No One Saw

by Beverly Long

  “And between 6:42 and 7:30, six more children arrived.”

  Kara nodded.

  “Do you specifically recall being in the room when each of these children arrived?” A.L. asked.

  “Yes,” Kara said. “Has someone said that I wasn’t?”

  “No,” A.L. said. “We’re just trying to get a full understanding. Do you recall if Claire Potter was in the room when any of those six children arrived?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe for the last one. I don’t know.”

  Now she was sounding frustrated. “Okay, no problem,” he said. “Kara, this morning, did you at any time, before or after Claire’s arrival, walk to the front of the building and talk briefly to Emma’s grandmother, Elaine Broadstreet? Did she hand off Emma to you?”

  Something flickered in her dark eyes. More frustration? Anger? “I figured that’s what she was saying, based on Alice’s questions. But that never happened. I never saw her or Emma.”

  Whatever emotions were reeling through her, her voice was steady. Confident.

  “What kind of relationship do you have with Elaine Broadstreet?”

  “I don’t really know her. I have responsibility for a bunch of kids. I don’t have time to chat with a lot of people.”

  “What were you doing tonight when Alice Quest contacted you?”

  “Getting ready to go to the gym. That’s where I go most days of the week after work.”

  “Anybody else at your house right now?”

  Kara shook her head. “My husband works twelve-hour days, 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. at the hospital. He’s a nurse in the Emergency Department.”

  “He should be getting home soon, then?”

  She shook her head. “He’s lucky to get out by 8:00 once he finishes charting. Then there’s a group of them that go out after work and toss back a few beers. It’s a pretty stressful job. He doesn’t generally get home until 10:00 or 11:00.”

  A.L. had seen the inside of more than a few emergency rooms when he’d been a young cop. Lots of interesting characters ended up there. “What’s your husband’s name?”

  “Sam. Sam Wiese.”

  “Do you have any children?” A.L. asked.

  “No. We’ve only been married for two years,” Kara added, maybe a little defensively.

  A.L. personally thought people ought to wait a good long time before popping out babies. He and his ex had barely known each other’s favorite breakfast cereal when Traci was born. “Okay. Thank you for coming back today. We’re committed to pursuing every possible lead. In that regard, we’re going to want to search both your car and your house.”

  “Really?” she asked. Now he clearly heard the irritation. But she quickly recovered and added, in a more neutral tone, “I’ll do what needs to be done. I want you to find Emma.”

  “We will,” A.L. said. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the incoming text. It was Tess. Saw the Amber Alert. Are you working on this?

  Yes, he texted back.

  No one better.

  He appreciated the confidence. Didn’t generally burn up too many brain cells worrying about whether he was the best. But right now he hoped like hell that he was good enough. Emma Whitman needed somebody in her corner.

  * * *

  Rena and Leah Whitman stood in the hallway, waiting for Elaine Broadstreet to enter. She came in the door so fast that it didn’t close behind her. The wind caught it and Rena saw the officer positioned outside the door reach over to shut it. Her stomach flipped. Somewhere out there in the wind was a five-year-old.

  Mrs. Broadstreet was somewhere between sixty and sixty-five. Her hair was a pretty silver and cut short. She wore minimal makeup and no jewelry. Her blue pantsuit might have come from any department store but it fit her still-trim figure well enough.

  Elaine Broadstreet’s eyes immediately went to her daughter. “Have you found her?”

  Leah shook her head.

  “Oh, God.” Elaine extended her arms, as if she meant to hug her daughter. But when Leah didn’t step forward into the embrace, Elaine awkwardly pulled her arms back and pressed her fingers to her lips.

  “This is Detective Morgan,” Leah said.

  Elaine lowered her hands, turned toward Rena. “What are you doing to find my granddaughter?”

  “We’re going to do everything we can,” Rena said. “And you can help us by making sure that we’ve got the very best understanding of what’s happened thus far today. Can we step in here for a few questions?” she asked, motioning toward the empty kitchen area.

  Mrs. Broadstreet didn’t answer but she and Leah followed Rena into the small room. There were no chairs so they stood.

  “Can you walk us through your early morning, Mrs. Broadstreet?”

  “What?” Her tone was now exasperated. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Sometimes even small details are very helpful,” Rena said.

  “Well, I got up about 6:00. I showered, got dressed, and drove to my daughter’s house to pick up Emma. There, I never even got out of the car, Troy had her out of the house so fast.”

  “What time was that?” Rena asked.

  “I remember looking at the clock on the dashboard as I pulled away from Leah’s house. It was 7:08.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I drove here.”

  “What route did you take?”

  “Paradise to Main to Second Street to Oak Avenue.”

  They would be able to verify that with street cameras. Rena ripped a sheet of paper out of her notebook and pulled a second pen from her bag. “Can you write down the make and model of your vehicle as well as your license plate number?”

  Elaine sighed but she did it.

  “What time did you arrive at the day care?” Rena asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t look at the clock. But I’ve done that drive a hundred times. It takes ten minutes, give or take a minute or two either way.”

  If that was right, she would have arrived as early as 7:16 or as late as 7:20. “Then what happened?” Rena asked.

  “We got here and Emma got out of her car seat. She can unbuckle herself. We walked in. I saw her teacher near the front door and handed Emma off to her.”

  “What teacher would that be?”

  “Kara Wiese.”

  “Did you talk to her?”

  “I think I said good morning.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “Good morning. And then she said hello to Emma. Then I left.”

  “Did you see her make any other contact with Emma?”

  “Contact?” Elaine asked.

  “Reach for her hand. Other conversation? Point her towards the classroom? Anything?”

  Elaine closed her eyes. She was silent. Finally, she opened them. “No. I didn’t see anything like that. Because I wasn’t looking. I had turned and I was walking out the door. Because I knew that Emma’s teacher was there.”

  “You and Kara Wiese had no other conversation than ‘Good morning’?” Rena asked.

  “No.”

  “Okay. You regularly drop Emma off at day care, right?”

  “Several days a week.”

  “And is this your normal drop-off process?”

  Elaine Broadstreet shook her head. “No. I walk her to her classroom.”

  “But not today. Why not? Were you running late?”

  “No. Like I said, I didn’t spend any time at my daughter’s house. We were early. I didn’t walk her to her classroom because her teacher was at the front door. There was no need. What the heck happened here? How did they lose a child?”

  “We’ll find her, Mom,” Leah said. “We...have to. That’s the only thing that can happen.”

  Rena knew that wasn’t true. There were any number of bad alternatives to a child missing f
or over ten hours.

  “Mrs. Broadstreet, was there anyone else in the lobby when you handed Emma off to Kara?” Rena asked.

  “I... I don’t know. I don’t think so. I really wasn’t here very long.”

  “But you don’t recall talking to anyone else? Greeting anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Did you sign Emma in this morning, on the clipboard next to the office?”

  “Yes.”

  She pulled out the evidence bag. Showed Elaine the sign-in sheet. “This is the sign-in sheet from that clipboard. There are two signatures on here. Are either one of these yours?”

  “No,” Elaine said. “But I signed the sheet. I’m sure I did.”

  She had not mentioned that until Rena had specifically asked her about it. But that didn’t mean she was lying. “Were there any other signatures on the sheet when you did that?” Rena asked.

  Again, Elaine closed her eyes as if she was trying to visualize the moment. “I don’t know. I really don’t remember.”

  “When you signed the sheet, did you note the time?” Rena asked, pointing to the spot where it would have been entered.

  “I...imagine I did.”

  “But you don’t recall specifically?”

  “No. Like I said, I don’t recall specifically noting the time. But I look at my watch a hundred times a day. It’s not a special action that I take. So I wouldn’t necessarily remember it. But if there was a spot there for the time, I’m sure I filled it in.” She looked at her daughter, as if seeking confirmation.

  Leah didn’t offer it up. Her face was devoid of emotion.

  But then again, her kid was missing. She probably felt as if she’d been run over by a train. “Earlier, Elaine, you said that after you saw Kara Wiese, you turned and left. You didn’t say anything about signing the sheet?”

  “Look, I’m a little rattled here. I wasn’t thinking about everything that I did. But I signed the sheet. I turned, signed the sheet and left.”

  “Okay,” Rena said. “Where did you go after you left here?”

  “I went...” Elaine Broadstreet’s voice trailed off. “I went to work, of course. At Milo’s Motors.”

  “What time did you arrive there?” Rena asked.

  “Probably about 7:45,” Mrs. Broadstreet said. Her tone had cooled. “Although I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Again, just trying to get a full understanding of the time lines,” Rena said.

  Leah was now staring off into the corner. Elaine’s eyes were flicking toward the door, as if she might make a run for it.

  “Where were you when your son-in-law contacted you this afternoon?” Rena asked.

  “Still at work. At first, I didn’t understand what he was asking. I mean, I understood the words but it didn’t make sense. Why would he think that I had Emma?”

  “What happened after the two of you talked?” Rena asked.

  “I told him that I would meet him at the day care. I found my boss, told him I was leaving early, and I raced over here. I was sick, just sick, at the thought that Emma was missing. I was shaking so badly I could hardly drive.”

  “Of course,” Rena said. “What’s your home address, Mrs. Broadstreet?”

  “141 Duncan Avenue.”

  “Would Emma know that?”

  Elaine Broadstreet looked at her daughter.

  “I don’t think so,” Leah said. “We always talk about going to Grammie’s house but we don’t use the address. We don’t say we’re going to Duncan Avenue.”

  “Of course,” Rena said again. “Mrs. Broadstreet, do you live alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there a Mr. Broadstreet?”

  “There was. He’s been dead for many years.”

  “Okay. We’re going to want to take a look at your house and your vehicle. Do we have your permission to do that?”

  “I guess. Although I think the time might be better spent searching around the day care.”

  “We’ll be doing that, too,” Rena assured her. “Just one more question, Mrs. Broadstreet. You’re absolutely sure it was Kara Wiese that you saw in the lobby this morning?”

  “I...of course I’m sure. Emma has been in her room for months.”

  “And what’s your relationship with Kara?”

  “She’s fine. I mean, I think she’s good with the kids.”

  “Then you can’t think of any reason why she might not remember this morning’s events exactly the same way as you do?”

  Mrs. Broadstreet stared at her. “I’ve told you what happened. I saw her by the office and I left Emma with her. If she’s saying anything else, then she’s a liar.”

  * * *

  Rena found A.L. alone in Emma Whitman’s classroom. “Blithe checked vehicles for Alice Quest, Troy Whitman, Leah Whitman and Elaine Broadstreet. All cleared. Now he’s going to accompany Leah Whitman home. He’ll search the house while he’s there. I’ve got Officer Taylor following Elaine Broadstreet home and he’ll search that property.”

  “Tell me about your conversation with Elaine,” he said.

  She did.

  “We need to check her route, see if we can place her there,” A.L. said.

  “Just sent the text asking for someone to check the street cameras. It bothers me that she didn’t say anything initially about signing Emma in on the clipboard. I had to prompt it.”

  “Could be something,” he agreed. “Will be less important if we can place her driving here with Emma and then driving away without Emma.”

  “Agree. Tell me what Kara Wiese had to say?”

  He did and finished up with, “Troy Whitman and Kara Wiese are joining the other volunteers. I imagine Alice Quest is in her office, calling her attorney and insurance carrier. I told our guys that we were going to need Alice and her desktop computer to get some information. They’ve cleared her office and Classroom 1, as well as the hallway bathroom for use. Everything else is off limits for now.”

  “Fine. You know she told me she has a granddaughter Emma’s age,” Rena said. “Two granddaughters, in fact. Five and three. I think she’s feeling this on all different levels.”

  “Is she married?” A.L. asked.

  Rena flipped a page of her notebook, proving that she’d put the time with Alice to good use. “Divorced for more than fifteen years. Ex-husband died six years ago. Has one adult daughter who lives in Baywood with her husband and two children. That’s why she came to Baywood five years ago. To be close to her daughter, who was having a difficult pregnancy. Needed a job. Has a degree in early education and had taught preschool when she was raising her daughter. This business was for sale and she jumped at the chance to buy it. She’d come into some unexpected money when it was discovered that her ex never took her off as a beneficiary on his insurance policy.”

  “Lucky break for her. So what do you think so far?” A.L. asked.

  “I have no idea. A loving grandmother, by all appearances, drops off her five-year-old granddaughter at day care, in the custody of a trusted teacher. Ten hours later, it’s discovered that the child is missing and nobody from the day care has seen her and said teacher claims she was never in the lobby and didn’t see either the child or grandmother.”

  “Is the grandmother lying? Is she confused? Is Kara Wiese lying? But why? She’s worked here for more than three years. Her boss has never had any reason to be concerned,” A.L. said.

  “Agree. If we believe one, we can’t believe the other. If we believe both of them, then the only logical explanation is that Elaine thought she handed Emma off to her teacher but it was somebody else. And maybe that person didn’t even realize what was happening. She’s standing there, minding her own business, and somebody says good morning. She responds with good morning like most people do. Then she leaves. Goes to work. To the gym. Wherever
. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Emma is alone in the hallway for a few minutes, then maybe she’s outside. And then something happens. What, we just don’t know.”

  “What’s this feel like to you?” A.L. asked.

  “You’re not the touchy-feely type,” Rena said, her tone full of suspicion.

  “Missing five-year-old,” A.L. said. “I’m willing to pull out all the stops. If I thought it would help, I’d be knocking on the psychic’s door right now.”

  “Well, I’m not psychic but I think there is definitely something not quite right between Troy and Leah Whitman. They’re each staying pretty strong, given the circumstances, but they don’t seem to be drawing strength from one another.”

  He’d noticed that. No hugs. No arms around a shoulder. No clasped hands. Didn’t mean they were bad people, bad parents, or in any way responsible for Emma’s disappearance. “When Troy mentioned Garage on Division, you had a reaction.”

  She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Missing five-year-old,” he said.

  “Gabe was having some trouble with his car last week. Needed a tune-up or something. Anyway, the garage we usually use closed down about six months ago so he was looking for someplace new. He asked for recommendations at Sunday dinner at the Morgans’. One of his sisters said that she always took her car to Garage on Division, but then his brother said that he’d heard some bad things about their work. That there was even some talk that the place might be close to shutting down.”

  “Gabe and his brother are talking again?” Months ago Danny Morgan had made a pass at Rena and things between the two Morgan men had gotten sticky.

  “Gabe and Danny are civil to one another. We’ve had a couple family things this summer and nobody ended up in the emergency room. Always happy and relieved about that.”

  “Nobody else in the family knows,” A.L. said.

  “God, no,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s a secret that Danny, Gabe and I are taking to our graves.”

  “Another couple years, you’ll be laughing about the whole thing.”

  “A stiff smile, perhaps. I wish it was like it was before.”

  “Give it time. Jacqui and I can actually do small talk now.” He’d been divorced for five years after his wife had decided to warm somebody else’s bed. “It doesn’t happen overnight.”