The Hidden Heir. Debra Webb

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      “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 СКАЧАТЬ