of them will be home for several hours.”
She’d jumped ahead of him again. There was no end to the surprises this diminutive blonde delivered, Dax thought. “So if there’s a ransom call—”
She’d thought of that as well. “There’s a housekeeper at the house, a Martha Danridge. 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 the Tyler’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 the Tylers.”
“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 from Ireland and 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