Play by Play (A Play Makers Novella) (10 page)

So why did she feel so nervous? So inadequate?

Because you’re a wimp,
she told herself in frustration.
But you can’t afford to be one now, so suck it up.

According to reports, the traumatized four-year-old hadn’t ventured out of her bedroom since the kidnapping. But wasn’t it possible she’d come downstairs for this, the arrival of her favorite TV star?

Nikki needed to be ready for anything, including that, as she prepared to make her entrance.

• • •

As Josh looked on in frustrated silence, Matt opened the door for the actress, then stepped aside to facilitate her entry. He might as well have bowed to her, he was so obsequious. So completely smitten by her Hollywood aura. Even his voice seemed off, like he was meeting his childhood fantasy. “Thanks for coming, Ms. Gower. I’m Matt. We talked on the phone.”

She pulled off her sunglasses and flashed a dazzling smile. “Hi, Matt. Call me Nikki.”

“This is Lorna Ainsworth, the mom. It was her idea to bring you in.”

“Hi, Lorna.” Nikki’s smile softened. “How’s Linzie doing?”

To everyone’s surprise, Lorna threw herself into the newcomer’s arms. “I’m so glad you’re here! We didn’t know where else to turn.”

Nikki patted the woman’s back. “Everything’s going to be fine, I promise. She’s my biggest fan, right?”

“She really does adore you,” Lorna agreed, wiping tears from her eyes. “
All
of us do. Right, Kevin?”

Kevin Ainsworth proffered his hand. “We’re incredibly grateful, Ms. Gower. I’m Linzie’s dad.”

“No, no. You need to call her Agent Trace,” Lorna told him. “We
all
should, don’t you think?”

Josh tensed at the suggestion, and Nikki Gower seemed to notice. Probably a drama thing—nonverbal cues.

His supervisor chimed in. “That sounds right to me.” Then his tone grew mischievous. “Agent Annika Trace, let me present Special Agent Josh Saxon. He’s primary on this, so you’ll be working directly with him.”

“Hi, Agent Saxon,” Nikki said, offering her hand. “It’s an honor.”

“Good to meet you.” He accepted the handshake, then informed her bluntly, “You should know I wasn’t consulted on your involvement, and I have my doubts. I hope you prove me wrong.”

“Wow,” she said, laughing lightly. “It’s hard to believe Linzie hasn’t warmed up to you yet. She must be made of stone.”

“Really, Agent Saxon,” Lorna scolded. “Agent Trace came all this way to help. And she’s right, none of us has gotten through to Linzie yet, so . . .” She turned back to the actress. “Do you want to meet her?”

“I’m dying to. But first I need a more thorough briefing so I don’t say the wrong thing. I only know what I read in the newspapers plus the background Agent Moreno shared during our phone call. Is there a file I should review?”

“The
confidential
file?” Josh drawled. “It wouldn’t help much. Mostly forensics, that sort of thing. We’ve investigated the hell out of it, but every clue led to a dead end. What we need is to get Linzie talking, and since
I’ve
been banned from her room, that’s where you come in.”

She studied him for a second and he thought she was going to take another shot at him, but instead she just shrugged. “Sounds like showtime. Does she know I’m here?”

“I wanted to surprise her,” Lorna said. “I’ll take you up and introduce you. She doesn’t talk to me, but at least she tolerates my presence. Poor Kevin can’t even get near her.”

Josh stepped between the two women. “I’d actually like to consult with Ms. Gower for a minute—in private—before she goes up.”

Predictably, Matt sent him a warning glance before announcing, “I’ll show myself out. Keep me informed, Agent Saxon.”

“Will do.”

After his supervisor had left, Josh took Nikki’s arm, murmured, “This way,” and led her to the media room. “I use this as a base of operations. We can monitor Linzie for her safety and for any indication she wants to talk.” He touched an icon on a high-tech remote and a video image of the little girl appeared on a TV monitor.

As always, four-year-old Linzie Ainsworth sat primly on a pink sofa staring at a blank forty-six-inch TV screen mounted on the wall of her bedroom.

“She’s so darling,” the actress said with a sigh. “Does she really just sit like that all day?”

“Pretty much.”

“Agent Moreno said the psychologists diagnosed her as depressed. But that looks more like complete withdrawal.”

“Withdrawal, trauma, shell shock—they’ve got a million words for it. And meanwhile the clock is ticking.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s been almost five days since we recovered her,” he explained. “And we don’t have a shred of decent evidence to go on. Her memory—assuming she has one—will fade over time. I need details now.”

“Okay, I’ll get you some.”

He glared. “Just like that? Listen, I don’t doubt your star power, but this kid’s fragile. You can’t overwhelm her with questions, and she overwhelms easily. You need to take it slow.”

“Understood.”

Her clipped, confident reply annoyed him—like she thought they were colleagues conferring on a case, when she was really just the entertainment. Still, her participation had been ordained from above, so he tried to keep his tone civil. “At this point, anything is better than nothing. So concentrate on the big-ticket items—how many kidnappers did she see? Were they all men? Was she held in a residence or someplace commercial? That sort of thing. But not all at once. And frankly,” he added, mostly to himself, “you probably won’t get anything anyway.”

“That’s the spirit. Does she know you’re watching her?”

“What?”

Nikki pointed to the big screen. “It’s kind of invasive. I’d feel better if she knew.”

“Go ahead. It can’t make things worse than they already are.”

“Okay.” She flashed a hopeful smile. “Wish me luck.”

“You’re taking that purse into her room? Mind if I see what’s in there?”

“You mean besides the file I baked into a cake?” She opened the bag and took out a DVD of her show’s first season, a bulging makeup kit, an ultrathin laptop computer, a wallet, a packet of tissues, and an e-reader. “That’s it, except for some pens and loose change. Feel free to dump it out if it makes you feel better.”

“Man.” He unzipped the clear cosmetic bag and rifled through the tubes and pencils. “Whatever happened to the natural look?”

“Have you seen
Trace Elements
?”

“No. Why?”

“Because this is how I look on TV. I’m supposed to be Annika Trace, right? Well, ta da.”

“This is how Hollywood pictures an FBI agent?”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “You haven’t gotten a word out of the kid, right? So if I get at least
one
word, I’m a better agent than you. Agreed?” She stuffed her belongings into the purse, then strode toward the hall, turning to add, “Thanks for being such a dick. Now I won’t feel guilty when I leave you in my dust.”

• • •

As Nikki followed Lorna Ainsworth up the dramatic marble staircase leading to the second floor, she decided her hostess was a lot like this house. Elegant, airy, and absolutely gorgeous.

As they neared the top of the stairs, the mom told her, “Linzie’s going to be so excited. She might not show it, but she loves
Trace Elements
, and she asked for you practically by name.”

“Practically?”

“When I asked if she’d feel more comfortable with a female agent, she went to the shelf and brought back your doll. I mean, the Annika Trace doll.”

Nikki pursed her lips. “She’ll communicate but not with words? Did they check her throat for injuries or illness?”

“Yes, it’s not physical. She hardly communicates in
any
form. We tried to get her to draw pictures but she won’t touch the crayons.”

“She just stares at a blank TV?”

“That’s the craziest part,” Lorna admitted. “She’s always been such a video addict. Mostly movies, but a few shows too, like yours. It was her favorite pastime before they took her, but now if we try to turn on a show or run a DVD, she gets upset.” She touched Nikki’s arm. “What if she never gets better?”

“She’ll get better, I promise. I just wish we could let her do it at her own pace, but Agent Saxon thinks the trail might get cold.” She arched a mischievous eyebrow. “Is he always such a grouch?”

“No, he’s been wonderful. A little gruff, maybe, but really patient with Linzie, even when she hides her face from him. I guess he’s just not open to experimentation—like bringing in a beautiful TV star. Kevin resisted at first too, so maybe it’s a guy thing.”

Nikki nodded. “Maybe so. But at least Agent Moreno has an open mind.”

“He’s always positive. Of course, he gets a
lot
more sleep than Agent Saxon. The poor guy—sometimes he just watches Linzie for hours, even though
she’s
just watching a blank screen. And he never goes home before midnight, if at all.”

Nikki sighed. Didn’t that make sense? Saxon was exhausted and frustrated, so no wonder he was also pessimistic. He had saved this girl. Given her a second chance at a fun, rewarding life. It must be killing him now, seeing her so afraid.

“We have a beautiful guest room on this floor,” Lorna was saying. “And it’s all yours. An exercise room too.”

“The FBI got me a hotel, but thanks. Your home is lovely.”

“I’m sure your Hollywood estate is ten times more beautiful.”

Nikki smiled, imagining how her pretty little house could almost fit into the Ainsworths’ grand entry hall. “It’s a ranch, so there’s lots of land, but not much indoor stuff. Two bedrooms, two baths, two horse stalls.” When Lorna stared as though horrified, Nikki smiled. “It’s amazing in its own way. So . . . you said Agent Saxon goes home to sleep? Does he exercise here? He’s in great shape, I’ll give him that.”

“He goes for a run every day, then showers here. So he keeps extra clothes in the closet. But he’s pretty private.” They had stopped in front of a closed door, where Lorna rested her hand on the doorknob. “Ready?”

Nikki winced at the slight tremble in the mom’s voice. Apparently Matt was right. Everyone in this household
was
exhausted. Everyone but Special Agent Annika Trace, so it was time for her to take up the slack. “You bet.”

Lorna opened the door and stepped into the room. “Linzie, honey? You have a visitor. Special delivery, just like you requested. Can you believe Agent Trace came all the way from California to help us?”

The little girl looked up from her pink couch and stared in clear disbelief, her mouth forming an awed O and her eyes widening expressively.

“Hi, Linzie, I’m Annika Trace. From the FBI.” Flashing her fake badge, she stepped closer, confused by the expression on the child’s pale face. “Nice to meet you.”

Linzie didn’t respond other than to continue staring, and for a moment Nikki wondered if they had underestimated the child. Maybe she didn’t believe a TV star was an actual federal agent after all. On the other hand, she had “asked” for Agent Trace when prompted about female detectives.

So which was it?

“The FBI sent me to help Agent Saxon. You know who he is, right? The big guy with the dark hair and deep voice. He thinks he’s in charge, but I’m pretty sure
I
am.” She sat next to the child. “It was your mom’s idea to bring me in on the case. I hope it’s okay with you.”

Lorna spoke up. “Honey? I’ll just give you and Agent Trace a chance to chat. But I’ll be back to tuck you in. And maybe Daddy will come with me—would that be okay?”

Linzie shook her head, and the gesture clearly affected Lorna, who bit her lip and didn’t seem able to respond further.

Tough crowd,
Nikki decided nervously. Aloud she said, “We’ll be fine, Mrs. Ainsworth. Tell Agent Saxon to watch very closely in case I have any orders for him.” She smiled at Linzie as Lorna left the room. “Did you know Agent Saxon has a security camera here, right over that bookcase, so he can always check on you? To be sure you’re safe every minute of every day. That’s a relief, right?”

The girl stared up at the camera, her eyes showing a hint of alarm.

“It makes you safer,” Nikki repeated. “Plus it’s convenient. Let’s say I wanted a cup of tea, I’d just say, ‘Hey, Agent Saxon, please bring me some tea and honey.’ And it works for you too. If you need something, or feel lonely, you could just say, ‘Hey, Agent Saxon, bring me some milk and cookies please.’ See what I mean?”

She had hoped Linzie would smile a little at the idea of the big man waiting on a little girl, but she just shifted her attention back to the blank TV screen.

During their early morning phone call, Matt Moreno had provided some background on this, explaining that Linzie was already tiny for her age, making it all the easier for the kidnappers to spirit her away. But supposedly she had a high IQ, just like her father. And while that should have made her a better witness, it actually worked against the Bureau’s efforts, since the usual ploys and temptations used by the agents and shrinks didn’t work on this kid. So the investigation languished while the child sat motionless in front of a TV, made all the more bizarre by her refusal to actually
watch
anything.

“Oh, that reminds me! I brought you a gift.” Rummaging in her purse, she found the DVD. “These won’t go on sale for a while, but I got you an advance copy. Every episode from season one—except the top-secret season finale—plus some outtakes. Do you know what those are? Like when we laugh during a serious scene, or flub one of our lines?”

Linzie accepted the present warily, as though it might explode on contact.

“Remember during the second episode, when Cole called me ‘obsessed’ but I said ‘I’m just being careful’? Well, originally I was supposed to say I was just being
vigilant
—that’s a word that means watchful—but I kept saying ‘villigent’ instead of ‘vigilant.’ I never improved, so they changed the line for me. Funny, right?”

Linzie bit her lip, then stood and walked to the DVD player, where she slipped the disc into place. Then she returned to the sofa, picked up a remote control, turned on the set, and selected “Pilot Episode” from the menu.