by Debra Webb
Then she’d learned the truth about her charming, distinguished, older man, who she had thought was her own personal knight in shining armor. He was addicted to every imaginable sexual perversion. He did a stellar job of keeping the ugly truth hidden. That was his reason for always having a young, beautiful woman like Ashley on his arm. From all appearances, he was a highly sought-after bachelor who had his pick of available women. No one bothered to look beyond that perfect picture.
Until it was too late.
Not that he’d let anyone. That was his reason for being so reclusive. The press couldn’t report on what they didn’t know.
She shuddered as she recalled the night she’d stumbled onto his collection of videos. It wasn’t as if she’d been looking for trouble. She’d simply been bored.
The first few months they’d lived together, she had been Desmond’s total focus. He’d spent every possible moment with her, had showered her with his attention and lavished her with gifts.
Then everything had changed, slowly at first, then blatantly. Most nights, he never even bothered to come home. There was always some business that kept him away. Especially after he’d learned she was pregnant. He’d scarcely touched her after that.
So she’d occupied herself in whatever ways she could find. Her boredom had sparked a need to explore one time too many and she’d found his secret room with its leather restraints and stark, steel cages.
Her questions had all been answered by the videos. Dozens upon dozens of documented recordings of his disgusting deviance.
She’d tried so hard to pretend she didn’t know. To act as if nothing had changed. But he must have known somehow. The tension had been almost unbearable for months. Then their child had been born. Soon afterward, he’d persuaded her to return to his bed. A tremendous mistake. One night he’d lured her to that place where he played out his sick pleasures. She’d barely survived. The marks on her throat where he’d choked her had taken days to fade. He’d taunted her afterward telling her that if she ever told anyone she would only be setting herself up for ridicule since she was now one of his many filmed conquests. He knew people who could take his face out of the video and add anyone. The performance could end up on the Internet. And she could end up dead, he’d reminded her.
Knowing his secret perversion, staying with him had been tough enough when she had been pregnant. She’d wanted to leave but her pregnancy had been a high-risk one. Extreme care had been required to ensure she carried the baby to term. Any attempts to escape him would have prompted physical and emotional stresses she couldn’t have risked.
So she waited for just the right moment. And when Desmond least expected it, she’d run.
She hadn’t stopped running since.
Ashley shook off the haunting memories and made the turn onto her street. She had to get her head back on straight if she intended to protect Jamie this time. No falling down on the job.
She glanced at her dash and noted that her gas tank was almost empty. Instead of driving to her little rented bungalow, she made the next right and headed back into town. She’d learned a long time ago never to go to bed at night with her gas tank nearly on empty. She never knew when she might have to make a run for it in the middle of the night. A full tank of gas stacked the deck a little more in her favor.
When she’d fueled up, she grabbed a bottle of water, paid the cashier and headed home.
It was past midnight. She had work tomorrow. She opened the bottle and took a long sip. Her throat was dry from too many tears and too much worry.
She was so tired of running.
As she turned back onto her quiet street, she wished again, that somehow, she could end this nightmare.
Chapter Four
It was past midnight.
Keith shook his head.
Where the hell was she? He’d been sitting here since nine that morning and nothing. He’d gotten out a couple of times and walked around the block to consider her small house from all sides. Since there was no vehicle in the drive and, according to Ben, she owned and presumably drove a black, twelve-year-old sedan, Keith doubted she was home.
He’d checked with a couple of her neighbors, pretending to be an insurance claims representative. The two he’d talked to knew basically nothing about Ashley, or Nola Childress as they called her. However, one did have information about where she worked since he shopped at the convenience store. Keith had gone by the store and she hadn’t been there, either. He hadn’t asked the clerk about Ashley’s schedule to prevent the possibility of her being alerted to his presence.
He’d just about given up hope on her returning home that night when headlights bobbed at the far end of her street. He’d parked half a block from her house on the opposite side of the thoroughfare.
As the vehicle came nearer the size and color grew more visible. Black, four-door sedan.
His pulse quickened as the vehicle slowed and made the turn into the drive belonging to one Nola Childress, aka Ashley Orrick.
He watched her get out of the car. The hair was darker, an auburn maybe. According to Ben, the DMV showed her eyes to be brown, which was, of course, inaccurate. She wore jeans and a peach-colored blouse. She appeared alert to her surroundings as she moved up the sidewalk to her home. She unlocked the front door and went inside.
Lights glowed to life and he watched her silhouette cross in front of a couple of windows.
Keith opted not to carry his weapon, locking it in the glove box for safekeeping instead. The presence of a weapon would only add to the tension of the confrontation to come. He didn’t consider her a threat physically so he saw no reason to go in armed.
As he was about to get out of his car, his cell phone vibrated and he fished it out of his pocket. “Devers.”
“She just made a call to her mother.”
Ben.
“Are they still talking?”
“Yeah. She’s pretty much giving her a rundown on her day. She went to see her cousin and he’s doing fine. Just so you know, she doesn’t have a cousin.”
Her son. She’d spent the day with her son. Keith’s appearance at her mother’s home had obviously spooked her. “They still talking?” He got out of his car and closed the door quietly behind him.
“Just hung up. She mentioned she didn’t have to go back to work until the day after tomorrow.”
Keith scanned the dark yards and houses on either side of his target’s home. “Anything else?”
“Nope. I’ll call you if there’s anything new.”
Keith ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket. He considered the conversation between Ashley and her mother. She was wrong. She wouldn’t be going back to work the day after tomorrow. She had a command performance in Chicago and it was his job to make sure she showed.
Thankfully, no dogs started to bark as he walked the short distance to Ashley Orrick’s small yard. He’d had a lot of time today to study her home. Though it was small, it was well kept. He imagined the recent exterior paint job was more about a good landlord than her desire to keep the place in shape. If her mother’s home was any indication, any money the two were able to pool went to taking care of her son or was saved for financing her next escape in the event she was found rather than on household maintenance.
The car she drove indicated she didn’t spend frivolously. There was nothing fancy about it. A definite budget model and well past its prime.
He wondered at that. As a younger woman, Ashley had moved into the home of a billionaire, had lived lavishly there for a year, during which time she produced his child. She abruptly disappeared and had since lived, seemingly, on the edge of poverty. It just didn’t add up.
Of course it could be due to her alleged theft, but somehow that just didn’t feel right. From what he’d learned about Ashley Orrick thus far, she was nobody’s fool. Not by a long shot. The woman was very intelligent. There had to be a strong motivation for the decisions she’d made.
His curiosity had nag
ged at him since receiving this assignment. But it wasn’t his job to understand why Ashley had taken the child, as well as the money, and run. His only concern was ensuring that Mr. Van Valkenberg had the opportunity to see his son.
The law provided for certain rights of the biological father. Ashley had to know that. Whatever her reasons for running, she had to come to terms with that undeniable truth. Van Valkenberg wanted nothing else from her.
Keith hoped convincing her of that fact wouldn’t be too unpleasant for either of them. She seemed like a nice enough lady who perhaps was operating under some sort of misconceptions regarding the ex-boyfriend she’d lived with.
He slipped into the shadows at the side of her house away from the street light. She’d turned on the television; the sounds of a familiar network news channel filtered through the walls. A telephone rang. Didn’t sound like a cell phone. Probably her land line. She answered. He listened for a minute or so more before he moved cautiously onto the narrow covered porch.
He waited until she’d hung up and then, cell phone in hand, he entered the land line number for Nola Childress. The phone inside the house rang again. Once, then twice.
“Hello.”
Even through the protective walls of her rented home he could hear the trepidation in her voice. He pressed the End Call button as he simultaneously knocked on the front door.
When she didn’t answer right away, he said loudly enough for her to hear his words clearly through the still closed door, “Ashley Orrick, I know you’re in there. We need to talk. The matter is extremely urgent.” For leverage, he tacked on, “I don’t want to have to involve the police.”
He braced himself for the shuffle of her running footsteps but the sound never came. Rather, the tumble of the lock being disengaged echoed and an overhead light pierced the darkness on the porch.
The door swung inward and determined brown eyes stared up at him. “Who are you?”
“I think you know who I am.” No point in reciting information she already knew.
“I don’t know how you found me, but your efforts have been wasted.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I know what you told my mother. I’m certain that isn’t the whole story.”
He gestured to the room beyond her position on the threshold. “May I come in? You don’t have to worry, it’s just me. No one’s going to jump out of the bushes and try to ambush you while I have you distracted.”
“I’m aware that you’re alone.” She stepped back for him to enter. “My neighbor just called and warned me that you’d been lurking around my neighborhood all day. He’s probably watching right now. He won’t forget your description or your license plate number, so this had better be legit.”
He shrugged, not really surprised. It was a small community. Folks watched out for each other in close-knit neighborhoods. Not to mention a woman on the run would take precautions. But he’d had to try. “I guess I wasn’t as convincing as I thought.”
She didn’t comment, just closed the door. As her hands fell to her sides, he noted that one fist was closed around a small bottle of pepper spray.
“What does he want?” she asked, keeping whatever she felt closely guarded.
At least she didn’t beat around the bush when push came to shove. “Let’s sit,” he suggested hopefully, with a pointed glance at her weapon, “and talk about this calmly.”
For a second or two she held her ground, then strode to the sofa and sat down. “Talk,” she said as he chose the chair directly across from her.
“Mr. Van Valkenberg is not a well man,” he said, getting right to the heart of the matter. He needed her cooperative, the best way to do that, he decided, was to give her some good news first. Since she obviously despised Van Valkenberg, his poor health would fall into that category. “He wants to know his son before—” he paused for emphasis and to weigh any reaction “—it’s too late.”
Like her mother, those assessing eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you telling me that he’s dying?”
Keith had to work at not getting distracted by the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. The darker hair color only served to emphasize the trait that made her look far younger than her true age. He wondered how her eyes would look without the brown contacts. The vivid green in the old photographs he’d seen was a sharp contrast to this ordinary, everyday color she’d chosen as a part of her disguise. She must have gotten those from her father. Her mother’s eyes had been gray.
Shifting his attention back to her question, he hedged somewhat in his answer, “He’s very ill. That’s all I’m at liberty to tell you at this time. He wishes to know his son and prepare him for his inheritance.”
Her response to his explanation was the last thing he expected. She laughed. Long and loud.
He couldn’t exactly call the sound unpleasant. Her laugh was rich and vibrant. It was the motivation behind the lapse in decorum that frustrated him, or maybe it surprised him. He hadn’t taken her for such a coldhearted woman.
“You really expect me to believe that he cares about his son one way or the other? This is a new tactic, for sure.”
Whatever she expected him to say to that, he could only answer with what he knew. “According to Mr. Van Valkenberg’s representative, finding his son is his top priority. And his poor state of health is no laughing matter.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed to her feet. “There is no way I’m telling you where my son is. So don’t waste any more of your time. This meeting is over.”
Keith stood, uncertain exactly what he’d said to rally this kind of reaction. Wasn’t she interested in her son’s financial future? “I’m not sure I understand the problem. We haven’t discussed terms.”
“There’s nothing to discuss, Mr. Devers. You don’t know Desmond Van Valkenberg. You’ve never even met him. Whatever his minion told you is a lie. I’m not letting him near my son. Now, I’d like you to go. And don’t bother relaying my address to your client. I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
A man couldn’t ask for a woman to be any more straight forward than that. As frustrating as it was, he couldn’t help admiring her strength.
“Then you leave me no choice.” He reached into his interior jacket pocket for his cell phone. When she readied her can of spray, he showed her what was in his hand. “It’s just a phone.”
She relaxed marginally.
Not for long, he mused as he entered Ben’s number. He might not be at the office but the guy wasn’t married, so it wasn’t as if Keith would wake up anyone else who might have gone to bed already. And he needed a second party to pull off this bluff.
When Ben answered, Keith said, “You’ll need to awaken Mr. Brody and have him call me immediately. I need to give him an update on the situation.” He ignored Ben’s confused questions. “No, I’m afraid she refuses to cooperate.” Keith hesitated. “Five minutes. Yes. I’ll stand by.”
When he closed the phone and dropped it back into his pocket, he allowed his full attention to return to the woman waiting two feet in front of him. All signs of cockiness had vanished. She looked seriously worried and just a little afraid.
“What’re you doing?”
Now was the moment. He needed her to see that there was no other choice. He needed that inkling of fear he saw in her eyes to morph into something that would prod her into cooperating.
“My orders are to bring you back to Chicago so that you and Mr. Van Valkenberg may discuss the issue of your son. If you refuse, I’m to provide your location and keep you under surveillance until he arrives.”
Her posture stiffened slightly. “You’re going to tell him where I am? He’s coming here?”
“When Mr. Van Valkenberg’s representative returns my call, I’m to give the location directly to him and no one else.” He’d made that part up, but she didn’t need to know.
“And if I run?” she asked, the wheels in her head turning frantically now. She realized her predicament. The ramifications played out in the genuine fe
ar swiftly overtaking her expression.
“I’ll follow you, keeping that representative abreast of your location every step of the way.”
“My son isn’t here,” she challenged. “It won’t do him any good to come here.”
“But you’re here,” he countered. “And I’m certain you know where your son is. That’s as far as my job goes. Apparently Mr. Van Valkenberg believes his people can handle the rest.”
Her entire demeanor changed then. Keith wasn’t exactly surely what part of his statement had made the difference but something had.
“I’m not giving you anything. I’ll talk to Desmond face-to-face, but first I have to pack a bag.”
The sudden about-face startled him.
When she turned to go to her room, he tagged along. “You won’t mind if I keep you company.”
It wasn’t a question. She understood that.
He followed her to her room. After setting the can of pepper spray aside, she dragged a well used overnight bag from her closet and tossed a change of clothes inside. His cell phone rang and he told Ben the two of them were returning to Chicago shortly. For once, Ben was speechless. Maybe Keith’s quick work surprised him.
Keith watched her wander about the room, gathering the usual items one would take on a trip away from home. He observed that she hadn’t changed much, as the age progression results indicated. Still slender. Her hair hung down her back, shifted around her shoulders with her movements. Her hands shook once or twice, movements that tugged at his protective instincts. Long, delicate fingers and dainty wrists gave her a vulnerable appearance, but he sensed that she was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked. No matter how much strength she displayed, the situation made him feel a little like the bad guy.
She went into the bath directly across the hall, mumbling something about removing her contacts. He took a moment to covertly check her purse and to install a minor security measure before joining her. He loitered in the doorway of the modest-sized bathroom. Her gaze met his in the mirror and those vivid green eyes added another layer of uneasiness to his already growing discomfort.