In Broad Daylight (5 page)

She's been with them for several years. I told Annie's mother it might be wise to give Ms.

Danridge instructions on what she wanted her to say if the kidnappers called."

Nathan shook his head. Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked at the young woman.

"You ever stop being a teacher, Mrs. York, we could certainly use you on the force."

She smiled at him, dismissing the compliment with grace. "Just covering bases."

The woman was clearheaded, Dax thought. He liked that. The women he came in contact

with outside his own family tended to be a little foggy when it came to that department.

It was actually something he thought of as a plus. That way, he wouldn't be tempted to

make a mistake and get involved with any of them on more than just a passing, superficial

level.

He came up behind her and looked over her shoulder at the sketch she was completing. It

was of the woman. Her face was gaunt and there was a slight edge to it, a sharpness that

made the viewer wary. "You really can draw."

Brenda looked up at him. "I told you I could."

"So you did." He extrapolated on what she'd just told him. "You know theTyler's

housekeeper?"

"Only by sight."

She'd been to the house once, to talk to Annie's parents about Annie. Martha Danridge

had let her in and brought her to Annie's mother. Annie's father was away, which seemed

par for the course, and her mother, completely forgetting about the appointment that had

been made to discuss Annie's painful shyness, had been on her way out. Perforce, the

conversation had been brief. Rebecca Allen-Tyler had thanked her for her concern and

dismissed her the way she might a waiter who'd brought the wrong order to her table.

Brenda's heart had gone out to the little girl, knowing her mother undoubtedly treated

her with the same regard: as something to be suffered, but not necessarily with patience.

People like that, she thought, didn't deserve having a bright, sensitive little girl like Annie.

Dax made a judgment call. "Close enough," he told her.

She didn't understand. "For what?"

He had a feeling she could smooth the way for them with the housekeeper faster than

they could manage themselves. Badges tended to rattle people and the situation was

already stressful enough. He'd seen her in action with both jittery teachers and anxious

children. Her calming effect would be welcomed.

"I'd like you to come with us," he explained. He could feel Nathan staring at him. "You can finish the second sketch on the way there."

Brenda nodded. Her mouth curved. She was eager to do what she could. Being suddenly

cast adrift while the detectives went on with the investigation would have made her

insane.

"All right. I just need to stop by my room to get my things. I'll meet you outside."

Dax nodded his agreement and she hurried back to her classroom.

The stillness met her at the door the moment she opened it. It seemed to accuse her of

negligence.

I'll find you, Annie, I promise I will,she vowed silently.

Taking her purse from the bottom drawer in her desk, she turned around only to swallow a

gasp. Harwood was standing almost directly behind her.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I guess we're all a little jumpy right now." As she started for the door, he took her arm, detaining her for a moment. She looked at him quizzically.

"I just want you to know that I don't for a moment think you have anything to do with

this." He paused, searching for words. She noticed that there was a thin line of

perspiration on his upper lip. This had to be very difficult for him, she thought. The

academy was his whole life. To have its reputation jeopardized this way had to have him

cringing inwardly. "And I don't hold you responsible."

In a day and age when people were quick to shed blame and point fingers in an attempt to

get attention refocused somewhere else, she was grateful for his taking the time to

reassure her. He had no way of knowing about the precarious state she felt herself in.

"Thank you."

Harwood took her hand in both of his and nodded in the general direction of the front of

the school. She knew he meant to indicate the two detectives who were out there, waiting

for her.

"Are you up to this? Going to Annie's house, I mean. I can take you home if you're not. No

one'll think the less of you."

As if she could go home. As if she could find a shred of peace until the little girl was

recovered, safe and sound.

Very delicately, Brenda pulled her hand away from his. "I'm fine, Matthew," she assured him. "I just want to do anything I can to help."

He sighed and nodded. "Of course you do. We all do." He walked with her to the hall. "Call me and let me know if I can do anything for theTylers."

"I will," she promised, then hurried down the long corridor to the massive double doors at the front of the building.

Outside, Dax and Nathan waited by the car. Unlike when they'd first arrived, there were

few cars left. One by one, the teachers had all been dismissed, the children, as soon as

they were quizzed, had been sent home. The only sign that something was amiss were the

two patrol cars parked on the far side of the lot. But even that was being wrapped up.

Nathan waited in vain for an explanation. Finally, he asked, "Do you know what you're

doing? Isn't taking the kid's teacher, along a little unorthodox? Even if she is a knockout."

"Her being a knockout has nothing to do with it and no, it's not a little unorthodox, it's a lot unorthodox," Dax corrected him. "But I've got a feeling she might be useful. She

seems to know the kid pretty well and she's got this calming effect on people."

Other than himself, he added silently. One of the teachers had been close to hysteria

once she discovered the reason for their presence on the premises. Brenda had calmed the

woman down sufficiently so that she could give them a statement. The teacher hadn't

noticed anything out of the ordinary, but if she had, Brenda would have been responsible

for getting it out of her.

Besides, something told him to keep the woman close. He wasn't sure just which instincts

he was going on, but by and large, he'd learned to trust them and he wasn't about to

dismiss them now.

He straightened as he saw Brenda hurry through the double doors. The slight sultry

breeze was playing with the ends of her hair that had come undone from the knot she'd

arranged her hair into.

Damn but she was one hell of a good-looking woman, he thought again.

Martha Danridge was visibly trembling as she admitted them into what could only be

termed a mansion some twenty-five minutes later. The three-storied building, complete

with stables, a tennis court and two pools, sat atop a hill that was at the end of a long,

winding road. The first time Brenda had seen it, she'd thought of a castle nestled in the

center of a fairy tale. And Annie was the lonely princess.

Rebecca Allen-Tyler had spared the time to tell her that it was an actual castle,

transplanted fromIrelandand rebuilt stone by stone because she'd fallen in love with it on

their honeymoon.

The king and queen, it seemed, spent hardly any time at all in their castle with their

princess.

The housekeeper seemed barely capable of processing their names as Dax introduced

himself and Nathan, then indicated Brenda. "And you already know Annie's teacher, Brenda

York."

"Yes, I already know Mrs. York." The crisp English accent seemed at odds with the

nervous expression on the older woman's face. One hand was working the edge of her

apron as she closed the front door. "Mrs. Tyler isn't here."

"But she did call you," Annie said.

"Yes." Tears welled up in the woman's brown eyes and she looked close to breaking down

right before them. She covered her mouth with her hands, holding back a sob until she

could regain some measure of control over her voice. "How could such a terrible thing

happen? That poor little bit of a thing, she must be so frightened."

Brenda slipped her arm around the woman's shoulders in mute comfort. It was the same

thought that kept crossing and recrossing her own mind ever since she realized Annie

wasn't out on the lawn with the rest of the class. Chillingly, she'd known that something

was very, very wrong right from the first.

"The important thing is that we're going to get her back," Brenda assured the woman who sobbed into her handkerchief. The doorbell rang and Brenda's head bobbed up, alert.

"That's going to be the tech team," Dax told the housekeeper. He'd placed a call, giving them theTylers' address, while he and Nathan had waited for Brenda.

Motioning to the housekeeper not to trouble herself, Nathan fell back and opened the

front door. Two men and one woman, all carrying large black bags that looked like

suitcases, walked in.

Dax approached the housekeeper. "We're going to need to place bugs on all your phone

lines."

"Yes, of course," Martha whispered, her voice cracking.

She was still shaking, Brenda noted. Again she slipped her arm around the woman's thin

shoulders and gave her a little squeeze.

"Why don't you show them where all the phones are?" she suggested gently.

Like a marionette whose string had been pulled, Martha nodded, her head bobbing up and

down.

But before she could leave the foyer, Dax moved in front of her. "There hasn't been a

ransom call yet, has there?"

"No." She swallowed hard, renewed panic entering her eyes as she looked from one

detective to the other, and then at Brenda. "At least, I don't think so. I was out at the

store until just a little while ago, when Mrs. Tyler called me. There are no message on the

answering machine," she tagged on as if to cover her absence.

Dax didn't know if the woman was simpleminded or just addled by the situation.

"Kidnappers don't generally leave messages on answering machines."

"Oh." She seemed completely deflated as she looked to Brenda for help.

"You have caller ID, don't you?" Brenda asked. It seemed a safe enough assumption. A

power couple like Annie's parents would want the service to help them avoid people they

didn't want to talk to.

Again, Martha bobbed her head up and down. Brenda saw a phone in the living room and

crossed to it. She spun the dial located in the upper right-hand corner. No calls other than

the one with a 212 area code had registered in the last three hours. That would have been

Annie's mother, calling fromNew Yorkwith instructions for the housekeeper.

Brenda looked at Dax and shook her head. He turned toward the team Nathan had just

admitted. "Let's get those taps set up. The kidnappers might be calling any minute now."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the telephone began to ring.

Everyone froze.

«^»

Marthastared at the pristine white telephone as if it were a giant snake, coiled and poised

to spring at her. Her eyes were huge as she turned them on Dax.

"Oh, my God, it's ringing." Fear resonated in her voice. "What do I do?"

It was too late to set up the wire tap. They had to hope for a second call. Dax looked at

the housekeeper. "Answer it," he ordered

She began to visibly tremble.

"I can't," the housekeeper choked out the words. "Please don't make me." Frantic, Martha looked from one detective to the other. "What if I say the wrong thing? I just couldn't

live with myself if something happens to that child because of me—"

Dax did a poor job of hiding his exasperation. The seconds were ticking away fast and the

phone continued to ring. "Look, lady—"

Not knowing what else to do, afraid that the moment and the call would slip through their

fingers, Brenda snatched up the receiver.

"Tylerresidence," she enunciated in what she prayed was a fair imitation of Martha's

English accent.

Surprised, Dax stared at her. In desperation, because the kidnapper might be expecting a

woman's voice on the other end, he was about to tell Brenda to answer the telephone, but

she'd anticipated him. The woman had a cool head, he thought.

Making eye contact, he indicated that she should keep the person on the other end of the

line talking. If the kidnapper talked, there was a slim chance that a clue, a noise in the

background, might be picked up, one that would help them locate where Annie Tyler was

being held.

Brenda felt as if her stomach was going to revolt and come surging out of her mouth any

time now. Her morning communes with the porcelain bowl were a thing of the past only by

two weeks. And this felt much worse than morning sickness.

Concentrating on the kidnapper, she was still vaguely aware that six sets of eyes were

trained on her.

The police technicians and two detectives were gathered in a semicircle around her,

obviously straining to hear the other side of the conversation. She held on to the receiver

with both hands, tilting the ear piece slightly so that at least some of the dialogue could

be made out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Martha sinking onto the sofa.

The instant she heard the voice on the other end, Brenda knew she hadn't a prayer of

trying to recognize it. The kidnapper could have been a man or a woman for all she knew.

They were using a voice synthesizer. The irritating vibrations sounded like words being