assurances, but Mr. Van Valkenberg has no doubt where your agency is concerned. I would, however, like to give him some sense of the time frame you feel you require to accomplish your work, since time is clearly of the essence.”

Victoria thought about her answer for a moment. She didn’t want to sound overly optimistic since the woman and child had been missing for ten years, but, at the same time, she didn’t want to worry her client needlessly.

“One week minimum,” she allowed. “I wouldn’t expect, barring any unforeseen circumstances, more than two. It’s much more difficult for a woman to hide with a child in tow.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Brody stood and extended his hand. “We will look forward to hearing from you, Mrs. Colby-Camp.”

Victoria rose as well, shook his hand once more and gave final assurances that Mr. Van Valkenberg needn’t worry. The Colby agency was on the case.

When Brody had left, Victoria again considered the file he’d provided. Ashley Orrick, according to the documents in the file, had been twenty-one at the time she’d given birth. Very young. Strawberry blond hair, pale skin with a scattering of delicate freckles, and green eyes, all of which she could have easily changed with hair color, contacts and sufficient makeup.

Miss Orrick had grown up in a small farming community in Indiana. Her father had passed away when she was eighteen but her mother still lived on the small family farm.

The fact that she had a surviving family member would most likely make the job of finding her somewhat less difficult. Victoria turned over the picture of the missing woman’s mother to find a note scribbled on the back: Uncooperative. Combative.

A good deal of background information had been gathered by Brody himself, it appeared. Ashley had attended the local high school and gone on to attend a nearby university. After graduating from college, she’d come to Chicago and met Desmond at a job fair in one of his uncommon public appearances.

She hadn’t gotten a job, but she had moved in with him within two months. One year later, she disappeared after a Mommy and Baby Yoga class.

The child, in his three-month-old photo and in the physical description listed in Brody’s report, appeared to have his father’s coloring, dark hair and olive skin. Too early to tell about the eyes—dark, perhaps brown if the color remained the same.

Victoria summoned Mildred on the intercom. “Would you have Ben and Keith come to my office please.”

Ben Haygood was the agency’s top systems man. He could do just about anything with a computer. His resourcefulness with gadgets was unparalleled.

Keith Devers had worked for the agency for several years in the research department. Only recently had he agreed to Victoria’s prodding and moved into investigations. He was more than qualified for the position of investigator but he’d hesitated for some time, preferring to delve into research from his desk rather than to move into the field.

Victoria found Keith’s shyness quite refreshing. She recognized that he would blossom into a terrific investigator once he got his feet wet. All he needed was a little prompting and the right case. He’d shadowed a couple of other cases already. This one would serve quite well for putting him out there for his first solo. A simple missing person case with no real theatrics attached. With one or two cases this un-complicated under his belt, he’d be ready for something with a little more drama.

Keith arrived just then. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, come in, Keith.”

Ben poked his head through the door next, his glasses as well as his tie askew as usual. “Did you call for me, Victoria?”

“I did. Please join us, Ben.”

Ben half stumbled through the open door as if her answer had startled him, then took a moment to right his eyewear and straighten his tie. Victoria kept her amusement tucked out of sight, though it wasn’t easy. Ben’s clothes were a bit rumpled, and he wore his typical, perpetually distracted expression. The quintessential computer geek. Extremely intelligent with absolutely no fashion sense or social grace.

Keith, however, was the other end of the spectrum. Elegantly dressed, meticulous manners. The man was a study in social etiquette. And equally intelligent.

“Crashing the system was a necessary risk,” Ben said the moment he stopped in front of her desk. His posture resembled that of a soldier’s while standing at attention before a superior officer. “It was inevitable in order to accomplish the download.”

Uncertain she wanted to know what his announcement meant, she ventured, “A systems crash?”

He held up both hands as if to stop any further conclusions on her part. “Nothing to worry about, Victoria. Things were back up and running by 2 a.m. Not a problem. I knew what I was doing.”

She smiled. “I’m certain of that, Ben.” She looked from him to Keith. “Please have a seat, gentlemen.”

When both men, each as different from the other as a glass of cola and a glass of champagne, had laid claim to wingback chairs facing her desk, Victoria began, “We have a new case that I believe is the one that should launch your investigative career, Keith.”

He tensed visibly. “Great.” But his deep voice failed to relay the word with any enthusiasm. He smoothed a hand down the length of his striped tie. “When do I start?”

“As soon as we have some of the preliminary details out of the way.” She shifted her attention to Ben. “That’s where you come in, Ben. We’ll need a computer age progression on this photo.” She passed the picture of the baby to him. “And one on the mother, as well.”

Ben scratched his head as he studied the ten-year-old photographs. “The female won’t be a problem. But you know the process works a lot better if the kid is at least two years old.” Concern spelled itself out in his expression. “I can’t make any promises about real accuracy with an infant.”

“Do your best.” She hoped that would make him feel more at ease, she should have known better.

He studied the photo again and his right leg started to bounce nervously. “I have a friend in…” He shrugged, looked embarrassed. “Well, it doesn’t matter where he works. He has access to this state-of-the-art process that’s not available to us regular folks. I might be able to get him to do this one as a favor to me.”

There was the Ben Victoria knew and loved. He always found a way to get things done. How had he worked in the bowels of research so long without her notice? The answer was easy; he hadn’t wanted to be noticed. That he had been a few months ago was an accident. He’d discovered a flaw in one of the agency’s computer security processes and had spoken up. It wasn’t until then that anyone had any idea about his genius. And that’s what it was—pure genius.

“That would be wonderful, Ben. We need to find this child. Time is our enemy.”

“Is the child ill?” Keith wanted to know.

“No.” Victoria gave the folder with the rest of its contents to him. “The biological father is terminally ill and he wishes to know his son before he dies. The mother left when the child was only three months old and she hasn’t been heard from since.”

As he reviewed the contents of the folder, Keith asked, “Are we sure she’s still alive?”

Victoria had read the file reports on where Brody had looked for the woman. He hadn’t found anything that indicated she was deceased, but then he wasn’t experienced in the art of finding missing people, either.

“We can’t be sure, but we need to find out as quickly as possible. Our client only has a few short months to live. Since the Van Valkenberg family has been a client of this agency for a number of years, I’m putting my best on the case.”

Keith’s gaze collided with hers. “Victoria, are you sure it’s me you want on this one?”

Again, his uneasiness was evident. “Very sure,” she confirmed.

Ben jumped up. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’d like to get started on this.”

“Please do. The moment you hear from your friend, you should forward the results to Keith.”

Ben nodded. “Will do.”

He hurried out of the office, the fire obviously burning in his belly to accomplish his mission. Just another thing Victoria appreciated about him. He loved his work and appeared to relish a challenge.

Her attention came back to rest on Keith’s blond head bowed over the file. Such a handsome young man. Blond hair, blue eyes, and well tanned from running five miles every morning beneath the July sun. What was it that made such a good-looking, intelligent young man so unsure of himself? He’d graduated at the top of his university class back in Nebraska. He’d come to Chicago, gone to work for the Tribune in the research department and done well.

His seemingly abrupt decision to move yet again, this time from journalism to private investigations, had seemed odd when she’d first interviewed him more than two years ago. But his résumé had been impeccable and highly attractive to any potential employer. She hadn’t questioned her good fortune too closely. Keith Devers was an asset, the Colby Agency was glad to have him on board.

Perhaps she’d grown cynical in the past few years, always looking for the underlying motivation in all things. She did wonder, however, how such a handsome young man had stayed unattached until the ripe old age of thirty-two.

Maybe he was also shy in his personal life. Certainly there were no known skeletons in his closet. The man had never been in trouble in his life. Not even a parking ticket. And in Chicago, that was saying something.

He looked up then and asked, “So, I’m supposed to find her and the boy and bring them back to Chicago?”

“That would be the optimum scenario,” she allowed, knowing from experience that it would never be that easy.

“What if she doesn’t want to come back?”

The blunt question was nothing she hadn’t expected.

“Then we’ll take our client to her.”

Chapter Two

Thank God the sun had started to set. Still, it was damned hot.

Keith sat in a car outside the Orrick family home in a small farming community less than an hour outside South Bend. The modest home sat amid several hundred acres of farmland that had slowly been sold off over the past ten years. Newer homes had popped up on most of the parcels sold, leaving the Orrick home a lonely relic of the past separated by scarcely ten acres from the new, bigger and better models.

A thorough background search had shown that Ashley Orrick’s mother, Mary, lived alone since her husband’s death fifteen years ago and her daughter’s departure for college shortly after that. He’d checked the land line records associated with the address and saw that no calls had come from outside the local calling area. According to Keith’s research, Mrs. Orrick did not own a cellular phone, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. Ben had equipped Keith for that scenario.

Keith had considered at length his limited options on how to approach the older woman and decided that an extreme cover story was necessary. Outright lying wasn’t one of his favorite tactics, but under the circumstances it was, unfortunately, necessary. No way would the mother willingly give up her daughter’s location. He felt certain she wouldn’t even talk to him unless he gave her a hell of an excuse.

Technically, he wasn’t outright lying, but it felt entirely too much like deceit to sit right with his conscience. The offer was legitimate; it just somehow felt wrong. Maybe it was because Keith suspected Van Valkenberg would take legal action to ensure Ashley Orrick didn’t elude him again quicker than she could cash the check for back child support.

On the other side of the coin was Desmond Van Valkenberg. He had a right to know his son. Ashley Orrick had taken that right from him ten years ago. She’d used a number of means of deceit, including taking on one or more identities to do so. Keith shouldn’t feel guilty…but he did.

Shoving aside the undermining emotion, he emerged from his car and reached into the back seat for his briefcase. At least he would learn one thing about Miss Ashley Orrick at the end of this exercise: her price.

If she were a gold digger as Brody claimed, she would have a price. In Keith’s opinion, she certainly hadn’t behaved like someone out for the money, but he would reserve judgment until he had all the facts.

He walked up the dusty sidewalk. July’s lack of rain ensured dying grass and rising utility costs if one wanted to stay cool. Though Mrs. Mary Orrick’s home didn’t have the convenience of central air-conditioning, an individual unit droned monotonously in a window on the side of the house. A steady drizzle of water dripped from its rusty housing. Even with the sun dropping behind the trees in the distance, he already missed the cool air that had been circulating in his vehicle.

The shade on the porch provided some relief as he knocked on the screen door. He couldn’t hear any sounds inside over the buzz of the air conditioner. An old pickup truck sat near the house; to his knowledge, Mrs. Orrick didn’t own any other means of transportation, not even a tractor. All farm equipment had been sold off in the past decade.

The frame house looked badly in need of a paint job, possibly indicating the owner’s inability to afford proper maintenance despite selling off her assets. He kicked aside the sympathy that immediately filtered into his thoughts. He had to remain objective. Not that he couldn’t feel compassion for others, but before he allowed it to color his judgment, he needed all the facts.

A twist of the doorknob drew his attention. The door cracked open just far enough for the home’s occupant to peek outside. “I don’t go to church and I don’t buy goods sold across a threshold. So don’t waste your time or mine.”

“Hello, Mrs. Orrick. My name is Keith Devers.”

The narrow opening widened slightly to facilitate a better visual inspection. Eagle eyes surveyed him carefully. “What do you want?”

“I have a financial opportunity you need to be aware of.” He patted his briefcase. “If I may come in and speak privately with you.”

“I don’t have any more land to sell.”

Her voice told him to go, but the glint of hope in her eyes offered a different story. “Mrs. Orrick, this isn’t about your land.” He reminded himself not to let sympathy get in the way. Lots of folks in the farming business had suffered hard times. This wasn’t about that. This was about a man who had every right to know his son. “This is a far more lucrative offer.”

She gave him a final once-over, then opened the door. “Just remember, I’m not buying anything.”

Across the threshold, with the door closed behind him, Keith felt his confidence level rise. All he had to do now was convince this lady that reuniting father and son would be in everyone’s best interests. And, in fact, Keith did have a nice offer from Van Valkenberg. Van Valkenberg felt compelled to pay that back child support, which amounted to a sizable, inordinately generous sum. A small fortune, in fact. Enough to satisfy the financial needs of both Orrick women. Allowing the child to know his father would benefit everyone involved.

“Sit if you like,” Mary Orrick offered as she took what was clearly her favorite chair, an upholstered rocker that looked well worn and sported a cozy doily on each wood-trimmed arm.

He settled onto the sofa and placed his briefcase on the coffee table. When he leaned forward to open it, she said, “Before you go to any trouble, what’s he paying you?”

Keith stilled. “Excuse me?”

“That monster Van Valkenberg. What’s he paying you to try to find my daughter?”

Several strands of gray hair had slipped from the clasp holding her hair at the nape of her neck. Decades of hard work under the brutal sun had aged her skin well beyond her years. She looked tired and impatient, yet a keen intelligence shone through that depleted veneer.

Keith straightened, kept his gaze steady on hers. “Mr. Van Valkenberg’s attorney has retained the services of my agency to attempt to locate his son. There are hefty back payments of child support as well as estate issues that need to be settled. Your grandson is Mr. Van Valkenberg’s only heir.”

Mrs. Orrick’s gaze tapered suspiciously. “Are you saying his estate needs settling? Is he dead?”

This was where things got sticky. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss that particular matter. I do have documents—” he reached for his briefcase again “—that provide for your grandson’s financial future and the back payments I mentioned.”

Keith passed the legal documents assigning Avery Van Valkenberg—the child’s name on his birth certificate—sole beneficiary of Desmond Van Valkenberg’s estate. Another document outlined payment of an appropriate amount of accumulated child support. As uncomfortable as Keith felt allowing the woman to believe that Van Valkenberg was practically dead already, the papers were legitimate. The kid would be incredibly rich very soon. And the guy was dying.

Mary Orrick studied the papers for a few moments, especially the final pages with Van Valkenberg’s notarized signature. In time she looked up. “You leave these with me, Mr. Devers, as well as your business card and I’ll see what I can do.”

Combative? Uncooperative? Didn’t make sense to Keith. The woman appeared quite reasonable and he was sure this wasn’t the first time money had been offered for information leading to her daughter’s whereabouts. Then again, he doubted anyone had ever let her believe the monster, as she had called him, was dead.

Keith gave her his card. “Use my cell number. I’m staying in a hotel in South Bend.”

She looked at the card, raised skeptical eyebrows at him. “I’m not making any promises. We’ll see is all I’m saying.”

Keith left it at that. He’d accomplished the first stage of his plan. The next move was up to Mrs. Orrick and her daughter.

Outside, dusk had brought with it a noticeable drop in the temperature. He got into his car, turned around and drove down the long drive, away from the farmhouse in need of seemingly endless repairs.

Careful not to get out of range of Ben’s latest gadget, he parked a short distance up the country road that served as the main route into this part of the county. He checked the settings, tucked the earpiece into place and waited for Mary Orrick to do what any mother would.

Less than ten minutes after Keith had left the house, someone inside, Mary Orrick no doubt, placed a call on a cellular phone. Three rings later, a soft female voice answered. “Hello.”

“They sent someone new this time.”

Silence.

Keith analyzed the one word the other female had uttered in greeting. He couldn’t conclude with certainty that the woman was Ashley Orrick since he didn’t have a voice pattern with which to compare it, but his instincts were leaning that way. He watched as the small screen on the handheld computer relayed the signal to one of Ben’s contacts. All he needed was ninety seconds and that same contact would triangulate the exact location of the woman Mrs. Orrick had called.

Thank you, Ben.

“Not Brody?”

Again Keith played the cautiously chosen words over and over, committed each nuance of sound to memory. In his opinion, there was now no question about the woman’s identity.

“No,” Mary Orrick said. “A Keith Devers. He’s from some private investigations agency in Chicago. He brought papers showing a high six-figure number Van Valkenberg’s people are ready to pay in back child support, if you can believe that. But the real kicker he delivered is the estate papers. I think maybe Van Valkenberg’s dead or on his deathbed.”

“He can’t be dead, Mother. It would have been in the papers.”

Mother. Definitely Ashley.

“Come on,” Keith muttered as he watched the small LCD screen. “Give me a location.”

“True. But I’m looking at these papers. They name Jamie as the sole heir to his estate.”

Jamie. She’d changed the boy’s name.

“This could be a trap.”

“I know,” Mary relented with an audible sigh. “But I had to tell you, honey. This could mean your freedom and Jamie’s is close at hand.”

Keith tensed. Freedom? What the hell did that mean? He knew the two women likely hated the guy, but damn, wishing him dead was cold.

A series of high-pitched tones alerted him that the location had been acquired. South Bend? It couldn’t be that simple. No way.

“Send me the papers the usual way. I’ll take a look and we’ll go from there.”

The two exchanged good-byes wrought with palpable emotion. Keith jerked out the earpiece and focused on driving. He could be at the address in forty minutes. He hoped like hell she would still be there.

How could she have been living that close all this time and not have been discovered by Van Valkenberg’s people? It didn’t make sense. Brody didn’t appear incompetent by any means.

Keith would know soon.

Forty-five minutes later, Keith sat outside a twenty-four-hour diner in South Bend.

“This can’t be right,” he murmured. Would Ashley Orrick have the nerve to work in the open in a place like this?

Keith had a very bad feeling that something was way out of sync here.

He got out of his car and surveyed the crowded parking lot. Every instinct warned that solving this case wasn’t going to be anywhere near this easy. But the location was all he had.

Floor-to-ceiling windows made up the length of the front facade of the diner. Booths, tables and even the long counter fronted by bar stools looked to be occupied. Four waitresses weaved around the maze of customers. Not one looked like his target, but all looked harried.

Since he knew this wasn’t the only restaurant in town, he could only assume, judging by the crowd, that the food must be above average. But it wasn’t the food he was interested in.

As he moved inside, he pretended to scour the place for an open table or stool, surveying each waitress a little more closely. Nope. Not one matched Ashley Orrick’s description. That didn’t mean she wasn’t in the back working in the kitchen in some capacity. For that matter, she could be here having dinner. Just in case, he scanned the faces of customers a bit more slowly. No one caught his eye.

Noting the arrow pointing to a side corridor and the location of the restrooms, Keith made his way through the diner. He bypassed the men’s room and took a chance. He knocked on the door of the ladies’ room. When no one answered, he stuck his head inside and checked the stalls. Empty.

With a quick glance toward the diner to make sure no one was headed that way, he moved past the restrooms and the emergency rear exit, to the door marked Employees Only. He pushed into the kitchen and had just enough time to scrutinize the crew scrambling to fill orders before anyone noticed his presence and realized he didn’t have any business poking his head through the door.

“Hey!” A short, stout woman shouted. “You can’t be back here!”

“Sorry.” He shrugged, tried to look embarrassed. “Bathroom?”

“The door marked Men’s Room,” another woman said with a smirk.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, then quickly made his exit amid a rumble of laughter.

He returned to the dining room, located an unoccupied bar stool and made himself comfortable.

“You ready to order?”

He glanced up at the waitress waiting on the other side of the counter. A bottle blonde, tall, slim. Looked as if she’d worked one shift too many.

“Coffee.” He pushed a smile into place, glanced at her nametag. Gina. When he was just a kid, his mom had been a waitress. Honest work, he remembered her saying. Honest but hard. As an adult he’d always left big tips.

“Cream? Sugar?” She had shored up a faint smile in answer to his, but it appeared as mechanical as her one-word queries.

He shook his head. “Black.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing else.”

A few moments later, she set the mug of steaming coffee in front of him and moved on to the next customer. As he savored the coffee, he watched the patrons coming and going.

Half an hour passed and still no sign of anyone even remotely matching Ashley Orrick’s description. He’d considered numerous possibilities. Had she dyed her hair? Blond? Brunette? What about her eyes? Would she be wearing colored contacts to camouflage her vivid green eyes? He had to admit he’d never known anyone with eyes that brilliant. They shone like jewels. That sounded cheesy, but it was true. He’d definitely know those eyes if he spotted them, even in a crowd and from a reasonable distance.

She could have gained weight. Lost weight, though not much if she wanted to maintain her health. Ten years ago, she’d looked thin enough.

Ben had done an age progression on her and estimated that she wouldn’t look that different unless she’d had a significant weight change or suffered from an illness or been in an accident that altered her physical appearance. He’d gotten the age progression on the infant, as well. And though Ben’s friend, who Keith suspected worked for Homeland Security, asserted that the progression was ninety percent accurate, Keith would have to see the kid to believe it.

Still, he paid attention to every male child and each female adult who entered or exited the diner.

And nothing.

Not an hour later.

Not two hours later.

He’d been had.

“HE’S HERE. Been hanging out a couple of hours.”

Ashley felt her heart thump against her sternum. Damn. She should have known the story this guy had given her mother was too good to be true.

“You’re sure it’s him?”

“Yep. I’m looking right at him. He’s wearing that navy suit your mother described. The white shirt and red tie. He’s tall, blond hair, great blue eyes. Tanned. Just like one of those surfer guys. Damned good-looking for a cop.”

“Not a cop. A P.I.”

“Whatever.”

Ashley closed her eyes and exhaled a weary breath. When would it end? When would she and Jamie have a normal life? Never, said her heart.

“Can you pix him for me?”

“Sure.”

“And Gina,” Ashley went on, a new kind of fear suddenly kindling inside her.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful. I don’t know…” What was it? Nothing she could name or put her finger on. “Something about this one scares me.” Maybe it was the enormity of the offer Desmond had thrown on the table this time. She sensed a desperation in the act she’d never felt before.

“Don’t worry, Ash, I’ve got this dude’s number. Soon as I hang up, I’ll send you a snap of him.”

“Thanks, Gina.”

Ashley hung up her cell phone. The one she used to contact only Gina. She had three altogether. One for calling her mother, which bounced all over the country, ultimately showing that the call originated from Delta’s Diner in South Bend. And then the one she used for calling her son.

She blinked back the emotion that burned in her eyes when she thought of her precious boy. It had been two weeks since she’d seen him. It got harder and harder every time she had to leave him.

When he’d been just a small child, it had been easier. He’d cried. She’d cried. But she had known that he really didn’t understand what was happening and that he would love her and forgive her; the fact that she’d left him would be forgotten by the next time she came to see him.

Things were different now. He was ten. He no longer cried, he asked questions. Demanded answers. He no longer forgave her so easily when she left and then returned sometimes days, sometimes weeks later.

It was hell.

She squeezed her eyes shut but failed to block a few of the tears that would not be contained. She hated Desmond Van Valkenberg.

Why didn’t he just leave them alone?

At first, it had been about the threats. If she ever told anyone what she knew…what she’d seen…

But she’d never told a soul. And he’d left her alone.

Then, after two years, as if he’d suspected she had told his secrets, he’d shown up in her life again. She and Jamie had barely escaped him.

It was several days before she understood why he’d appeared in her life once more. The remains of one of the women with whom he’d carried on one of his many kinky affairs had been discovered. Her face had been plastered all over the news and the papers. Ashley couldn’t remember her having gone missing, but then she’d been busy trying to elude Desmond at the time.

It wasn’t until those remains had been found that Ashley had known exactly what Desmond was capable of.

Murder.

Her decision to take her son and disappear so completely that she scarcely knew herself anymore had definitely been the right one.

Even now, eight years after the remains had been found, the case had not been solved.

Nothing about the case had connected the dead woman to Desmond. Nothing likely would. He had the kind of money that could cover up any injustice.

But she had the videotape.

The single piece of evidence that could prove he’d had a dangerous affair with the woman right before she went missing. That didn’t make him her killer, though the brutality of the sex they shared had been damned frightening. It would, however, make him a suspect. He wouldn’t stand for that. The extent that he appeared to be willing to go to in order to see that the tape never got into the hands of the authorities was the single most compelling reason for Ashley to be scared.

She hadn’t realized the significance of the tape she’d taken from among dozens upon dozens she’d discovered after her son was born. No, taking that particular tape hadn’t amounted to brilliance or even luck. She’d merely taken the one that showcased her as one of Desmond’s conquests.

She shuddered when she let the memories emerge from that place where she’d locked them away so long ago.

Desmond Van Valkenberg was capable of anything.

Anything.

She’d run with her child in tow to protect him from the evil his father craved. Besides, Desmond didn’t like baggage. He’d been fascinated by Ashley. That was the only reason he’d allowed her to actually live with him for more than a year. Her foolish vulnerability had enticed him. Even the child they’d created together had amused him for a time.

But that hadn’t lasted very long.

She’d realized it was time to go the night he’d tried to kill her.

Her cell phone rang and she jumped. She glanced around the store to make sure no one had come in to witness her foolish behavior. She had to get a grip here.

Pressing her hand to her chest she sucked in breath. Stay calm. Being calm and rational was her only defense against Desmond. She had to be smarter than him. Quicker on her feet.

He’d left her alone for a very long time now. What was the reason for his sudden renewed interest?

There had to be some motivation for his trouble. Had the investigation into that old case been resurrected?

Had he killed another of his consorts? She hadn’t seen anything in the news related to that sort of case in the Chicago area. There were only three other women on the tape besides her. One was dead. It wouldn’t be difficult to determine if the other two were alive and well. Maybe she should look into that possibility.

She opened her phone to view the picture Gina had just sent her via her own camera phone.

The image of the man her mother had described filled the small screen.

Ashley moistened her lips and told her heart to calm. Young, she decided. Maybe her age or younger. Handsome. He looked…harmless.

But he wouldn’t be.

Desmond Van Valkenberg had sent him.

Nothing about Desmond could be considered harmless, most assuredly not his hired help.

Whatever he was after, she had to make sure he didn’t find Jamie.

She had to protect her son at all costs.

She sat down on the stool behind the counter and stared at the image on her phone’s tiny screen.

Her intuition nudged her, warned her, that this time she wouldn’t escape so easily. This guy looked as determined as he did handsome.

She closed the phone and looked up as the bell over the store’s entrance door jingled. A familiar face strolled into the convenience store.

“Evening, Mr. Talley, how are you tonight?” Somehow she managed to sound chipper when she felt anything but.

He grunted from beneath the bill of his cap. “Can you believe I had to come out for milk at this hour?” He shook his head and shuffled toward the cooler at the back of the store. “I swear. Couldn’t she have noticed that we were out before bedtime?”

Ashley had to smile. The man was one of her regular customers and the she he spoke of was his wife. They’d been married forty years and he never let anyone forget it. For all his grumbling, Ashley knew he worshiped the ground his wife walked on.

“Thank the Lord for all-night convenience stores,” he groused as he plopped the gallon of milk onto the counter. “How’s your night going, Nola?”

That was her name now. Nola Childress. Nola who lived and worked in Waynesville, Missouri. A nobody in the middle of nowhere.

“Like all the rest, Mr. Talley. Quiet.” That was another way she stayed out of the mainstream. She worked the graveyard shift.

That was her life. Nobody, nowhere, nightshift.

Not even her own mother knew where she was.

Whatever Mr. Keith Devers’s agenda was, he couldn’t know, either.

That was the one hard and fast rule she lived by. Every instinct warned her that it was the sole reason she and her son were both still alive.

Chapter Three

Keith admitted defeat at midnight. Fifteen minutes later he’d shed his shoes, jacket and tie and fallen across the bed in his hotel room.

He stared at his cell phone. He’d called Ben to find out what the hell had gone wrong with the trace, but the jury was still out on that issue. Ben had spouted off a couple of possibilities; both flew right over Keith’s head. Fact was, he didn’t really care what happened; he just didn’t want it to happen again and he needed to know the location from which Ashley Orrick had called. Now. This minute, no later than the next.

Was that too much to ask?

He blew out a disgusted breath. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. His first case in the field and problems were cropping up already.

Definitely not cool.

Hopefully he could make up for lost time tomorrow.

He’d researched Ashley Orrick’s past every which way possible. There wasn’t a damned iota of information on the woman or the child newer than eight years ago. Both had disappeared, seemingly fallen off the planet.

Yet, logic dictated that they were somewhere. Pure physics. Matter occupied space and all that jazz. All he had to do was flush the woman out of hiding and finding the kid would be a piece of cake after that. Chances were wherever Mommy went, the little boy went, too.

The question was, why hide the kid from his rich daddy? Was she afraid of the consequences of her actions ten years ago? She’d taken the money and ran. Big deal. Even if Van Valkenberg were of the mind to press charges, the statute of limitations had likely run out on her alleged crime.

What was she running from? The boy was Van Valkenberg’s biological child. Van Valkenberg was worth megamillions. Why walk away from that kind of security? Didn’t sound like gold digger tactics.

It didn’t make sense at all. If she was the scam artist, why ditch such a bountiful source of dough? She had the platinum card with the unlimited credit limit in that kid.

Keith shoved his fingers through his hair. He needed sleep. He would be able to think better after a few hours of shuteye. Maybe by then he’d hear from Ben with something on how the Orrick woman overrode the trace on the call her mother had made to her.

Maybe she was smarter than Van Valkenberg and his people had estimated. She was definitely cagier than Keith had anticipated.

He closed his eyes and tuned out the questions one by one. No more thinking. A few hours’ sleep would give him the clear head he needed for determining his next course of action.

The chirp of his cell phone disrupted the silence.

Keith sat up and blinked twice before the numbers on the clock became clear: 1:30 a.m. He grabbed the phone off the bedside table.

“Devers.”

“I think I’ve got it.”

Ben.

Keith scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m listening.”

“You see, she piggybacked her number on several others, bouncing around the Midwest ending up in South Bend. The technology isn’t anything new, but your average Joe, or Betty in this case, wouldn’t know about it. Not that it’s a problem to find it.” He laughed. “The needed gadgets are available right on the Internet. But her one mistake was in her post office box.”

“Her post office box?” Keith’s brow furrowed in confusion as he started to button his shirt. Somehow the conversation had jumped from cell phones to post office boxes and he didn’t quite follow. Maybe that hour of sleep had been just enough to ensure his brain staged a rebellion against waking up.

“Yeah. You see, you have to have a billing address. No billing address, no cell phone. Unless, of course, you’re using the pay-as-you-go kind and she isn’t. So, she used an alias and a post office box.”

Keith was just about to tell him to get to the point, when he went on, “Only problem is, when I hacked into the files—” Ben cleared his throat “—well, actually I had a contact who did the hacking. Anyway, she listed her physical residence. It’s required, like I said. Once I had that, I cross-referenced with the DMV. It’s her, all right. The hair’s different. The eyes, too, but there’s no question that Ashley Orrick is one and the same as Nola Childress.

“I don’t get it,” Ben said, sounding surprised or maybe a little disappointed his prey had fallen down on the point. “All she would have had to do was use someone else’s address. Simple. I’ll bet she—”

“Where is she, Ben?” Keith stood and shoved his feet into his shoes.

“Oh…ah…she’s in Waynesville, Missouri. You could be there by 7 a.m. if you leave now. I projected a route to her home address, calculated the distance and driving time. I sent it to your pocket PC.”

“Thanks, Ben.”

Keith closed his phone; otherwise, his colleague might go on forever. He did love to talk about gadgets and such. Keith glanced at the clock again. One hour’s sleep was better than none. He reached for his jacket and tie, surveyed the room to ensure he hadn’t forgotten anything and left.

In the car, he dragged the pocket PC from his jacket, downloaded and checked his final destination.

He had to admit she’d picked an excellent place to get lost.

But he had something she didn’t—Ben Haygood.

ASHLEY FORCED the orange juice past her lips. Her stomach quivered traitorously but she made herself drink for Jamie’s sake.

He carefully sat his juice glass on the table. “How long can you stay?”

She pushed a smile into place. “Just for today.” Her lips trembled in spite of her best efforts. God, she hated this.

He averted his dark gaze, choosing to stare at his uneaten eggs rather than his mother. He didn’t have to say anything. Ashley knew exactly what he was thinking. His mother’s visits grew farther and farther apart. Her excuses for the long absences were less and less creative. Each time it was more difficult to fool her extremely intelligent son. Pain twisted in her chest. How could she keep doing this to him?

But how could she risk otherwise?

“What would you like to do?” She pushed aside her untouched plate and clasped her hands atop the table. “You name it, baby, and we’ll spend the day making it happen. Just you and me.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten that. Ten-year-old boys didn’t like being called babies. “Sorry.”

He picked at his eggs. “I have chores.”

Ashley closed her eyes to hold back an onslaught of emotion. This wasn’t his fault. She couldn’t let him see how much his response hurt.

Since he’d started school, she’d left him in the care of her dear friend Marla Beck. Ashley had gone to elementary school with Marla, but they hadn’t seen each other since sixth grade. Ashley would always believe that God had led her to Springfield and back into Marla’s life. Marla had two small girls of her own, but she’d opened her home to Jamie in order to give him some much needed stability. Ashley couldn’t count on staying in one place long enough to facilitate his education. Dragging him around from school to school would only send up a red flag for anyone searching for the two of them. Leaving him with Marla was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, but it was the right thing to do.

Marla gave Jamie what she couldn’t. That thought tightened in her chest, pressed in around her heart. It was true. Here, in Marla’s home, he had the guarantee of waking up in the same bed each morning. A good school where he could bond with other boys and girls his age and develop lifelong friendships. Church on Sunday morning. All the right things a kid needed to grow up emotionally healthy and physically strong.

Ashley’s friend refused payment for her kindness. She accepted only what it took to keep Jamie in clothes and other necessary school or medical expenses. She was truly a fine person. She’d lost her husband to an automobile accident several years ago, but he’d left her financially secure, enabling her to be a stay-at-home mom. Marla insisted this was the least she could do for Jamie and Ashley. Ashley was pretty sure it had more to do with how much she cared for Jamie than anything else. Ashley and Marla wanted their children to have the same kind of happy childhood they’d both enjoyed.

“I could help you do your chores first,” Ashley offered. She wanted to grab him and hold him close. To beg him to forgive her for the mistakes she’d made. To plead with him to love her the way he used to when a few hugs and kisses could make up for most anything. But first and foremost, she had to respect his feelings. This couldn’t be about her.

He shrugged. “I guess that’d be okay.”

“All right!” She couldn’t hide her excitement.

“First, we have to clean up the table.” He said this with the slightest glimmer of enthusiasm.

“Okay.” She hoped he didn’t hear the quiver of her voice in that one word. It hurt so bad to watch him hold back like this…afraid to love his own mother. Afraid to count on her the way a child should be able to count on his parent.

She helped her son scrape the plates and put them in the dishwasher, along with their glasses and silverware. They wiped the table together and checked to make sure nothing had been forgotten, such as leaving the milk on the counter.

“Now what?” She looked to him for direction. Let him lead.

“I have to make my bed.” He scratched his head. “I forgot that earlier. Ms. Marla told me you were here and I…forgot.”

Ashley’s heart leapt. He’d heard she was here and he’d gotten excited enough to forget part of his routine. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

“I’m pretty handy at making beds.”

He nodded. “I remember.”

Her heart so heavy she could scarcely breathe, she followed her son up the stairs to the room Marla had kindly decorated in a NASCAR theme just for him. Together, they made the bed and tidied his room.

He showed her his newest models. The tedious work of putting together the model cars was his favorite hobby. While some kids played their video games and watched endless hours of television, Jamie would rather build models than eat when he was hungry. Maybe getting lost in the exacting work was his way of dealing with the hit-and-run visits of his mother.

When he’d finished showing off his latest handiwork, Jamie looked up at his mom and said, “You wanna see my final report card?”

She’d forgotten to look at it last time. He’d told her all about it, but she’d had to go before they’d gotten around to reviewing it together the way they usually did. She’d felt immensely guilty about that. He hadn’t mentioned it again when she’d called him night after night or even when she’d returned for a day here and there. His silence told her how disappointed he was. Though school had been out for more than a month, the oversight obviously still nagged at him.

They sat on the bed, side by side, and he went over each subject, reciting what he liked about it and what he didn’t. Whatever his preference, he always kept an A average.

Ashley felt her spirits soar as she listened to her son talk about the girl who’d chased after him the last couple of weeks of school. Thankfully, he hadn’t had any trouble with bullies this year. Maybe that talk they’d had about him standing up for himself had done the trick. He’d listened well and done a great job handling any situation that arose without crossing the line into the same sort of aggressive behavior himself.

Something inside Ashley stilled, withered just a little as her eyes roved over the final section of the report card with her son’s name on it. At the end of each reporting period in the space indicated for the parent’s signature, Marla had signed her name.

Of course she had. She was Jamie’s legal guardian.

Ashley had known this particular task would fall under her friend’s duties. As were so many other everyday, little things that many mothers took for granted.

Like checking behind his ears after he bathed. Or ensuring that his homework was done. Tucking him in at night. All the things she used to do.

Needing to get past the moment she ruffled his hair, the way she used to when he was about five. He ducked away. But she understood the gesture wasn’t about her touch. Her child was growing up on her. And she was missing most of it.

“I think such a stellar report card deserves a really special treat. What do you say we go to Brewster’s and have one of their triple-decker ice cream cones?”

His face turned serious, that dark gaze settling fully on hers. “Do you have to leave today? Can’t you stay just one night?”

This was the moment she had dreaded even before she’d arrived at Marla’s home. Knowing that question would come had haunted her the entire trip from Waynesville to Springfield.

“You know I’d give anything to stay,” she offered softly, struggling to keep her voice even. “But it’s too risky. The bad men could find you and then they’d take you away and I might never see you again.” She’d told him this story a million times. The idea had always terrified him, but not nearly as much as it terrified her. She knew too well just how true it was.

“Sometimes I think I’m never going to see you again anyway.” His gaze dropped to his lap where his hands rested as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. “It feels like forever when you’re gone.”

The bottom dropped out of Ashley’s stomach, leaving an emptiness that instantly began to swell with crushing intensity. “You’re safe with Marla, Jamie. As much as I miss you, I’m willing to sacrifice my own feelings to ensure you’re always safe.”

His eyes locked with hers once more. “What about my feelings? What if I want things to be the way they used to be? I don’t care about the bad men. I just want to be with you.”

The crack in her heart widened, sending a searing pain through her that took her breath away. “I know, sweetie. But we have to be very careful. You don’t understand how bad these men are.”

He stared up at her, his eyes fierce with determination. “I won’t let them hurt you, Mommy. I’ll protect you.”

She hugged him, fought back the tears. “Everything is going to be all right, Jamie. I swear.”

She didn’t know how, but she had to find a way to end this once and for all. But, God, she didn’t have any idea where to begin. She couldn’t depend upon the courts. She had no money for high-powered attorneys. Desmond would have the best…the absolute top in their fields. He would pay off the judge. He would win no matter what. And she would lose.

Fear shuddered through her. Just then, she did something she had never once in all these years done. She prayed that maybe Desmond was on his deathbed. As evil as he was, she had never wished him ill, only that he would leave her and her son alone. But today, as she held her unhappy child so close, she wished with all her heart that the bastard would die and go straight to hell where he belonged.

THAT NIGHT as Ashley helped clean up the kitchen after dinner, she watched her son play cards with Marla’s daughters. At moments like this, he looked happy. He really did. Or was she fooling herself?

She paused, her hand stilling on the plate she was drying. “Is he like this most of the time?” Smiling, laughing, working hard to beat the girls at whatever game they were playing?

Marla leaned against the counter, her own work of putting away the dishes Ashley had dried momentarily on hold. “Yeah. Most of the time. Once in a while, I’ll catch him acting a little down or distant. Not so often.”

Ashley told herself that her friend’s answer made her feel better, but did it? If her son was happy most of the time, did that mean he was getting used to his mother’s absences? If she simply never came back, would he be better off? Be happier? An ache went through her making her breath catch. She couldn’t do that.

“Ashley, listen to me.” Marla took the plate and dish towel and set them aside. She took Ashley’s hands in hers. “Your son loves you more than anything in this world. Not a day passes that he doesn’t mention you.”

She nodded. “I know. I guess I’m just feeling…” She shrugged. “I don’t know…a little more desperate than usual, maybe.”

Marla squeezed her hands. “Of course you are. You’re watching your son grow up from a distance. It’s hell on you.”

“But I know he’s in good hands,” Ashley assured, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “It’s just that I wonder how long we can keep this up.”

“Trust yourself, Ashley. Trust your faith. God’s looking out for you and your son.”

Ashley hugged her dear, dear friend and then she did the hardest thing of all, she said goodbye to her son…again.

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