Page 60 of The Vanished

“One day, Chrissy became ill at work. She was in terrible abdominal pain and hemorrhaging badly. One of her coworkers called an ambulance. She never came back to work. Her boss assumed she had been ill for a while and returned to the Czech Republic, where her parents could look after her. As far as I can tell, she never came back to the UK.”

“Poor Chrissy. I hope she’s all right,” Quinn said. “What about her boyfriend?”

“Chrissy’s coworkers had never met him, but they said she was always talking about the nice things he did for her. She met him at her previous job, when he came in to get a haircut. I will see if I can get a lead on him.”

Quinn waited, since she sensed Drew wasn’t finished. She was right.

“I also looked into Rafe’s movements over the past few days. On the night Logan was followed, Rafe was at work until a quarter to six. He went to dinner at an Asian fusion restaurant down the street from his office with a group of coworkers. The following day, he had a date that turned into a sleepover.”

Quinn didn’t ask how Drew knew that. It wasn’t important. What mattered was that neither Chrissy nor Rafe was to blame. It was a relief to know that two people Logan had trusted didn’t have anything to do with whatever was happening, but it was also disheartening. If neither of them had any designs on Max, then who was the man who’d followed Logan, and who was the woman who’d tried to kidnap Max? And why? There had to be a reason Max had been singled out. If someone wanted to snatch a child, sadly, there were easier ways to accomplish that. Children were taken every day, mostly out in the open. To brazenly show up at Max’s nursery school with a fake ID and try to take him spoke to premeditation and serious intent. This woman didn’t want any child. She wanted Max.

“What now?” Quinn asked. “We know who it wasn’t, but we’re no closer to finding out who it was.”

“I’m going to take a peek at Logan’s call register,” Drew said. “I know someone who can hack into his mobile provider’s data.”

Not surprising, Quinn thought. “What do you expect to find?”

“I don’t for one moment think that what happened was random. How could it when the woman tried to impersonate you? Logan had to have known the man who followed him, and he likely also knew the woman. Unless he was using a burner phone to communicate with them, there would be some record of their contact.”

“But how would you know just by looking at the call register?”

“I’m hoping they communicated by text. If they didn’t, then I will have to weed through all his calls, try to eliminate the numbers of known associates and his workplace, and see if I can isolate any possible suspects.”

“That sounds like a long shot,” Quinn said.

“It is, but still worth checking. I’ll let you know if I find anything,” Drew said. He preferred to deal in facts rather than speculation, which was what made him so good at his job. “I’ll ring you tomorrow with an update.”

“Thanks, Drew.”

“Don’t mention it. And try to get some rest. You must be knackered.”

“I am,” Quinn admitted. And extremely scared, she added inwardly.

She remained on the dock for a few more minutes. The lake was as still and black as spilled tar, and the sky above was overcast, the moon just a faint glow behind the clouds. The island was eerie and silent, the ruin just a dark outline hovering behind the trees. The very air seemed to vibrate with menace, and Quinn hurried inside, desperate to be behind closed doors, where there was light and love, and the people she cared about most in the world.

THIRTY-SEVEN

DECEMBER 1923

Ravenglass

Geneva’s hand went to her hair just as her gaze slid to Honor, whose own hair was pulled back and tied with a velvet ribbon. She and Honor had come outside to welcome their guests when they saw the motor passing through the gates. Grady stopped the car, then got out and held the door for Aunt Clarissa and Rose before walking round the back to unfasten their cases from the luggage rack. The ladies looked tired and a bit rumpled after the long train journey, and Aunt Clarissa smiled uncertainly, clearly not sure what to expect. But Rose grinned happily when she saw her cousins, and went directly to Honor. The two girls were the same age and had always been close.

“It’s so good to see you both,” Geneva said once she had exchanged air kisses with her aunt and cousin and they were ready to come inside.

“I have so much to tell you,” she heard Honor whisper to Rose as they followed Clarissa and Geneva into the foyer. “A lot has happened since I saw you at your father’s funeral.”

Rose, who looked wan in her dark-gray coat and hat, nodded eagerly, likely thrilled to be away from London and around people her own age. Or any people, really. Clarissa had barely left the house since her husband died and had made certain that Rose adhered to the mourning etiquette with the same zeal.

“You’re looking well,” Aunt Clarissa said. There was an edge to her voice that instantly put Geneva on her guard.

Aunt Clarissa was still a Bellamy, since she had married a cousin, and had always been extremely protective of her older brother and the family name. She had been fully apprised of the latest happenings and knew all about Jesse’s arrival and Douglas’s illness. She was not happy and needed Geneva to share her outrage at the situation. To look well was to wordlessly admit that she wasn’t sufficiently distressed for her aunt’s liking.

“It’s unthinkable,” Clarissa said to Geneva as soon as they were ensconced in the drawing room with a pot of tea and fresh scones. Although present, Honor was not included in the conversation, since, like Rose, who was silently sipping her tea, she was still thought of as a child. “To think that this stranger, this American,” she said with a disbelieving shake of the head, “is going to inherit my family home. And poor Douglas. His heart must be broken. I hope he is at least properly looked after.”

“Nurse Jeffries has been taking good care of him. She sits with Father for hours and reads to him, or they listen to music together.”

Clarissa glared at her. “I wasn’t speaking of the nurse. I hear you spent the day with this Jesseph individual. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” This time, Honor was included in the tirade. “Thinking of your own amusement while your poor father is fighting for every breath.”