left her alone for a very long time now. What was the reason for his sudden renewed interest?
There had to be some motivation for his trouble. Had the investigation into that old case been resurrected?
Had he killed another of his consorts? She hadn’t seen anything in the news related to that sort of case in the Chicago area. There were only three other women on the tape besides her. One was dead. It wouldn’t be difficult to determine if the other two were alive and well. Maybe she should look into that possibility.
She opened her phone to view the picture Gina had just sent her via her own camera phone.
The image of the man her mother had described filled the small screen.
Ashley moistened her lips and told her heart to calm. Young, she decided. Maybe her age or younger. Handsome. He looked…harmless.
But he wouldn’t be.
Desmond Van Valkenberg had sent him.
Nothing about Desmond could be considered harmless, most assuredly not his hired help.
Whatever he was after, she had to make sure he didn’t find Jamie.
She had to protect her son at all costs.
She sat down on the stool behind the counter and stared at the image on her phone’s tiny screen.
Her intuition nudged her, warned her, that this time she wouldn’t escape so easily. This guy looked as determined as he did handsome.
She closed the phone and looked up as the bell over the store’s entrance door jingled. A familiar face strolled into the convenience store.
“Evening, Mr. Talley, how are you tonight?” Somehow she managed to sound chipper when she felt anything but.
He grunted from beneath the bill of his cap. “Can you believe I had to come out for milk at this hour?” He shook his head and shuffled toward the cooler at the back of the store. “I swear. Couldn’t she have noticed that we were out before bedtime?”
Ashley had to smile. The man was one of her regular customers and the she he spoke of was his wife. They’d been married forty years and he never let anyone forget it. For all his grumbling, Ashley knew he worshiped the ground his wife walked on.
“Thank the Lord for all-night convenience stores,” he groused as he plopped the gallon of milk onto the counter. “How’s your night going, Nola?”
That was her name now. Nola Childress. Nola who lived and worked in Waynesville, Missouri. A nobody in the middle of nowhere.
“Like all the rest, Mr. Talley. Quiet.” That was another way she stayed out of the mainstream. She worked the graveyard shift.
That was her life. Nobody, nowhere, nightshift.
Not even her own mother knew where she was.
Whatever Mr. Keith Devers’s agenda was, he couldn’t know, either.
That was the one hard and fast rule she lived by. Every instinct warned her that it was the sole reason she and her son were both still alive.
Chapter Three
Keith admitted defeat at midnight. Fifteen minutes later he’d shed his shoes, jacket and tie and fallen across the bed in his hotel room.
He stared at his cell phone. He’d called Ben to find out what the hell had gone wrong with the trace, but the jury was still out on that issue. Ben had spouted off a couple of possibilities; both flew right over Keith’s head. Fact was, he didn’t really care what happened; he just didn’t want it to happen again and he needed to know the location from which Ashley Orrick had called. Now. This minute, no later than the next.
Was that too much to ask?
He blew out a disgusted breath. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. His first case in the field and problems were cropping up already.
Definitely not cool.
Hopefully he could make up for lost time tomorrow.
He’d researched Ashley Orrick’s past every which way possible. There wasn’t a damned iota of information on the woman or the child newer than eight years ago. Both had disappeared, seemingly fallen off the planet.
Yet, logic dictated that they were somewhere. Pure physics. Matter occupied space and all that jazz. All he had to do was flush the woman out of hiding and finding the kid would be a piece of cake after that. Chances were wherever Mommy went, the little boy went, too.
The question was, why hide the kid from his rich daddy? Was she afraid of the consequences of her actions ten years ago? She’d taken the money and ran. Big deal. Even if Van Valkenberg were of the mind to press charges, the statute of limitations had likely run out on her alleged crime.
What was she running from? The boy was Van Valkenberg’s biological child. Van Valkenberg was worth megamillions. Why walk away from that kind of security? Didn’t sound like gold digger tactics.
It didn’t make sense at all. If she was the scam artist, why ditch such a bountiful source of dough? She had the platinum card with the unlimited credit limit in that kid.
Keith shoved his fingers through his hair. He needed sleep. He would be able to think better after a few hours of shuteye. Maybe by then he’d hear from Ben with something on how the Orrick woman overrode the trace on the call her mother had made to her.
Maybe she was smarter than Van Valkenberg and his people had estimated. She was definitely cagier than Keith had anticipated.
He closed his eyes and tuned out the questions one by one. No more thinking. A few hours’ sleep would give him the clear head he needed for determining his next course of action.
The chirp of his cell phone disrupted the silence.
Keith sat up and blinked twice before the numbers on the clock became clear: 1:30 a.m. He grabbed the phone off the bedside table.
“Devers.”
“I think I’ve got it.”
Ben.
Keith scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m listening.”
“You see, she piggybacked her number on several others, bouncing around the Midwest ending up in South Bend. The technology isn’t anything new, but your average Joe, or Betty in this case, wouldn’t know about it. Not that it’s a problem to find it.” He laughed. “The needed gadgets are available right on the Internet. But her one mistake was in her post office box.”
“Her post office box?” Keith’s brow furrowed in confusion as he started to button his shirt. Somehow the conversation had jumped from cell phones to post office boxes and he didn’t quite follow. Maybe that hour of sleep had been just enough to ensure his brain staged a rebellion against waking up.
“Yeah. You see, you have to have a billing address. No billing address, no cell phone. Unless, of course, you’re using the pay-as-you-go kind and she
