The Hidden Heir

by Debra Webb

  When she turned around, Devers was standing right behind her. He was still on the phone.

  The breath she’d been holding rushed out of her lungs.

  He took the bag from her hand, moved to the trunk, tossed it inside next to the others and slammed the lid shut all in one fluid motion.

  “Thank you for calling.” Devers closed his phone and slid it back into his shirt pocket. “I locked the front door. We should get going.” He pulled the directions she had written down for him out of his back pocket.

  She nodded, still unable to slow her heart’s frantic beating.

  When they’d both settled into the car and he’d briefly reviewed her directions, he started the engine and backed out of her drive.

  Ashley stared at the place that had been her home for the past year and she couldn’t help feeling a little sentimental. She wouldn’t be back here.

  Not that the place was so great.

  She’d been lonely here. More than ever before. She’d missed her son so badly.

  She’d missed human touch, period.

  Ten years was a long time.

  Looking out the window, she let the self-pity she usually kept locked away slip into conscious thought.

  Once, about three years after she’d left Desmond, she’d met someone. They’d talked, really enjoyed each other’s company. But then he’d started to ask questions. That had ruined everything. He just couldn’t understand why she was so evasive.

  The trouble was, she considered as she looked back, he had been a sincerely nice guy. He’d wanted a relationship, not just recreational sex.

  Relationships were off-limits for her. No ties whatsoever.

  She’d studied everything available in books and on the Internet regarding how to disappear. She knew a million tricks to lose herself, to evade being caught. And how to escape a captor.

  The one thing she couldn’t escape was the loneliness.

  No matter how she pretended, she couldn’t make it go away. God knows she’d tried.

  She was still fairly young and healthy. Reading books and watching movies only went so far when it came to fulfilling her needs. Even a close female friend with whom to simply talk was pretty much out of the question. Sure, she talked to Gina once in a while and to Marla when she visited Jamie, but that wasn’t the same as someone she could turn to on a moment’s notice.

  Guilt barbed her. Gina and Marla were the best friends anyone, male or female, could hope for. She was blessed to have them looking out for her and her son. That was a given.

  This blue funk wasn’t really about her friends. She was just lonely, that was all. She longed to be held by strong arms. To be treated like a woman…touched like a woman.

  By a man.

  Her gaze slid to the only man around, her driver and captor.

  There was a little bit of attraction going on between them. No denying that. But nothing could come of it. He had been hired by the man who would like nothing better than to see her dead.

  She wondered if telling this man that she feared for her life was a mistake. Again, that familiar feeling of desperation had played into her decision. She needed time and this had been the only way she could think of to fool this guy. Maybe fooling him wasn’t the right expression. She needed to keep him distracted a little while longer.

  That was the best she could hope for. Keep him distracted and following a dead lead until her mother and son were out of harm’s way.

  No one could touch her baby then.

  SHE WAITED for an hour.

  It felt like two.

  But she wanted to ensure they were well into no man’s-land. An area miles from nowhere. Lots of roads in the area fit that description but this one in particular was even more remote. They didn’t call Ft. Leonard Wood “Ft. Lost in the Woods” for nothing.

  Even more important, for the next ten miles or so, it was pretty much a dead zone. It was almost impossible to get cell phone service.

  She was counting on that more than she preferred to admit.

  For the last five minutes, she’d been rubbing her forehead. He’d noticed.

  “Do you mind stopping to let me get some aspirin out of my bag? I have a horrendous headache.”

  He sent a sideways glance in her direction. “You have something to drink?”

  “Bottled water in my bag. You want some?”

  He shook his head. “I could stretch my legs, I guess.”

  Ashley tensed. His getting out could make her next move trickier.

  The tires bumped over the grass as he eased onto the shoulder of the road. After shoving the gearshift into Park, he got out. She did the same. He met her at the trunk and unlocked it.

  “Thanks.” She managed a tight smile.

  He nodded once.

  She leaned deep into the trunk and fished around for her cosmetic bag and then a bottle of water. He watched her every move. Her pulse pounded.

  Did he have to hover?

  When she stepped back from the trunk, he shut the lid and moved back around to the driver’s side.

  For a second, she couldn’t decide what to do.

  Then inspiration struck.

  She covertly unzipped her cosmetic bag and strode toward the front passenger door. Just as she reached it she dropped her bag.

  “Damn.” She looked through the glass at the waiting driver. “Just a minute.”

  Her fingers trembling, she grabbed the small wrench used for loosening or tightening the air valves on tires. She snatched off the valve’s small top, shoved the wrench into place and gave it one full turn. Then she tossed it under the car.

  A foot settled onto the asphalt on the other side of the car. From her position on her hands and knees her gaze riveted to that loafer-clad foot.

  She grabbed the rest of her stuff and shot to her feet. “Sorry.”

  Devers studied her suspiciously from across the top of the car, but he didn’t say anything, just got back behind the wheel.

  Ashley got back into her seat and dragged on the safety belt. That he hadn’t started the car and put it into gear to head out again made her heart slam unmercifully against her ribcage.

  She looked at him, praying he couldn’t see the panic in her eyes. “What’s the holdup?”

  He shrugged. “Thought I’d let you take your aspirin before I pulled back onto the road.”

  Dredging up an annoyed voice, she huffed, “You’re wasting time, Devers. Let’s go.”

  Looking flustered, he cranked the engine, pulled the gearshift into Drive and eased back onto the road.

  Seeing her act all the way through, she popped a couple of aspirins into her mouth and chugged the water. In an effort to keep busy, she rearranged all her stuff in the cosmetic bag and zipped it closed. She sat it on the seat between her and Keith. If he tried to accuse her of anything later, he wouldn’t find any evidence in her bag.

  Don’t look at him, she told herself. Keep your eyes straight ahead.

  No, close your eyes.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against the head rest. If she had a headache, she would do that. Right? Okay. Relax.

  The minutes ticked by.

  Had she done something wrong?

  Should she have turned it twice instead of once?

  “What now?” he grumbled.

  The car had started to ride a little rougher than before. Ashley opened her eyes and looked around. “What’s wrong?”

  Devers shook his head and swore softly. “Feels like we’ve got a flat.”

  Goose bumps tumbled over her skin. “There’s a spare, right?” She blinked, giving him her most innocent expression.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He guided the car onto the side of the road once more. She ordered her fingers to stay still. She fluctuated between wanting to curl and flex them and wanting to tuck them under her arms.

  When he opened his door, she asked, “Do you need me to help?”

  Those blue eyes nailed her to the spot. “Stay in the car. I don
’t need to have to worry about what you’re doing while I handle this.”

  “Okay.”

  She heard the slap of shoe leather on asphalt and then the pop of the trunk. Her nerves jangled with each sound.

  The shuffle of bags.

  A couple of hot curses.

  She knotted her hands together.

  If he figured out she’d had something to do with this, he might just go ballistic. A surge of fear sent her pulse racing. Okay, she should have thought of that. So far as she could tell, Devers appeared to be a nice guy. She felt reasonably sure he wouldn’t do anything crazy.

  More shuffling in the trunk.

  The thud of bags hitting the ground.

  Now he was ticked off.

  The back door opened. She tensed.

  What would she do under normal circumstances? If she hadn’t sabotaged the tire herself?

  She unfastened her safety belt and turned around in the seat. “What’re you doing? I thought you said we had a flat. Don’t you know how to change a flat tire?”

  When his gaze met hers, she knew there would be no getting out of the fact that she was a suspect in his latest dilemma.

  “What did you do, Ashley?”

  Her breath caught. Partially from his fierce glare and, as much as she hated to admit it, partly from his use of her first name.

  “What’re you talking about?” she said, summoning up a properly offended expression.

  He shook his head. “I should have known you were up to something.”

  He prowled under the seats. Swore some more. Nothing particularly offensive. She turned back around and plopped back into her seat, mostly so she wouldn’t smile where he could see her.

  The back door slammed and she watched from the corner of her eye as he walked back to the flat tire and then kicked it as hard as he could.

  “That had to hurt,” she muttered, trying hard not to laugh.

  Then she held her breath as he pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

  AAA? Air support from his friend with the trench coat?

  Just don’t let there be any service where he was standing. She crossed her fingers and watched, still afraid to breathe.

  His lips compressed into a thin line as he obviously stabbed the End Call button and entered another one. He did this five or six times before he admitted defeat.

  He looked at her through the windshield and she realized that he knew she was somehow responsible for this latest run of bad luck.

  Time to perform a little damage control.

  She hoisted the door open and got out. “What is it now?”

  Judging by his accusing stare, he wasn’t buying her innocence at all.

  “We have a flat tire.” He gestured to the tire. “We have no tire wrench.” He waved his hand toward the trunk. Then he held up his cell phone. “No service. Imagine that.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Why does it feel like you’re blaming me for this?”

  He shoved the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Her attention momentarily fixed on his well-formed buttocks.

  The deep, rich sound of his laughter hauled her gaze from his nice buns to his equally nice face.

  “You are good, lady.”

  Careful to keep that how-dare-you posture in place, she challenged, “Exactly what are you implying?”

  “The whole I’ve-got-a-headache thing.” He set his hands at his waist and locked his gaze with hers. “You did this. You dropped your stuff on purpose and then you did this.” He flung his hands in the direction of the tire.

  She stepped close and peered at the tire. “How was I supposed to have accomplished this act of sabotage?”

  He moved his hands back and forth in front of him. “Oh, no. I’m not buying this innocent act.” His frustration amped up a couple of notches. “Which way do we start walking to reach a service station or land line first?”

  Ashley walked out into the middle of the road and looked first left and then right, taking her time as if weighing their options.

  “Well.” She pointed in the direction they’d come. “About fifty miles in that direction.” She turned to look the other way. “At least that far in this direction.”

  He joined her in the road and did a three-sixty turn. “You don’t know some shortcut through the woods?”

  She moved her shoulders up and down. “Afraid not.”

  “No car hidden in the bushes.” He wheeled on her then. “Wait. Maybe you’ve got a helicopter hidden around here somewhere.”

  So he was mad. He’d just have to get over it.

  “I guess we should start walking.” She looked at him expectantly. “Which way?”

  He pointed the way they’d come. “At least I know what’s back there.”

  “Whatever.” She hustled over to the trunk and grabbed her overnight bag. On second thought, she took the bottle of water from the bag she’d packed this morning and decided getting the half bottle she’d left in the front seat wouldn’t be a bad idea, either. They would need water before they got back to town.

  Hours. She bit back a smile. The chances of a car coming along anytime soon was about the same odds as winning the lottery. This was the off road of off roads. Thank God this guy wasn’t from anywhere near here.

  She hefted the bag onto her shoulder and started to shut the trunk, but he stopped her. She jumped, surprised that he’d sneaked up on her like that.

  “Might as well take mine, too. Just in case,” he added with another one of those suspicious looks in her direction.

  “Too bad you don’t have any tricks in your bag.” She knew she was tempting fate, but she just couldn’t resist. He had the key to averting the long walk ahead right there in that bag; he just didn’t know it.

  He slammed the trunk lid shut. “You’d be surprised at what I have in this bag, Miss Orrick.”

  She smiled widely for him. “If you were a race horse, Mr. Devers, I wouldn’t bet on you.”

  That pretty much took the wind out of his sails.

  He didn’t have anything to say after that.

  Or maybe it was the fact that she plopped her bag onto the closed trunk and fished out her sunblock that really peeved him. When she’d covered all exposed skin, she tossed the bottle to him. “It’s going to get hot today.” She glanced around. “I can feel it already.”

  When he didn’t argue with her about the sun-screen, she figured he’d pretty much resigned himself to the idea that they would be walking all day. Feeling a little guilty for being so hard on him, she offered him the unopened bottle of water when he returned the protective lotion. He passed.

  Guys. She gave her head a little shake. They always had to prove they were tougher.

  Thank goodness they weren’t smarter.

  She glanced at the bag he’d thrown over his shoulder.

  If he only knew…

  Chapter Ten

  The rain had been coming down for hours.

  Keith estimated they were traveling about one mile every seventeen minutes, but he couldn’t be precise about his calculations.

  He looked at his watch again: 4:15. If his calculations were close, they had likely covered about twenty miles.

  Only thirty to go.

  He glanced at his companion.

  She was soaked to the bone, as he was.

  The major difference was the way her clothes had become glued to her body.

  He tried hard not to notice. He really did.

  Impossible.

  From the corner of his eyes he watched her march forward. Determined. Resourceful. Highly imaginative. He had no idea how she’d managed to do what she did to the tire, but every instinct screamed at him that this was her doing. He simply had no proof.

  Unfortunately that wasn’t the trouble just now. At the moment, his major issue with the circumstances was the precise way her clothes had seemingly melted against her skin. Molded to her breasts. Plastered against her flat abdomen.

  He wasn’t usually so taken with
belly buttons, but hers kept drawing his gaze to that place just above the snap on her jeans. It was a pleasant journey down the length of those drenched jeans. Already tight, getting wet gave them the appearance of a second skin.

  “It’s not nice to stare, Mr. Devers.” She arrowed him a sidelong glance.

  “I was just thinking,” he said quickly, attempting to cover for his gawking. “You never told me exactly why you felt Van Valkenberg wanted you dead.”

  She pointed her gaze straight ahead once more but not before he noted the uncertainty in her eyes.

  “We don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.” He moved his soggy shoulders up and down. “I just thought maybe you wanted to give me more information about your side of things. That phone call I got before we left your house was from your friend, Gina.”

  Ashley tried to look surprised. “Really?”

  “She wanted me to know that if I didn’t believe you I’d get you killed.”

  “I’m sure that swayed your opinion,” she said dryly.

  “Just made me want to hear your side of things all the more.”

  “Why?” She glowered at him. “So you can pass the time? I don’t think so. You work for him. Nothing I say is going to make any difference.”

  Did she really believe that?

  “Wait a minute.” Keith stopped.

  She didn’t. Not right away. Three steps in front of him, she finally relented and turned back to him. “What? It’s raining, in case you haven’t noticed.” She performed a quick perusal of his waterlogged frame and he was pretty sure a hint of approval flashed in her eyes.

  “I told you I’d refrain from making any conclusions until after I’d seen your evidence. What else do you want? I’d say that’s more than going the distance.”

  He was setting aside his assignment in order to understand her hesitations. Bottom line, he was doing her a favor and this was the thanks he got.

  She exhaled a big breath. “I guess you’re right.”

  She started walking again. He fell into step next to her.