Suspicions (16 page)

As interested as the reporters to know if
anything new had happened, she knew she would need to talk to
Amanda to find out. She looked out the front window and saw
Amanda's car in the driveway.

I wonder where she was earlier? And if Mark
sent me those lovely spiders, then he knows I'm on to him. How will
he behave when I'm in his home?

Wanting to avoid the reporters, she almost
didn't go over to see Amanda, but she didn't want to tie up their
phone in case Kyle called again. After a few minutes the need to
know what was going on overcame her feelings of reticence toward
the reporters. The reporters surrounded her once again. “Did Mrs.
Stone call you to come over? Has something happened?”

Stacey ignored them as she walked to the
front door. Mark answered her knock, greeted her normally and
invited her in.

That's strange, Stacey thought. Maybe he
doesn't know I'm on to him. Maybe Deanna sent the spiders to me on
her own. But how would she know who I am? I gave her a false
name.

“Hi, Stacey,” Amanda said. Her hair and
make-up were done and her clothes looked freshly pressed.

“You're looking much better, Amanda.” Stacey
followed Amanda into the living room. “Have you heard anything more
from them?” She asked, avoiding the word “kidnappers.” She didn't
want to do anything to spoil Amanda's apparent good cheer.

Amanda blinked rapidly. “No, we haven't.”

Stacey bit her lip. “I noticed your car
wasn't in the driveway earlier. You were finally able to get
out?”

Amanda's eyes were unnaturally bright. It
seemed to Stacey that she was just barely holding on to her sanity.
“This morning I made a trip to my bank.” Amanda paused and Stacey
let this information sink in.

When Amanda didn't continue, Stacey had to
prompt her. “What did you do at your bank?”

Amanda's eyes seemed to refocus on Stacey.
“Oh. I was picking up the ransom money.”

Stacey was a bit taken aback at the
information. It made the situation seem much more real. “Have you
been told where to take it?”

Amanda glanced into the other room and pursed
her lips. “I probably shouldn't be telling you this but the FBI
wants us to wait another day before we deliver the money. They
don't want to start a precedence of paying off people who extort.”
Amanda seemed upset by this.

“Does Mark agree with the FBI?”

A maniacal laugh bubbled out of her mouth.
“He's furious with them. He wanted the money delivered two days
ago.”

Really? Stacey thought. Instead she said,
“I'm sure he just wants Kyle back as soon as possible.”

Amanda's head tipped to one side and her eyes
opened wide again. “So do I! In fact I told them that after
tomorrow I'm not going to wait one more day.” Her barely held
together composure began to slip. “I don't care about the money. I
just want my son back.” Red splotches appeared on her face and
tears filled her eyes.

Mark marched in. “What's wrong now,
Amanda?”

Amanda looked down at her hands, completely
ignoring him. He turned toward Stacey. “Maybe you should go now. I
don't think she's in any condition to have company.”

Stacey looked at Amanda, waiting for her to
say something. When she just sat there, ignoring her husband’s
remarks, Stacey stood and walked toward the door before turning
back toward her friend. “Please, Amanda. Call me if you need to
talk.”

Saddened by what Amanda and Mark were
experiencing, Stacey felt engulfed by despair. As she walked
through her front door she hoped the authorities would catch the
kidnapper soon. Then, as she considered Jason being the chief
suspect, fresh worry coursed through her.

I don’t think I can take this much longer,
she thought.

Trying to push her worries aside, she went
into the office to see if she had any messages. The flashing light
indicated one call had come in. Stacey hit the play button and
listened as Patricia asked Stacey to call back. Letting out an
exasperated sigh, Stacey picked up the phone and dialed Patricia's
number, then frowned as she waited for Patricia to answer.

“How’s your friend?” Patricia asked after
saying hello.

Surprised to know she cared, Stacey said,
“She seems to be doing okay, under the circumstances.”

“Have they heard anything more from the
kidnappers?”

Stacey knew better than to tell anyone Amanda
had just picked up the money. “I can't really say.”

“Oh. I understand. The FBI probably told you
not to say anything, right?”

“Right. They don't want the media to get a
hold of it.”

“That's a good idea,” she paused. “But you
can tell me.” A pleading tone came into her voice. “I promise I
won't tell anyone.”

“I'm sorry, Patricia. I really can't. Now,
what was it you needed?”

“I was calling to remind you about the
Beautiful You meeting at eleven-thirty this morning.”

Stacey pressed a finger to the spot between
her eyes and tried to hold back another sigh. That was in less than
an hour. “This really isn't a good time for me to be going to one
of those.”

“Now, now, Stacey,” she scolded. “You know
these are only held once a quarter.” Her voice took on a cajoling
tone. “Besides, it'll be fun. I'm sure you'll meet some new
colleagues.”

Patricia's tone grated on Stacey as she tried
to think of an excuse, but her mind only drew a blank.

“So, will I see you there?” Patricia
asked.

Maybe I can go for a little while then sneak
out, she thought. She tried to make her voice sound happy. “Yes, I
guess you will.”

After hanging up the phone she looked in her
Beautiful You papers and found the invitation to the quarterly
meeting. She knew these meetings were important to attend and she
certainly couldn’t afford to miss out. The money she made as a skin
care consultant had become a needed part of their income.

Resigned to attending, she fixed her hair and
made sure to apply all her make-up, including the foundation, which
she usually didn't like to wear. She didn't want the other
consultants to think she didn't know how to use the stuff.

Pulling into the parking lot and seeing it
was nearly full, she smiled. She knew the more crowded it was, the
easier it would be for her to sneak out.

I'll just sit in the back so I can leave
without notice, she reminded herself.

The sound of many women talking at once hit
her first. Then the warmth of the room surrounded her and she was
glad she had worn a short-sleeved blouse. Glancing around to see if
there were any faces she recognized, she was pleased to see Erica,
one of the few friends she'd made at Beautiful You. She went over
to say hello.

“Oh, Stacey. I was wondering if I'd see you
here.”

A small frown on her lips, Stacey said, “I
didn't really want to come, but Patricia pressured me into
coming.”

At the mention of Patricia's name, Erica
shook her head. “I know what you mean. She can be pretty pushy. And
it seems like she's been even more annoying ever since her husband
left her.”

“That must've been what she was talking
about,” Stacey said, understanding dawning.

“What?” Erica asked.

Stacey told her about the lunch conversation
she'd had with Patricia earlier that week.

“Yeah. That would be it.”

“How long ago did this happen anyway?” Stacey
asked.

“About four months ago, I think,” Erica said.
“You know, sometimes I feel sorry for her. You know why he left
don't you?”

“No,” Stacey said, suddenly intrigued.
“Why?”

“Apparently he really wanted children but
Patricia wasn't too excited about the idea. Then she started having
major female problems and ended up having a hysterectomy. Her
husband left in the middle of everything.”

“I didn't know that! How'd you find all this
out?”

“One of the other ladies told me. Someone
who's been in this business a lot longer than we have. She said
Patricia used to be this really hot saleswoman. But ever since her
husband left her. . .” Erica let her sentence trail off.

“Hmmm. I guess you never really know a
person.” Stacey paused. “Hey, it was great talking to you, but I'm
not planning on sticking around long. I'm going to find a place in
back to sit so I can sneak out.”

Sitting as far back as she could without
looking completely anti-social, Stacey tried to relax as she waited
for things to begin. After only a few minutes she felt a tap on her
shoulder and looked up to see Patricia standing there with a broad
smile on her face.

“I'm so glad you could make it, Stacey.”

“I didn't feel like I had much choice.”

Patricia disregarded the remark and looked
over her shoulder at a woman standing there. Stacey hadn't noticed
her at first but took a closer look.

Of average height and not what you'd call a
typical beauty consultant, she looked like she could use a little
consulting herself. Brown hair hung limply around her cherubic
face. Across her lips was a pale streak of lipstick and the eye
shadow on her plump eyelids had gone out of fashion years, if not
decades, before.

Patricia turned back to Stacey. “This is
Michelle. She's a new beauty consultant. I was hoping you could
help her along today. You know, introduce her around and such.”

Stacey's smile froze on her face as Patricia
sashayed away.

I don't have time for this, she thought. How
can I leave early if I'm saddled with this poor woman? Or was that
Patricia's plan so she could go bother my husband? Fury welled up
at the notion and Stacey tamped it down as Michelle sat next to her
on a gray folding chair.

She looked shyly at Stacey. “Thanks for
helping me out.” She glanced around the room nervously. “This is
all so confusing.”

Feeling pity for her, Stacey tried to be
friendly. “I'll help if I can.” She checked to make sure Patricia
wasn't within earshot, but couldn't see her anywhere. “Actually, I
have to leave early so I don't know how much help I'll be.” She
gave her an apologetic smile.

The woman's face showed faint signs of
desperation. “Oh. That's okay. I. . . I might leave early, too.”
Tears pooled in the woman's eyes.

Guilt at leaving early filled Stacey, but she
pushed it away, knowing she could only do so much.

“I don't know what I'm doing here anyway. It
was all my husband's idea for me to do this.”

Stacey grabbed her purse and pulled out a
tissue.

Michelle dabbed at her nose with the tissue
and gave Stacey a pleading look. “I told him I'm no saleswoman but
he insisted.” Looking over her shoulder with what Stacey could only
classify as a look of fear, she went on. “Then that woman,
Patricia, showed up at our house.”

Stacey was puzzled. Why would this woman be
afraid of Patricia? Yes, Stacey had had a bad feeling about her
too, lately. But that was because of what had happened with Jason.
She forced herself to concentrate on what Michelle was saying.

“. . . had told her to come over and teach me
about this make-up business.”

“Wait. Who told who to come over?” Stacey
asked.

“My husband told Patricia to come over.”

“Why would he do that?” Stacey asked,
thinking that was an odd thing for a husband to do.

“He thought it would be good for me to try
something new.” She looked down at her hands as if she had done
something wrong. “You see, I haven't found the right career.”

“You're not working now then?”

An embarrassed smile tugged at the corners of
her mouth. “No. That's why Gary thought it would be good for me to
do this.” She glanced down at her hands again. “I don't really have
any marketable skills.”

Stacey felt sorry for Michelle and was about
to say something when Michelle muttered under her breath, “If Gary
hadn’t gone to that dumb health club, he never would have met
Patricia in the first place.”

Stacey sat up straighter. “What health club
would that be?”

Michelle's face brightened at Stacey's sudden
interest in her problems. “Valley Health Club.”

Stacey's eyes narrowed. “How long has your
husband been going there?”

“He joined a few months ago.” She began
laughing. “Personally, I think it's a big waste of money. He's
still as chubby as ever.” Her laughter subsided. “Of course it
doesn't help that he's at the school all day, sitting on his big
rear end.”

Surprised, Stacey asked, “Is your husband a
teacher?”

Michelle's eyebrows drew together at Stacey's
urgent tone. “Yeah, he teaches math.”

“What's your last name, Michelle?”

“Tomlison. Why?”

“I was just wondering,” she said. In her
mind's eye she saw a short man with bushy eyebrows and a jagged
scar over his right eye, his finger pointed at her and cocked like
a gun.

Isn't this a small world? She thought. But
I'm sure it's just a coincidence Patricia knows Gary Tomlison.
After all, lots of people go to that health club. But it is a
little strange that Gary would encourage his wife to get into an
endeavor in which she doesn’t seem suited.

Stacey glanced at Michelle. Maybe Gary thinks
being a beauty consultant will help his wife improve her make-up
style, she thought. Or maybe they need the money. I know how that
can be. She said she didn't have any marketable skills. Maybe Gary
thought this was a way for her to earn money while she learned. I
mean, all you have to do to start in this business is pay a little
cash and you're ready to go. You can't exactly get fired.

Maybe I can talk to Gary Tomlison again and
see if he can tell me anything more, she thought. Maybe he knows
something about Deanna Everett's background.

After an hour and a half of sitting through
meetings with Michelle glued to her side, it was time for lunch.
Stacey introduced Michelle to some of the other consultants before
taking her aside.