Читать книгу In Broad Daylight - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 10

Martha stared at the pristine white telephone as if it were a giant snake, coiled and poised to spring at her. Her eyes were huge as she turned them on Dax.

“Oh, my God, it’s ringing.” Fear resonated in her voice. “What do I do?”

It was too late to set up the wire tap. They had to hope for a second call. Dax looked at the housekeeper. “Answer it,” he ordered

She began to visibly tremble.

“I can’t,” the housekeeper choked out the words. “Please don’t make me.” Frantic, Martha looked from one detective to the other. “What if I say the wrong thing? I just couldn’t live with myself if something happens to that child because of me—”

Dax did a poor job of hiding his exasperation. The seconds were ticking away fast and the phone continued to ring. “Look, lady—”

Not knowing what else to do, afraid that the moment and the call would slip through their fingers, Brenda snatched up the receiver.

“Tyler residence,” she enunciated in what she prayed was a fair imitation of Martha’s English accent.

Surprised, Dax stared at her. In desperation, because the kidnapper might be expecting a woman’s voice on the other end, he was about to tell Brenda to answer the telephone, but she’d anticipated him. The woman had a cool head, he thought.

Making eye contact, he indicated that she should keep the person on the other end of the line talking. If the kidnapper talked, there was a slim chance that a clue, a noise in the background, might be picked up, one that would help them locate where Annie Tyler was being held.

Brenda felt as if her stomach was going to revolt and come surging out of her mouth any time now. Her morning communes with the porcelain bowl were a thing of the past only by two weeks. And this felt much worse than morning sickness.

Concentrating on the kidnapper, she was still vaguely aware that six sets of eyes were trained on her.

The police technicians and two detectives were gathered in a semicircle around her, obviously straining to hear the other side of the conversation. She held on to the receiver with both hands, tilting the ear piece slightly so that at least some of the dialogue could be made out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Martha sinking onto the sofa.

The instant she heard the voice on the other end, Brenda knew she hadn’t a prayer of trying to recognize it. The kidnapper could have been a man or a woman for all she knew. They were using a voice synthesizer. The irritating vibrations sounded like words being blown through a harmonica.

“We have the little girl. We don’t want to harm her.”

You bastards. Brenda struggled to keep her feelings from spilling out. “And we do not want her harmed,” she told the caller, plucking words out of nowhere. Her mind felt as if it was completely blank. “What do you want us to do?”

The voice on the other end of the line paused, as if playing out the moment. Brenda could feel the tension rising with every second that passed. “Tell the Tylers we want two million dollars and then she’ll be returned. That shouldn’t be hard for them to manage.”

Dax suddenly grabbed Nathan’s jacket and pulled it open. His partner jumped, staring at him accusingly. “Hey.”

The protest faded as Dax took out his pad and the pen he kept there and began to quickly scribble something down. Done, he held the pad up for her to read as the metallic voice droned in her ear.

She squinted, trying to make out the words he’d written. The detective had alternated between printing and using script, both of which were almost illegible. Giving him an exasperated look, she filled in the gaps as best as she could.

“How do we know she’s still alive?” Brenda asked. She kept her eyes on Dax. “We want proof.” Dax nodded as she got his message right. “A photograph of Annie holding today’s newspaper in her hands.”

This time, there was no pause. There was anger. “We’re the ones with all the cards here, bitch. We make the terms, not you.”

She suppressed the urge to beg the kidnapper not to hurt Annie, to let her go. That would only empower him or her. Instead, she reiterated more forcefully, “We need proof.”

When there was no answer, she raised her eyes to Dax for instruction. To her horror, he took hold of her wrist and pushed her hand down until the receiver was back in its cradle.

He’d made her hang up the phone.

She stared at him, stunned and furious. “What the hell are you doing?”

“The kidnapper was going to hang up on you.”

She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “So I got him first, is that it?” she demanded heatedly.

There was an edge to his voice. Because the risk wasn’t foolproof. But rules needed to be established. “He’s right, he’s got all the cards. But if he feels that way, we stand less of a chance of getting the girl back, even if we do hand over the money.”

“If?” she echoed. “We’re not going to do what they say? This isn’t a statistic, Detective, this is a little girl we’re talking about. A living, breathing, please God, little girl. We have to do what they say.” Her eyes narrowed accusingly as she looked at him and then toward the telephone. “Provided, of course, that they call back.”

“They’ll call back,” he said with a conviction he didn’t quite feel. The others said nothing to contradict him, but he knew that Nathan didn’t approve of what he’d done.

Dax sweated out the next minute and a half as they dragged themselves up, a microsecond at a time.

The phone rang again.

Though she’d been waiting for it, praying for it, the sound made her jump. Relief flooding through her, her knees feeling almost too weak to support her, Brenda jerked the receiver up and placed it to her ear.

“Hello?”

She was aware of Dax peeling the earpiece back from her ear so that he could hear. Brenda resisted the urge to hold it in place.

“Don’t you ever, ever do that to me again, bitch!” There was barely suppressed fury in the kidnapper’s voice. “Or you get to hear the bullet go through her head. Understood?”

She couldn’t even swallow. There was no saliva left in her mouth. “Understood.”

Again there was a pause. She could feel the moments pulsating.

“You’ll have your picture,” the clipped, metallic voice finally told her. “I’ll call back tomorrow and tell you where you can find it.”

“Tomorrow?” Brenda thought of Annie having to endure the night as a prisoner somewhere. Annie, frightened, thinking no one would come for her. That nobody cared. “Why not today?”

“Because I said so.”

The line went dead.

“Hello? Hello?” Helpless, she looked up at Dax. “He hung up.”

Very gently, Dax took the receiver out of her hand and replaced it in its cradle. “You did great,” he told her. The woman looked as if she was going to sag to the floor right in front of him. He put his arm around her shoulders, offering her support. She seemed to stiffen against him. “You want to sit down?”

Brenda deliberately shrugged him off. “No. What I want is to find Annie.”

“Yeah, we all do.” Battling to keep frustration at bay, he scrubbed his hand over his face, then looked at her. He’d heard everything she had, but she’d been a microinch closer to the receiver. Maybe that was enough. “Did you hear anything in the background, anything at all?”

She shook her head. “It was like talking to ET’s evil twin. I couldn’t even tell you if it was a man or woman. But ‘he’ kept switching his pronouns, interchanging ‘I’ and ‘we’ several times. That means there’s at least two of them.”

He nodded. It just reinforced his suspicions that the bogus couple who’d asked for a tour of the school were the ones who had taken the little girl. It would have helped if Harwood Academy had surveillance cameras in place, but for a prestigious school, they were appallingly lax in electronic security. A condition he figured the headmaster was going to fix—if he was given a chance. He suspected the kidnapping was going to cost the man some withdrawals.

He looked at Brenda. Unlike the housekeeper, she’d kept her cool throughout the ordeal. He knew it couldn’t have been easy on her. “Quick thinking on your part, using that accent.”

“I thought they might know the Tylers had an English housekeeper.” She realized the admission underscored the fact that she subconsciously agreed with the detective. Someone had gone through a great deal of trouble to plot this all out. Her eyes lit as information worked its way forward through her brain. The kidnapper hadn’t demanded to speak to either parent. “The kidnapper seemed to know that neither of Annie’s parents were home.”

Dax nodded. “They did their homework. This wasn’t a random snatch, this was very well planned.”

The thought chilled her. Had she been observed as well? In the classroom, had someone been watching? For how long? The north side of her classroom was completely exposed with a large bay window that comprised half the wall. She pushed the thought away.

She saw Nathan retrieve his notepad and then place it back into his pocket. “You know,” she told Dax, “you’ve got pretty lousy handwriting. You should do something about that.”

It was nothing he hadn’t heard before. His sister Janelle had said his notes all looked as if they’d been done by a drunken spider whose legs had been dipped in ink. “You managed to read it, didn’t you?”

She laughed shortly. “Only because I’m versed in scribble.”

“Whatever it takes,” he responded. Dax turned his attention to the housekeeper. Seeing him look at her, the woman tried to rally but rising from the sofa seemed to be more than she could manage at the moment. He crouched before her. “Have you noticed any strangers around here lately?”

Martha didn’t have to pause to reflect. “Mrs. Tyler’s having the guest house remodeled.”