The Hidden Heir

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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.