In Broad Daylight (2 page)

before they literally marched back into the building.

Hushed whispers hummed in the air like June bugs, all, he guessed, centering around his

and Nathan's recent arrival. He returned one child's gaze and smiled before turning back

around.

His eyes met Brenda's completely by accident. Hers were a deep crystal blue. Intense,

shining like two blue lights, they seemed to penetrate his very soul. He could have sworn

there was some kind of electrical shock that had gone through him.

She lowered her eyes and turned back away.

Dax felt like a survivor of a train wreck who hadn't been aware that the train had even

gone off course until the impact had hit.

Behind him, Nathan stood up on his toes. "One step at a time, buddy, one step at a time."

He gave Nathan a dirty look. Nathan gave him a knowing one.

They entered the building. The floors were polished to a high sheen, but were amazingly

non-slippery. Lawsuits obviously were the scourge of even a place like Harwood. Well-cared

for wooden doors lined both sides of the corridor like timeless, learned sentries. The

headmaster brought them to the far end of the hall.

"We can talk in here," Harwood was saying.

Opening a door, he led them into a somber room whose walls were lined from floor to

ceiling with books. The only break in the decor were two windows that somehow managed

to filter out the light and allowed only gloom into the medium-sized room, and the door

which seemed to shyly claim a space amid massive bookshelves.

Once the door was closed behind them, all noise, soft or otherwise, from the outside

world ceased to exist. For a moment, the only sounds evident were the individual breaths

that they took.

It was a room designed for intimidation, Dax thought. Any kid who was called in here was

already scared out of his or her mind. He exchanged looks with Nathan and could tell that

the same thought had crossed his partner's mind as well.

Rather than stand with them, the headmaster took his place behind the massive desk;

whether to demarcate his position or to keep himself separated from the situation, Dax

didn't know, but it came across as a definite power play of some sort.

The teacher, he noted, remained with him and his partner. Joining ranks? Or infiltrating

the enemy?

She smelled of jasmine, or maybe gardenias. He never could get things like flowers

straight. To him, a flower was a flower. But the scent, well, that was pretty unnerving right

now.

For the first time in his life, he wished he had a cold, or some kind of allergy that would

have blocked his nasal capacity. He found the scent seductive.

Just like the woman.

Brenda York appeared agitated, he noted. Was that natural concern on her part? Or was

there something else at play here? He had too little input to go on and his gut was

otherwise occupied, giving him no clue.

The thing that sometimes bothered him about his chosen way of life was that he could

never look at anything simply. Everything had two sides and, like as not, multi-layers that

usually needed unraveling. It made simplicity a thing of the past and an unattainable dream

these days.

Harwood cleared his throat. But right now, Dax was more interested in what Brenda York

had to say. He turned toward her, the action blocking out the headmaster.

"Are you the one who first noticed she was missing?" Dax asked her.

She still couldn't believe any of this was happening. It was like a nightmare, a horrible,

horrible nightmare and she was waiting to wake up. Except that she was already awake.

Calm, you have to stay calm. You can't help Annie if you're not calm.

She realized she was clenching her hands at her sides, digging her nails into her palms.

She forced herself to open them. "Yes."

The single word sounded tortured to Dax. An act? The truth? For the time being, he gave

her the benefit of the doubt as he began to ask his questions. Out of the corner of his

eye, he saw Nathan take out his pad. Nathan believed in writing everything down. As for

him, he kept all the notes in his head. He'd always had that ability, to go into the recesses

of his mind and pluck out whatever tiny fact he needed whenever he needed it.

He watched her face, looking for any telltale sign that might give him a clue as to what

she was thinking, what she was really feeling. "Are you sure she's missing? Maybe she

wandered in with another group of kids. I saw a lot of activity going on when we pulled up—

"

This time, Harwood was the one who cut in. "Our children are taught discipline from the

very first day they come toHarwoodAcademy," he informed Dax with alacrity. "They do

not wander."

Dax couldn't tell if the man was taking offense on behalf of his students, or if he felt

that anything other than perfect behavior reflected badly on him.

In complete control of the situation, Dax lifted a shoulder and carelessly let it fall again.

"Yeah, but kids are still kids. There's all this noise and excitement going on, firefighters, trucks, ambulances—"

"Ambulance," Harwood corrected automatically. "There was only one."

Dax inclined his head. The man was a stickler, he thought. Possibly a little obsessive. He

was grateful that his parents hadn't had the money to send him to a private school.

"Ambulance," he allowed. "With all this confusion, she might have taken the opportunity to duck out on you and get in with one of her friends."

If only, Brenda thought.If only.

But she'd searched the area, asking all the children who might have seen her if they had.

Each time, she'd gotten a shake of the head in response. The tiny mouse of a child, who

reminded her so much of herself at that age, was nowhere to be found.

"That's just it," Brenda told him, her voice growing a little more firm with every word she uttered, "Annie doesn't really have any friends."

There was a glimmer of pain in her eyes as she told him that. Dax couldn't help wondering

if it was genuine, or if he'd been confronted with a very good actress. It certainly

wouldn't have been the first time a kidnapper had tried to put something over on him.

And until proven otherwise, he had to think of her that way. As someone who might

somehow be involved in the kidnapping, if that was what it actually was. After all, Annie

Tyler was last seen in her care.

Glancing at Nathan before continuing, Dax crossed his arms before him. A full moment

went by before he spoke again. Time, his father had told him early in his career, was both

their friend and their enemy. The more time that went by, the less likely a missing child

was to be found. But if you gave a guilty person who wasn't a hardened criminal enough

time, they tended to say or do something to incriminate themselves.

Dax studied the blond woman before him, trying not to notice that, even though she was

wearing a lavender two-piece suit, the killer figure she possessed was more than evident.

He motioned her toward a seat, but she shook her head, obviously preferring to stand.

Or refusing to be placed in the position of having someone stand over her.

He placed himself so that he could easily look at both her and the headmaster. "All right,

Mrs. York, why don't you tell us exactly what happened. And start at the beginning. Before

the fire trucks." He watched her chest rise as she take in a deep breath. Steeling himself

off, he forced his eyes to her face. "Take your time," he counseled quietly. "And don't leave anything out."

«^»

Her mind felt as if it were completely jumbled up, with all the thoughts glued together in

one giant ball. Brenda strove to peel apart the layers, arranging the events of the last hour

in their proper sequence.

Because she didn't begin immediately, Dax fired a question at her. Patience, when it came

to cases, had never been his strong suit. The few times he had been assigned to a

stakeout, he had all but climbed up one side of the wall and down the other.

"Let's begin with the fire." He pinned her with a look. "Was there an actual fire?" He hadn't smelled any smoke entering the building, but something or someone had to have set

off the alarm.

As if riding to her rescue, Harwood drew himself up behind his desk.

"Yes, there was," he cut in. "A small one." He glanced at Brenda before adding, "The fire chief told me that some papers in a wastepaper basket had caught fire. They used one of

our fire extinguishers to put it out. It turned out simpler that way."

Dax exchanged looks with Nathan. Wastepaper baskets didn't just spontaneously

combust. "That sounds as if it might have been deliberately set." His gaze swept over

Brenda before returning to the headmaster. "Are any of your kids budding pyromaniacs or

overly fascinated with matches?"

Brenda's eyes widened at the suggestion. "No!" she snapped. Some of her pupils were

starved for attention and might on occasion act out, but they were five- and six-years-old

and that kind of behavior was only normal.

Harwood was sputtering indignantly. "I assure you that my school—"

Dax waved his hand in a downward motion, as if banking down their protests.

"Just a question," he told them mildly, although he had posed it to see both of their

reactions. The woman was protective while the headmaster came off as concerned about

his school's reputation. "Would anyone else have set the fire?"

Nathan raised an eyebrow, looking up from the notes he was religiously scribbling down.

"You're thinking maybe it was a diversion?"

Dax nodded.

So had she, the moment she'd overheard the fire chief telling Matthew Harwood that the

origin of the fire had been found in her wastepaper basket. A diversion to take attention

away from the fact that Annie Tyler was being stolen.

The very thought ate away at her. She should have realized something was wrong. There

was no earthly reason why, but somehow, her instincts should have told her that something

was wrong.

She might as well tell him before he found out on his own. "It was my wastepaper basket."

Her student, her wastepaper basket. Dax looked at the woman with deepening interest. It

seemed too simple, but then, most criminals were not the masterminds that so frequently

populated the more intriguing mysteries and action movies. Wanting to race, he still took it

one step at a time.

Facing her, his back blocking out Harwood, he asked, "Were you in the room at the time?"

She could almost sense what he was thinking. Brenda took a breath and shook her head.

"No. The class and I were giving a tour to Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley—"

She saw the good-looking detective's eyes narrow just a little, as if he was filtering in

this new information. "Who?"

"Parents of a prospective new student," Harwood explained, moving so that Dax could see him. The man looked none-too-happy about being ignored. "It's done all the time."

That didn't sound quite right to him. In his experience, teachers were all too happy to

escape from their classroom for a few minutes, leaving a slightly more mature child in

charge of the class for the duration of their absence.

"Taking your whole class out?" Dax asked in disbelief, waiting to be corrected.

No such correction came. "It's to show how well-behaved our students are," Harwood told him. "We're quite proud of that."

The detective still didn't look as if he believed them. Brenda felt a spark of resentment

building. She knew he was just doing his job, but she couldn't help feeling that he was

wasting precious time with these trivial details.

"The students each take turns telling the parents about the different activities we have

here at Harwood." She enumerated some of the highlights. "There's a little theater group, an art room, things the regular schools cut back on."

His face never changed expression as he listened to her description. She liked the

shorter detective better, she thought. At least Detective Brown looked compassionate.

"And where was Annie during this show-and-tell process?" the suspicious detective asked.

In her mind's eye, she could see the little girl. Annie had begun at the head of the group

but with each step taken, she kept drifting toward the rear of the line. Strangers always

affected her that way; made her even shyer than she was.

"She was hanging back."

The poker face remained. "And you didn't coax her forward?"

Was that suspicion she heard in his voice? Did he actually think she'd do anything to harm

any of the children, especially Annie? Just what kind of a monster did he think she was?

Fueled by guilt, it took effort to bank down her anger. "I was just about to do that when

the alarm went off."

"And then what?"

She'd heard the alarm just as they'd left the art room. She remembered feeling a sense

of panic. The idea of a fire spreading through the school had always horrified her. Because

of that, she had been the one to suggest to Matthew that they double the amount of fire

drills performed. "And then I made sure that I got my class outside the building."

Dax deliberately moved into her space, crowding her. "You didn't stop to count heads?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No, not until we were all outside the building."

"And then you counted heads."

Brenda could feel her temper unraveling as guilt danced around it. She should have kept