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.
Chapter Fourteen
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 t
o 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.
Stacey turned it over, looking for some indication of who sent it. The postmark showed it was local. She ripped it open and pulled out the single page of newsprint.
It was a recent article from a national paper. As she read the title she gasped.
“Neighbor Most Often to Blame in Abduction-Murders of Kids
Abducted and murdered children are usually attacked
by someone from their own neighborhood, according
to a national study released Tuesday. One of the major
findings: Police should carefully canvass the area
surrounding an abduction.”
The article went on to cite statistics. Stacey was astounded. Was someone trying to tell her something? Did someone actually believe Jason was involved? And if someone did, who was it and why were they sending her the news clipping?
No! Her mind shouted. It can't be true. Not Jason.
The determination to find out who was really responsible surged through her. Not only for Kyle's sake, but to save Jason's good name.
Looking at her watch, she decided to get the keys copied so she could take advantage if another opportunity to inspect Mark's files presented itself. Stacey left the house and drove to the locksmith, driving directly home when that was finished. She knew she had to get Mark's keys back onto his dresser before he missed them.
As she pulled into her driveway she looked across the street and saw that Mark's car was no longer there.
He must have gone out again, she thought. Good.
She immediately headed across the street to the Stone's house. As she approached the door she noticed the reporters becoming more insistent.
One of them almost knocked her over in his haste to ask her a question. “What are you doing here?”
She looked at him with annoyance. “I'm Amanda's friend,” she said, not missing the irony. Then she shoved by him and knocked on the door.
Agent Morrison answered and let her in. “Mrs. Stone is up in her bedroom.”
“Thank you.” Stacey walked up the stairs as if Amanda had been expecting her. She knocked on the master bedroom door and a voice told her to come in.
Amanda was sitting at her dressing table putting on some make-up. “Hi, Stacey.”
“I left when Mark got here,” Stacey said.
“I guessed as much.” Amanda said, continuing to apply her mascara.
“Did he have anything new to report?” Stacey asked as she eyed the crystal bowl on the dresser.
“Actually, they did find a fingerprint on the ransom note. But it turns out it belongs to Kyle.”
Stacey's eyebrows went up. “Really? How did they know it was his?”
“Remember when the school had that stranger danger program?” Amanda paused and watched in the mirror as Stacey nodded. “Like the good parents we are, we had his fingerprints taken.”
Stacey remembered the program and had made sure her children were fingerprinted too. Who would have thought those prints would have actually been needed?
Amanda set the mascara down and began smoothing on her lipstick.
“Are you going out?” Stacey asked.
“Mark promised he would stay here for a while so I could get some fresh air. He said he'd be back in an hour or two.”
Checking the time, Stacey saw it was twelve-thirty. Maybe she could get a look at some more of the files before he got back. “Have you had lunch yet, Amanda?”
She looked at Stacey in the reflection of the mirror. “No, but I'm not really hungry.”
Biting her lip, Stacey tried to think of a way to get into the office without Amanda noticing. “You really should eat something. You need to keep up your strength.”
Amanda put the lid back on the lipstick and began brushing her long blond hair. “If I'm not hungry I can't really force myself to eat without getting sick.”
“Oh.” Stacey thought for a minute. “What are you going to do while you're waiting for Mark?”
Amanda's composure started to slip. “Oh, I don't know. Maybe sit in Kyle's room and cry some more.”
Listening to this, Stacey felt reprehensible. Here she was trying to manipulate her friend so she could sneak into Mark's office and Amanda was barely holding herself together. She had some compassion though. She went over to Amanda and knelt next to her. “He'll come home soon, Amanda. You'll see.”
The tears were flowing freely now. “When?” she cried. “When will I be able to hold my boy in my arms again?” Hiccups punctuated her words. “I go into his room and bury my head in his pillow just to smell his sweet scent. I miss him . . . so . . . much.”
Stacey stroked her hair. “I know. I know,” she murmured.
Amanda's tears of sadness changed to tears of anger. “How could you possibly know? Your son is safe. You know exactly where he is. I have no idea where my son is. And to top it all off, a car your husband once owned might be involved.” She was breathing heavily.
Stacey suddenly felt dizzy to hear the words she had only thought about, spoken out loud. Yet she knew if she wanted to clear her husband's name she would have to stay in Amanda's good graces long enough to find out more about Mark. She didn't respond to Amanda's accusations. Instead she got up and sat on the bed, putting her face in her hands, a real feeling of sorrow overcoming her.
Amanda was contrite. “I'm sorry, Stacey. I didn't mean that. I'm sure Jason has nothing to do with Kyle's abduction.”
Stacey lifted her head and smiled sadly. “I know you didn't mean it that way. I just can't bear the thought of Jason doing this. I know he's not responsible. He can't be.”
“You know, Stacey, the FBI people told me I probably shouldn't talk to you about this until they know more. But I don't really have anyone else and I have to talk to somebody.”
“What about Mark?”
Amanda walked over to her dressing table and stared at the things arranged there. “He just doesn't understand. I don't know what's wrong with him.”
As Stacey listened to Amanda's words, she almost felt like her comments were a confirmation of her own questions regarding Mark's innocence. The sooner she discovered who took Kyle, the sooner this nightmare would be over for all of them.
She walked over to Amanda and took her by the hand. “Come on. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
When they entered the kitchen they found Agent Morrison still at his post. Someone had apparently brought him lunch: He was eating a taco and sipping a large cup of soda. When they came in he took his food into the dining room to finish it.
Sitting Amanda down at the table, Stacey prepared a sandwich for her. Amanda dutifully ate it, then said she wanted to lie down for a while.
Stacey followed Amanda as she trudged up the stairs and into her bedroom, then when Amanda bent over to take off her socks and shoes Stacey quickly set the keys in the crystal bowl, careful not to let them clink as they landed on the bottom.
After Amanda was firmly tucked in bed Stacey went back downstairs toward the office for the third time that day. She glanced at her watch. It was now one o'clock. That meant she had a little while before Mark got home. She hoped.
As she entered the office Stacey headed directly to the file cabinet. Unlocking the drawer, she started her search again. Pulling out the file marked Credit Cards, she looked at the latest statement and saw the balance owed was just over twelve thousand dollars. There were five charges made to a lingerie store and there were also charges made to several different restaurants.
She looked at the bills for the last year and saw the charges to this particular lingerie store dated back six months. She also noticed the balance kept getting higher. Six months ago it was fifteen hundred dollars. The charges for the intervening months were for plane tickets and hotel rooms in places such as Hawaii and Ca
ncun.
Stacey tried to remember if the Stone's had done much traveling lately and didn't recall any trips Amanda had taken. However, she did recall Amanda telling her Mark had had to fly back East to visit his mother because she had been ill.
Putting the file back in the drawer, she checked the time and saw it was now one-fifteen. She decided to give herself another ten minutes before she got out of there. She didn't know how long Amanda would stay asleep or when Mark would be back.
Not finding anything of interest in the rest of that drawer, she went on to the next one. The file marked Loan Papers caught her eye and she quickly pulled it out. It was the loan information for Mark’s SUV. He’d bought it last year. Stacey did some quick calculations and guessed he still owed about twenty thousand dollars.
Then she noticed another envelope in the file. She opened it and discovered loan papers for a car that had been purchased only six months earlier. A car she had never seen in the Stone's driveway. He owed about fifteen thousand dollars on that one.
Stacey was noticing a definite pattern. Six months ago something had changed for Mark and it was rather obvious another woman was in the picture. But what did this have to do with Kyle's abduction? She knew she would have to keep looking, maybe talk to Mark's colleagues.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was now almost one-thirty. She had been in the office for thirty minutes. Quickly gathering up the paperwork, she put it back the way she had found it.
She was about to close the drawer when another file caught her eye. Personal Papers was written across the top. She pulled the file out and spread it on the floor.
Only one thing looked interesting enough to investigate further. It was a large envelope with the words pre-nup written across it. Yanking the papers out, she rapidly scanned the writing. Most of the legal terms were beyond her understanding but one concept seemed to jump out: If Mark Stone divorced Amanda, he would have no claim on her inheritance money.
If that’s not a motive I don’t know what is, she thought, a relieved smile turning up the corners of her lips. And if Kyle is with Mark, I know he’ll be okay.
Suspicions: a novel of suspense Page 8
