No One Saw

by Beverly Long

  “Nope. Just general astonishment that a child could be missing for more than a day and the police don’t appear to have anything.”

  “Fine. What do we know from the remaining teacher and the cook?” A.L. asked.

  “I spoke first to the teacher, Tanya Knight. She’s thirty-four and has been at the day care for three years. Loves her job. The kids, her coworkers, her boss. Loves them all.”

  “I’ll bet you’re glad you didn’t have to do that interview,” Rena said, looking at A.L.

  “I’m not philosophically opposed to happy people,” he said.

  “Yeah. But they make you nervous,” Ferguson said, smiling at Rena.

  “Did you ask her specifically about Kara Wiese?” A.L. asked.

  “Yeah. Kara is a team player, always willing to help. Good with the kids.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “She knows Emma Whitman because Emma was in her room last year. She’s sick about the situation because she just—”

  “Loves Emma Whitman,” A.L. said, finishing the sentence.

  “Yeah. Anyway, she was at work on Wednesday. She co-teaches with Olivia Blow but since she was ill, Alice Quest was in the room. Tanya said she starts at 7:30 but generally gets there by 7:00 because her husband drops her off on his way to work. On Wednesday, when she got there, that’s when she found out that Olivia was absent because Alice was already in the room.”

  Rena flipped through her notebook. “That meshes with Alice’s recollection. Alice said that she was in a classroom beginning at 6:30 that morning and only took a few short breaks out of the classroom the entire day.”

  “You search her house?”

  “Yeah. I asked, she gave permission. She’s a terrible housekeeper. Has cats. There was almost enough cat hair in the small bedroom to hide a five-year-old.”

  “I like her better now,” A.L. said. His own cat could shed about three pounds of hair a week.

  “Don’t be sexist,” Rena said, to both of the men. “Maybe her husband is the terrible housekeeper,” Rena said. “Perhaps her job is to mow the yard.”

  “Yeah, well, that needed doing also. I did see a big motorcycle in the garage so maybe they spend their time riding that instead of taking care of the house.”

  “What did you walk away thinking?” Rena asked.

  “That she’s a nice lady. But just to make sure I had a good read, I went to her kids’ school afterwards and chatted with the principal. Kids are well behaved. There’s never been any issues with either Tanya Knight or her husband. In fact, Tanya is a frequent volunteer and guess what, everybody loves working with her.”

  “What about Benita Garza?” Rena asked.

  Ferguson flipped pages in his notebook. “She’s late fifties. Used to—”

  A.L. held up a hand. “Wait. Back to Tanya Knight. You said she’s thirty-four. What does she look like?”

  Ferguson shrugged. “White. Nice shape. Blond hair.”

  “Long or short?”

  “Chin length. Straight.”

  “How tall is she?”

  Ferguson rubbed his chin. “Five-five, maybe five-six. If it’s important, I can call and ask her.”

  “No. That’s good enough. Back to Benita.”

  “Benita worked at the button factory full-time but retired about a year ago. Stayed home for about three months before she started working at the day care. Her grandchild is enrolled there. Her shift is from 10:00 to 2:00 every day. Said it’s the best job she’s ever had. She did work on Wednesday but did not arrive until about 9:45. Said that she didn’t know anything was wrong until Wednesday night when Alice Quest called and asked her if she’d seen Emma. She couldn’t believe that the child was missing.”

  A.L.’s father and uncle worked at that same factory. They likely knew Benita. “Her house?”

  “She lives with her daughter, son-in-law and their two children. Cute farmhouse at the edge of town. Much cleaner than the Knights’ abode.”

  “So you’ve cleared them both?” Rena asked.

  “Didn’t see anything that makes me think we should look at them any harder,” Ferguson agreed. “Anything else?”

  “Nope. Not right now,” A.L. said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Rena waited until Ferguson got back to his desk across the room. “I feel like we’re living Doug Franklin’s life. He cleared all the people at the Dover day care.”

  “I know. This sucks. But did you think Ferguson was going to open a bedroom door somewhere and there would be Emma Whitman, playing with some dolls?”

  “No. But I also can’t stand the idea that it’s been roughly a day and a half since Emma was dropped off and we don’t appear to be close to an answer.”

  “We don’t know how close we are. Right now it’s hard to see how much incremental gain we’ve had but I have to believe with every conversation we know a little more. When we turn over the right stone, we’re going to know it.”

  “Listen to you, Mr. Optimist. Maybe you should call Tanya Knight and ask her to go to lunch. You could have a bunch of glass-half-full conversations,” Rena grumbled. “You were asking all those questions about her physical appearance just to make sure that Elaine couldn’t have gotten her mixed up with Kara Wiese.”

  “Yeah. But Kara Wiese is barely five foot. With long brown hair versus short blonde. Come on, let’s go.”

  They walked downstairs and got into A.L.’s SUV. He started it and pulled out of the lot. Got about three blocks before turning to Rena. “I know I said that I wanted to check in with Leah but I think I want to talk to Elaine Broadstreet again first. The questions we have for her are bigger than the questions we have for Leah.”

  “You think she’s still at Leah’s house?” Rena asked.

  “If she is, we need to do it somewhere else. I don’t think we’ll get the truth otherwise.”

  “I’ll call her,” Rena said. Elaine answered her phone on the second ring.

  “Hello.”

  “This is Detective Morgan. I’m with Detective McKittridge and we’d like an opportunity to meet with you. Are you at home?”

  “Uh...no.”

  “Can you be there in fifteen minutes?” Rena asked.

  “I don’t...” the woman said, her tone irritated. There was a pause. “Of course,” she said, her tone very different.

  She either didn’t want to appear argumentative to the police or maybe she didn’t want her daughter to know who was calling. Hard to tell. Rena didn’t much care. “Thank you. We’ll see you then.” She ended the call.

  “What’s her address?”

  Rena gave it to him.

  With a quick tap on the brakes, A.L. turned. The car behind him let loose a sharp blast of their horn.

  Rena gave him a look.

  “I know a shortcut,” he said.

  He likely does, she thought. He’d grown up in Baywood. Had left for a few years, walked a beat in Madison, and later did some years in SWAT. But, as he told it, he’d been lured back to Baywood in hopes of saving his marriage. It hadn’t worked.

  And he’d eaten dinner alone for a long time. But now was dating Tess.

  That was the big news. The two of them had saved Tess from a serial killer just months earlier. “I never got a chance to ask,” she said. “How was California? You and Tess still okay?”

  He gave her an amused look. “Familiarity breeds contempt?” he said.

  “Contempt is a harsh word. And, anyway, it would be difficult to ever dislike Tess.”

  He laughed. “Good one,” he said. “Too much of me, that’s another story.”

  Now it was her turn to smile. “So I can assume it went well.”

  “Yeah. It did.”

  She waited, hoping he’d let another morsel drop. But she knew it was unlikely. “I’ll just h
ave to use my imagination,” she said, letting him know where her head was going.

  “Make it good,” he said. He pulled up in front of Elaine Broadstreet’s house. “I think we beat her here,” he said.

  “Doug Franklin talked to Corrine Antler’s grandparents,” she said.

  “Saw that in the file.”

  “So what we’re doing makes all the sense in the world, especially given her criminal background and the fact that there’s some time unaccounted for. But it just feels horrible. A grandparent, for God’s sake.”

  “My dad is crazy about Traci,” A.L. said. “Always has been. Acts like an idiot when she’s around, always teasing her, trying to make her laugh. I keep telling him that she’s seventeen now, not a little kid anymore. But he can’t seem to help himself.”

  “And Traci is such a good kid that she plays along.”

  “Most of the time. It is weird, though. He never did that with me or my sister, Liz. After Traci was born, it caught me off guard. Like I was the one with the baby but he was the one who changed.”

  Rena looked out her side window. “I wish my mom was going to be here. For my baby.”

  “Cancer is a fucking thief,” he said.

  Her mom had been dead for three years and it still hurt. “Gabe’s mom will be over the moon.” It wasn’t the same but it would be nice. “His whole family will be.”

  Elaine Broadstreet’s car turned into the driveway of her small ranch.

  “My grandmother helped raise me,” Rena said. “I trusted her as much as I did my mother.”

  “We don’t know that Elaine has betrayed that same trust,” he said.

  “Maybe she had a mental lapse, you know, the same kind of thing that happens to a young parent who gets preoccupied on their way to work and leaves their baby in the back seat of a hot car for eight hours. Nobody can ever understand how that happens but it happens every year, to multiple kids. To good, caring parents.”

  “So you’re back to she got Emma inside and then spaced out and left her there unattended? That still doesn’t explain why her signature isn’t on the sign-in sheet.”

  “I know. But I want to make it safe for her to tell us the truth,” Rena said.

  They gave her a couple minutes to get settled and then knocked on the door. Once inside, they saw that Elaine Broadstreet’s home was nicely furnished with leather couches and solid wood end tables. The floors were hardwood and the rugs on them looked expensive.

  Milo’s Motors either paid better than he might have expected or she was luckier at the gaming tables than most. They’d get to that.

  “You wanted to talk to me,” Elaine said. She’d settled on one leather couch. He and Rena had taken ends on the other.

  “How was today?” Rena asked, her tone caring. It reminded him of something she’d said once—that he had very little time or tolerance for small talk. Or something like that. It was true. And it was a fault. Because right now, Rena was spot-on. Elaine Broadstreet’s culpability was yet to be determined. But what they did know was that her grandchild was missing. And for that reason alone, she deserved great consideration.

  “Difficult,” Elaine said. “We all jump every time Leah’s cell phone rings.” She paused. “People have been wonderful. So caring. One of Troy’s friends started a fund-raising page and donations poured in today. Just poured in.”

  A fund-raising site. A.L. supposed it was to be expected. It was easy enough to do and it left people, those who started it and those who contributed, feeling good. It was a relatively easy way for a person to let the Whitmans know that they cared. “What do Troy and Leah think about that?” A.L. asked.

  “I think Leah was a little embarrassed. I guess it seems a little bit like charity. But Steven told them that it only made sense, that they might have a need for it. Like to offer a reward,” Elaine explained.

  Or to pay for private searchers once the initial frenzy dies down, A.L. added silently. He hoped like hell it didn’t come to that. “Who is Steven?”

  “Steven Hanzel. He’s Troy’s best friend and he’s the one who started the fund-raising site. He works at the bank. I think he’s a loan officer.”

  A.L. wrote the name down in his notebook. It was time to get down to business. “We have a few more questions about the day you dropped Emma off.”

  Elaine nodded. “I suppose that teacher is still saying that she never saw me.”

  “Let’s just say that the two of you have different recollections of the morning,” A.L. said. “Have you had any second thoughts about what you told us?”

  “No.”

  Rena leaned forward. “Is it possible that you walked Emma into the day care but didn’t hand her off to anybody? I mean, Emma sounds like she was pretty mature. Maybe she knew where her room was? Maybe she said I’ve got this and you kissed her goodbye and left without actually seeing her go into a room?”

  Elaine said nothing.

  “I totally get how that could happen,” Rena said.

  “Do you have children, Detective?”

  “No,” Rena said, her tone level.

  “Then I’m not sure you’re qualified to get anything. But in any event, that’s not what happened.”

  Elaine was no shrinking violet. She was pissed and she wanted Rena to know it. A.L. didn’t worry that Rena would lose her cool. She was too seasoned for that and had been baited by those much more skilled. “So, Elaine, we’re to understand that your previous statement stands without correction,” A.L. said, his tone friendly. “You handed her off to Kara Wiese and you signed the sheet on the clipboard by the office before you left.”

  “All of that is still correct. I know that I didn’t mention signing the sheet initially but I’ve been over it a thousand times in my head. I did that. I’m sure of it.”

  “Okay,” A.L. said. “Do you happen to know Tanya Knight?”

  “Of course. Emma was previously in her room.” She paused. “I know the difference between Kara Wiese and Tanya Knight if that’s what you’re getting at.” She was back to being pissed.

  She reached for a candle that was on an end table. Turned it. Just so. Took a nice long look out her front window.

  They waited.

  “I do actually have a correction to my statement,” Elaine said finally, looking at Rena. “But I’m guessing you maybe already know that.”

  Eight

  “We’re listening,” A.L. said.

  Elaine sighed. Settled back on the couch, as if this was going to be lengthy explanation and she wanted something solid behind her. “After I left Emma at the day care, I drove to the Wildwind’s Casino.”

  A.L. knew the place. It was twenty-five miles west of Baywood. His dad and his uncle Joe went there at least once a month. Said it was for the buffet, but A.L. didn’t think so.

  “I got there shortly after 8:00. I left by 9:30 so that I could get to work by 10:00,” Elaine added.

  “That’s a pretty exact recollection,” Rena said.

  “It’s what I do three or four days a week. Not that hard to remember.”

  A.L. considered the information. It added up. Milo had said that she was a gambler. Said that she generally arrived at work about ten. “Why did you lie the first time?” he asked.

  Elaine looked at Rena. “You asked the question in front of my daughter. She...hates that I gamble. We’ve had words about it. So I hide it from her. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

  A.L. looked around. “This is a real nice house in a real nice neighborhood. You must do pretty well at the casino.”

  “The casino always ultimately wins,” she said. “Everybody knows that. But there have been times that I’ve done okay. I just enjoy it. Maybe that’s what makes Leah angry. But, quite frankly, it’s not really Leah’s or anybody else’s business how I choose to spend my time or my money. I choose what makes me happy a
nd I don’t need anybody’s approval.”

  Elaine was now even more pissed off. They must have been some words.

  Rena leaned forward, put her notebook and pen on the table. “You were arrested for child endangerment and illegal narcotics,” she said.

  Elaine didn’t flinch. “Yes. I had a bad habit and I paid a price for my stupidity. Marijuana. Cocaine. Pills. I was a regular user. I was collateral damage, got caught up in a sweep that was focused on somebody else. But there were witnesses who testified that I’d done the drugs in my home, in front of my child. It was true. I never let her touch them but...that hardly matters, right?”

  “No,” Rena said, her voice hard.

  “I did my time,” Elaine said. “And it was the best thing that could have happened to me. I kicked the habit.”

  “Leah knows?” A.L. asked.

  “Of course. During my jail time, she was in the foster care system. Had to change schools. It was hard on her. Hard on both of us. But we made it through. Got past it. It was just Leah and me for a lot of years. She was in high school when I married Bert Broadstreet. He was a good man. Unfortunately, he died eight years later. Heart attack. This,” she said, waving her hand around her house, “is because of Bert. He had always been a good saver and quite frankly, I’m benefiting from that today.”

  “Would you say that there’s lots of friction between you and your daughter?” A.L. asked.

  Elaine shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s friction. It’s just lately she seems determined to find fault with me, to find fault with the things I do. To have others find fault with me.” She stopped. “Never mind. Now is certainly not the time to be dwelling on that.”

  “Is your daughter’s marriage in good shape?” A.L. asked.

  “Why would you ask me that?” Elaine responded, her tone sharp.

  “Because I thought I detected a hint of...something,” A.L. said. “Something that told me that everything wasn’t exactly right.”

  Elaine scratched her ear with her right index finger. “I’ve noticed that lately, too,” she said. “I haven’t asked. And Leah hasn’t volunteered any information.”

  “You don’t have any reason to believe that either one of them is in any way responsible for Emma’s disappearance?” A.L. asked.