around and gave it to Nathan. "Detective Brown takes the tape into the lab for
analysis and I go to retrieve the photograph." He was already crossing to the room's
threshold.
Brenda stepped in front of him. "Let me come with you." Before he could refuse, she said quickly, "If the kidnapper's watching the restaurant, he might expect the housekeeper to
be the one to come for the photograph. She and I resemble each other a little." It was a
long shot and she knew it, but there was this overwhelming need inside her to make herself
useful.
Dax hesitated. He could always use a policewoman, but that would require having the
woman get a change of clothes and time was at a premium. The faster they moved, the
more likely they were to recover the little girl alive. Of late, they'd been lucky with their
recovery record when it came to kidnapped children and he wanted to keep it that way. He
could almost feel the seconds ticking away.
"All right," he agreed. From across the room, he could see the quizzical look Nathan was giving him. "She has a point."
Nathan spread his hands, as if he wasn't about to say anything to contradict him.
Leaving his wife's side, Simon was on his heels. "What am I supposed to do?"
Dax turned at the front door. "Sit tight and wait for the call. He might decide to call
while we're out getting the photograph. I think this guy enjoys pulling strings and watching
people jump." It seemed as apt a description of the function of a director as any. A
thought occurred to him. "He seemed especially pleased at turning the screws to you.
Anyone in particular have it in for you?"
Behind them, in the living room, Rebecca rose from the sofa. Taking a step toward them,
she dried her eyes. "How much time do you have?"
He hated making promises he couldn't keep, but he knew that parents of kidnapped
children needed something to hold on to. "Successful recoveries varying—"
Rebecca shook her head, her auburn hair shifting from side to side like a luxurious shawl.
"No, I meant for Simon to give you a list of people who have it in for him. My husband's
very powerful in this town, that means he has a lot of enemies."
Terrific, Dax thought. Nonetheless, he made a mental note to show the director the
sketches Brenda had made of the two people. Maybe they'd get lucky and the man'd
recognize one of them.
"He'd have less enemies if he wasn't such a jerk," Dax said to Brenda several minutes
later as they left in his car. Nathan was already on his way back to the precinct with the
audio tape. With a great deal of luck, the lab could clean it up sufficiently to yield some
kind of background noise that they could use to pinpoint the kidnapper's location.
Excitement was vying with her baby for space in her stomach. God, she hoped she
wouldn't get sick. "Less what?"
Dax rolled the windows up to cut down on the noise in the form of questions being hurled
at them as they drove by the reporters and their camera crews. "Enemies."
"I think a man like that counts the number of enemies he has as a testimonial to his
power. The more he has, the bigger he is." She shook her head as they cleared the estate.
"I never understood that kind of thing, being proud of who hated your guts."
Dax laughed. "Some people thrive on that. Me, I'm with you."
I'm with you.She knew it was silly, but she liked the sound of that, even though in reality,
it meant nothing. He wasn't "with" her in any true sense of the word; it was just a figure of speech. But for a fleeting moment, she pretended that they were a unit. And she
supposed in a way, for the duration of this case, they were. For as long as he allowed it.
"I think the kidnapper I talked to was definitely a man," she confirmed.
He turned toward her as they came to a red light. "What makes you so sure?"
"He said something about liking direct women. It's the kind of flippant line a guy might
say."
The light turned green. Dax shifted his foot back onto
analysis and I go to retrieve the photograph." He was already crossing to the room's
threshold.
Brenda stepped in front of him. "Let me come with you." Before he could refuse, she said quickly, "If the kidnapper's watching the restaurant, he might expect the housekeeper to
be the one to come for the photograph. She and I resemble each other a little." It was a
long shot and she knew it, but there was this overwhelming need inside her to make herself
useful.
Dax hesitated. He could always use a policewoman, but that would require having the
woman get a change of clothes and time was at a premium. The faster they moved, the
more likely they were to recover the little girl alive. Of late, they'd been lucky with their
recovery record when it came to kidnapped children and he wanted to keep it that way. He
could almost feel the seconds ticking away.
"All right," he agreed. From across the room, he could see the quizzical look Nathan was giving him. "She has a point."
Nathan spread his hands, as if he wasn't about to say anything to contradict him.
Leaving his wife's side, Simon was on his heels. "What am I supposed to do?"
Dax turned at the front door. "Sit tight and wait for the call. He might decide to call
while we're out getting the photograph. I think this guy enjoys pulling strings and watching
people jump." It seemed as apt a description of the function of a director as any. A
thought occurred to him. "He seemed especially pleased at turning the screws to you.
Anyone in particular have it in for you?"
Behind them, in the living room, Rebecca rose from the sofa. Taking a step toward them,
she dried her eyes. "How much time do you have?"
He hated making promises he couldn't keep, but he knew that parents of kidnapped
children needed something to hold on to. "Successful recoveries varying—"
Rebecca shook her head, her auburn hair shifting from side to side like a luxurious shawl.
"No, I meant for Simon to give you a list of people who have it in for him. My husband's
very powerful in this town, that means he has a lot of enemies."
Terrific, Dax thought. Nonetheless, he made a mental note to show the director the
sketches Brenda had made of the two people. Maybe they'd get lucky and the man'd
recognize one of them.
"He'd have less enemies if he wasn't such a jerk," Dax said to Brenda several minutes
later as they left in his car. Nathan was already on his way back to the precinct with the
audio tape. With a great deal of luck, the lab could clean it up sufficiently to yield some
kind of background noise that they could use to pinpoint the kidnapper's location.
Excitement was vying with her baby for space in her stomach. God, she hoped she
wouldn't get sick. "Less what?"
Dax rolled the windows up to cut down on the noise in the form of questions being hurled
at them as they drove by the reporters and their camera crews. "Enemies."
"I think a man like that counts the number of enemies he has as a testimonial to his
power. The more he has, the bigger he is." She shook her head as they cleared the estate.
"I never understood that kind of thing, being proud of who hated your guts."
Dax laughed. "Some people thrive on that. Me, I'm with you."
I'm with you.She knew it was silly, but she liked the sound of that, even though in reality,
it meant nothing. He wasn't "with" her in any true sense of the word; it was just a figure of speech. But for a fleeting moment, she pretended that they were a unit. And she
supposed in a way, for the duration of this case, they were. For as long as he allowed it.
"I think the kidnapper I talked to was definitely a man," she confirmed.
He turned toward her as they came to a red light. "What makes you so sure?"
"He said something about liking direct women. It's the kind of flippant line a guy might
say."
The light turned green. Dax shifted his foot back onto
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