In Broad Daylight (3 page)

Annie with her. But she could remember how painful it was at times not to be able to just

shrink away, to hang back. Annie had been making progress, opening up a little, but there'd

been a relapse in the last few days and she'd been trying to get at the source of it without

much success.

So she'd tried not to push too hard and then this had happened.

Brenda raised her chin up as if she were silently showing him she was up to any challenge

he was throwing her way.

His sister did that move, Dax thought. Just before she lit into him.

"Yes," the teacher responded between clenched teeth, "then I counted heads."

Nathan looked up from the notes he was taking. "When you saw she was missing, what did

you do?"

There had been no hesitation on her part. "I ran back into the building."

As if he felt he had to vouch for her actions, Harwood interjected, "One of the

firefighters attempted to stop her, but she went right around him."

Nathan smiled at her before resuming his notes. "Brave lady."

Stubborn would have been the way he'd have put it, Dax thought. He was well-acquainted

with stubborn. His family, especially the female portion of it, had a patent on the emotion.

Brenda shrugged off the praise. Bravery had nothing to do with it.

"I had no idea where the fire was or how bad it was. I was just worried that Annie might

have run back to the classroom." She saw the silent question in the taller detective's eyes

and explained. "She has this stuffed animal she keeps in her desk, a rabbit." It had taken more than a week of coaxing before Annie had told her about the rabbit. It had been a

gift from her father and she clung to it whenever she missed him and wanted him close. "I

thought she might have gone back for it."

Dax never took his eyes from her face. "But she didn't?"

Brenda shook her head. "She wasn't there."

"Was the rabbit?"

The question caught her short. "I didn't think to check." There had been a fireman in the room. He'd just finished putting out the fire and there was water everywhere. Water,

smoke, but no Annie. "Why, was that important?"

At this point, until things were ruled out, everything was important. "It might be. If it's

missing, then she either took it herself, or someone who knew about her attachment to it

took the rabbit to try to use it to lure her away." He paused for a moment as the words

sank in, trying not to allow the distress he saw in the woman's eyes to get to him. He

couldn't afford to have his sympathies, or anything else, get in the way so that it impaired

his judgment. "Where are these Kingsleys now?" he asked.

Harwood stepped in to field the question. "They left soon after the alarm went off, right

after we evacuated the building. Said they'd be back when things were calmer." His tone

told Dax that the man didn't hold out much hope that they would return.

He looked from Brenda to Harwood. "And they left together."

"Yes," Harwood answered.

Dax shifted his eyes toward the woman. "Were they together all the time?"

Brenda thought for a moment, but her mind still felt as if it was wrapped up in cotton

batting. Some events were sharp, others that took place almost at the same time were

hazy.

"I think so." She bit her lip, hating this, hating the fact that she felt so shaky. She looked at him helplessly. "I'm not sure."

Dax's expression remained stony. "Think about it," he advised.

All right, she wasn't imagining it. Hedidsuspect her. But why? Because the fire had

started in her room? Because Annie was her student? Or because he was one of those gung

ho policemen who wanted to clear his caseload and it didn't matter to him if he had the

right person or not?

Either way, she wasn't about to let this continue. If he suspected her, he wouldn't take

anything she said at face value and that could only impede finding Annie.

Shutting down the host of emotions bouncing wildly around inside of her, Brenda raised

her head and looked him squarely in the eye. "Are you inferring that I had something to do

with this?"

Dax took the opportunity to play along with the lead she gave him. "Did you?"

Thinking he suspected her was one thing, having him almost come out and say it was

another. The reality of it cut through her like a saber, drawing blood and indignation.

"No! I would never—"

He raised his hand, silencing her with a single motion. He had no time for theatrics. For

the time being, he'd buy into her innocence.

"Then let's continue." Dax turned toward Harwood. The man's complexion was almost

ashen. The headline Teacher Involved in Student's Kidnapping had probably flashed

through the headmaster's mind, Dax mused. "And you're sure she's not around anywhere.

Did someone check the other classrooms?"

Had his suspicions clogged his ears? "I already checked the other classrooms—" Brenda

began. That was why the police had been called in to begin with.

"But not everywhere," Nathan gently pointed out.

Dax thought of his own unruly elementary school experience. There were coat rooms and

closets and a basement that probably ran the length of the school. A kid could hide

anywhere. He had on more than one occasion. The sixth-grade coat room was where he'd

stolen his first kiss from Amanda Jackson.

Brenda blew out a breath. "No, not everywhere," she agreed.

"The students are all returning to their rooms," Harwood pointed out. Had the door to his office been opened, the sound of shuffling feet would have been evident. "The teachers

would notice someone who didn't belong in their room. We keep the class sizes quite small."

"Besides," Brenda felt compelled to insist again, defending the little girl who couldn't defend herself, "Annie wouldn't do that. Annie was just beginning to come out of her shell,

she wouldn't deliberately run off or hide."

"Shell?" Dax left the word hanging in the air, waiting for her to elaborate.

Oh Annie, I hope you're not too scared.Brenda struggled not to let her empathy get the

better of her. Annie had to be so frightened right now.

"Annie was—is," she amended because the condition still held the little girl fast, "painfully shy, insecure. She's an only child. Her father's the film director Simon Tyler and her

mother is an actress, or was. Rebecca Allen-Tyler. Supposedly, she's retired now, but

she's still always off somewhere, away from Annie. They both usually are." She knew that

Simon was inEurope, directing a movie and Annie's mother was somewhere inNew York, on a

shopping spree and visiting friends. Annie had shared that with her just this morning.

He wasn't familiar with the woman's name, but he did recognize the girl's father. Dax

didn't know much about movies, leaving that to the film enthusiasts in the family. However,

even he knew who Simon Tyler was. Anyone who ever walked into a blockbuster movie in

the last ten years was familiar with Simon Tyler. His name appeared above only the highest

moneymakers.

"So who takes care of her?" he asked Brenda, since she seemed to be the expert here.

An image of Annie, her eyes huge and sad, flashed through her mind. "The housekeeper

for the most part," Brenda told him.

Dax studied her again, trying to view her as an integral part of the scenario instead of

quite possibly the most stunning woman he'd ever seen. "You seem to know a lot about her.

You take that much of an interest in all your students?"

There it was again, that suspicion. She knew he was doing his job, but she didn't have to

like it. "Yes, I do. But Annie is special."

"Special how?" Dax prodded.

"She's very intelligent," Harwood said. It was evident that he disliked being ignored.

Nathan flipped to yet another clean page. "Doogie Howser intelligent?"

Dax looked at his partner as if the latter had just lapsed into a foreign language. "Who?"

Nathan gave him a patronizing grin. TV trivia was the onearea thathe had covered while

Dax wandered through it like a newborn babe. "I'll explain it in the car," Nathan promised.

"Gifted," Brenda explained for his benefit. "And yes, I think she was."

She didn't add that she related to the little girl on almost all levels. Annie felt isolated

from her parents and so had she. But in her own case, it was a physically and verbally

abusive father who had caused the chasm that existed between she and her parents.

Until she left both of them, her mother had been no help, no buffer against her father's

volatile temper. Two days before her ninth birthday, she'd come home to find a note from

her mother in the kitchen, addressed to her. The note said that she couldn't take it any

longer and that she was leaving in search of what she knew had to be a better life.

The memory shivered up and down her spine now, all these years later. Her father had

beaten her when she'd told him the contents of the note.

At eighteen, she'd taken her mother's cue and left home for good, marrying Wade York

not because she was in love with him, but because she loved him for being everything her

father was not. Eventually, she'd come to learn that loving someone for lack of certain

qualities wasn't enough. After seven years of trying, she and Wade had drifted apart.

In addition to the feeling of isolation, she'd related to the shy, withdrawn girl with the

golden hair on another plane. Annie had been tested at near genius level, the same level

that she herself had attained. In her case, there had been no one to push her; no one to

help her make use of her potential; no teacher who had seen the spark. She'd been left on

her own to discover it, finally enrolling in college while her husband, a marine, was shipped

from one end of the globe to the other.

Brenda was determined that Annie was not going to fall by the wayside as she had.

But now Annie was missing. And it was her fault. She'd failed the girl.

Dax stepped back to open the door leading out of Harwood's office. "Why don't we go

back to your classroom?"

"All right." She squared her shoulders and pushing past him, she took the lead.

Once out in the hallway, Harwood was quick to catch up to her. "No one blames you for

this, Brenda," he said in a hushed tone.

Her anger, directed against both the brash detective and herself, softened slightly as

she turned toward the man who had been nothing but kind to her. The man who, she knew

if she'd give him a chance, would have been ready and eager to be more to her than just

the man who signed her paychecks.

But despite the fact that he was a highly educated headmaster and Wade had been a

marine who'd entered the service before he'd graduated high school, Matthew Harwood

was too much like Wade for her. The fact that he was also her employer gave her an

excuse to be tender to him, softening the blow. Harwood was sensitive and kind, but she

wanted to make it on her own now.

If she wasn't strong enough for one, how could she ever hope to be strong enough for

two?

She paused before her classroom before turning the doorknob. Dax could see the tension

skimming up and down her back. Apprehension? Guilt? It was still too soon to tell.

The classroom was empty.

The children who normally occupied it had temporarily been moved to the school library

until the smell of smoke could be eradicated from the room.

As if of like mind, Dax and Nathan went straight to the wastepaper basket beside the

desk.

Knowing they probably preferred to have her hang back, Brenda still joined them. Even

looking at the basket, burnt and misshapen, the fact that the fire had started here still

amazed her. She was so careful. How could this have happened? The metal container was

completely blackened, as was the side of the desk closest to the basket.

"Looks like this is the only place the fire damaged," Harwood noted.

Nathan looked around and nodded. "Lucky."

"Controlled," Dax countered. He raised his eyes to Brenda. "Whoever set this did it after the alarm went off."

Why was he looking at her like that? Did he expect her to suddenly fall to her knees and

confess? "How can you tell?" Brenda asked.

He'd already made the calculations. "Because it took the firefighters less than ten

minutes to get here. Ten minutes would have been enough time for the fire to have spread

throughout the whole room if it had started first. The alarm was tripped and the

firefighters were already on their way when the fire was set. Someone wanted to be sure

that no one was hurt during all this." Dax paused as he looked at her. "Do you have any matches in the classroom?"

So much for thinking she was being paranoid. "As a matter of fact, I do."

There was no smoking allowed on the premises. Besides, he doubted if she was a smoker.

There were no nicotine stains between her middle and index fingers and her teeth were

blazing white. Which begged the question, "Why?"

"We have a science project going." She gestured toward the cone-shaped papier-mâché

structure sitting in the middle of a table in the far corner. It looked like a child's version

of a tropical island. "The children and I are making a volcano."

Plausible, he thought, nodding. "Can I see the matches?"

Nerves were skittering through her as she opened the top drawer to her desk. She didn't

know whether to be furious or to search for the name of a good lawyer. Reaching for the