The Hidden Heir. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ