Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
London
Once again Quinn was jolted out of the vision, and she dropped the earring.
She had intentionally left her phone on, afraid to miss a call or text from Logan.
It took her a moment to get her bearings but, once she was in the here and now, she lunged for the phone and answered the incoming call without bothering to check the caller ID.
“Mrs. Russell?” a female voice asked.
“Yes. Speaking.”
“Ruth Watley here.” Ruth’s voice was tense and shrill.
“Is Max all right?” Quinn exclaimed, instantly alarmed.
“Max is fine, but there was an incident, and I think it would be best if you came to collect him right away.”
“What sort of incident?”
Ruth inhaled sharply. “Someone tried to take Max. A woman. Naturally, we didn’t hand him over, but I have a mind to call the police.”
“Who was she? What did she say?”
“She said Mr. Wyatt had asked her to get him from the nursery.”
“Did she give a name?” Quinn asked, her own voice tense and shrill now.
“She did, yes. She said her name was Quinn Russell. She even had ID in your name.”
“Oh my God,” Quinn whispered. “Do you have an image of this woman?”
“We don’t take photos of individuals who come to collect the children.”
“But surely you have security cameras.”
A pause. “Yes, we do.”
“Then I will need a screenshot, Ms. Watley. I’m going to the police.”
Ruth sighed. “I will get you that screenshot. Now, please come and get Max. I’m very sorry to do this, but I think it would be best if he didn’t return until this situation is resolved. We cannot afford to endanger the other children or members of staff.”
Quinn experienced a flash of anger but managed to remain calm. Ruth Watley was doing the right thing, the only thing she could do under the circumstances. It was up to Quinn to figure out what was going on, but, before she did anything, she had to have eyes on Max.
“I’ll be right there, Ms. Watley,” she said. “Please, do not let Max out of your sight,” she added when she checked the clock. The children usually played outside for an hour after lunch, and she didn’t want Max to leave the building.
“I will keep him inside and wait with him in my office,” Ruth promised.
“Thank you.”
Quinn was already ringing Gabe as she pushed her feet into trainers, grabbed her bag and keys, and raced to the car.
“I’ll meet you there,” Gabe said. “Do not leave until I arrive.”
“I understand. I’m frightened, Gabe,” Quinn wailed. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we know Max is safe.”
The drive to the nursery school seemed to take an age.
The streets were congested with lunchtime traffic, and Quinn found herself leaning on the horn a lot more often than was strictly necessary since there was little anyone could do other than wait for the traffic to clear.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled up in front of the school.
Everything appeared to be quiet and there were no police cars in sight, which had to mean that Max was still safely inside.
One of the other teachers buzzed her in and escorted her to Ruth Watley’s office.
Max sat on a beanbag in the corner, a picture book in his lap.
He was pretending to read a story to a stuffed dog he was holding, and he seemed happy and calm.
Ruth Watley sat across from him, her gaze fixed on the child as if he might vanish at any moment.
Quinn noted that the positioning of the beanbag made it impossible to see Max through the window, which was good thinking on Ruth’s part in case someone was lurking behind the building.
“I just sent you the screenshot,” Ruth said.
Quinn pulled out her mobile and opened the attachment.
Based on the angle of the image, the camera had to be above the front door, since the woman was walking up to the building.
She must have been aware she was being filmed because she’d kept her head down.
All Quinn could see was that the woman had wavy dark hair and pale skin.
It was impossible to clearly see her features.
Beneath a short black raincoat, she wore a green top and jeans, and white trainers on her feet.
Quinn couldn’t even make out her age. She could have been anyone from anywhere.
“Is there anything more you can tell me about her? Did she resemble me?” Quinn asked.
“A bit, but I think she was younger.”
“And what sort of ID did she show you?”
“I don’t recall what it was,” Ruth admitted. “I became so flustered when she claimed to be you, I didn’t even bother to look at the identification.”
Quinn looked at the image again. There were probably few people in the UK who hadn’t seen a promotional advert for the Echoes from the Past program, but the host was listed as Dr. Quinn Allenby, not plain Quinn Russell, so whoever met this woman might not put two and two together and realize that she was meant to be the same person.
This woman clearly knew that Quinn Russell was Max’s aunt and was listed as Logan’s emergency contact.
And if she had presented her phony ID to someone who’d never met Quinn, they might have surrendered Max to her, which was a terrifying thought.
Max had finished reading the story and was watching Quinn from his spot in the corner.
“Ready to go home, buddy?” Quinn asked him.
She tried to sound upbeat and unconcerned, but Max’s expression turned quizzical. He knew it was too early to leave for the day since he’d just had lunch.
“My home?” he asked.
“No, my home.”
“Will Daddy be there?”
“No, sweetheart, but Uncle Gabe is coming to meet us.”
Max set aside the book and the dog and climbed off the beanbag.
He silently walked to the door, his little shoulders hunched and his mouth turned down at the corners.
He might be five, but he understood in that instinctive way children did that something bad was happening and he was at the center of it.
“Why would someone want to take Max?” Ruth hissed as soon as he was through the door.
“I don’t know,” Quinn replied. Then a thought occurred to her, and she asked, “Did this woman have an accent?”
“No. Why?”
“No reason. Thank you, Ms. Watley. I will keep you apprised of the situation.”
“Please do. We will all be thinking about Max.”
Quinn helped Max on with his jacket, then took his things from his cubby and put them in his school satchel.
When Gabe texted to say he was outside, she took Max by the hand, and together they walked out, Max looking dejected and Quinn walking as if a hidden sniper were about to take her out.
She breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.
“Hey, mate,” Gabe said to Max as soon as they reached the gate. “Did you have a good day?”
“No,” Max replied broodily.
“Me neither,” Gabe replied.
“Why not?”
“Because sometimes people can be difficult,” Gabe said.
“What people?”
“The people who’re supposed to know better.”
Max nodded wisely, and Gabe lifted him and strapped him into the child seat. After a moment’s consideration, he got into the back seat with Max and put his arm around the boy. Max sighed like a little old man and rested his head on Gabe’s shoulder, then reached out and took his hand.
“Let’s go home,” Gabe said.
Quinn didn’t need to be told twice. Home felt like the only safe place.
They didn’t discuss the situation in front of Max.
Quinn focused on driving. She knew she was probably being silly, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she were being watched.
Gabe and Max played a game in which Gabe would call out a type of vehicle and a color, and Max would have to spot it and point it out.
When they got home, Gabe and Max settled in to play a loud video game while Quinn hurried upstairs to phone Sean Cadogan.
She was a bit breathless when he answered and spoke in run-on sentences as she relayed what had happened. Sean heard her out without interrupting, then asked her to forward the screenshot of the woman.
“She knew where the camera was,” he said once he’d looked at the image.
“Yes.”
“And she doesn’t seem familiar at all?”
“No. Maybe if I saw her face…”
“The situation has clearly escalated,” Sean said, and Quinn almost let out a bitter bark of laughter.
You think? she wanted to say, but bit her tongue.
“Should I go to the police?” she asked instead.
She was actually surprised that Ruth Watley hadn’t reported the incident to the police, but Ruth had probably thought it wise to avoid any kind of negative publicity for the school and had left the decision to Quinn.
“Not yet, but I’m going to get in touch with a former colleague at Scotland Yard, and we’ll see what we can discover. In the meantime, I think you need to make sure your family is safe.”
“Do you think we’re in danger?”
“We don’t know how far this person or whoever she’s working with will go to grab Max.
Or how they’re involved in Logan’s disappearance.
The woman clearly knows your name and your relationship to Max, and that you’re Logan’s emergency contact and the one person authorized to collect Max from the nursery school.
Doubtless she also knows where you live. That gives her an advantage.”
Quinn’s panic began to mount. She’d half hoped that Sean would say something that would calm her, but he was clearly no longer treating Logan’s disappearance as voluntary and was obviously concerned not only for Max’s safety but also for the rest of them.
And Quinn would never knowingly endanger her children.
“What should we do?”
“I think you should go away for a few days.”
“The children have school,” she said without thinking, then realized how unimportant that was in the face of a possible kidnapping.
“It’s Wednesday,” Sean pointed out. “If they miss Thursday and Friday, it’s not the end of the world. Tell the school they’re ill.”
“And Monday they have an INSET day. It’s only for teachers, so the children don’t have to attend,” Quinn recalled.
“Even better,” Sean replied. “I will have answers for you by the time you return. You have my word.”
“Where should we go?” Quinn asked. “Where is safe?”
“You were just in the Lake District, weren’t you?” Sean asked.
“Yes.”
“Go back there. Find a place to stay that has good views all around. That way you’ll see someone coming before they get to you.
And do not look for a rental on your computer or mobile,” he warned.
“Just stop into a holiday rentals place once you arrive and ask what’s available.
Pay in cash. And make sure to turn off the tracking on all phones before you leave London.
” He paused momentarily, then thought of something else.
“A rental vehicle would be best, if you can swing it on such short notice. Again, do not book it on your device.”
“Why can’t we take our car?”
“Because if someone is watching your house and they see your car in the driveway, they’ll assume you’re still here.”
Quinn was struck momentarily dumb. Sean was schooling her in the rudiments of spycraft, and the absurdity of it left her reeling, since this was suddenly her real life.
“Do you really think that whoever is doing this is so sophisticated that they can track our every move?” she asked, her voice trembling with anxiety.
Sean sighed audibly. “Probably not, but, until we know who or what we’re dealing with, it’s best to take basic precautions and reveal as little as possible about your plans online.”
“Can I still use my phone?”
“Yes, but turn off the Wi-Fi. All of you.”
“All right,” Quinn muttered.
“I will ring you as soon as I know anything,” Sean promised.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m forever in your debt.”
“You’re very welcome. Now go,” he instructed. “Stay safe, and keep out of sight.”
After a whispered conference with Gabe, the two of them sprang into action, and within an hour they were on their way, Gabe behind the wheel of a nondescript silver minivan with Manchester plates.
The children asked endless questions about where they were going, why, what had happened to their own motor, and, in Emma’s case, why she couldn’t use the Wi-Fi on her phone.
They also wanted to know why Rufus couldn’t come along and had to be left at a kennel.
Quinn and Gabe answered as truthfully as they could without alarming them unnecessarily, which was no easy feat since the children weren’t ready to accept that they were going on a surprise minibreak.
They were fleeing London, but Quinn had no idea what they were getting away from or what they might be running towards.