What Burns Within (6 page)

“What did you want to ask me?” he said as he sat down across from them, barely balancing on the edge of the couch, looking like he was prepared to jump up at a moment’s notice.

“How often does Taylor stay with you?” Tain asked.

“She’s here every other weekend with her brother. It’s in the custody agreement,” Mrs. Brennen said, returning to the room with a drink in her hand.

“And every weekend when you can’t be bothered with her because you’re screwing the aerobics instructor or the pool boy or some drunk fool you picked up at a bar or whoever else you can get your hands on.”

“I didn’t ship them off to you this weekend, did I?” she snapped back.

Nick jumped to his feet. “Because I was working and Mom couldn’t watch them, so you sent them to the fair. The fair. What the hell were you thinking, Connie? Maybe you’d pick up some vendor for a quick fling while the kids were entertaining themselves?”

She flung the drink in his face, and he slapped the glass out of her hand, sending it crashing to the floor where it shattered, sharp pieces scattering across the hardwood.

Ashlyn jumped between them. “Separate corners, now,” she said, pointing each in opposite directions.

“Waste of a good drink,” Connie muttered.

“Daddy?”

They all turned toward the hallway where Nicky Brennen stood wearing Blue Jays pajamas. He had tousled blond hair, a brown teddy bear in his hands.

“Hey, sport.” Nick took a step toward his namesake and knelt down. “Let’s get you back to bed, okay?”

“Actually, do you think I could talk to Nicky for a minute?” Ashlyn asked, glancing at Tain, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She crouched down beside the boy. “Would that be okay?”

He looked up at his dad, who said, “What do you want to know?”

“Can you think of anyone unusual you might have seen around recently, maybe when Taylor was staying here? Anyone who showed a lot of interest in her?”

Nick frowned for a moment before shaking his head, tossing a hand up in the air. “No.”

“Had Taylor gone to any sleepovers or parties lately, anywhere unusual?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” Connie stomped across the room from the corner Ashlyn had sent her to and sat down on a chair. “She was grabbed at the fair.”

“Mrs. Brennen, we have to consider every possibility,” Ashlyn said, glancing at Nicky. She wished she didn’t need to say this in front of him. “Someone may have been watching Taylor. They could have been waiting for an opportunity to take her. And it’s still possible that Taylor wasn’t taken by anyone, but that she’s wandering in the park and we just haven’t found her yet. It’s too soon to say anything for certain.”

“Come off it,” Nick Brennen said. “We all know what’s happened. This selfish bitch sent her ten-year-old daughter and eight-year-old son to the fair by themselves, and my little girl has been snatched by that sicko who’s been taking other girls. Remember that one, they found her body a few weeks back? And the other one, Isabel, I think her name is? She’s still missing, right?” Nick stared at Tain, who didn’t meet his gaze.

“Oh my God. You have…Is she…?”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

“Like hell you can’t! The same sick freak has my daughter. He has my little girl.” Nick Brennen’s body convulsed as he sank down on the couch and choked back a sob.

“It’s not going to make you sleep better,” Tain said quietly.

Nick lifted his head, his eyes bulging, red-rimmed. “What the hell makes you think I’ll be able to sleep at all?”

Ashlyn had asked Nicky to show her his room, in part to get him away from his parents. She’d been listening to Nicky identify every model car he owned. He had antiques and current cars, trucks and sedans of all shapes and sizes, and he knew his vehicles better than she did.

“You know the name of every single one. I’m very impressed,” Ashlyn said as Nicky finished labeling the cars that lined the bookshelves in his room.

He jumped into his bed and pulled the covers up over his head.

“Oops, you forgot somebody,” Ashlyn said, holding out the teddy bear, which was incredibly soft. The covers inched down slightly, revealing big puppy-dog eyes blinking up at her.

She sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I need to ask you something really important,” she told him.

His eyes got a little smaller. She suspected his smile had disappeared beneath the blanket.

“Was anybody talking to your sister, or maybe you saw someone following you around at the fair?”

Nicky scrunched his whole face up like a raisin and shook his head. “No.”

“How did you get separated?”

“I wanted to play at the park.”

“So you went by yourself?”

“Taylor wanted to get a charm and play games. I didn’t want to. I pulled on her hand, and she pulled on mine, and then people came and got between us.”

His eyes had gotten big again, but this time they were sagging down at the corners.

Ashlyn smiled. “I think I would have rather played at the park, too.”

Nicky looked down at the teddy bear in his hands. “But it’s my fault. I should have listened. Now Taylor’s gone.”

“Oh, no, it isn’t your fault. It was an accident that you two got separated. Accidents are nobody’s fault.”

“But Mommy said so. She said—”

Ashlyn shushed him softly. She tucked the covers in around him as he lay back against the pillow. “Your mom is just upset right now because she’s scared. Did you know grown-ups get scared sometimes?”

He seemed to think about it, his lips twisting with uncertainty at first and then forming a solid line. “Do you get scared?”

She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“If you have a night-light it keeps the monsters away,” he told her, eyes wide again as he shared his secret.

She smiled. “I’ll remember that. Do you want me to leave this light on too?”

He blinked and nodded.

“Good night, Nicky.”

Ashlyn got up and crossed the room, glancing at the bed where Nicky lay, his big dark eyes staring at her as she pulled the door shut.

“Is he okay?” Nick asked as Ashlyn returned to the living room.

She sat down beside Tain and looked at Nick. “I know this won’t be easy, but you need to reassure him that this isn’t his fault.”

“I told you to keep your bloody mouth shut,” Nick snapped as he glared at his ex-wife, his lips curling into a snarl.

“They were supposed to stay together.”

“Who the hell is the parent? He’s eight years old. For Christ’s sake, Connie.”

“Here we go, always blaming me for everything. I deal with them day in and day out. At least I don’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“Listen, you two aren’t helping. And if you keep this up, I’m personally going to call social services again and have them do a child removal and see that Nicky goes to a foster family that isn’t going to heap abuse on him.” Tain pointed at Connie Brennen. “As it is, you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do already. Your ex-husband can contest the custody arrangement and likely take your children away from you for good. Don’t tempt me to testify on his behalf.”

Nothing but the distant hum of cars could be heard for a few moments, and even then it wasn’t much of a hum. Tain glanced at the clock, finally realizing how late it was.

“I don’t think there’s anything else to night. Mrs. Brennen, it’s likely best that you go home now,” Tain said as he stood.

Connie glanced at her ex-husband, who kept his eyes directed at the coffee table and didn’t extend an invitation for her to stay. After a moment she stood up, walked to the door and pulled it open without a word, stomping down the steps as the door slammed shut behind her.

Ashlyn took a card from her pocket. “If you need anything, Nick, call.”

He looked up then, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he took the card from her hand, nodded and looked away.

Craig knocked again. This time he heard soft footsteps in the hall, followed by the sound of a deadbolt being retracted. Then a voice, muffled at first before coming into focus.

“Let me, Sara.”

The door opened as far as the latched chain would allow, and Craig held up his ID for scrutiny. The man, who Craig guessed to be about his own age, pushed the door shut and then opened it fully.

“Matt McPherson,” the man said, offering his hand. Matt had a firm grip.

“Constable Craig Nolan.”

He followed Matt down the hallway, into a bright, open kitchen and dining area. A woman sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a mug, a thick sweater pulled around her body. She looked up.

Her blue eyes were overshadowed by dark circles, her cheeks gaunt. Even though she was sitting down, Craig could see that her clothing hung limply on her frame, as if she’d lost a lot of weight recently, and not weight she’d needed to lose.

“Constable Craig Nolan. I believe we spoke earlier on the phone.”

She nodded as Craig pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

“I realize this must be very difficult for you, Mrs. McPherson. I’m not here to pressure you or to make things worse.”

“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t…” She swallowed. For a moment he saw nothing but her auburn hair tumbling over her head, and then she looked up as she hastily brushed her tears away before offering a short, hollow laugh. “There’s nothing you can do that would make this worse.”

Craig wished that were true, but he knew it wasn’t. It was amazing the comfort people could find in a lie.

Matt came to the table and sat down, a cup of coffee in his hands. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even think to ask. Can I get you a cup?”

“That’s okay. Really.” He paused.

The woman across the table from him looked up. “You want to know what happened?”

“To start, when did this happen? You said you haven’t been eating or sleeping, so I gather it’s been days.”

“Try weeks,” Matt said. “She wouldn’t even tell me.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Matthew.”

“You aren’t here, are you, Sara? It’s like you’re hiding behind this wall and you won’t talk to anybody. Not your sister or your mother or our minister. Sure as hell not me.”

There was silence at the table for a moment, and then Sara turned to Craig, something resembling a spark of anger flickering in her eyes. “And what do you have to say about that?”

Craig took a deep breath. “I can give you the number for victim’s ser vices. You can talk to someone who’s been through what you’ve been through, if that makes it easier for you.”

“So you think I should just bare my soul to the world too?”