Suspicions (10 page)

Amanda hesitated. “I don't know. What if they
hang up before you get up here? Then I'll miss the call.”

Stacey was torn between understanding and
exasperation. “What would you like me to do?”

Amanda looked at Stacey with pleading in her
eyes. “Stay in here while I'm in the shower. Then I could answer it
in time.”

Stacey agreed, hoping the phone didn't ring
while she was in Mark's office.

Jason pushed open the bathroom door and
walked out onto the showroom floor. Glancing out the window onto
the car lot, he saw his buddy, Steve, talking to two men dressed in
suits. He shrugged his shoulders, hoping he would get the next
customer.

His cell phone began ringing.

“Hello?”

“Jason,” Stacey said. “Where have you been?
I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I was in the bathroom,” he laughed. “What’s
going on?” As he listened to her, he watched what was going on
outside. Steve was still talking to the two men in suits and Jason
became alarmed when he saw Steve point in his direction.

“Well, I’m not quite sure how to say -”
Stacey said.

“Hang on,” Jason interrupted. He stared as
the two men, who now looked a little too official for his comfort,
walked toward the showroom. “I’ve got to go,” Jason said quickly
into his cell phone. “I’ll call you later.” Ending the connection,
he walked in the opposite direction of the men in suits, heeding a
feeling that they weren’t bringing good news.

The sound of his name being shouted stopped
him and forced him to acknowledge the two men. As much as his brain
told him to run in the other direction, he knew everyone, including
his boss, was watching the exchange. He put a broad smile on his
face as he began walking toward the men, his hand extended.

The men did not smile as they each took a
turn shaking his outstretched hand. Jason's smile faded as the men
pulled out badges and introduced themselves as agents for the
Federal Bureau of Investigations.

“How can I help you?” Jason asked, the
feeling of unease increasing.

“We have a few questions we'd like to ask
you.” They looked around the showroom at their audience. “We'd like
you to come with us, please.”

Jason knew it wasn't a request and followed
them out to their car. “I can get you a good deal on a car,” Jason
said, as he scrutinized their dark blue sedan.

Their response told Jason volumes. “Are you
trying to bribe a federal agent?”

He tried to laugh. “Why would I need to bribe
you?”

They ignored his question as they opened the
rear door for him. He tried to smile confidently at his fellow
salesmen, who watched as the agent shut the door.

The cold gray folding chair did nothing to
ease Jason's discomfort. He knew something was seriously wrong when
they read him his rights. They were using an interrogation room at
the police station, the two FBI agents asking all the
questions.

“Just what exactly is this about?” Jason
asked, a tense smile on his face.

“Mr. Hunter, do you own a brown Toyota
Celica?” the first agent asked.

Jason eyed the man warily, knowing his answer
was not going to satisfy him. “I used to.”

The agents looked at each other. “And where
is it now?”

Jason let out a sigh. “I sold it to some guy
a while ago.”

“And who is this 'guy'?”

“I don’t remember his name. I signed over the
title to him, though.”

The agent looked skeptical. “The DMV shows
you as the registered owner. Did you submit a Notice of Transfer
and Release of Liability form to the DMV?”

Shaking his head Jason said, “I know I
screwed up.”

The second agent took over. “Now, Mr. Hunter.
You are a car salesman. You deal with car buyers all the time. Why
would you not turn in the proper paperwork to the DMV?”

Sighing again, Jason rubbed a spot between
his eyes. “I know it was stupid.” He looked up as the agent snorted
in ridicule. Jason went on. “I was busy and kept putting if off and
then I forgot about it. Now I don't even know where I put the
stupid form. The guy said he was just going to use it for parts so
I didn't worry about it too much. Besides, he specifically told me
to 'take my time.' ”

Skepticism was written all over the agent's
face. “Didn't you find that odd? Why didn't you press him for his
reason?”

Jason felt beads of sweat forming on his
upper lip. He brushed his finger across the wet spot, watching as
the agents took note of his discomfort, knowing it only made him
look guiltier. “I didn't want to scare him away. It was the only
offer I'd had on the car.” He tried to laugh. “It was in pretty bad
shape. The trunk didn't even match the rest of the car.” He stopped
laughing at the look on the agents' faces. “What?”

“Mr. Hunter. We have reason to believe your
car was involved in Kyle Stone's kidnapping.”

Jason felt like he had been punched in the
gut and he came halfway out of his chair. “What?!”

The first agent smirked, pleased at his
response. “That's right. Your son identified that particular car as
being the one in the vicinity of the boy who was kidnapped.”

Jason was speechless. Somehow that little
detail had been missing from the story Robby had told him the night
before.

The agent leaned toward Jason menacingly.
“And, one of your co-workers told us you were on an 'errand' that
very afternoon.”

The agent sat back, apparently pleased with
his morning's work.

How could Steve tell them he was on an errand
at the time of the kidnapping? Didn't he realize what he was doing?
“Am I under arrest or what?”

“No, Mr. Hunter. You're free to go. But we
would like you to take a polygraph test.”

“What for?” Jason said, suddenly
panicked.

“It's routine in cases like this. It will
help us to rule you out.”

“What if I say no?”

“Why would you do that?” The agent said, his
head cocked to one side.

“Can I think about it?” Jason said, alarmed
at the idea the FBI would possibly find out things he'd rather keep
secret.

“A young boy is missing, Mr. Hunter. As you
know, a ransom note has been delivered. We don't have time for you
'to think about it.' We need an answer now.”

Pressing his shaking hands against his legs,
he forced control into his voice. “I'm afraid my answer has to be
no.”

The agents stared at him.

“Can I go now?” Jason asked.

The first agent nodded his head as the other
agent stormed from the room.

A short time later Jason left the police
station. He had to wait at the bus stop for twenty minutes before a
bus came by. After he was dropped off at the dealership he ignored
the questioning looks of his colleagues as he walked over to his
own car. He climbed in and drove off of the car lot, too upset to
stay any longer.

He decided to drive around for a while. An
hour later he felt unnerved as he kept glancing in the rear view
mirror. He had a feeling someone was following him.

Stacey sat on the small chair next to the
phone in Amanda's room. The moment she heard the shower turn on,
she dashed down the stairs and into the office, closing the door
behind her. Pulling the keys out of her pocket, she tried to guess
which was the right one. There were four different keys on the
ring, all of them about the same small size.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered. It took
several tries before she discovered the right key. Letting out a
breath, she pulled open the top drawer. The files appeared to be in
alphabetical order. She was beginning to appreciate Mark's
neat-freak personality.

Toward the front she saw a file marked Bank
Records. She felt a prick of guilt at delving into the Stone's
privacy, but knew her husband was more important than anyone's
privacy.

The last page in the manila folder seemed to
be the most current. She looked it over and noticed only Mark's
name on it. That's interesting, she thought, they must have
separate bank accounts.

The one she was holding looked like a
checking account statement. The average balance was about three
thousand dollars. She was envious of the amount, but wondered if it
was a typical amount.

As she pulled out several past statements it
was obvious the balance on the latest one was actually quite low.
She looked back through the last year of statements and noticed
that for the first six months, the average balance was around nine
thousand dollars. But during the last six months the amount of the
average balance had gone down continuously.

Stacey glanced at her watch. It had been at
least five minutes since she had left Amanda. She wondered how much
time she had before Amanda would notice she wasn't waiting by the
phone.

What if she calls out to me and I don't
answer? Her heart raced at the thought. She shoved the bank
statements into the file, shut the drawer and locked it.

As she trotted up the stairs she thought
about the bank statement. It seemed like Mark's finances had
changed significantly lately. Stacey wondered what had happened in
the last six months to cause Mark's spending habits to change so
dramatically. She felt she needed to look at more of his files to
solve this puzzle.

The first thing Stacey heard as she entered
Amanda's room was the lack of water running in the bathroom. Then
she heard Amanda calling out her name.

“I'm right here, Amanda,” Stacey shouted
back, while settling in the chair next to the phone.

“Did anyone call while I was in the
shower?”

Stacey assured her the phone had remained
silent. The bathroom door opened a crack.

“Thanks for staying, Stacey. I feel much
better.”

Stacey smiled. “I'll wait for you
downstairs.”

“Okay. And thanks.” Amanda shut the door.

As Stacey stood to leave she glanced at the
crystal bowl where she had found the keys. Guilt suffused her as
she considered what she was doing. Then an image of her father
flashed into her mind. I’m nothing like him, she thought in
desperation. I’m only doing it for my family. It’s my fault Jason
is under suspicion. Now it’s my responsibility to find the truth,
whatever it takes and whatever I have to do.

Then, knowing she would have to put the keys
back soon, she decided to make a copy of the keys first. Then she
would be able to look in Mark's files again if the opportunity
arose.

She walked back down the stairs, tempted to
go into Mark's office right then, even walking down the hall toward
his office. Instead she turned back and went into the living room
to wait for Amanda. Just as she sat down and picked up a magazine,
Mark walked in the door. A wave of nausea swept over her as she
realized how close she had come to getting caught.

Mark gave her a cursory hello and headed
straight for his office. Stacey took advantage of the moment and
made her exit. Shoving through the reporters as they yelled their
questions, she ran across the street and through her own front
door, leaning against it and gulping several deep breaths until her
heart rate returned to normal.

Slowly, she walked into the kitchen and
poured herself a glass of water, her hand only trembling slightly.
Noticing the cookies Patricia had made for her, she unwrapped the
pretty covering and selected one. She brought it to her lips, but
as she was about to take a bite, the nausea returned and she
dropped the cookie back onto the plate.

Instead, she headed to the office where she
checked the answering machine. Half-expecting to find a message
from Jason asking her to bail him out of jail, she was surprised to
find no messages waiting.

I wonder what’s happening with him, she
thought. She dialed his cell phone but his voice mail picked up.
Not leaving a message, she hung up and pictured him being booked
into jail, his cell phone confiscated.

As this scenario played out in her mind, she
again felt the weight of her choice to tell the FBI about his car.
It was the right thing to do, she thought. I couldn’t live with
myself if I had evidence that could help Kyle and didn’t share
it.

She slid into the desk chair and gazed out
the window. Then, deciding it would be a good idea to keep track of
what she found, she pulled out a pen and paper. She considered the
information she had come across, then wrote down the bank statement
amounts and the words: changes in the last six months?

Now that she was safely in her own home, she
was relieved she had been able to find some information to pursue,
even though she hadn’t known what to look for exactly. And though
she felt guilty about snooping in Mark’s office, she knew she had
to find the truth to clear Jason’s name.

As she thought about the tiny bit of
information she’d stumbled across, she wondered if she dared look
for more. The weight of the keys in her pocket reminded her that
she had actually taken something that didn’t belong to her. She had
to make a choice. Would she make a copy of the keys and search for
more or would she give the keys back and leave it to the FBI to
investigate?

Recalling other cases where the wrong person
was hounded until his reputation was in shambles, Stacey decided
she would do all she could to prove her husband’s innocence before
his life was ruined.

As she thought about Jason, she again
wondered what had happened with the FBI. Did they have him in
custody? When would she hear from him?

To take her mind off her husband, Stacey went
to the porch to get the mail. Then she returned to the office and
sifted through the envelopes, putting the bills on the ever-growing
pile on the corner of the desk while throwing the junk mail in the
trash. The only thing left was an envelope with her name on it but
with no return address.