Suspicions: a novel of suspense Read online

  “No. I'm fine. What was it you needed to talk to me about?”

  “I wanted to tell you about some new items before your party tonight.” Patricia beamed.

  Stacey felt a spark of irritation. “Couldn't we have done that over the phone? Today really wasn't a good day.”

  Patricia's smile was patronizing. “We haven't done one of these little lunches in a while and I had to give you a good excuse to get out of that house, didn't I?”

  Stacey sighed inwardly, deciding to enjoy the lunch even if she didn't particularly enjoy the company. “I suppose you brought the products with you, then?”

  “Actually, no.” Patricia lifted one eyebrow. “I didn't want to lug them here, then into your car. I'll still come by your house tonight.”

  “Okay, whatever,” Stacey said, trying to hide her irritation. “How are things with you, Patricia?” Stacey wanted to keep the conversation away from herself and her problems.

  Patricia seemed surprised by Stacey's interest and hesitated before answering. “Things are okay, I suppose.” Her eyes began to narrow. “Why do you ask?”

  Was it such an unexpected question? Stacey thought. “I was just wondering how you and your husband are.” Stacey smiled tentatively.

  Patricia jerked her head back as if she'd been struck and her mouth fell open. “Haven't you heard? I thought everyone knew.”

  Stacey's heart began to pound, knowing she must have just made an incredible faux pas. “I'm so sorry, Patricia. I haven't heard anything.”

  Ignoring Stacey's discomfort, Patricia busied herself by readjusting the napkin in her lap. “No matter. It's all in the past.”

  Her interest was now piqued, but Stacey said nothing more on the matter, instead waiting for Patricia to take the lead.

  “So,” Patricia began brightly, “How are things in the Hunter household? All is well, I assume?”

  The rapid switch in conversation caught Stacey off guard and she felt her face pale. Trying to recover, she lifted her water glass and took a small sip. Then, picking up the menu she asked, “What are you getting?” When she looked at Patricia to see how she would react to the avoided question she was surprised at the expression on her face. She almost looked triumphant. No, Stacey thought, that can't be right. Why would she be pleased that things aren't going well at my house? Why would she care? It sounds like she has her own problems to deal with.

  The look on Patricia's face left as quickly as it had arrived and Stacey doubted what she had seen. I must have misread her face, that's all, she thought.

  “I'm just having a salad today,” Patricia said, looking directly at Stacey.

  “What?” Stacey had been distracted by her thoughts and forgotten she'd asked.

  “You asked what I was having. I'm having a salad.” Patricia sipped her water and motioned for the waiter to come over.

  As Patricia ordered, Stacey watched her face, trying to remember exactly what she thought she had seen.

  “And you, ma'am?”

  Stacey realized the waiter was speaking to her. “I'll have the same,” she said and handed him the menu.

  Once the meal arrived they spent the rest of the time talking business. Stacey was relieved when it was time to leave. She found she was exhausted. Trying to put up a cheerful façade wiped her out.

  The women walked out to the parking lot with Patricia approaching her late model car and Stacey getting into her well-worn one.

  “Don't forget, Stacey. I'll stop by tonight.”

  Stacey just nodded, thankful to be going home. So many things were flying through her mind that it was hard to concentrate on the road. One was her concern for Kyle. Then there was her question about Jason's car and what that meant. Her concern for Amanda's well-being was close behind, and lastly was her curiosity about Patricia and what had happened to her husband.

  When she arrived home, she thought of a way to find out if Jason still owned the little brown car. Going online, she looked up the phone number for the Department of Motor Vehicles.

  “Can you tell me what cars are registered to Jason Hunter?” she asked the woman who answered.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t give that information over the phone. I would need Mr. Hunter to come into the DMV with photo identification before I can share that information.”

  “Oh. Well, if I had the VIN for a certain car, could you tell me who the registered owner is?”

  “Again, I’d need you to come into the DMV for that.”

  Stacey thanked the woman and hung up, frustrated that she hadn’t learned anything.

  I don’t have the VIN for that old car anyway, she thought.

  Wandering over to the front window, Stacey gazed at Amanda’s house and fought with herself over whether to report the information Robby had told her. On the one hand, she thought, it could be a critical clue in Kyle’s kidnapping. On the other hand, it could possibly lead to Jason’s arrest.

  But Jason couldn’t kidnap a child, could he? Stacey wondered. Could he be that desperate for money that he would kidnap a child for ransom? Wouldn’t I know if he was planning such a thing?

  Again she recalled her father and the complete shock it had been when he’d been arrested for theft.

  * * *

  The smell of chocolate filled the air as Patricia pulled out the batch of cookies. She hummed to herself as she scooped the fresh treats off of the baking sheet and set them on the cooling rack.

  “I haven’t made chocolate chip cookies in a long time,” she said to the empty room. “At least not since Mr. Summers was here.”

  Most of the dough was gone when she poured in half a cup of walnuts.

  “These are just for you, Stacey,” she said as she watched the beaters spin. “A special treat for a special wife and mommy.” She turned off the mixer as she spoke.

  The finished product was placed on a paper plate, separate from the plain chocolate chip cookies. Patricia covered both plates in colorful plastic wrap and set them by the front door.

  Chapter Ten

  Later that afternoon, after the children had their after school snacks and were settling down to play, a knock sounded at the door. Before Stacey could stop him, Robby ran to the door and threw it open.

  “Hello, young man. My name is Detective Perkins. Is your mother home?”

  Robby had always been taught that policemen were his friends, so he opened the door wider and invited him in. “I'll go get my mom. You can go in there,” he said, pointing to the living room.

  Stacey was in the kitchen trying to steady her breathing before going in to talk to the Detective. Robby hardly gave her a chance. He ran in, shouting, “Mom, Mom, there's a policeman in our house and he wants to talk to you.” When she hesitated he pulled on her arm. “Come on, Mom. Go talk to him.”

  Wiping her suddenly sweaty hands on her jeans, she followed him into the front room.

  Forcing a smile on her face, Stacey entered the room as Perkins held out his hand.

  “Mrs. Hunter, I was wondering if I could ask Robby a couple of questions about his friend, Kyle.” When she hesitated, he added, “You can stay with him the entire time if you'd like.”

  She certainly couldn't refuse now, she realized with horror. She thought her jaw would crack from the effort of keeping the smile on her face.

  Detective Perkins turned his attention to Robby, who was more than happy to tell him all he knew. When the description of the car came up Stacey held her breath. Her heart pounded when Perkins looked her way.

  “How long have you known Robby was an eyewitness, Mrs. Hunter?”

  “I told her this morning,” Robby said helpfully.

  Perkins gave her a questioning look.

  “I'm sorry, I guess I should have called you,” Stacey said, fresh guilt and worry rushing through her.

  His look was incredulous. “Do you realize your delay could be hurting Kyle?”

  She shook her head, uncertain what to say.

  “If you learn anything else, any
thing at all, please call me immediately.” He handed her his card.

  “I'll be sure to do that,” she said, then thought, he would be furious if he knew what I was withholding. She stood and walked him to the door.

  After he left, Robby asked, “When is Kyle coming home?”

  “I don't know, sweetheart. I hope he comes home soon.”

  “Am I going to be kidnapped, Mom?”

  She immediately took him into her arms. “Of course not, Robby. You're perfectly safe.”

  He didn't look convinced. “But Kyle got kidnapped.”

  Sitting on the couch, she pulled him down next to her and tried to explain. “Robby, there are lots of people in the world and most of them are good, kind people.” She hesitated, wondering how to explain this. “But there are a few people who are not so kind.”

  “Like the kidnapper,” he interjected.

  “Right. Like the kidnapper. And people have different reasons for doing things.” His brows had become furrowed, deep in concentration. Stacey continued. “They took Kyle because they wanted some money from his parents. They knew Kyle's parents would give them money if they would give Kyle back.” She hoped the explanation would satisfy him.

  “Would you and Daddy pay money to get me back?”

  She pulled him close. “Of course we would, Robby. We love you very much. But, you see, Kyle's mom and dad have a lot of money. Daddy and I don't. So no one would want to take our money.” She looked him in the eyes. “Do you understand?”

  He nodded slowly. “I guess.”

  Stacey rubbed his back. “If you'd like, you can go watch cartoons for a while.”

  She sent him off to watch television with Nikki, glad his fears could so easily be put to rest.

  Her own fears were something else, she thought as she gnawed on a fingernail, a habit she thought she had given up in junior high. She deliberated for a while on what to do about Jason and finally decided she would ask him about the old brown car that night after they'd put the children to bed. In the meantime she would act as normal as possible around him.

  Before she knew it, it was time to get dinner started. Quickly fixing a casserole, she put it in the oven then went into the office to prepare a few necessary things for that night's party. While she was engrossed in packing up the needed items, a hand came down on her shoulder. She shrieked and the little lipstick samples she had been holding went flying into the air. “Don't do that!” she said, when she saw it was Jason.

  “I'm sorry,” he laughed. “Why are you so jumpy anyway?”

  It suddenly occurred to her how to test him. “Detective Perkins came by today.” She stopped, waiting to see his reaction, then went on when he didn't answer. “I couldn't keep him from talking to Robby.”

  “And did Robby have anything interesting to say?”

  Not knowing how to take his neutral response, she said, “Why don’t you ask him? I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you all about it. Besides, I need to clean up this mess.”

  All smiles, he said, “Sure, honey. I'll go check on the kids.”

  He left the room and after a moment Stacey quietly followed him down the hall. She stood around the corner from the family room where no one could see her. If someone came around the corner she wouldn't know it until they were practically standing on her toes. Trying to quiet her breathing and slow her racing heart, she listened to the voices coming from the adjacent room.

  Jason spoke and Robby answered. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but Jason didn’t sound upset. That was a good sign, she thought.

  Then she heard the soft sound of footsteps on thick carpet. She was frozen to the spot.

  “What are you doing, Mommy?” Nikki asked, coming around the corner.

  Jason was right behind her, his face amused like he had known what she was up to the whole time. “Yeah, Stacey. What are you doing?”

  Embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping, she walked past them. “I was just coming to check on dinner.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It was eight-thirty that evening when Stacey pulled away from the house where the make-up demonstration had been held. She felt satisfied by the night's work, but was glad to be getting home early. When she turned the corner to her street she saw Patricia's car in the driveway - in Stacey's spot.

  She felt an ache beginning behind her right eye. Patricia knew I wouldn't be home for a little while, Stacey reminded herself. What is she doing here already?

  Stacey had to pull up at the curb.

  Upon entering the house she could hear Patricia's throaty laughter followed by Jason's masculine voice. Stacey felt uneasy, but pushed the feeling away and walked into the family room where her husband and children were sharing a bowl of popcorn with her director. Stacey almost felt like an intruder.

  Stacey looked directly at Patricia. “You're early.”

  She was all innocence. “Am I? I thought you said you'd be home by eight.”

  Had she been here that long? Stacey felt greatly irritated. She was almost certain Patricia knew they had agreed on nine. “Do you have the products?”

  Patricia gave Jason an engaging smile. “Jason was kind enough to help me carry the boxes into the other room.”

  Stacey looked at Jason with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Thank you, honey.”

  The silence stretched on uncomfortably until Patricia stood and put on her coat. “Well, I guess I'll be going now.” She turned back to Jason. “Thank you for the popcorn.”

  “Sure thing,” he said, staring at the now-empty bowl.

  “Oh, and Stacey? I brought over some cookies for you. The ones with the nuts are especially for you.” She smiled at Jason. “I know you and the children don’t care for nuts.”

  “Thanks,” Stacey said, opening the door for Patricia. As they stepped onto the porch Stacey let out a shriek.

  “What in the world is wrong?” Patricia asked.

  Stacey didn’t say anything. Grimacing, she pointed at a large black spider that hung near the front door. Patricia took off one high-heeled shoe and smashed the spider against the house. Embarrassed by her fright, Stacey didn’t say anything.

  “All better now,” Patricia said. She turned to go but stopped and twisted back to Stacey. “Sorry about getting here early. Sometimes it gets so quiet at my house that I just can’t stand it.” Then she walked out to her car and left.

  I wonder where her husband is, Stacey thought before going back into the house.

  When she went back inside she could hear Jason putting the children to bed. He's probably trying to avoid me, she thought. She walked to her bedroom to change into a pair of sweats but stopped in her tracks as she stood in the doorway. Stacked neatly in one corner of her bedroom were several boxes with “Beautiful You” written on them.

  Calmly changing into sweats, Stacey waited while Jason put the children to bed. At Patricia's parting words she had felt sorry for her and her irritation had diminished. But now . . .

  When she heard Jason go into the family room she went into the children's rooms and kissed them goodnight. Then she walked into the family room where Jason was suddenly engrossed in a television program. An unfamiliar scent of perfume lingered in the air. She picked up the remote and turned off the television.

  “Hey,” he said in annoyance.

  “What was Patricia doing in our bedroom? You know perfectly well that I keep my products in the office.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “When she got here I offered to help her carry the boxes in.”

  “Yeah, I know how helpful you can be,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, she got to the front door first and I just followed her in. She headed to our bedroom and I didn't want to embarrass her by telling her that was the wrong room. I was planning to put the stuff in our office before you got home.”

  “I'll bet you were.”

  He was getting exasperated. “Look. She's your boss. I was just trying to be polite.”

  Thoug
h bothered by his actions, she knew she shouldn't jump to conclusions. “I'm sorry, Jason. It's been a bad day. I guess I'm just on edge.”

  “By the way, your sister called. She mentioned you sounded upset and you said it was urgent.” His eyebrows drew together. “What's going on?”

  She was caught off guard. “Nothing. I just wanted to tell her about Kyle, that's all.” She hesitated, thinking about the brown car with the red trunk. “Jason?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember that old brown Toyota Celica you used to own?”

  “Yeah? What about it?”

  “When did you sell it?”

  An expression of surprise flashed across his features, but he quickly recovered. “I don’t remember.” He paused. “I’m tired, Stacey. I’m going to bed.” He suddenly grinned and walked over to her, pulling her into his arms. “Are you coming?”

  Though his answer had been vague, Stacey felt reassured by his strength and knew she had to believe he was innocent of anything to do with Kyle’s kidnapping. He gazed into her eyes and she felt drawn to him. She slid her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “Let’s go to bed early tonight.”

  He smiled down at her, picked her up and carried her into their bedroom. As they crossed the threshold she couldn't help noticing the boxes stacked in the corner and felt a little swirl of a doubt whisper through her head.

  Chapter Twelve

  Day 4 – Thursday

  Stacey awoke to the gentle sound of raindrops falling on the roof. Pushing herself out of bed, she smiled at the sight of her husband still curled up under the covers. But the smile was cut off as her gaze rested on the boxes in her room.

  Anger burned her throat as she thought about Patricia coming into her bedroom. How dare she? Stacey thought. She's been in the office before and I know she must have seen the products in there. What was she trying to pull?

  Looking at the sleeping form of her husband she wondered if he was even aware of Patricia's manipulations. She didn't think so. He would never do anything to hurt her.