then you counted heads.”
Brenda could feel her temper unraveling as guilt danced around it. She should have kept 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. He did suspect 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 in Europe, directing a movie and Annie’s mother was somewhere in New York, on a shopping spree and visiting friends. Annie had shared that with her
