The Hero's Son. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ Valerie had tried to hide from her past; from the shame and self-doubt that were almost consuming at times. She was the daughter of an infamous kidnapper who had taken the life of a child. What did that make her? Cletus Brown’s blood ran in her veins. Was she like him in any way? Was she, herself, capable of violence?

      For over thirty years, Valerie had never allowed herself to become close to anyone. She’d never had any friends to speak of, had never gotten involved in a serious relationship. She’d told herself it was because she was too busy building a career, but deep down, she’d always known it was because she was afraid that the terrible names people had called her in the past—the awful things they’d screamed at her when her father had been arrested—were true. That she was tainted, the offspring of a monster.

      Only in her dreams had her father remained an innocent man. Only in her dreams was the real villain the man with the cold, black eyes. A man Valerie had never been able to forget.

      For over thirty years, Sergeant Colter had haunted her sleep.

      But it wasn’t until after her mother’s death, when Valerie had found her mother’s diary hidden away among a cache of newspaper clippings and books about the Kingsley kidnapping, along with mementos from their former life, that Valerie had finally understood why she’d never been able to forget Sergeant Colter.

      Her instincts about him had been right. He was an evil man who had set her father up. He’d made her father take the fall for a crime he hadn’t committed. Cletus Brown was an innocent man.

      Valerie’s mother had gone to her grave still believing in him. They hadn’t left Memphis because Grace Brown thought her husband guilty, but because she was afraid for her daughter’s safety. There were men in Memphis, powerful men, who were willing to kill to keep Cletus Brown behind bars. To keep the truth from coming out.

      And so Violet and Grace Brown had disappeared, and Cletus had gone silently to prison where he had remained for the past thirty-one years.

      As Valerie had read her mother’s diary that afternoon, it had become crystal clear to her what she must do. She would prove to the world that her father was innocent. She would free him from prison, and in so doing, free herself from the awful burden of guilt she had carried with her for almost her entire life.

      The very next day, Valerie had quit her job at the Chicago Sun-Times, sent her résumé to the Memphis Journal, packed up a few of her belongings, along with her mother’s diary and the box of mementos, and headed for Memphis, her birthplace, searching for truth, justice, and maybe, if she were honest with herself, a little revenge.

      And now it’s come to this, she thought, still trying to fight the hold the drug had on her.

      She’d known from the first that the series of articles she’d planned about the Kingsley kidnapping wouldn’t go over well with a lot of powerful people in this city. The reputations of three well-respected men were all at stake, and she’d known they wouldn’t take her accusations lying down.

      The Kingsley kidnapping had affected a lot of people, and when the truth finally came out, lives would be ruined.

      But one life would be saved.

      And that was the only one that could be allowed to matter, Valerie thought, as she closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the medication.

      THE DREAM WAS ALWAYS the same. Her name was Violet again, and she was back in that tiny house in southeast Memphis, watching through the crack in her bedroom door. She heard her mother scream, saw her father collapse to the floor, and then the big man turned and looked at Violet. Looked at her with those cold, black eyes.

      The devil’s eyes.

      Violet tried to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to shrink away, but couldn’t move. She was trapped, mesmerized by a gaze so dark and evil, she felt herself sinking into those bottomless depths from which she knew there would be no escape.

      But she had to try. She had to try and save herself. She had to try and save her father.

      Because if she didn’t, no one else would.

      Violet fought her way up from the black pit. She struggled to free herself from the terror that claimed her, night after night.

      As she finally reached the surface, the terror gave way to confusion, and Violet slowly became Valerie. But then she opened her eyes to find the devil himself staring down at her.

      CHAPTER TWO

      VALERIE GASPED and sprang up in bed.

      “Take it easy. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice was deep and rich, not in the least threatening, but shivers scurried up Valerie’s spine. He reached out to ease her back against the pillows, but Valerie shrank away from him. “I’m Sergeant Colter,” he said.

      What did one say to one’s nightmare?

      “Valerie Snow,” she managed, clutching the sheet to her breast.

      After her initial shock began to subside, Valerie realized who he must be. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier? He had to be Judd Colter’s son because he was the spitting image of his father as he had looked thirty-one years ago when he’d stormed into a tiny home in southeast Memphis and changed three lives forever.

      The resemblance almost took Valerie’s breath away.

      She found herself staring up at him, studying his face longer than she should have, trying to analyze him with a reporter’s eye for detail.

      There were subtle differences, she decided. He wasn’t exactly like his father. At least, not physically.

      He was just as tall, but leaner than Judd Colter had been. His hair was just as dark, but he didn’t wear it in a military style like his father had. The thick strands brushed against his shirt collar, gleaming blue-black in the harsh fluorescent lighting.

      His features were more even than his father’s. And more handsome, Valerie thought, startled to feel the quiver of butterflies in her stomach.

      Oh, yes, there were definitely differences, but one thing remained the same: his eyes were just as dark and just as cold as his father’s.

      Valerie shivered and tried to look away. “What do you want?”

      “I need to talk to you.”

      Reluctantly she met his gaze. “What about?”

      One dark brow rose in surprise. Or was it condescension? “You’ve made a pretty serious accusation, Ms. Snow. Or have you forgotten?”

      At first, she thought he was talking about her article, then she realized he meant the incident with the bus. “You mean when I said someone tried to kill me?”

      Something flashed in his dark eyes. Something Valerie couldn’t quite define. “You didn’t say that exactly. You said you were pushed.”

      She forced a harsh laugh. “Semantics, Sergeant Colter.”

      “Hardly. Even if you were pushed, it could have been an accident.”

      “Even if?” Valerie glared up at him. “I said I was pushed, and I was. And I think СКАЧАТЬ