Suspicions (17 page)

“I’ve got to get going now, but I think
you’ll do fine,” Stacey said.

“Thanks for your help,” Michelle said. “Do
you mind if we exchange phone numbers and addresses? I’d like to be
able to get in touch with you if I have a question.”

“Sure.”

They exchanged the information, then Stacey
patted her shoulder. “You’re going to be a great consultant.”

“Thank you. I’m excited about it.”

As Stacey walked out to her car, she hoped
she was right. Michelle had seemed like such a nice person, she
wanted her to succeed.

A short time later, Stacey cruised into the
faculty parking lot at the high school and walked briskly onto the
campus, stopping a boy who was walking by and asking him where Mr.
Tomlison's classroom was.

Following his directions, she found it
without much difficulty. Cracking the door open, she saw him
sitting at his desk while the students worked on something. He
looked up at the sound of the door opening and a spark of
recognition lit his eyes. He immediately came to the door and
stepped outside.

“Do you remember me?” she asked.

“Sure. You're that reporter woman doing the
story on Mark Stone.”

On the name Mark Stone, she noticed his lip
curling ever so slightly. “Yes. That’s me. I was wondering if you
could tell me a little bit more about Deanna.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I noticed she had her wedding set on
her right hand. Is she widowed?”

He nodded, a sad expression on his face.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she is.” He glanced toward his classroom
door. “I don’t really have time to give you the details, but I’m
sure you could find something in the papers about it.”

“Is Everett her married name?”

“Actually, I believe that’s her maiden name.
I seem to recall Mark calling her Deanna Jackson one time. And I
think she said her husband’s name was Martin.”

“Thank you. That will help,” Stacey said.

“I’ve got to get back to class,” he said,
pointing to his classroom.

Nodding, Stacey thanked him again and walked
back to her car.

Going directly home and onto the Internet,
Stacey hoped since she now had the correct name, her search would
be successful. After a short time she found what she wanted. The
obituary showed a Martin Jackson had died by falling off of a
mountain cliff. It also said the only family he left behind was his
wife of less than one year, Deanna Jackson.

Stacey made a note of the date of the
accident, then did a search in the newspaper for that date. Sure
enough, she found an article about Martin Jackson’s death. She
quickly scanned the article, then read it again more slowly. The
gist of the story was Martin and Deanna Jackson had gone hiking and
Martin had fallen off a very dangerous spot on the trail, directly
onto some jagged rocks below. The authorities had investigated the
fall and determined it to be an accident.

Apparently this wasn’t the first time someone
had been killed at this particular location. The article went on to
say that a fence was being installed at the spot to keep it from
happening again.

The most important thing about the article to
Stacey was the date it had occurred. It had been about seven months
before Kyle’s abduction. Could Deanna have pushed her husband off
that trail after she met Mark? Could it have been Mark’s idea to do
it?

Stacey hoped this would be the evidence she
needed to prove Mark had something to do with his son’s abduction.
After all, if the woman Mark was having an affair with was capable
of killing her own husband, what would stop her from kidnapping her
lover’s child to get his wife’s money? The question was, did Mark
know about Deanna’s possible involvement? Or was he the mastermind
of the whole operation?

The possibilities filled her mind as she
stared at the screen. As she added to her notes, she noticed the
answering machine indicated a waiting message. She pressed play and
listened to a whispery voice she didn’t recognize. Stacey gasped as
she listened to the one sentence message:
I know what you’re
doing.

Her heart pounded as she thought about
stopping at the school and talking with Gary. Had someone been
watching her? She played the message again, her eyes closed in
concentration, trying to recognize the voice. It almost sounded
like someone had covered the mouthpiece with a cloth to disguise
his or her voice. It could be a man or a woman. She felt tears
sting the back of her eyes. It could be anyone! How am I going to
clear Jason if I have to worry about someone watching my every
move? She thought.

Knowing she would have no choice but to
proceed normally and just watch her back more carefully, she
decided to check up on Jason at the dealership. If she watched for
someone following her and recognized the driver, she might find out
who had left that message.

As she stepped outside and looked at all the
unfamiliar faces gathered at the Stone's house, she knew the
chances of her recognizing anyone following her were slim. She
climbed into her car anyway and pulled out into the street,
constantly glancing in her rear-view mirror as she left her
neighborhood. No one seemed to be following her. She kept one eye
on the road and the other on her fellow drivers.

When one car seemed to turn every time she
did, she took some wrong turns just to see what would happen. After
two such turns, the other car zoomed away in another direction.
Pulling off to the side of the road, she mentally shook herself.
She couldn't function this way, always worrying about who was
around her. She determined to not let this new fear stop her search
for the true kidnapper.

Pulling back out into traffic, she couldn't
stop herself from looking at every driver near her. Finally, she
arrived at the grocery store parking lot across the street from the
car dealership where Jason worked and pulled into a spot with a
good view of the car lot. There were cars all around her, which
would make it difficult for anyone to spot her.

Glancing around at the unoccupied cars near
her and then at the people coming in and out of the store, she only
saw people who seemed to be grocery shopping. She relaxed slightly
and leaned back against the headrest.

As she watched the dealership, she saw Jason
come into view. He was talking with the other salesmen and kept
glancing around him, as if he thought he was being watched.

Stacey looked around, too. Spotting a car
down the street with a pair of men inside, she stared at them and
wondered if it was possible that they were watching Jason.

Poor guy, she thought. He's being watched by
the FBI on one side and by his wife on the other. But what he
doesn't know certainly won't hurt him and what I don't know could
hurt me. He's been up to something lately and I want to know what
it is.

It must be another slow day, Stacey observed,
watching the salesmen milling about. Then they all turned as a late
model red car pulled onto the lot. But after seeing who was driving
they all walked away as if they knew the driver wasn't interested
in talking to them. Everyone except Jason.

Sitting up straight in her seat now, Stacey
strained to see if it was who she thought it was. The car door
opened and a long slender leg showed beneath it. Stacey felt a slow
burn igniting as the blond head appeared next. The dark feeling she
had been having became much stronger as she watched the scene
across the street.

Jason just stood there as Patricia stepped
out of her car and came toward him. Stacey couldn't see his
expression but she could see him hold out his hand. Patricia took
it and held it longer than necessary. Stacey thought Patricia was
standing much closer to Jason than was appropriate too.

Though the sight of them strolling indoors to
the office made Stacey furious, she couldn't do anything about it.
She couldn't storm over there and confront them. If she did, Jason
would know she had been watching him.

If he was having an affair with that woman,
Stacey didn't want him to know she knew. Not yet anyway.

Doesn’t he care at all about our marriage or
family? Have we grown so far apart that he feels the need to go to
another woman to have his needs met? Her face grew feverish at the
thought.

Maybe she's just there to buy a car, Stacey
thought. Then she reflected on Mark and Amanda. She had thought
their marriage was strong, but it looked like he was cheating on
his wife.

Turning the key in the ignition, she gunned
the engine, but controlled herself enough to leave the parking lot
without drawing anyone's attention.

Late that afternoon, as Stacey was helping
the children with their homework at the dining room table, Jason
came home from the dealership. When he came looking for her she had
to control the urge to strike out at him. Instead, for the
children’s sake, she pretended to be glad to see him.

“Hi, Jason.” She gave him a cursory kiss on
the cheek.

“Is that all I get?” He gave her a wounded
look.

“Mom, I still need help with this,” Robby
said, pointing to his assignment.

“Okay, sweetie.” Though Stacey wanted to
interrogate Jason about Patricia’s visit to the dealership, she
forced herself to remain calm while the children were in the
room.

She bent over to get a closer look at Robby’s
homework and felt Jason’s arms go around her. Revulsion squeezed
her throat making her want to gag as she thought of him with
Patricia. Shrugging her shoulder to signal him to let go, she felt
his arms loosen.

Embarrassed at being rebuffed, his voice
became angry. “When are we eating?”

Without looking up she said, “In a little
while.” Sadness filled her heart as she listened to him leave the
room.

This is all because of Patricia, she thought,
her sadness turning to anger. Then she asked, why am I assuming
Jason is being unfaithful? He admitted to me that Patricia had come
on to him. Would he have done that if they had become lovers? He
told me he loves me.

She felt unsure of herself and wondered if
she was pushing Jason into Patricia's arms with the way she had
been treating him lately. But she didn't really think so.

If he's having an affair with her, I'm not
going to blame myself. I'll put all the blame where it belongs, on
Jason and Patricia.

“I’m done, Mom,” Robby said. “Can I go play
in my room now?”

“Sure, Robby,” Stacey said absently.

A little while later Nikki had completed her
assignment and went to play with her dolls. Stacey took the
opportunity to go into the office to think about how to approach
Jason that evening. She had to talk to him about Patricia. Thinking
about them together was beginning to fill her every thought.

Robby had been successful in sneaking out of
the house on Monday and he knew he could do it again. His dad was
busy watching television and his mom was working in the office
again.

He tiptoed down the hall past Nikki's
bedroom.

“Where are you going, Robby?” She yelled
out.

Holding a finger to his lips, he stepped into
her room. “Quiet, Nikki.”

“Why? Where are you going?” She set the doll
she was playing with onto her bed.

“I just have to get something I left at the
treehouse.” He glanced into the hall behind him. “Don't tell mom
and dad, okay?”

“Okay,” she said cheerfully as she turned
back to her beloved dolls.

Robby walked as quietly as he could to the
front door. He could hear the television and hoped the sound would
cover any noise he made.

As soon as he closed the door he walked
quickly down the driveway, noticing all the people at Kyle's house.
He looked toward his house to avoid making eye contact with anyone
and hurried down the street. Once he reached the corner he took off
at a run.

When he reached Mr. Gowen's orchard he
stopped to catch his breath, then walked toward the old barn, his
heart beating faster with each step. When he was within a hundred
feet of the barn, he paused, reconsidering his decision to visit
the barn. Then he thought about Kyle and determination overcame his
reluctance.

Mr. Gowen's house wasn't too far beyond the
barn and Robby didn't want to be caught sneaking around. He dashed
from tree to tree, staying hidden until he was about ten feet from
the old building.

Slowly glancing around, he felt like a spy in
one of the pretend games he and Kyle liked to play. Taking a deep
breath, he raced across the open space and reached the large
doors.

He put his ear to the wooden entrance and
listened intently for any noise inside. Hearing nothing, he pushed
on the door. It wouldn't move. He pushed harder. It still wouldn't
budge.

That's strange, he thought. The day Mr. Gowen
invited us into the barn, it had been unlocked.

Robby wandered around the side of the large
building, looking for another way to get in. Way up high, above the
roofline, was a window. He studied the small opening trying to
figure out a way to get in.

If I could somehow get onto that roof ledge,
I could climb through the window, he thought.

He backed away into the orchard to get a look
from a different angle. It was then he noticed a tree branch
hanging down, just touching the roof. The thought of climbing that
tree, clambering out onto the branch and dropping onto the roof
made him shudder.

Maybe I should just forget the whole thing,
he thought. There's probably nothing to find anyway.

Then he thought he heard a noise. A crying
noise. He listened raptly. There! He had heard a noise. It spurred
him on.