The Hidden Heir

by Debra Webb

  Her neighbors watched her house when she was at work. Her coworkers and boss kept an eye on any strangers who hung around the store. She was so thorough.

  This escape route had been her ace in the hole. She’d figured that whoever came after her, if she was located, would be armed or, at the very least, bigger than her. She couldn’t have hoped to fight them off physically. Killing another human was out of the question—though she had no problem wishing death on the monster who held such a threat over her head. Her only alternative had been to plan carefully. No man ever wants a woman to “go” in his car. No matter how tough, he’ll stop at the nearest bathroom. Stopping along the highway and forcing her to “go” in the open would run the risk of being noticed by a cop or passerby.

  She’d had it all figured out.

  And it had worked.

  Up to the part where she got away clean.

  That old Jeep had been her ticket out of here.

  A man staggered out the back door of the shack. Dawn had brightened the early morning hour to the point that she could vaguely make out his features.

  Fortyish. Grungy jeans and T-shirt.

  When he peeled open his fly she turned her head in the nick of time.

  So maybe attempting to get the Jeep wasn’t such a good idea. Walking to her destination wouldn’t be the worst thing she’d ever had to do. As long as she didn’t let Devers catch up with her.

  The grungy guy staggered back into the shack, slammed the wooden door. The thwack echoed in the clearing, made her shiver. Or maybe it was the early morning mist that had settled on her skin. When it was this damp at daylight, mega humidity could be expected as the temperature rose.

  Perfect for walking, she mused.

  She could make her way along the tree line to the other side of the clearing and pick up the trail that would take her back to some semblance of civilization. The idea of hitchhiking wasn’t very appealing, but a lot of military folks traveled those roads. She might feel comfortable accepting a ride from someone in uniform.

  Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Right now, she was about as desperate as a woman could get and still be breathing on her own.

  Her nose twitched. What was that smell?

  Something chemical…something foul.

  Evidently she’d been too caught up in worry about the Jeep to notice the smell.

  Careful to remain hunkered down out of sight, she edged back a little farther into the concealing depths of the forest. Maybe she didn’t want to know who these people were or why they had spoiled her contingency plan after all. She had a bad feeling they were up to something extremely dangerous and seriously illegal.

  A hand abruptly wrapped around her mouth and jerked her body backward into what felt like a brick wall.

  “Don’t even think about making a noise,” a masculine voice growled against her ear.

  Devers.

  Fury chased away the fear and before she could stop the impulse she elbowed him hard in the ribs.

  He grunted but didn’t let go.

  “You scream and we’ll both be in trouble,” he warned. Slowly he loosened his grip on her mouth.

  She wheeled around and glared at him through the minimal light filtering down from the canopy of trees. “You scared the hell out of me,” she snapped in a stage whisper.

  “Yeah, well, you’ll get over it,” he grumbled under his breath. “I can’t say the same for these shoes.”

  She looked him up and down the best she could with him crouched only a couple feet in front of her. His tie hung loosely around his throat. His shirt had enough wrinkles to give it that crinkled look and looked a lot less white than before. The suit, with a torn sleeve and pocket, appeared beyond salvaging. But the shoes had hands down taken the worst damage. She imagined that the descent and then the upward climb out of that ravine had finished them off. No amount of polish would ever make them look shiny and new again. Too bad.

  “Do you always stalk your prey in Armani?” She couldn’t keep the amusement out of her tone. He was just too handsome for his own good and clearly he prided himself on an elegant appearance. Between the tousled hair and the battered clothes, he might even be considered adorable…if he weren’t the enemy. It was impossible not to notice.

  Where the hell had Desmond found this guy? He was not the usual sort her ex associated with.

  “There is nothing even remotely amusing about this situation, Miss Orrick,” he growled quietly. “In case you haven’t noticed, the people in that shack are preparing illegal drugs.”

  Ashley’s heart lunged into her throat. Not because of anything he said but because of the business end of the shotgun that came into view behind him.

  Apparently her look of horror alerted Devers to the situation and he whipped around to face the man, lunging to a standing position with amazing agility.

  Men, she amended, as she stood a little slower and peeked around Devers’s broad shoulder. Three altogether. All sporting the same grungy look as the fellow she’d first seen emerge from the shack this morning.

  “Let’s see some ID, pretty boy,” the one with the gun aimed at Devers’s chest ordered.

  “Looks like a Fed to me,” one of the others said, his own weapon aimed at Devers as well.

  The third man appeared intent on analyzing Ashley. She moved in closer behind Devers. She didn’t really know him, but he was a fair-sized guy and not once had he made her feel as if her honor might be in jeopardy. She doubted he could take all three of these guys, but he might provide enough of a distraction to give her the opportunity to run like hell.

  But that would only get him killed.

  Any hope of escaping this mess withered.

  They were in big trouble.

  Devers reached into his jacket for his ID and the guy who’d been eyeing Ashley bolted into action, slamming the butt of his shotgun into the side of Devers’s head with such force that he hit the ground like a rock without the slightest reaction or attempt to catch himself.

  Ashley dropped to her knees. Cringed at the blood that bloomed and then oozed down the side of his face. Not good. She surveyed his chest. At least he was still breathing.

  “Bring her to the kitchen,” the one apparently in charge commanded.

  She tried to scramble away but she wasn’t fast enough. Steel fingers manacled her arm.

  “Bring him, too,” the boss called over his shoulder as he stalked away. “We got to figure out what to do with their bodies.”

  Ashley’s heart slammed mercilessly against her ribcage. She had never fainted in her life but just now she felt dangerously close to doing just that.

  The man ogling her ushered her into the clearing. She looked back once, just long enough to see the other guy dragging Devers by the collar of his elegant jacket.

  Oddly, the one thought that crossed her mind was that now his trousers would be ruined, too.

  PAIN SHATTERED his skull.

  Keith groaned.

  He struggled to open his eyes but somehow his brain wouldn’t issue the proper command.

  Something was wrong. There were things he needed to do. Important things but he couldn’t make himself wake up long enough to do anything about it.

  He held his breath as another jolt of pain knifed through him.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  His body shook hard. Why couldn’t he stop shaking?

  He could hear a voice. The sound was far away. Unfamiliar.

  The shaking started again. Harder this time. He tried to control it, but couldn’t.

  “Devers, wake up!”

  He understood his name. Someone kept telling him to wake up. Over and over the voice told him. But he couldn’t make it happen.

  “Devers, you have to wake up. Open your eyes!”

  Something or someone prodded one eyelid open. He blinked. Shook his head. The pain radiated outward from the center of his skull like shards of glass exploding in his brain.

  “
Open your eyes, dammit. We have to get out of here!”

  With monumental effort, he managed to open his eyes just a crack. Enough to see that he was in a dark place. It smelled musty and dank.

  A piercing light shined into his eyes.

  He jerked away from it, howled with pain from abrupt movement.

  “Thank God,” the voice said. “I thought you were dead for a minute there.”

  Time and place crashed down around him.

  Waynesville, Missouri.

  Ashley Orrick.

  Meth lab.

  He forced his eyes open again. The light was still on but not aimed at his face.

  “I found this in your jacket pocket. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall out while that guy was dragging you across the clearing.”

  Dragging?

  Oh, yeah, he remembered. That was why his head was throbbing and felt like a damaged melon. The guy had popped him with the butt of his rifle.

  Jerk.

  He quickly felt for his weapon.

  “They took everything else. Your gun. Cell phone. Wallet. I don’t know why they didn’t take the light. Maybe they didn’t notice it.”

  “Are you all right?” His voice sounded rusty and the effort it took to talk added another layer of discomfort to the mix of unpleasant sensations assaulting him.

  She nodded. “I thought for a while I might have some trouble out of one of the guys, but apparently we caught them at a bad time.”

  Keith eased up just enough to lean back on what he decided was another part of the ground that made up the walls of their prison. A cave? he wondered vaguely. “How’s that?” The place smelled exactly like a cave.

  “They had to get their latest batch of meth delivered. At least that’s what I think they were talking about. They didn’t want to wait. I heard one of them tell the others that they would take care of us when they got back. That’s why I’ve been trying to wake you up. We have to get out of here before they get back.”

  Keith examined his forehead and right temple gingerly. “How long have they been gone?”

  “An hour, maybe.”

  He looked around. “Where are we?”

  “An old root cellar under the shack. They locked us in. I tried busting the lock, but I couldn’t do it. Outside of digging our way out, I figure that’s our only means of escape. Digging could very well take forever.”

  He touched his left wrist but his watch was gone.

  “They took that, too.”

  “How long have I been unconscious?”

  She shrugged. “An hour and a half, maybe. I can’t be sure. Could be two hours.”

  Okay. He had to think. She was right. They might not have much time.

  They were inside the shack. Under the floor of the run-down structure. No way to get out from underneath without, as she said, digging. Even if they had shovels that would take too long. The door was locked.

  An idea occurred to him. “Have you ever been in this old shack before?”

  “No. I mean, I’ve been here but never inside.”

  “Well.” He scrambled to his feet, staggered. She steadied him.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled as he reached up and pressed against the floorboards overhead. “If the interior is as dilapidated as the exterior, the lock on that door may be the strongest part of our prison. Are there any steps leading up?”

  “This way.” She tugged him across the small root cellar.

  Four steps had been carved out of the earth and led up to a trapdoor in the floor.

  “Okay, let’s push next to the door, away from the lock.”

  “I follow,” she said. “The floor could be easier to bust through if the wood is as dry rotted as the rest of the place. My mistake was focusing on the lock.”

  “Exactly.” He pushed on a couple of loose boards. It would take some work, but it was possible.

  “I should have thought of this.” As she said each word she shoved hard against first one floor board, then another.

  Using all his strength, which wasn’t saying much, Keith forced his body weight against the flooring overhead. Ashley mimicked his moves.

  “This one’s coming loose!”

  He moved closer to her and together they shoved enough boards loose from the deteriorating cross beams to get her through the opening.

  She pried up another board and reached her hand through to assist him in climbing out.

  Their gazes collided and for one instant he was stunned by the idea that she would help him when he was, for all intents and purposes, her enemy.

  “Come on,” she urged. “We don’t have all day.”

  He took her hand and maybe it was his imagination, or the concussion he likely had just received, but something electrical flashed over his skin, made him shiver.

  Shock. He was likely suffering from some degree of shock. That explained it.

  With Ashley’s help, he struggled out of the dark prison. The overwhelming chemical odor hanging in the air aboveground made him cough.

  “Stinks, huh?” She assisted him to his feet.

  “Yeah.” He surveyed the room. Didn’t see any sign of his cell phone, pocket PC or weapon.

  “We gotta go,” she urged.

  He nodded. Wished he hadn’t when pain splintered in his head. He staggered again. She steadied him once more.

  “Maybe you’d better lean on me.”

  She led him out into the daylight and into the cover of the trees. They’d gotten no more than twenty yards into the forest when he heard the distant sound of engines.

  “They’re back.” She peered toward the shack. “As soon as they realize we’ve escaped, they’ll be looking for us.”

  Keith pulled away from her. “You’re right. That’s precisely what they’ll do. I can’t run. I can barely walk.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “You go. Send someone back for me.”

  “For you?” she asked archly. “Don’t you mean for your body?”

  “Just go, Ashley.”

  She looked startled that he used her first name.

  “There’s no reason for both of us to die,” he pointed out.

  “That’s right.” She grabbed his arm. “I know a place we can hide until dark. Then we’ll get out of here. They can’t possibly know these woods better than me. With the cover of darkness on my side, I can lose them.”

  Still he hesitated. “You sure about this?”

  “Stop stalling, Devers.” She tugged him forward. “We don’t have time for deliberation.”

  He let her lead him.

  It didn’t really matter where so he didn’t ask questions.

  She was the only chance they had of surviving this day.

  Chapter Six

  She had to be out of her mind.

  Ashley stared at the sleeping man. She should just leave him. This was her chance.

  Wringing her hands, she crouched behind the bushes that provided their only cover in the little bluff alcove nature had burrowed into the rocks. The bad guys had already passed twice, once in the heat of the chase looking for their prey, the last time some two hours later as they trudged back to the shack empty-handed. She’d heard them arguing and cursing. They were more than a little angry that the man and woman had gotten away. One had grumbled that, under the circumstances, moving their kitchen couldn’t be put off.

  Ashley shuddered at the thought of the dangerous drugs these lowlifes cooked up.

  She was glad they were going. She’d felt as if that shack was hers for a year now.

  Not that their departure would do her any good. The drug cookers weren’t the only ones who would have to change venue.

  She glanced back at Keith Devers.

  She would have to move, as well.

  Staying in Waynesville was out of the question now. Maybe she could get lost in St. Louis. She hated to move too far away from Jamie.

  No matter, she definitely had to go. Worry gnawed at her. To be honest, remaining in this state might not even be a good idea.

 
; If she had any sense, she’d be long gone right now. Her gaze shifted back to the man who’d propelled her into this mess. She’d gotten him away from the immediate danger of those scumbags. If she left him now, he’d probably be fine. If he doesn’t stumble right back into those nasty guys, a little voice warned.

  She sighed wearily. Why did she care? It would be dark in a few hours and she needed to get as far away from here as possible.

  She had her own best interest to consider.

  Since she didn’t have a watch or cell phone and neither did her companion, she couldn’t say exactly what time it was. Noon had come and gone, she recognized by the position of the sun. It could be three o’clock, could be four. She was starving and thirsty, but she was alive.

  She crept back over to Devers and studied him. He’d groaned a couple of times in the last hour. He’d awakened and sat propped against the rocks off and on all morning, but then he’d slept most of the afternoon, which worried her a little. She’d woken him at frequent intervals just to make sure he was still alive. That wasn’t really true. If he had a concussion, as she suspected, or even a contusion, waking him frequently was the recommended course of action. She vaguely remembered that from some safety course she’d taken ages ago.

  Poor guy. His swollen cheek and the lump near his temple looked seriously painful. He hadn’t mentioned it, but she was certain he’d had a major headache when he came to that first time. She imagined that was why he sat so still and quiet. Movement or speech would have added to his suffering.

  He had nice hair. Thick, blond. And Gina was right: he did kind of look like one of those surfer guys with the kind of tan one nurtured on a sandy beach. Blue eyes like the water that would roll across that same sand.

  The route her thoughts had taken surprised her. She hadn’t lusted after a guy in a really long time. That the object of her admiration was her current enemy only made matters worse.

  She really needed to get her sex life in order when she settled in her next location. It just wasn’t normal for a woman to go without the attention of a man for so long.