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“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.
