pretty reliable and responsible. So is Emsie. I’m glad they’re there. Where’s Evan?’
‘I don’t know. I saw her drive off several hours ago.’
‘I’m sure she’ll soon return. Now, stay there by the phone and if Mark calls tell him to bring Adele back immediately. Be firm with him but civil. Try not to have a row.’
‘What if he wants to bargain with me? What if he wants something?’
‘Promise him anything. Just get that child back in your arms. Mark can be dealt with later.’
‘All right. But what if it’s not Mark? What if it really is a kidnapping, and they call, making demands?’
‘Listen to them. Agree to their demands, but explain it’s going to take you a while to get money together. Because I’m sure they’ll be asking for money … that’s what most kidnappings are about.’
‘I understand.’
‘Tessa?’
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing’s going to happen to Adele.’
‘But –’
‘I promise,’ Linnet cut in. ‘Don’t go into the grounds. You must be there to answer the phone. See you soon.’ With that she clicked off her mobile.
As soon as she saw a lay-by Linnet O’Neill pulled over and parked. She sat for a moment thinking about her sister’s phone call and Adele’s disappearance. She was filled with dismay, and extremely angry. I always knew that bastard wouldn’t go quietly, she thought, her mind zeroing in on Mark Longden. She had never liked him, had always believed him to be avaricious, ambitious, self-promoting. Years ago she had characterized him as a gold-digger who was after Tessa’s money, not to mention her prestige as a Harte; she had never quite understood why such a beautiful and clever young woman as her sister had married him. And he wasn’t a very good architect in her opinion, whatever others thought.
Their mother had told her recently that Mark Longden had physically and mentally abused Tessa, and much to her astonishment she had discovered she hadn’t been in the least bit surprised. She had always been aware that underneath his smarmy, phoney charm he was a nasty piece of work.
Linnet sat thinking about Adele’s sudden disappearance, and she realized she did not believe for one moment that the child had been kidnapped by strangers for ransom. She felt, deep within herself, that it was Mark Longden who had snatched his own child. Her gut instinct told her that it was a form of blackmail. He wanted something from the Hartes, and he was using his little daughter as a bargaining tool. The bastard, she muttered again, and cursed him under her breath.
‘“Everybody has a price and it isn’t always money,” that’s what Emma used to say to me,’ her mother had once told her, and Linnet had never forgotten those words. They were absolutely true. When it came right down to it, everybody had some kind of vulnerability, something they wanted to protect at any price, and very often money never came into play at all. There were other currencies for dealing.
From remarks her mother had made recently, Linnet knew that Mark Longden was not only drinking very heavily these days, but was also on drugs. It had troubled her then; it was certainly more worrying now. A man under the influence could easily become irresponsible, even erratic, and quite possibly violent – and therefore dangerous. She was fairly certain that Mark wouldn’t intentionally hurt his only child. But what if something went wrong with him, or others, and in the process Adele got hurt, albeit inadvertently?
It suddenly struck Linnet that thoughts of a similar nature must have occurred to Tessa. Never before had she heard her sister sound so vulnerable, nervous, and at such a loss about what to do than she had a few minutes ago. It seemed to her that the child’s abduction, because that was what it was, had rendered Tessa helpless.
Normally Tessa was a take-charge person who wanted to be top dog, so that she could run everything and boss everyone around. And very often, because of Tessa’s ambition to be their mother’s heir-apparent, the Dauphine as she called herself, Tessa and she had locked horns. But there was a family rule that went all the way back to Emma Harte and her brothers, and it had never been broken. No matter what the circumstances, a Harte was always loyal to a Harte. They had been brought up to stand strong and steady together in a fight, to defend each other against the world. To kill for each other, to take the bullet for each other, if necessary. Linnet knew all the Harte rules by heart and lived by them.
The child was Tessa’s vulnerable spot; Linnet was well aware of her sister’s deep and unwavering love for her child. The entire family loved Adele. The three-year-old girl was like a Botticelli angel, with her silver-gilt hair, silvery-grey eyes, and her exquisite little face. Beautiful and endearing, with genuine sweetness, she had touched them all in different ways. Linnet thought of Adele as one of those rare golden children, unique, almost spiritual. God forbid anything happened to her.
How to solve this dilemma? What to do? Linnet asked herself. And where to begin? Start driving for one thing, she decided, rousing herself from her myriad thoughts, releasing the brake and slowly pulling out onto the motorway.
Linnet knew she had to handle this. The very fact that Tessa had turned to her made her truly understand that her sister accepted that she herself was far too emotional to cope with the situation. I’ve got to deal with it fast, Linnet thought. Very fast. Today. It can’t be allowed to drag on. I’ve got to find Mark. Find that child. Immediately. Before anything goes wrong.
There really was only her. Her parents were in New York with Aunt Emily and Uncle Winston, which meant the four senior and most powerful members of the Harte family were out of action for the moment.
Gideon Harte? She thought of her cousin, her best friend, for a moment. He could be extremely helpful. He ran the Harte newspapers, was brilliant and street-wise, and he had every kind of resource at his disposal. Owning and running an international newspaper chain spelled one thing. Power. Immense power. Yes, she might have to pull Gideon into this, but right now what she really needed was an expert. A genuine professional. A policeman who wasn’t actually a policeman.
Jack Figg.
The name leapt into her mind at once. Harte’s security adviser, he was considered a member of the family. She had known him since childhood, thought of him as a pal. And so the moment she saw another lay-by ahead, Linnet pulled in and parked. Reaching for her hold-all, she groped around in it for her address book, and quickly found his name.
A few seconds later she was dialling Jack’s mobile number.
‘Figg here,’ he answered almost at once.
‘It’s Linnet, Jack.’
‘Hello, Beauty. What do you need?’
‘You, Jack. Please.’
‘I’m yours,’ he laughed, ‘anytime you want me.’
‘Remember what you said at Shane’s birthday party in June – that I could count on you in an emergency?’
‘I do. And you can.’
‘Thanks, Jack. There’s an emergency.’
‘Tell me everything I need to know.’
She did so, and gave him her own thoughts about what had happened.
‘The phone calls were meant to distract her, keep her busy. Where are you now, Linnet?’
‘Parked in a lay-by, about an hour away from Pennistone Royal. Are you in Robin Hood’s Bay?’
‘No, I’m outside York Minster with a friend. If I leave York now I’ll probably arrive at the house the same time as you. I’ll meet you there. But please tell Tessa you’ve asked me to help. Just in case I arrive before you.’
‘I will. And thanks, Jack.’
‘Anything for you, Beauty.’
He