by Debra Webb
“I guess I’m ready.”
Her voice cracked a little, but she jutted her chin in defiance. Again, he had to admire her courage.
“Excellent.”
She brushed past him on her way back into the bedroom and a feeling of regret washed over him. He shoved it away, had no intention of going there. She was the one who’d broken the law. More than one, if you counted depriving a father of his son. There was no place for sympathy here.
With her purse slung onto her shoulder, can of pepper spray inside, she reached for the overnight bag but he grabbed it first.
“My car is across the street and up the block a bit.”
She nodded and led the way from the room. He took the same route, mentally kicked himself for noticing how nice her backside looked in those jeans. But then, he was only human.
With the lights out and the door locked they crossed the yard in silence. At the street, he said, “The gray sedan just over there.”
She headed in that direction without comment. He dug for his keys and, using the remote, unlocked the doors. She slid into the passenger seat while he tossed her bag onto the backseat. He settled behind the wheel and started the engine.
ASHLEY REMAINED SILENT as he drove along her street away from the home she’d managed to hang on to for almost a year now. It wasn’t that she would particularly miss the place, but she had enjoyed the stability for a change. Before Waynesville, her longest stint in a town had been six months.
Oh, well. Maybe that had been her mistake this time. She’d stayed put too long. Now she would pay the price.
She’d had just enough time after her neighbor called to stomp each of her three cell phones and hide them in the toilet tank. If they were ever found, she doubted if anyone could retrieve the numbers she had called. They had apparently already tracked her through her call to her mother. She could live with that. But she couldn’t risk anyone getting their hands on Marla’s number. That cell had actually been purchased in Marla’s name, to prevent exactly what had most likely happened tonight.
She glanced at her hired escort. He had no idea whom he was dealing with. He obviously considered Mr. Van Valkenberg a nice man who’d been done wrong by his gold-digging ex-girlfriend. Ashley doubted there was much chance of changing this guy’s opinion of her or his client. That left her only one option.
Escape.
She’d thought about spraying him back at her house and making a run for it. But that would have been a wasted effort. He had the make of her car and likely the license plate number. Tracking her down in her vehicle would be a cinch. Nope. She’d have to do something he wasn’t expecting. Soon. She didn’t want him to get her out of the state of Missouri. Thankfully, she had backup in place very close by.
There were some things she could rely on in Illinois but not so much as here. A feeling of bleakness settled over her. Maybe she’d put down deeper roots than she’d realized. She hadn’t meant to.
Maybe she was just tired. Or older. Whatever the case, her relationship with Waynesville ended today. She could never come back.
The idea that her son resided in Springfield, less than two hours away, made her chest hurt. When would she be able to see him again? Even if she escaped today, she couldn’t risk going to Jamie for at least several weeks. She would need new phones. Everything would have to change. Again.
That realization cut to the bone. She hated Desmond Van Valkenberg. She hoped he was dying. It couldn’t be soon enough for her.
She told herself she should feel guilty for thinking it, but she couldn’t…wouldn’t. He was a monster. No way was she going to let him get his hands on her son.
She would die first.
In the event she disappeared, Marla knew exactly what to do. She was to continue raising Jamie as if he were her own son.
Ashley blinked back the tears. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of never seeing her son again. She loved him more than life. But she would deny herself the privilege of spending time with him if that was what it took to protect him.
“Have you eaten?”
Her attention shifted from the dark road ahead to the driver. Was he crazy? She was sitting here worried sick about her son and he wanted to know if she had eaten? Not to mention it was the middle of the night.
“Just drive, Mr. Devers.” At least until he reached the exit she needed.
He didn’t say anything else. She took a few moments to study him as he focused on driving. Why would Desmond send such a seemingly nice guy to bring her back? He usually dealt with thugs. This was a change of pace for him. Perhaps the concept of his mortality had softened him, though she seriously doubted that.
If by some stroke of bad luck she was unable to escape from this guy, that would be the one good thing about having to face Desmond again—laughing in his face if he truly was dying.
Ashley closed her eyes and leaned against the headrest. How had she gotten to this place? How could she relish the idea of a man’s, any man’s, imminent death? Hatred? Fear? She turned to the window and peered out into the darkness. Fear. She hated Desmond for what he’d done to her. She hated so many things about him, but she didn’t wish him dead for his cruelty toward her. She wished him dead because she was scared of what he might do to her son.
How could she make people see that? Those who associated with Desmond on a professional level considered him above reproach. Just recently, she’d read about his generous donation to Chicago’s Children’s Hospital. How could anyone regard such a generous man any other way?
She turned her head just far enough to watch Keith Devers. He probably thought she was the worst kind of loser. A woman who’d used sex to gain entrance into a rich man’s world. Then she’d disappeared, taking a major asset—the child—with her, depriving the father of his only son.
Oh, yeah. She was the villain. That would be Mr. Devers’s opinion.
Whatever he thought of her, he was easy on the eyes. She almost laughed at herself for even allowing the thought. It had been so long since she’d looked at a man as anything but the enemy. It wasn’t fair, she knew, but she just hadn’t been able to trust any man since Desmond.
He’d damaged her heart too badly.
Devers sensed her watching him. He shoved a hand through his hair subconsciously. He had nice hair. Blond. Natural blond. Very tan. As Gina said, he had great blue eyes, too. Totally opposite from Desmond’s dark features.
He tugged at his tie, again indicating his discomfort with her staring at him. His suit was a little rumpled. He’d hung out around her house all day, had probably driven all night the night before. He had to be exhausted. That would be to her benefit.
The upcoming exit number snagged her attention. This was the one.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
He glanced at her, startled. “Now?”
“I can’t hold it any longer. I’ve gotta go.”
His brow furrowed. The light from the dash provided sufficient light for her to see his frustrated reaction. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a smile of triumph. Poor guy. He had no idea that he was about to make a huge mistake.
She’d done this too many times. Moved from town to town, always planning her backup strategy very carefully. He didn’t stand a chance.
Not only did she lay out her escape routes with extreme caution, she also regularly checked each one. A girl never knew when a gas station or convenience store would shut down. She had to be smart, had to stay one step ahead of the enemy to survive. It helped that the owner of the convenience store where she worked owned several, one on each major route leaving Waynesville. And she knew them all.
“Stop there.” She pointed to the upcoming all-night convenience store with its brightly lit neon sign and isolated islands of gas pumps. “This place’ll be fine.”
He parked in the lot. “I’ll be right behind you,” he warned as he opened his car door.
“Of course,” she said. She hadn’t expected otherwise. He wouldn’t ri
sk letting her get away.
Just as he promised, he followed her into the store, checked the ladies’ room, and waited right next to the door while she went inside and did her business. It was almost too easy.
She wondered how long he would wait before coming inside to find out what was keeping her.
Then again, it really didn’t matter because she’d be long gone.
Chapter Five
From his position propped against the wall next to the ladies’ room door, Keith watched the customers go about their business inside the gas station’s convenience store. Most came in for cigarettes and beer, as well to pay for their gas.
Thankfully, no one paid any particular attention to him. He considered fueling up since they’d stopped. He could do that when he had Ashley Orrick safely tucked back into the car. No way would he risk letting her out of his sight. Beyond the ladies’ room, anyway.
He glanced at his watch. Three minutes. She’d been in there long enough to relieve herself. Her cell phone hadn’t been in her purse, so she couldn’t be attempting to make a call. Still, he didn’t like giving her this much time outside his line of vision.
He gave a quick rap on the door. “What’s taking so long in there?” He waited for a response. Ten seconds later, the answering silence sent his pulse into triple time.
He twisted the knob and pushed against the door. Locked. Swearing under his breath, he strode over to the counter, keeping one eye on the door. “I’m going to need a key to the ladies’ room.” Kicking in the door would only prompt the attendant to call the police and he didn’t need that kind of trouble.
The man behind the counter stared at him with a “yeah, right” expression. The clerk shook his head. “Don’t waste your time, buddy. If she ain’t answering the door, she probably climbed out the window.”
Keith frowned. “What window? I looked in there before she went in. There was no window.”
His shiny bald head hitched in the direction of the locked door. “You saw the utility rack holding the toilet paper and paper towels?”
Keith nodded. “Against the far wall next to the sink.”
The clerk smirked. “We put it there to hide the window. Keeps ’em from taking merchandise in the bathroom and going out the window with it. The owner keeps saying he’s gonna close it up, but he don’t. I guess your friend’s been here before.”
Keith was out the door before the man finished his last smug statement. Sure enough, at the back of the building, a window leading into the ladies’ room had been opened.
Swearing at himself for falling for her trick, he yanked out his handheld computer and logged onto the tracking software Ben had downloaded for him. A map of the area flickered onto the screen and then a blinking red cursor monitored his target’s movements.
As long as she didn’t ditch her purse, he was good to go. Looked like that security measure he’d put into place had paid off after all.
When he’d rounded up the flashlight from the trunk of his car and his weapon from the glove box, he headed into the woods behind the station. He didn’t worry about her point of entry. He had the coordinates of her current location, all he had to do was close in on that mark. And not break his neck stumbling through the woods in the damned dark.
He mentally kicked himself a few more times. She had to know this area damn well to attempt this route in the dark. He should have realized when she surrendered so easily that she was up to something. Instead, he’d foolishly hoped that somehow during the long drive back to Chicago he could talk her into divulging the whereabouts of her son and saving everyone a lot of trouble.
Fat chance.
He paused long enough to determine where she might be headed if she continued on her current course and his best estimate was a small community called St. Robert’s between Waynesville and the military base Ft. Leonard Wood. A ten- to twelve-mile trek through dense forest, the first four or five miles at a steadily inclining grade.
She moved far faster than him, another indication that she knew the route. She had to be on a trail of some sort. Maybe an old hunting route. He was certain she didn’t have a flashlight, unless she’d had one of those hidden in that convenience store bathroom, too.
His best bet would be to take a few minutes and attempt to find the trail in hopes of facilitating his advancement. Otherwise—he swore when a branch he released too soon smacked him in the face—he was going to have to fight nature the entire route.
Ten minutes later he discovered the narrow path that cut through the ever-thickening underbrush. She’d gained a sizable advantage over him by then, but he would recover the lost ground. He broke into a steady jog. He couldn’t risk a dead run, considering the trail took unexpected turns and dips and tree limbs and bushes extended across the trail in places.
Each time a tree limb slapped him, he thought of a new way to make his target pay.
All he had to do was catch her.
ASHLEY STOPPED to catch her breath. It would be daylight soon. She was almost there…maybe another hundred yards. The zigzagging route she’d taken had kept her well ahead of her pursuer. But she knew he was out there. She could feel him coming.
She leaned against the trunk of a tree and closed her eyes. She thought of her son and how disappointed he would be when she couldn’t come to see him this weekend. Her only promise had been that she would try, but he would cling to that as if she’d given a solemn vow.
God, she hated Desmond for doing this to them.
Her eyes popped open and she stilled, listened intently. Devers had almost caught up with her once. She’d been surprised that, wearing a suit of all things, he could track her so well in the dark and across un familiar terrain.
And then she’d realized. He’d probably put some sort of device in her purse. She might not be a cop or federal agent, but she’d watched enough television and movies to understand the technology they used.
So she’d taken one necessary item from her purse and she’d tossed the bag into a ravine. That bag, like every other thing in her life—except her son, of course—was expendable.
Her muscles relaxed when no other sound vibrated against her senses. She had to smile. She could just see him schlepping down that slope to see if she’d fallen to her death.
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly funny. She didn’t wish Mr. Devers any ill will or physical injury, but he was, in reality, the enemy.
Outwitting him was essential, even if it did involve a scratch or two to his handsome mug.
She got to her feet and dusted off her backside. No point in waiting around to see if he would catch up with her again. She wanted to be long gone by the time he stumbled into the clearing just up ahead.
Clutching the key to her escape in her hand, she headed for the tree line. As she neared the edge of the woods a hum or vibration of some sort had her listening as hard as she could. A motor?
She reached the treeline and surveyed the old hunting shack before venturing from the safety of her cover. Imagine her surprise when she noted lights on in the shack. She hadn’t even known there was electricity this far back in the boonies.
There wasn’t, she realized. The hum she heard was a generator.
Damn.
How was she supposed to get her car with trespassers hanging out in that shack?
Well, she supposed the people could own the place. But she’d been told the shack was abandoned, had been for two decades. The land owners had donated the whole kit and caboodle to the Army base. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone out here. So whoever was in there couldn’t be the owners.
Unless it was some sort of military exercise.
That wouldn’t be good.
Wasn’t trespassing on military property some sort of federal offense?
She eased around the perimeter of the clearing to take a look at any vehicles that might be parked on the other side of the shack.
To call the spot a clearing wasn’t exactly accurate. The overhead canopy of older, larger trees was st
ill thick high overhead, but the smaller ones had been cut away years ago in an area of about half an acre. Lots of bushes and saplings had sprouted up over the years making the place look overgrown. A dilapidated shack stood smack in the middle and what passed for a road meandered off into the woods. It came out along a country road in the middle of nowhere, but it was rough going any way but by foot. It hadn’t been used by vehicles in years, except for her occasional visit.
Until now, that is.
Her mouth dropped open when she saw that her old Jeep had been moved. She’d purchased it and parked it here months ago. Each time she drove it around, she parked back in the same spot. The trespassers had obviously hot-wired it and used it for their own purposes. Which meant she had no way of knowing how much gas might be in the tank. Next to the Jeep was an equally run-down truck. What looked like garbage had been piled against the side of the shack. Another pile, partially covered by a blue tarp sat nearby.
Definitely not military.
How long had these people been here?
She bit back a stinging curse. How was she supposed to get out of here now?
Calm down. Three deep breaths. She might still be able to do this. It wasn’t daylight yet. If she could get to the Jeep and get it started before anyone came outside…
But what if the battery was dead? She came by routinely to check on it. Even started it up and drove it around the clearing a couple of times every month or so. But knowing her luck, the battery would be dead, or the gas tank would be empty, and she’d be screwed. She hadn’t been here in two or three weeks. A lot could have happened in that length of time.
Obviously.
She eased down onto her haunches and fought the urge to admit defeat and just keep walking toward her destination. She might make it by noon, assuming Devers didn’t catch up with her. She’d formed contingency plans for everything. There were a dozen ways in and out of here, each ending up at a different destination. She knew every single one by heart. But, damn, she could use that Jeep.