Suspicions (15 page)

Patricia perked up at the information. “So,
how often would you and Jason be here working out?”

A small smirk turned up one side of Stacey's
mouth. “Jason doesn't really want to join, so I'd be the only one
who ever came here.”

Patricia's eyes looked downward. “Oh.”

Stacey felt a small triumph in causing such
obvious disappointment. Feeling very cheerful all of a sudden, she
said, “Gotta go. See you later.” She turned and headed back to the
women's locker room.

She noticed the entrance to the men's locker
room was just across from the women's, but getting in there without
notice would take great timing.

Peeking back through the door to see how many
people were using the workout area, she saw that besides Patricia,
there were only two. Stacey watched as Patricia got up and walked
to the adjoining room. The other two people had earbuds on and
didn't seem to be paying attention to anyone but themselves.

Here goes nothing, Stacey thought, as she
slipped back out into the workout area and plunged through the door
to the men's locker room. Taking a quick look around, she didn't
see anyone, so she walked down the rows of lockers until she found
the one marked 29C.

Pulling the key out of her pocket, she put it
in the lock. It turned easily. She opened the door and looked
inside. The locker contained a shoebox. She hesitated as she looked
at it, almost afraid to find out what was inside. If it was
nothing, Stacey would have to drop Mark as a suspect and more
seriously consider whether Jason might be involved in Kyle's
abduction.

She thought about Mark and what she knew
about him. He seemed to be having an affair, he had signed a
pre-nuptial agreement with Amanda that would assure he didn't
receive any of her money if they divorced, he didn't have an alibi
for the time Kyle had called the day before, his time was
unaccounted for at the time of the kidnapping. And he was pushing
Amanda to liquidate her assets so they could pay off the kidnapper.
To the casual observer it sounded like he had motive and
opportunity to kidnap his own son.

She glanced around, then grabbed the shoebox
and set it on the bench next to her. She lifted the lid. Lying
harmlessly within was an envelope. She picked it up, opened it and
pulled out the papers that were inside. She hadn't seen divorce
papers before but these certainly looked genuine. The only thing
missing from the papers was Amanda's signature.

I wonder how long Mark's had these? Is Amanda
totally clueless? I know she knows there's something wrong with
Mark. She told me as much the other day. And when was Mark planning
on presenting these papers to Amanda? What's the hold up? Is he
waiting to receive the ransom?

With relief, she thought this new piece of
information put the weight of guilt more heavily on Mark than on
Jason.

When she heard male voices she put everything
back in the box the way she had found it, shoved the box back in
the locker and silently closed the door before tiptoeing to the end
of the row. The men's voices seemed to be coming from the other
side of the locker room.

She hesitated at the door to the workout
area, but slowly opened it and glanced around. Patricia had not
returned and only one person was now in the room. Pulling the door
open only far enough to squeeze through, Stacey stepped out into
the room and strolled over to the door to the women's locker
room.

“Stacey!”

Guilt suffused her as she turned to face
Patricia, who had appeared out of nowhere.

Patricia advanced closer to Stacey. “What
were you doing in the men's locker room?”

Stacey looked over her shoulder at the door
she had just come through, then turned back to Patricia with a
puzzled look on her face. “That was the men's room?” She bit her
lip in pretended chagrin. “I didn't realize that. How embarrassing.
I'm glad I didn't walk in on anyone taking a shower.”

Patricia looked unconvinced. “The women's
locker room is over there.” She pointed to the door Stacey had been
heading toward.

“Thanks.” They stood there awkwardly for a
minute. “Well, I'd better be going.”

“Yeah, that housework's waiting.”

Anger flared in Stacey but she turned and
started for the door.

Once home, Stacey headed to the office and
reviewed her notes, adding the new information about the divorce
papers. Feeling bad for Amanda and all that she was going through,
Stacey hoped what she was doing would somehow resolve everything
and hasten Kyle’s return.

She leaned back against the chair and thought
about Jason and how he was handling the stress of the situation.
And how it was affecting their marriage. Things had been tense
between them and they had been fighting a lot more too. All of her
problems seemed to press down on her shoulders and she wasn't sure
how much more she could take.

I wonder if Amanda is back yet, and more
importantly, where did she go? After that call from Kyle I would
have expected her to be glued to the phone, Stacey thought.

As she opened her front door to get the mail
and to see if Amanda's car was back in the driveway, she saw a
package on her front porch. A package wrapped in shiny silver foil
and tied with a large silver bow. She picked it up, brought it into
the family room and set it on the table.

She wondered who it was from. It almost
looked like a wedding gift, but her anniversary wasn't for several
more days. Before she had a chance to open it, the phone rang. It
was her sister, Megan.

“I'm glad I finally got a hold of you. You
sounded upset when you left the message. What's going on?”

“Oh, Megan. Things are a mess here.” She felt
safe talking to her sister and had to take a deep breath to keep
from crying.

“What's going on?” Megan's voice showed
concern.

“Have you heard about a little boy down here
who's been kidnapped for ransom?”

“It's been in the news,” she answered
warily.

With no easy way to put it, Stacey said it
straight out. “Jason's a suspect.”

“What?!”

Stacey couldn't keep from crying. “I feel
somewhat responsible too.”

“What happened?”

Stacey relayed the events of the last few
days, leaving out nothing. Megan was silent for a minute, then
said, “I'm coming down there.”

Stacey didn't want her sister to get involved
in the mess. “No. I don't want you to do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I just need your objective opinion. Do
you think Jason could have anything to do with this?”

“I really couldn't say for sure. How could I?
But I can't believe Jason would have anything to do with it.”

“That's what I think.” Stacey was relieved
her sister agreed with her.

“So you think the boy's father is
involved?”

“That's what it seems like. He has the
motive. I mean, he's got this girlfriend he's been spending a lot
of money on and if he divorces Amanda he gets zip. And he doesn't
seem too worried about his son but keeps pressuring Amanda to
liquidate her money,” Stacey said.

Stacey could picture her sister on the other
end of the phone, her finger touching her bottom lip, thinking
things through. Megan was a practical woman and didn't usually jump
to conclusions, which was one reason Stacey valued her opinion so
highly.

“That does sound fishy. But is there anyone
else that could have done it?” Megan asked.

“Mark seems to be the one with the most to
gain from this.”

“I hate to say this, Stacey, but you have to
at least consider Jason. I mean, the FBI has to have a good reason
for suspecting him.”

Stacey shook her head vigorously. “No, Megan!
There's no way Jason could have done this. I just can't believe
it.”

“Okay. I just had to bring it up.”

“I know. Thanks for your help.”

“If you want me to come, just let me know and
I'll be on the next flight there.”

“You're the best and I love you.”

“I love you, too. Let me know what
happens.”

“I will, bye.”

After she hung up the phone, Stacey thought
about her sister and all they had been through as children. Their
parents' marriage had pretty much ended by the time Stacey was in
high school and her father had spent time in jail. Their mother
struggled to make ends meet, working two jobs, constantly
exhausted. Stacey and Megan were always hiding the fact that their
father was in jail. They just told their friends he had moved away.
That seemed bad enough, but the truth was worse. Even though they
loved him, they were ashamed of him.

Stacey was glad she and her sister were close
as adults. She didn't have any other close girl friends besides
Amanda, and lately that wasn't going very well. After all, good
friends didn't spy on each other. Stacey didn't enjoy snooping on
her friend's husband, in fact she felt terribly ashamed, but if
that's what it took to clear her own husband then she was willing
to do it.

Reaching for the package that had been on her
front porch, and thinking it was a rather odd thing to find there,
she pulled off the shiny paper and saw it was a box with several
tiny holes poked in it. Her brow furrowed as she cautiously undid
the tape holding the lid on.

She heard a blood-curdling scream, then
realized it was coming from her. Inside the beautifully wrapped
package were half a dozen shiny black spiders with long spindly
legs. Instantly, she knew they were poisonous black widows.
Slamming the lid back on, she shuddered violently, then pressed her
hands to her mouth as she stared at the box, frantically trying to
figure out how to dispose of the horrible creatures.

Then a more pressing thought took over. Who
sent them? She debated whether to call the police but decided
against it. What would they do? They already suspected her husband
of kidnapping. They'd probably accuse her of sending the spiders to
herself.

Then she realized that she must be getting
closer to the truth than she had thought.

Did Deanna or Mark send these disgusting
things? She thought. It would certainly be easy for Mark to have
Deanna drop it off without anyone noticing.

After setting a heavy book on the lid she
went over to the living room window and saw that, yes, Mark's car
was there, as it had been all morning.

She wanted to get rid of the spiders before
Jason got home. He knew she was terrified of spiders and she didn't
want to tell him what she had been up to.

Pulling on her thickest gloves, she brought
the box into the bathroom and opened the toilet lid. Cautiously
lifting the lid to the box, she almost gagged at the sight of the
black widows; their legs stretching like hands reaching out from a
grave. As she turned the box over, two spilled onto the floor. She
jumped back and pressed her back against the wall, never taking her
eyes off the creatures. There were several spiders swimming around
the toilet bowl and she was afraid they would somehow climb out
before she could get the other two.

Standing on her tiptoes, she reached out
toward the flushing lever, almost losing her balance, but regained
it and quickly pressed the handle. She watched them swirl down to a
place where she would never see them again. Then she bit her lip as
she tried to figure out how to get the two escapees into the toilet
without touching them. She was afraid if she left the bathroom to
get a cup or something, they would scurry out of the bathroom and
hide somewhere she wouldn't be able to find them.

Even though that was a remote possibility,
she hesitated nevertheless, then turned and dashed to the kitchen,
grabbed a clear plastic cup and a large lid and ran back to the
bathroom. Both spiders were still there, seemingly watching her.
She bent to put the cup next to them on the floor. The shrill
ringing of the phone made her flinch and she nearly lost her
balance again. The phone continued ringing. She wanted to dispose
of the spiders before she did anything else, so she let the machine
get the call.

Bending down again, she set the cup next to
the spiders. They didn't go in it. She moved it closer to them and
shuddered as the cup bumped against one of them. It slowly moved
into the cup. She bumped the cup against the other spider and it,
too, crawled in. She waited as the creatures crept to the far end
of the cup. Covering the opening with the lid, she carefully tipped
it over, dumping the spiders into the water. She shuddered once
more as she flushed them down the toilet.

Pulling off her gloves, she almost threw them
in the trash, until she remembered how much they cost. She put them
away instead. As she threw the empty box into the trash she felt
resolve surge through her. She wouldn't let a box of creepy spiders
stop her from finding out the truth.

I'll just have to be more careful about
opening up strange packages, she thought, shuddering.

Realizing the reporters might have seen who
had put them on her porch, Stacey decided to ask them. Pulling open
her front door, she walked slowly onto her driveway. Some of the
reporters looked her way as she walked toward them, their interest
suddenly piqued.

Stacey knew she would have to be careful in
how she handled them; she didn't want them to become too curious.
She didn't have to worry about their willingness to talk to her
though. The other reporters, who had been milling about, saw
something was going on and they gathered around Stacey.

She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if
anyone saw someone dropping a package off at my house a little
while ago?” She looked at them expectantly. The reporters looked at
each other and shook their heads. One shouted out, “Can you tell us
anything new about Kyle Stone?”

Stacey shook her head, knowing they weren't
going to be able to help her after all. She muttered, “Sorry,” and
went back into her house.