Suspicions: a novel of suspense

by Christine Kersey

  Amanda looked over his shoulder. “What are they saying now?”

  The agent put the paper down. “Good morning, Mrs. Stone. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She smiled at him wearily. “That's all right. Can I get you some coffee?”

  He held up his mug. “Already have some, thanks.”

  “I'll be upstairs if you need me.” She turned and went up to her bedroom. Unbuttoning her robe, she slowly pulled her arms out of the sleeves, then tugged her nightgown over her head and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Standing under the steaming water, she let it caress her tensed neck muscles. The medicine began to work its magic and she felt calmer, less frantic about Kyle.

  She turned the water off and toweled herself dry, then put on some clothes and sat at her dressing table, slowly pulling the brush through her freshly washed blond hair. Stopping mid-stroke, she stared at her reflection. She could see she had grown new worry lines around her mouth and eyes in the last week.

  She began brushing her hair again and thought about Kyle. Why hadn't the kidnappers released him yet? They had gotten their money the previous day. What were they waiting for? Panic crept in and she had to take several deep breaths to gain her equilibrium. She finished doing her hair and started on her make-up. It wasn't that she cared how she looked, she really could not care less, but she did care how Kyle would see her when he came home. She wanted him to see his mother the way he was used to seeing her; hair done, clothes neat and a face that wasn't pale from worry.

  When she finished her beauty routine, she walked over to her bedroom window, pulled aside the curtains, and looked down on the circus that was her front yard. The reporters seemed to multiply on a daily basis. She couldn't even open her front door without flashbulbs going off in her face or microphones being shoved under her nose. She gazed on the assembled crowd, lost in thought, until she noticed movement in one section of the street. They had spotted her and began angling their cameras toward her window. Dropping the curtain back in place, she wandered out of her room and down the hall to Kyle's room.

  She sat on his bed and picked up his pillow, holding it to her chest and pressing her face into it, breathing in his scent. She remembered how he liked to give her ten hugs and ten kisses every night when she tucked him in. Often he would ask for more and although she would occasionally oblige, most often she would ruffle his hair and tell him it was time to go to sleep

  As she thought about those nights he asked for more hugs and kisses, her heart constricted with the thought that she would give him one hundred kisses and hugs if only he were there to accept them. After a few minutes, she felt dampness on the fabric and realized it was wet from her tears. Setting the pillow back down at the head of the bed, she straightened his covers then went to his desk and lined the books up neatly. Then she went down the hall to the linen closet and pulled out a dust rag. She brought it back to Kyle's room and began wiping every surface.

  She wanted his room to look nice when he came home. Once finished, she looked over her work and felt satisfied that it was acceptable. Dropping the dust rag into his hamper, she saw his pajamas resting inside. Picking them up, she rubbed them against her cheek and as she smelled his sleeping scent, she began to sob.

  An arm went around her shoulder and she looked up to see Mark standing next to her. She was surprised to see he had tears in his eyes too. He pulled her into his arms and wept with her.

  She cried even harder, but this time it was not all for Kyle.

  After standing that way for several minutes, the tears slowed and they sat on Kyle's bed.

  Mark spoke first. “I’m so sorry, Amanda.” He touched her face and gently wiped the tears from her cheek. “I haven’t been there for you at all this last week.” He looked at his lap. “I’ve been such a jerk.”

  She looked at him, surprised at his admission. “It’s been hard for everyone, Mark.”

  Lifting his gaze to meet hers, he gave her a half-smile. “You’re too good for me.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

  Fresh tears filled his eyes. “I’ve been thinking of leaving you.”

  Though surprised by his admission, Amanda found she wasn’t completely shocked. With the way he’d been behaving, she had almost seen it coming. They’d had their share of challenges and she knew he’d been battling his own problems. Though he’d never told her exactly what had been upsetting him, she knew he’d always had issues with her inheritance.

  When they’d been dating, she’d made the mistake of not telling him about her wealth. Not wanting any suitor to be influenced by her financial worth, she’d kept that information a closely held secret until after their wedding. When she’d finally told him she had money, he said he felt betrayed by what he viewed as her lack of trust. Then, when it came time to buy a home, he had insisted they purchase one in a neighborhood where he could afford to buy a house.

  Not wanting to make waves with her new husband so soon after their wedding, and feeling guilty, Amanda had agreed and hadn’t regretted it. She liked where they lived.

  “You said you’ve ‘been thinking’ about leaving me,” Amanda said. “What do you think now? Are you planning on going through with it?” As she said the words, she felt numb, like her spirit was so crushed by the kidnapping of her only child, one more thing couldn’t possibly do any more harm.

  Quickly placing his arms around her he said, “No.”

  Unexpectedly relieved, Amanda felt herself relax slightly. “Then why even bring it up?”

  He shook his head. “I feel like I’ve been living a lie with you. I’ve had these feelings of resentment for so long that I’ve allowed them to fester to the point where I almost ended our marriage.”

  Gazing into his eyes, she said, “What feelings of resentment, Mark? Please, tell me.”

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’ve always thought you didn’t need me. Everyone knows you certainly don’t need my money. You know I always wanted to be the one to support our family.”

  “I know that’s always been important to you and I hope I’ve never done anything to make you feel like I don’t need you.”

  Standing, he walked over to the window and looked into the backyard before turning to face her. “I guess I’ve just been feeling sorry for myself. Like I said, I thought you didn’t need me. You’ve always been so good at everything you do and everything seems to come to you so easily.” He paused. “I just felt . . . inadequate.”

  “But you’re such a great teacher,” Amanda interjected.

  He smiled. “Thank you. And I love to teach.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes and massaged them, then looked back at Amanda. “Maybe I thought I would be happier if my wife depended on me.” Gazing at Amanda, he shook his head. “But this week I found out that money doesn’t really matter. You were willing to give up all you had to . . .” He bit his lip as he tried to get his emotions under control. “To get our son back.”

  Amanda felt tears filling her eyes as the reality of the situation with Kyle slammed back into her mind.

  “I realized,” Mark said, “that you needed me for me. Not for the income I could or could not bring in.”

  Amanda nodded, unable to speak.

  “I've been so wrapped up in my own misery that I haven't been able to see yours.” Tears started welling up in his eyes. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  Walking to his side, she put her arms around his waist. “Of course I forgive you. I’m just glad you know that I need you.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head and held her close.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Formulating a plan, Stacey observed Deanna. Then, stepping out from behind the wall, she walked casually in Deanna's direction, paused at the window, and looked at the jets gliding in and out of the airport. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Deanna, then turned her head in her direction. “Deanna? Is that you?”

  Deanna looked at Stacey with confusion, obviously
not remembering her right away. Stacey held out her hand. “Cathy Hightower. We spoke at the high school last week? About Mark Stone?”

  “Oh, yes. I remember.” She took Stacey's hand for a moment then let go. “What are you doing here?”

  “I'm flying out tonight.” Stacey pointed to the planes in the distance. “I got here last night to finish up some work before I leave.”

  Deanna nodded, believing Stacey's story without question.

  Stacey looked at Deanna brightly. “What about you? What are you doing so far from home?”

  Deanna hesitated. “I. . . don't really want to talk about it right now.”

  “Okay. Maybe we can get together later for a drink.”

  “Sure.” Deanna didn't seem too enthusiastic.

  When Deanna turned away, Stacey's gaze rested on the purse, which was slung over Deanna's shoulder. Carelessly sticking out of a side pocket was Deanna's electronic room card.

  Stacey stared at the card, debating whether she should take it. Maybe there's something in her room that will give me a clue about whether she's involved in Kyle's kidnapping. Something that could mean finding Kyle sooner, she thought. Of course I could call the police, but I've already given them Deanna's name. I'm here and they're not.

  Deciding to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity, Stacey reached over and touched the card with her fingertip. It was pulled out of her hand as Deanna turned toward her.

  “I have something I have to do right now, but why don't we meet at two o'clock in the atrium?” Deanna asked.

  Stacey ignored the erratic beating of her heart as she answered. “That sounds great.” She paused, waiting for Deanna to turn away.

  Deanna looked back at the planes making their endless parade to and from the airport. Stepping away from the window and behind Deanna, Stacey lifted the card then slid it into the pocket of her slacks.

  “I'll see you at two then.”

  Deanna nodded absently and continued staring out the window.

  Hurrying down the hall to the elevators, Stacey pressed the up button, then tapped her foot impatiently as the elevator slowly rumbled up the shaft. After a moment the doors slid open and she stepped in, punching the button for the eighth floor. She tried to calm herself as the elevator seemed to take its time going up the three floors.

  It finally reached its destination and Stacey rushed down the hall to Deanna's room, not knowing how long she would have before Deanna would be back.

  She slid the card in the slot and heard a click, then pulled the door open and paused. There were two double beds, both covered with bedspreads in soothing patterns of sea foam green, aqua blue and dusty rose. A pair of velvety chairs in a matching green color were nestled next to a large round table, a lamp in the center. And a television was ensconced on a large wooden dresser, the remote placed on top.

  She stood in the doorway, uncertain about what she was doing. Then she pictured Kyle's face and knew his life could be in danger. Not to mention her family's well being. She shoved her doubts aside and walked in.

  Drawn to the narrow balcony just outside the sliding glass door, she stepped onto the tiny ledge and looked down at the tables surrounded by trees, flowers, and a stream. The atrium looked different from this level. She could see diners sitting at the various tables and gazed for a moment, briefly daydreaming about bringing Jason here. She was jerked back to reality when she spied Deanna walking toward one of the tables, talking to a woman Stacey had not seen before. She watched as they sat down and continued speaking. The woman had a briefcase with her and she opened it and pulled out some papers. Deanna looked them over then picked up her purse and appeared to be looking for something.

  Stepping back into the room, Stacey wondered who the woman was, then got to work by looking at the papers on the table. Not seeing anything that seemed significant, she went on to the bureau drawers where she found Deanna's clothes and not much else. She looked in the closet and saw blouses and dresses hanging neatly. Deanna's suitcase was sitting on the floor in the back of the closet. Stacey pulled it out, noticing it felt rather light, but she set it on the bed and opened it anyway. Finding it empty, she put it back where she found it.

  Then she went into the bathroom, but saw only make-up and other toiletries scattered on the counter and a damp white towel tossed on the floor. Obviously, Deanna wasn't much of a neatnik. Stacey wondered how Mark felt about that. Picking up a bottle of perfume, she spritzed it in the air, smelling the musky scent.

  Recalling the comment Deanna's roommate had made about things “going well on this end”, Stacey wondered what she had been talking about.

  Walking back into the main part of the room, Stacey glanced around. As she gazed at the blank television screen, something white caught her eye. It was stuck under the corner of the television, just barely showing. Stepping closer, she reached out to pick it up.

  Just as her fingertips touched the corner, she heard a commotion outside the door. Her heart pounded and she jumped back from the dresser.

  She went to the balcony and looked at the table where Deanna and the other woman had been sitting. The woman was there, but Deanna was not.

  Stacey went over to the door and looked out the peephole. It was Deanna, and she seemed to be searching in her purse for something. After a minute, Stacey could see Deanna stomp away angrily. Probably going to the front desk to get another key.

  Quickly stepping back to the television set, Stacey snatched the white corner and pulled free an envelope. She stared at the name and address for a moment, then put it in her purse. Setting the electronic card on the dresser, she counted slowly to ten before opening the door and stepping into the hall. She turned and strode in the opposite direction that Deanna had gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The ringing of her bedside phone awoke Amanda from her dreamless sleep. She stared at it for a second, unsure if she should answer it or if the FBI was having Mark answer it downstairs. Before she could make up her mind, the ringing stopped. She closed her eyes, knowing the escape of sleep would not come again so easily.

  Sitting up on the side of the bed, she looked at her watch. It was almost time for lunch. She had no appetite. She had lost weight during the last week; weight she didn't need to lose.

  Thinking about the conversation she’d had with Mark earlier, she again felt shock that he had been considering leaving her. She’d had no idea. Though she’d been aware he’d become more distant lately, she hadn’t realized the depth of his feelings.

  Grateful he’d told her before he’d gone through with it, she wondered if there was anything she could do to help him.

  Now fully awake, she sighed and stood, pushing her feet into her shoes. She trudged down the stairs, but when she got to the bottom a shot of adrenaline raced through her as she realized something important was going on. No one seemed to notice her standing there.

  She rushed into the living room, where all the activity seemed to be centered. That was when they finally noticed her.

  The FBI agent who had been in the living room earlier spoke first.

  “They've found him.”

  At the news her ears started ringing, she became light-headed, and then things went black. She collapsed on the floor before they could catch her. Waking up on the couch a moment later to see Mark standing over her, a worried look on his face, she felt a small measure of joy to see him standing there, obviously worried.

  Then she remembered what made her faint. “Kyle?” She whispered.

  “They're getting him now,” Mark assured her.

  “Is he okay? Where is he?”

  Mark's expression changed from worry to pure happiness and he couldn't get the grin off of his face. “They say he seems to be all right. Apparently he was dropped off in the middle of nowhere and an old couple found him.” He chuckled to himself. “They hadn't heard about him and didn't recognize him. They didn't call the police until they had fed him.”

  Amanda allowed herself a small smile.
“That's great!” She sat up and felt suddenly dizzy. She had to lie back down and try getting up again more slowly. Sitting on the edge of the couch she said, “When can I see him?”

  “They said they're going to take him to the hospital to have him checked out.”

  Amanda felt a fresh surge of adrenaline and stood up quickly, not feeling dizzy at all. “Let's go.”

  As Amanda walked out the front door, the reporters converged on her as one. “Mrs. Stone! Do you have any word on Kyle?”

  She didn't answer, but it was obvious she was going somewhere, and the expression on her face bespoke good news. They all darted into their cars, getting ready to follow her wherever she went.

  Mark came out next, ignoring the questions thrown at him. He climbed into the car with Amanda and they were off. It looked like a procession as they went down the street. The Stones in front, the FBI and police next and all the reporters trailing behind.

  Mark pulled into the hospital parking lot, drove past the police cars stationed outside, and stopped in the circular drive in the front of the building. Amanda jumped out before he could bring the car to a complete stop. He pulled the key out of the ignition and followed her in.

  The police blocked the reporters from coming too close to the entrance. The reporters didn't like that and shouted all the louder to compensate for the distance.

  Amanda walked swiftly to the counter. The receptionist had been expecting them, and took them to a private room nearby. Amanda paused in the hall outside the room before going in, taking several deep breaths to steady herself, almost afraid this was a dream. Slowly opening the door, she peeked around it to see Kyle sitting up on a table, wearing only his underwear. She gasped at the sight of him, then ran over and pulled him tightly into her arms.

  “Kyle! Kyle!” She couldn't stop herself from weeping.

  “Hi, Mom.” He sounded normal, as if he had just been away on vacation.

  Amanda pulled back and looked at him. He grinned at her and she tried to smile back.