Suspicions (7 page)

Could Jason be involved? She wondered. She
shook her head and said out loud, “Let’s just look at this
rationally, Stacey.” He told me he sold that car to the dealership
where he works. Someone probably bought it and this is all just a
horrible coincidence.

Or, she thought, as a cold finger of fear
danced up her spine, he could have stored it on the back lot. He
had seemed reluctant to get rid of that car. I had to practically
threaten him to even get him to agree we didn't need it anymore.
And I don't recall ever seeing any money from the sale of that old
car.

The shrill ring of the phone startled her.
Reversing direction, she went to the kitchen and picked up the
phone, answering tentatively. “Hello?”

“Stacey? Is that you?”

“Yes, who is this?”

The caller laughed. “It's me, silly.
Patricia.”

Stacey didn't want to deal with her director
right now. “What do you need? I'm kind of busy.”

“You're always busy, Stacey,” she said with a
tone Stacey couldn't quite put her finger on. “The happy little
homemaker, always taking care of her husband and children.”

Jealousy, Stacey thought, and almost laughed
out loud. She's jealous of me. Patricia Summers, with her perfect
hair and make-up and her cocky attitude. The irony was too much for
her and the tears started to fall.

“Stacey, are you there?” Patricia asked.

Stacey didn't want her to know she was
crying. She faked a cough and took a deep breath. “Just a minute,
Patricia.” And after a moment, “Sorry about that, a frog in my
throat or something. Now, what was it you wanted?”

“I have some products for you. Can I come by
this evening and drop them off?”

With an incredible amount of self-will,
Stacey forced her brain to think about business. “I have an early
party tonight, but I should be home by nine o'clock. Why don't you
come by then?”

“I'll be there,” Patricia sang out. “Oh, and
Stacey? I want to take you out to lunch today. Does that work for
you?”

“Actually, Patricia, today's not good for me.
Let's do it some other time, okay?”

Silence on the other end. Then, “I really
need to talk to you.”

With reluctance, Stacey agreed to meet
Patricia at a nearby restaurant at one o'clock. She knew it was
probably best to keep up a normal front.

Stacey hung up the phone and forced herself
to think about the Beautiful You cosmetics party she had booked for
that night.

I am definitely not in the mood to have a
party tonight. Maybe I can get out of it, she thought as she picked
up the phone and called the woman who was scheduled to host the
party.

“Hi, Annette. This is Stacey Hunter.”

“Oh, Stacey. Hi. I'm sure looking forward to
the party tonight. Eight people are definitely going to be there
and they're all big on makeup so it should be a good one.”

Knowing she was committed, Stacey tried to be
enthusiastic. “Great! I'll see you then.”

She hung up the phone, resigned to going. She
consoled herself with the thought that it would probably be a big
moneymaker and they could certainly use the money. Unless, she
thought, a grim laugh bubbling out of her throat, Jason just
arranged for us to receive one million dollars.

She needed to talk this over with someone she
could trust and immediately thought of her sister, Megan, who lived
up in Washington State. She was three years younger than Stacey but
they had been close growing up; having a father in jail gave them a
shameful bond.

After all the years of their mother
pressuring him to provide more and more material possessions for
their family, her father had finally gone too far, stealing from
others until he had been caught. He had ended up in jail and
Stacey’s mother had left him, taking Stacey and Megan with her.

As Stacey thought about her father, she
remembered how shocked she had been when she had learned he’d
committed a crime - a crime that put him in jail. She’d had no idea
he’d been doing anything wrong. He had seemed perfectly normal. She
wondered if her mother had had a clue about what he was doing.

I guess sometimes even those we’re close to
can be doing things we don’t know about, Stacey thought. Is that
what’s happening here? Could Jason be involved and I’m just
clueless?

The thought made her sick. Wondering how she
could find out for sure, she considered simply calling Jason and
asking him. Then she thought about his possible reaction.

If he’s not involved, he’ll be insulted I
would even think such a thing. He would be furious at me. And if he
is involved, he’s certainly not going to tell me. I’m just going to
have to figure it out for myself.

Finally, Stacey tried to call her sister. Not
surprised to find no one home, Stacey left a message. Then, as a
new worry presented itself, she began pacing.

What will I do if the police want to talk to
Robby? What if Robby tells them about the car and they discover
Jason once had one just like it? Will they consider him a suspect?
What will that do to our lives?

But what about Kyle? Her thoughts continued.
Getting him back is the most important thing. Right?

She jumped at the sound of knocking on the
front door. She didn't feel up to talking to anyone and tiptoed to
the door. Looking out the peephole, she saw two police officers
standing on her front porch. Her heart banged against her ribs.

Do they already know about Jason's car?

She stood there, not even breathing. They
knocked again and still she held her breath. After a moment they
walked back down her driveway. Stacey exhaled loudly as she
continued watching through the peephole. The officers had stopped
and were talking to her neighbor, Margie, who was waiting on the
sidewalk in front of Stacey's house. She bristled with anger as she
watched Margie gesture toward Stacey's house while she spoke with
the police. The officers nodded then followed Margie down the
sidewalk.

What is she up to now? Stacey felt
perspiration forming under her arms as she contemplated what was
happening. She felt helpless and vulnerable, not knowing how much
the police knew.

And seeing them talk to Margie only made
things worse. She thought about the trouble she'd had with her
neighbor and was engulfed with anger. Margie often complained about
Robby and Nikki. “They keep looking in my backyard,” or “They're
throwing rocks over the fence.” The complaints were endless. And
Margie had two children of her own. Stacey thought she would have
some understanding of the ways kids behave, but apparently her
children never did those things. But what really made Stacey angry
was the time Margie had accused her of looking through Margie's
windows.

Margie had come knocking on Stacey's door one
afternoon to complain about another petty offense Stacey's children
had allegedly committed. When Stacey began to defend her children,
Margie had turned her accusations on Stacey.

Margie's hands had been on her wide hips as
she spoke. “We like our privacy and you look in our windows.”

Stacey had been incredulous. “What are you
talking about?”

“When we got new blinds no one noticed, but
you came over and started talking about them.”

That was when Stacey knew the woman was truly
disturbed. She just didn't think in a rational, normal way. It was
then that Stacey knew it was best to keep her distance from Margie.
And, since then, she hadn't spoken to her more than was necessary
to be civil.

Stacey thought about Amanda and what she must
be feeling today. Dare I call her to see if there's any news? What
if she can tell by my voice that something's wrong? Stacey bit her
lip in consternation, undecided about what to do. Finally she
picked up the phone and called her neighbor.

“Hello?” A subdued voice answered.

Stacey recognized Amanda's voice at once.
“I'm sorry, Amanda. It's just me, Stacey.”

“Oh. Hi.”

Stacey wondered if Amanda's phone calls were
being recorded. I'd better be careful how I sound, she thought. “I
just wanted to call and see how you're doing. Have you heard
anything?”

“I appreciate your call. But no, we haven't
heard anything from them.”

Stacey chewed on her bottom lip, trying to
think of what to say, knowing every utterance might be recorded.
“I, uh, is there anything I can do to help you? Do you want me to
come over?” She desperately hoped the answer would be no.

“If you want to. But I'm okay right now.”

Stacey could hear voices in the background.
“Do you have a lot of people over there now?” She could hear her
own voice becoming shaky as she recalled her doubts about Jason's
innocence and she wanted to get off the phone as soon as
possible.

Amanda laughed humorlessly. “Yes, I have a
houseful.”

“Um, maybe I can stop by later then? When
it's not so crowded?”

“Okay. Whatever works for you. Thanks,
Stacey.”

Stacey hung up the phone with relief. She
knew if they had talked much longer she would have burst into sobs
from the stress of her uncertainties about Jason. Wandering over to
the couch, Stacey sat down heavily and tried to control the shaking
in her hands.

The sound of subdued chatter greeted Stacey
as she entered the upscale restaurant. This was where Patricia
always took Stacey when they had one of their little lunch dates.
It was usually a treat for Stacey to go out to eat, but today she
was barely holding herself together. She looked around the room and
saw Patricia waving her over to a table for two.

Walking over to the table in the corner,
Stacey realized that, really, Patricia was just doing her job. The
directors were encouraged to take their beauty consultants out to
lunch occasionally to keep up communication and morale. At first
Stacey had truly enjoyed these outings, but lately Patricia had
begun to get on Stacey's nerves. Something about her really
bothered Stacey. Not sure what it was, she tried to ignore the
feeling and be friendly.

Stacey slid into the chair and forced a smile
on her lips in response to Patricia's greeting.

“Are you feeling all right, Stacey?” Patricia
asked, seeming concerned. She reached across the table and touched
Stacey's hand.

The comment warned Stacey to shape up before
more questions were asked. Sitting up straighter, she put a more
genuine smile on her face. “Of course. Why?”

Patricia pulled her hand back to her side of
the table. “You just look a little tired or something.”

“No. I'm fine. What was it you needed to talk
to me about?”

“I wanted to tell you about some new items
before your party tonight.” Patricia beamed.

Stacey felt a spark of irritation. “Couldn't
we have done that over the phone? Today really wasn't a good
day.”

Patricia's smile was patronizing. “We haven't
done one of these little lunches in a while and I had to give you a
good excuse to get out of that house, didn't I?”

Stacey sighed inwardly, deciding to enjoy the
lunch even if she didn't particularly enjoy the company. “I suppose
you brought the products with you, then?”

“Actually, no.” Patricia lifted one eyebrow.
“I didn't want to lug them here, then into your car. I'll still
come by your house tonight.”

“Okay, whatever,” Stacey said, trying to hide
her irritation. “How are things with you, Patricia?” Stacey wanted
to keep the conversation away from herself and her problems.

Patricia seemed surprised by Stacey's
interest and hesitated before answering. “Things are okay, I
suppose.” Her eyes began to narrow. “Why do you ask?”

Was it such an unexpected question? Stacey
thought. “I was just wondering how you and your husband are.”
Stacey smiled tentatively.

Patricia jerked her head back as if she'd
been struck and her mouth fell open. “Haven't you heard? I thought
everyone knew.”

Stacey's heart began to pound, knowing she
must have just made an incredible faux pas. “I'm so sorry,
Patricia. I haven't heard anything.”

Ignoring Stacey's discomfort, Patricia busied
herself by readjusting the napkin in her lap. “No matter. It's all
in the past.”

Her interest was now piqued, but Stacey said
nothing more on the matter, instead waiting for Patricia to take
the lead.

“So,” Patricia began brightly, “How are
things in the Hunter household? All is well, I assume?”

The rapid switch in conversation caught
Stacey off guard and she felt her face pale. Trying to recover, she
lifted her water glass and took a small sip. Then, picking up the
menu she asked, “What are you getting?” When she looked at Patricia
to see how she would react to the avoided question she was
surprised at the expression on her face. She almost looked
triumphant. No, Stacey thought, that can't be right. Why would she
be pleased that things aren't going well at my house? Why would she
care? It sounds like she has her own problems to deal with.

The look on Patricia's face left as quickly
as it had arrived and Stacey doubted what she had seen. I must have
misread her face, that's all, she thought.

“I'm just having a salad today,” Patricia
said, looking directly at Stacey.

“What?” Stacey had been distracted by her
thoughts and forgotten she'd asked.

“You asked what I was having. I'm having a
salad.” Patricia sipped her water and motioned for the waiter to
come over.

As Patricia ordered, Stacey watched her face,
trying to remember exactly what she thought she had seen.

“And you, ma'am?”

Stacey realized the waiter was speaking to
her. “I'll have the same,” she said and handed him the menu.

Once the meal arrived they spent the rest of
the time talking business. Stacey was relieved when it was time to
leave. She found she was exhausted. Trying to put up a cheerful
façade wiped her out.