Page 88 of The Forsaken
Quinn ignored his flippancy and reached for her mobile to call Gabe. The solicitor’s office was within walking distance, so there was no sense in Gabe interrupting Emma’s play time.
“Gabe, we’ll meet you at the playground as soon as we’re done. I don’t imagine it will take long. I’ll fill you in later,” Quinn assured him. “All right, Logan. Let’s go.”
She didn’t protest when Logan wrapped his arm casually about her shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but she appreciated the gesture of support. What they’d learned so far upset her, and she didn’t hold out any great hope for their interview with the lawyer. Solicitors were notoriously tight-lipped, so Quinn didn’t imagine he’d tell them much.
Logan pulled her close and lightly kissed her temple, nearly making her cry.
FIFTY-THREE
It took Quinn and Logan less than a quarter of an hour to reach the address Dr. Crawford had given them. On the ground floor, a discreet brass plaque by the door announced the offices of Richards and Saunders, Esqs. Logan rang the bell, since the door was locked, and they were buzzed through. It being a Saturday, there was no receptionist at the front desk. The office was quiet and dim, the lamps not having been lit in the reception area.
A nondescript-looking man in his early fifties came out to greet them. He was dressed casually, like someone who’d been enjoying a Saturday afternoon at home when he was rudely interrupted and yanked into the office.
“We’re sorry to have disturbed your weekend,” Quinn said as she accepted a seat opposite the massive mahogany desk in Mr. Richards’ office.
“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Russell. It’s not every day that I get this type of phone call,” Mr. Richards said, smiling kindly at Quinn and Logan. “How shocking this must have been for you both. May I ask how you came to learn about Quentin?”
“Yes. Reverend Alan Seaton of Leicester Cathedral told me there’d been another baby, left at a different location on the morning he found me in his church. My birth mother confirmed that she’d given birth to twins the night before and had taken my sister to a hospital.”
“That is quite correct. You do look like Quentin,” he added with a wistful smile.
“So you know her well?”
“Well enough. Her father and my father were great friends—golfing buddies. I’d known Dr. Crawford all my life, so by extension, I knew Quentin since the day Ian decided to adopt her.”
“Did you handle the adoption?” Quinn asked.
“My father did. I was still a student in those days. It went through very quickly, if I recall correctly.”
“Mr. Richards, where is Quentin?” Quinn asked, hearing the blood rushing in her ears. She was excited, nervous, and apprehensive all at once.
“Mrs. Russell, I am not at liberty to disclose personal information about my client. Surely you know that.”
“But under the circumstances!” Logan exclaimed.
“Mr. Wyatt, I give you that the circumstances are extraordinary, but I can’t break the attorney-client relationship. I can tell you that your sister is well, and I can offer to pass on anything you wish to send to her, like a letter or an email. Whether she chooses to respond is entirely up to her.”
“Can you tell us if she’s in the country?” Quinn asked.
“I’m really not sure. I haven’t been in contact with her for some time.”
“Is she married? Does she have any children?” For some reason, it was important to Quinn to know that. In some far-fetched fantasy, she could already see herself and Quentin sitting side by side in the garden as their children played on the lawn, laughing and chasing each other. Cousins. Friends.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Can’t you give me her contact information?” Quinn demanded. Surely it couldn’t hurt to send Quentin a direct email. It wasn’t as if Quinn would show up at her door or accost her on the street.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. That information in confidential.”
“We’ve tried to find her online, but there wasn’t a single hit for anyone named Quentin who might have been her,” Quinn persisted.
“Perhaps she’s not on social media,” Mr. Richards replied, his face expressionless.
“Even individuals who are not on social media leave an electronic footprint,” Logan argued.
The lawyer didn’t respond.
“Can you at least reach out to her and let her know we are searching for her?” Quinn pleaded.
