Page 8 of Payback

The male voice at the other end of the phone spoke.

Mom’s features melted into a pleasant smile. “Oh. How are you, Philippe?”

Chapter 3

A palpitation seized my heart. It reverberated through my chest and shook me to the marrow. Suspicion joined in and kicked me in the gut. Philippe. I turned to where the boys sat at another row of the Promenade and waved them over. Blake and Edward exchanged confused looks and rose from their seats.

The pianist tinkled a relaxing tune, but the sounds only made my muscles tense. I needed to hear what this Philippe was saying. Mom continued a pleasant conversation with Philippe, and I leaned across the table, straining to listen to his voice. Her delicate brows scrunched into a quizzical frown, and she tilted the phone, so I could hear.

“Monsieur cannot spare the private jet and would like to know if a first-class ticket on British Airways will suffice,” said the same, creepy Frenchman from the night before.

My lips tightened. Philippe had to be more than an employee of the Saturday Correspondent. Blake and Edward stood by our table, both seeming to recognize Philippe’s voice.

Mom’s expression turned from quizzical to worried, and she said, “Can we continue this conversation later in the afternoon? I’m having problems with my order.”

“Of course,” said the smooth voice from the other side of the line. “A bien tôt, Madame.”

She clicked the End button and gestured for the boys to sit. “What’s wrong?”

“Who’s Philippe?” I asked.

“Rudolph’s European Personal Assistant,” she replied. “Why?”

A mixture of triumph and disgust rippled through my insides. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, but vindicating, all the same. Turning to Mom, I said, “There’s a girl at my school who lured me to London with a fake party invitation.”

Mom clutched at her chest, her breathing ragged. “What happened?”

My mouth opened and closed as I formed the best way to skim over being beaten and groped by Mr. Carbuncle. The more I hesitated, the more her face slackened until she looked like she’d been punched.

“Blake rescued me and took me to Kensington Palace,” I blurted.

“Kensington—” Her gaze darted to Blake. “What on earth is going on?”

Blake, who sat in the seat next to Mom, placed a hand on her wrist. In a soothing voice, he said, “Two men employed by Philippe abducted Emilia and wanted to hold her for ransom.” The tone sounded so well-practiced, I wondered if he had used it often on his mother. “I found her less than an hour after she was taken and carried her away to safety.”

Mom’s brows drew together. “Anyone who works closely with Rudolph would know never to cross him.”

The waiter who had been tending to Blake and Edward paused at our table. He leaned into Edward, and after a whispered conversation, he walked back through the Promenade and disappeared behind the piano.

Blake turned back to Mom. “We believe Mr. Trommel instructed Philippe to organize the kidnapping, perhaps in revenge for a disagreement he had with Emilia.”

Mom’s eyes bulged, and she turned to me, her expression a mask of slack incredulity. Her arms wrapped around her middle, and she asked, “Disagreement?”

I told her all about how I had volunteered to get revenge on some classmates by gathering information on them to be published in his failing newspaper. The waiters brought the boys’ plates, and we continued breakfast, albeit at a much slower pace. Mom’s face turned from furious to pale to disgusted. As I told her about him forcing me to return to Mercia Academy after my cover would have been blown, she bowed her head with the weight of my news.

“I didn’t know.” Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “He’s known for being ruthless in business, but I didn’t think it would carry over to his personal life.”

My stomach twisted into a knot, and a tight fist of guilt clutched at my heart. “Sorry for piling this all on you. But I’m fine. I survived.”

She shook her head. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t remarried.”

“Mrs. Trommel,” said Blake. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have married him if you had known the extent of his malevolence.”

“I would never have even spoken to him if I knew he was capable of all these things.” With hands that shook so hard the glass clanked against her rings, Mom brought her water glass to her lips and sipped.

“Then your guilt is misplaced,” added Edward.

“Rudolph will pay for what he did to you,” Mom snarled.