Page 20 of The Vanished

“I believe it,” Quinn replied. “What did you think you were going to find? A headline that proclaimed Geneva to be missing and a follow-up article that laid out all the facts?”

“One can hope,” Rhys grumbled, then his attitude instantly brightened. “That wouldn’t make for good television, though, would it? We must encounter a few dead ends before we find an important lead. Draw out the mystery.” He didn’t wait for Quinn to comment but went on. “So, what’s the setup? The artifacts always take you to a turning point in the victim’s life, correct?”

“The Bellamys owned Bellamy Hall, which is the house that now belongs to Lynn Michaels. The father, Douglas Bellamy, was gravely ill, and the daughters were just about to discover that the estate is entailed.”

“That’s perfect!” Rhys exclaimed. “It’s just like Downton Abbey. And when that show ended, it left a void in the hearts and minds of its legions of fans that we can now fill. I love it!”

“Downton Abbey was a work of fiction, Rhys,” Quinn reminded him.

“But it was based on real, legal situations. Plenty of patriarchs entailed their estates to prevent them from being divided among the daughters or passing out of the family. I grant you, it probably wasn’t as common in 1923, but if the conditions had been set forth centuries before, and the family had never come up against a situation where there wasn’t a direct descendant, it would not have even figured into the equation.”

“Well, it did in this case, since there were only two daughters, and their father had months left to live.”

“Splendid!” Rhys exclaimed. “I knew this would be the one that would bring Echoes from the Past out of the archives. Is there a hot chauffeur? Oh, please tell me there is.”

“I don’t know yet.”

Quinn decided not to mention Rory Sullivan. She had yet to meet him, and, because the man was Irish, Rhys would latch on to the information and immediately assume that the claddagh ring belonged to him.

“And you’re sure it was Geneva in the well? Did she have short hair?” Rhys asked.

“Both sisters had long hair when I saw them. And there’s a strong family resemblance between the two girls.”

“All right. Keep me posted,” Rhys said.

“I will ring you as soon as there’s something to tell,” Quinn promised.

She was amused by Rhys’s eagerness but also hesitant to give in to her own excitement and her need to find out the answers. Hearing about something dreadful was not the same as experiencing it, and she knew that she would be put through an emotional wringer before she got to the end. And there wasn’t going to be a happy ending. The body in the well pretty much blew any possibility of that out of the water, both literally and figuratively.

“All right, then. But don’t take too long. You know what? I’m going to get on to the costume department. They can start working on the wardrobe. Are the sisters attractive? We’ll need to put out a casting call.”

“Hold your horses,” Quinn replied with a chuckle. “You’re getting ahead of⁠—”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence because her mobile beeped, indicating there was an incoming call. She was going to decline it until she saw the name on the screen. Primrose Nursery School.

“Rhys, I’m going to have to call you back,” she said absentmindedly.

“You won’t get rid of me so easily,” Rhys was saying, but Quinn didn’t let him finish, just switched to the other call.

TWELVE

“Mrs. Russell? Quinn Russell?” an anxious female voice asked as soon as Quinn answered.

“Speaking.”

“Mrs. Russell, my name is Ruth Watley. I’m the head here at Primrose Nursery School. I’m sorry to disturb you, but we have you listed as the emergency contact for Max Wyatt.”

“Yes, I’m his aunt. What’s happened? Is Max all right?”

“Max is absolutely fine, but understandably emotional. His father did not come to collect him. All the other children have already left.”

“Logan didn’t show?”

“We waited and waited, but Mr. Wyatt didn’t turn up, and we need to lock up.”

“Did you ring him?”

“Yes,” the woman said irritably. Of course they’d called him. That would have been the first thing they had done. “We rang his mobile several times, and we texted. He did not ring back.”