The Hidden Heir

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 was capable of anything.

Anything.

She’d run with her child in tow to protect him from the evil his father craved. Besides, Desmond didn’t like baggage. He’d been fascinated by Ashley. That was the only reason he’d allowed her to actually live with him for more than a year. Her foolish vulnerability had enticed him. Even the child they’d created together had amused him for a time.

But that hadn’t lasted very long.

She’d realized it was time to go the night he’d tried to kill her.

Her cell phone rang and she jumped. She glanced around the store to make sure no one had come in to witness her foolish behavior. She had to get a grip here.

Pressing her hand to her chest she sucked in breath. Stay calm. Being calm and rational was her only defense against Desmond. She had to be smarter than him. Quicker on her feet.

He’d 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.

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