Amanda Stevens - The Hero's Son

www.millsandboon.co.uk

is a bestselling author of more than thirty novels of romantic suspense. In addition to being a Romance Writers of America RITA ®Award finalist, she is also a recipient of awards for Career Achievement in Romantic Mystery and Career Achievement in Romantic Suspense from RT Book Reviews magazine. She currently resides in Texas. To find out more about past, present and future projects, please visit her website at www.amandastevens.com.

This book is dedicated to my editor, Huntley Fitzpatrick.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE BANGING ON THE front door awakened five-year-old Violet from a deep sleep. Frightened, she called out. Mommy and Daddy were in the next room, watching TV. Why didn’t they come?

Her heart pounding, Violet got out of bed and crept to her bedroom door. Mommy and Daddy were standing in the living room, and for a moment, Violet felt safe. Then she saw their faces. They looked the way she felt when she’d had a really bad dream. Or seen something scary on TV. But mommies and daddies weren’t supposed to get scared, were they?

The banging at the door sounded again, and someone shouted, “Police! Open up!”

Mommy grabbed Daddy’s arm. “Cletus, my God, what’s going on?”

Daddy’s face was white. He looked sick. “I don’t know. I’d better let them in.”

But before he could open the door, it burst open, shattering the wood frame. Mommy screamed as three men rushed in and grabbed Daddy. “Don’t move,” one of the men said. “Or we’ll blow your head off.”

Hiding behind her bedroom door, Violet shoved a fist against her mouth to keep from crying. She’d never been so scared. Mommy had always told her if she were ever lost or in trouble to look for a policeman. He would help her. But these men didn’t have on uniforms, like Mommy had shown her, and they didn’t have the pretty shiny badges that Violet liked so much, either. All they had were guns. And Violet knew guns were bad. Very bad.

All three of the men were scary, but it was the big man with the dark hair that frightened Violet the most. She’d learned about the devil in Sunday-school class, had even seen a picture of him in a book, and that was who she thought of now. The big man didn’t have horns or a tail, but her Sunday-school teacher had said the devil could disguise himself in many ways. Even as a policeman.

Help us, Violet prayed. Please help us.

The television Mommy and Daddy had been watching was still on, and Violet could hear bits of a news broadcast, something about the little boy who had been kidnapped. His picture was all over the news. Violet saw it every time she turned on the TV to watch her favorite shows. She didn’t want to think about what was happening, how scared she was, so she tried instead to remember the kidnapped boy’s name.

And then she heard someone say it. Adam Kingsley. Yes, that was it. Adam Kingsley had been kidnapped from his bedroom, and no one knew where he was or what had happened to him. Mommy said everyone in Memphis was looking for him.

Violet had been so frightened when she first heard about the kidnapping. What if someone kidnapped her? She could think of nothing scarier than to be taken from her mommy and daddy, but then Mommy had told her that Adam Kingsley had been kidnapped because his parents were rich. His father was an important man. Violet had nothing to worry about. Her daddy was just an out-of-work auto mechanic.

Violet heard Adam Kingsley’s name again, and she thought it must be coming from the TV. Then she realized the big man was saying the little boy’s name. Saying it over and over as he grabbed Daddy and shouted, “Where is he? Where is he, you piece of scum?”

Daddy’s hands were fastened behind his back, like Violet had seen policemen on TV do to bad men. The big man shoved Daddy, and he fell backward, hitting his head against the corner of the coffee table.

Blood ran from the cut on his head, and Mommy screamed. She tried to run to him, but the big man pushed her away. She fell, too, and Violet’s heart began to pound, not just in fear, but because she was angry. She ran out of her room as fast as she could.

“Don’t hurt my mommy!” she screamed. “Don’t you hurt my mommy!”

She tried to grab the big man’s arm, but he just pushed her away and turned back to Daddy, who had been pulled to his feet by the other two men.

Blood ran down Daddy’s face as he looked at Violet and Mommy. “I’m innocent, Grace. You have to believe me. They’re setting me up—”

“Shut up!” the big man yelled.

The men dragged Daddy across the room. One of them opened the front door, and for the first time, Violet realized there was a crowd outside. The tiny front yard was filled with people, and in the street, lights flashed on top of police cars.

Mommy got up off the floor and ran outside. Violet didn’t know what else to do but follow. But there was so much noise outside. So many people. Violet started to cry. She saw some of their neighbors in the front yard, and they were shouting bad words at Daddy. A bottle shattered against the house, and Mommy began to cry, too.

Violet tried to run to Daddy, but the big man caught her. He knelt and looked into her eyes. Violet began to shake, she was so scared. What if he really was the devil, come to take her to hell?

He reached out for her, and Violet tried to pull away. Somewhere near them, a bright light flashed in her face, and she blinked. She heard an excited voice yell, “Did you get that shot?”

The big man patted her head. In a soft voice, he told her everything would be all right. But his eyes—eyes that looked like the picture in the Sunday-school book—told her something else, and Violet backed away from him, away from his touch.

Another man came up beside him. He was dressed in a uniform like Mommy had shown her, and Violet thought he would make the big man go away. That he would help her. But instead, he said, “We found part of the ransom money in the trunk of his car. Just where you said it would be, Sergeant Colter.”

The big man stood and walked away from Violet, but the fear didn’t leave her. She knew who he was now, and she knew she would never forget him for as long as she lived.

The devil’s name was Sergeant Colter.

THIRTY-ONE YEARS LATER…Sergeant Brant Colter caught sight of the tall brunette in the crowd ahead and quickened his steps, trying not to lose her. Another woman, a petite blonde, walked beside her, but Brant had no interest in her. It was the dark-haired woman he wanted.

He knew very little about her, except that her name was Valerie Snow, she worked as an investigative reporter for the Memphis Journal, and she seemed hell-bent on destroying Brant’s family.

He grimaced, thinking about the article that had appeared in the Journal yesterday. According to Valerie Snow, the wrong man had been sent to prison thirty-one years ago for little Adam Kingsley’s kidnapping and murder, a crime that was almost as famous as the Lindbergh case.

She claimed that the three detectives who had made the arrest—Judd Colter, Raymond Colter and Hugh Rawlins—had planted evidence to frame Cletus Brown and had then suppressed witnesses who could have cleared him.

In short, Valerie Snow alleged that one or all of them had concocted an elaborate conspiracy comparable only to the Kennedy assassination, and all because of their pride; their “hubris,” she called it. They had been humiliated by the press and by the FBI, and were desperate for an arrest. Desperate to become heroes. And they had become heroes, Brant thought. The three of them were almost legendary in the department—his father, his uncle and his mentor. The three men who had probably influenced Brant’s life the most.