had laid claim to wingback chairs facing her desk, Victoria began, “We have a new case that I believe is the one that should launch your investigative career, Keith.”
He tensed visibly. “Great.” But his deep voice failed to relay the word with any enthusiasm. He smoothed a hand down the length of his striped tie. “When do I start?”
“As soon as we have some of the preliminary details out of the way.” She shifted her attention to Ben. “That’s where you come in, Ben. We’ll need a computer age progression on this photo.” She passed the picture of the baby to him. “And one on the mother, as well.”
Ben scratched his head as he studied the ten-year-old photographs. “The female won’t be a problem. But you know the process works a lot better if the kid is at least two years old.” Concern spelled itself out in his expression. “I can’t make any promises about real accuracy with an infant.”
“Do your best.” She hoped that would make him feel more at ease, she should have known better.
He studied the photo again and his right leg started to bounce nervously. “I have a friend in…” He shrugged, looked embarrassed. “Well, it doesn’t matter where he works. He has access to this state-of-the-art process that’s not available to us regular folks. I might be able to get him to do this one as a favor to me.”
There was the Ben Victoria knew and loved. He always found a way to get things done. How had he worked in the bowels of research so long without her notice? The answer was easy; he hadn’t wanted to be noticed. That he had been a few months ago was an accident. He’d discovered a flaw in one of the agency’s computer security processes and had spoken up. It wasn’t until then that anyone had any idea about his genius. And that’s what it was—pure genius.
“That would be wonderful, Ben. We need to find this child. Time is our enemy.”
“Is the child ill?” Keith wanted to know.
“No.” Victoria gave the folder with the rest of its contents to him. “The biological father is terminally ill and he wishes to know his son before he dies. The mother left when the child was only three months old and she hasn’t been heard from since.”
As he reviewed the contents of the folder, Keith asked, “Are we sure she’s still alive?”
Victoria had read the file reports on where Brody had looked for the woman. He hadn’t found anything that indicated she was deceased, but then he wasn’t experienced in the art of finding missing people, either.
“We can’t be sure, but we need to find out as quickly as possible. Our client only has a few short months to live. Since the Van Valkenberg family has been a client of this agency for a number of years, I’m putting my best on the case.”
Keith’s gaze collided with hers. “Victoria, are you sure it’s me you want on this one?”
Again, his uneasiness was evident. “Very sure,” she confirmed.
Ben jumped up. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’d like to get started on this.”
“Please do. The moment you hear from your friend, you should forward the results to Keith.”
Ben nodded. “Will do.”
He hurried out of the office, the fire obviously burning in his belly to accomplish his mission. Just another thing Victoria appreciated about him. He loved his work and appeared to relish a challenge.
Her attention came back to rest on Keith’s blond head bowed over the file. Such a handsome young man. Blond hair, blue eyes, and well tanned from running five miles every morning beneath the July sun. What was it that made such a good-looking, intelligent young man so unsure of himself? He’d graduated at the top of his university class back in Nebraska. He’d come to Chicago, gone to work for the Tribune in the research department and done well.
His seemingly abrupt decision to move yet again, this time from journalism to private investigations, had seemed odd when she’d first interviewed him more than two years ago. But his résumé had been impeccable and highly attractive to any potential employer. She hadn’t questioned her good fortune too closely. Keith Devers was an asset, the Colby Agency was glad to have him on board.
Perhaps she’d grown cynical in the past few years, always looking for the underlying motivation in all things. She did wonder, however, how such a handsome young man had stayed unattached until the ripe old age of thirty-two.
Maybe he was also shy in his personal life. Certainly there were no known skeletons in his closet. The man had never been in trouble in his life. Not even a parking ticket. And in Chicago, that was saying something.
He looked up then and asked, “So, I’m supposed to find her and the boy and bring them back to Chicago?”
“That would be the optimum scenario,” she allowed, knowing from experience that it would never be that easy.
“What if she doesn’t want to come back?”
The blunt question was nothing she hadn’t expected.
“Then we’ll take our client to her.”
Chapter Two
Thank God the sun had started to set. Still, it was damned hot.
Keith sat in a car outside the Orrick family home in a small farming community less than an hour outside South Bend. The modest home sat amid several hundred acres of farmland that had slowly been sold off over the past ten years. Newer homes had popped up on most of the parcels sold, leaving the Orrick home a lonely relic of the past separated by scarcely ten acres from the new, bigger and better models.
A thorough background search had shown that Ashley Orrick’s mother, Mary, lived alone since her husband’s death fifteen years ago and her daughter’s departure for college shortly after that. He’d checked the land line records associated with the address and saw that no calls had come from outside the local calling area. According to Keith’s research, Mrs. Orrick did not own a cellular phone, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. Ben had equipped Keith for that scenario.
Keith had considered at length his limited options on how to approach the older woman and decided that an extreme cover story was necessary. Outright lying wasn’t one of his favorite tactics, but under the circumstances it was, unfortunately, necessary. No way would the mother willingly give up her daughter’s location. He felt certain she wouldn’t even talk to him unless he gave her a hell of an excuse.
Technically, he wasn’t outright lying, but it felt entirely too much like deceit to sit right with his conscience. The offer was legitimate; it just somehow felt wrong. Maybe it was because Keith suspected Van Valkenberg would take legal action to ensure Ashley Orrick didn’t elude him again quicker than she could cash the check for back child support.
On the other side of the coin was Desmond Van Valkenberg. He had a right to know his son. Ashley Orrick had taken that right from him ten years ago. She’d used a number of means of deceit, including taking on one or more identities to do so. Keith shouldn’t feel guilty…but he did.
Shoving aside the undermining emotion, he emerged from his car and reached into the back seat for his briefcase. At least he would learn one thing about Miss Ashley Orrick at the end of this exercise: her price.
If she were a gold digger as Brody claimed, she would have a price. In Keith’s opinion, she certainly hadn’t behaved like someone out for the money, but he would reserve judgment until he had all the facts.
He walked up the dusty sidewalk. July’s lack of rain ensured dying grass and rising utility costs if one wanted to stay cool. Though Mrs. Mary Orrick’s home didn’t have the convenience of central air-conditioning, an individual unit droned monotonously in a window on the side of the house. A steady drizzle of water dripped from its rusty housing. Even with the sun dropping behind the trees in the distance, he already missed the cool air that had been circulating in his vehicle.
The