Suspicions (22 page)

As she waited for someone to answer the door,
Stacey considered how Michelle would take the news of her husband’s
death and involvement in a crime - assuming Stacey was correct. She
could imagine how she would feel, having just gone through her own
suspicion of Jason.

A moment later Michelle Tomlison answered the
door. “Hi, Stacey. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Stacey smiled. “Did you end up staying for
the whole Beautiful You meeting?”

“Yeah. Thanks for your help, by the way.”

“No problem.” Stacey paused. “How are
you?”

“Pretty awful if you really want to
know.”

“What's going on?” Stacey asked, fairly
certain she knew the answer.

As she followed Michelle into the living
room, Stacey could see all was not right in this house. Things were
a mess. Some of the couch cushions were on the floor and one was
even torn open, revealing the stuffing inside. On the coffee table
a glass lay on its side, an amber colored liquid spread out next to
it.

“What happened, Michelle?” Stacey asked.

Her mouth quivered. “That's what I'd like to
know. I spent the morning at my mother's house and when I came home
a little while ago this is what I found.” She swept her arm around
the room.

“Where's your husband?” She asked, even
though she was quite sure he was the dead man.

“I can't find him. He said he was going to
the mall this morning but I expected him back by now.”

Stacey's heart beat faster as she received
this further confirmation Gary was involved in the kidnapping.
“What was he doing at the mall?”

Michelle frowned at the question. “He said he
had to run an errand for a friend. It was kind of strange,
actually.”

“What was so strange about that?”

“He usually hates going to the mall, but this
morning he seemed like he could hardly wait to get there.”

Stacey bit the inside of her lip, trying to
keep herself from shouting out the truth. “Did he say who the
friend was?”

Her eyes moistened with tears. “He said it
was none of my business.”

She figured this “friend” was probably
involved with the kidnapping too. “Well, I was just in the
neighborhood and I wanted to see how the meeting went.”

“Thanks for thinking of me. But as you can
see, I have some work to do here.”

“Aren’t you going to call the police?” Stacey
asked, hoping they could find fingerprints of Gary’s
accomplice.

“Yeah, I guess I should. It doesn’t seem like
anything’s been taken, but you never know.”

“Do you want me to stay until they come?”

“No. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Stacey left a moment later.

After she left Michelle, Stacey ran several
errands, ending at the grocery store to buy some milk. Heading
home, she tried to control the despair and hopelessness that Kyle's
abduction wouldn't be solved. It seemed like all she did was run
into dead ends, and when she thought she had a real piece of
evidence, the police didn't even believe her.

Even though she felt discouraged, her heart
lifted a little at the thought that the next day, when she went to
San Francisco, she might be able to find something helpful. Of
course she didn't know how Jason would react to her leaving town
for the day.

By the time she pulled into her driveway it
was five o'clock. She was surprised to see Detective Perkins and
Officer Jurgen waiting for her.

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“We'd like to ask you some questions.”

She was startled. “Why? What's wrong?”

Perkins never smiled. “Please follow us to
the police station.”

The reporters began inching in their
direction and Jurgen looked over at them nervously.

Stacey felt panicky. “I'd like to know what's
going on.” When Perkins reached for her arm, she pulled back
quickly. “Okay. I'll follow you.”

They took her into an interrogation room and
she sat on a hard metal folding chair. A large mirror to her right
made her wonder if there were people on the other side observing
the interview. She wondered if Agent Morrison was there. She also
wondered if this was the same room Jason had been questioned in.
Now she knew how he must have felt.

She became even more alarmed when Perkins
read her something called a noncustodial rights warning. He
explained it was like the traditional Miranda warning with one
difference: She didn't have the option of having a lawyer appointed
for her, and she was told she could leave anytime she desired. She
nodded mutely when he asked her if she understood she wasn't under
arrest at this time.

A woman came in and introduced herself as
Detective Clemens. She had curly red hair and a pleasant face.
Smiling, she told Stacey she would be doing the questioning.

It was almost a relief to see a new face, and
a feminine one at that. Stacey relaxed a bit.

Clemens sat opposite Stacey and began the
questioning. “How well did you know Gary Tomlison?”

She looked at Detective Clemens, then at
Perkins. With the two of them staring at her, waiting for her
response, she felt like they were ganging up on her. “I met Mr.
Tomlison earlier this week.”

“Where did you meet him?” The woman spoke
softly and smiled at Stacey with encouragement.

“At the high school.”

“And what were you doing there, Mrs.
Hunter?”

She hesitated. “I was looking for information
on Mark Stone.”

Stacey noticed Perkins seemed surprised to
hear that.

“Why did you want information on Mark Stone?”
Perkins asked.

Stacey felt anger flaring. “Because you
people were accusing my husband of kidnapping Kyle Stone and I
wanted to find out who really did it.”

Detective Clemens looked annoyed at Perkins
as he stared at Stacey. He ignored Clemens and asked Stacey, “And
did you think Mark Stone was involved? Did you find out your
answer?” He finally stopped talking at the look from Clemens.

Stacey paused. “First tell me why I'm
here.”

The detective nodded. “Fair enough. Mrs.
Hunter, we had an anonymous call that said you are involved with
Gary Tomlison's murder.” They waited for her response.

Shocked, she cried out, “Me? Why would I want
to kill him?”

“That's what we'd like to know,” Perkins
muttered under his breath. He didn't comment on the fact she wasn't
surprised to hear Gary was dead.

“I hardly knew the man.” She looked from one
to the other. “Besides, I was home this morning.”

Perkins' eyebrows went up. “How did you know
he was killed this morning?”

Detective Clemens looked pointedly at Perkins
and he clipped off his next question. “Perkins? May I speak with
you outside?”

Stacey knew she had made a mistake and took
the opportunity of the detectives' exit to think of an answer. They
came back a moment later and Perkins scowled at Stacey.

Yet Clemens was smiling. “Now, Mrs. Hunter.
How did you know Gary Tomlison had been killed this morning?”

“Well, I saw it on the news. Didn't they say
it happened this morning?”

Perkins stared at her steadily but didn't say
anything. Stacey was grateful to Detective Clemens for making him
stop asking her questions.

Stacey ignored Perkins and looked only at
Clemens as she asked Stacey a tough question of her own. “They said
a man was found dead but they didn't say who that man was or when
he was killed. I wonder how you would know his identity when we
didn't?”

Stacey's hands felt clammy and she rubbed
them together under the table where no one would notice. “Did
anyone see me leave while my husband was delivering the ransom
money?” she asked.

Clemens glanced at Perkins, then looked back
across at Stacey. “We weren't watching your house.”

Stacey squeezed her eyes shut. “Well, I was
there with my children.”

“Why did you tell Mrs. Tomlison to call the
police only hours after Mr. Tomlison had been killed?”

Stacey opened her eyes and forced herself to
look straight ahead. “When I heard the news, I guessed it might be
Gary. I went to see Michelle and when I went into the house it
looked like it had been ransacked. So I suggested she call the
police.”

“What made you think the dead man was Mr.
Tomlison, Stacey?”

Stacey noticed the subtle change that
occurred when Clemens stopped calling her Mrs. Hunter and instead
called her Stacey. “The reporter mentioned a scar over his eye that
I remembered seeing.”

Perkins seemed to be enjoying this and
couldn't stop himself from asking, “Why would you assume it was
Gary Tomlison? There are a lot of men with scars on their faces who
would be more likely than a teacher to be a victim of murder.”

She felt light-headed. “I guess I just had a
feeling it was him.” She looked Perkins straight in the eyes. “By
then I had found the paper with Gary's signature on it. The one
that said he bought the car involved in the kidnapping.”

Perkins smiled at her. “Yes, your husband's
car.”

“He sold it.” Stacey couldn't believe
this.

Detective Clemens took over. “That's
interesting you should mention that, Stacey. As a matter of fact,
Mrs. Tomlison told us they never owned a brown Toyota Celica.”

Stacey bit the inside of her lip to keep from
crying.

“Why didn't you call us right away to tell us
your son had been a witness to Kyle's kidnapping, Stacey?” The
detective asked.

She felt her hands begin to tremble. “I . .
.I guess I was scared.”

Clemens furrowed her brow. “Why would you be
scared? Did you think your husband was involved?”

Stacey thought about that morning, only four
days before, when she had suspected her husband of being involved.
But now she couldn't entertain such thoughts, and she certainly
wouldn't admit to the police that she'd had suspicions. “No. It's
just that, when Robby described that car, I panicked.” She looked
quickly from one to the other. “But I know Jason's not involved.”
As they stared at her, Stacey felt the tension increase. “I'm not
under arrest, right?”

Clemens looked at Perkins. “No. I thought
we'd made that clear.”

Perkins nodded.

“Then I'm free to go, right?”

“Yes,” answered Clemens, “But I have one more
question.”

She tried to breath normally. “Yes?”

“Why did you lie about Gary owning your
husband's car?”

She opened her eyes wide. She felt betrayed
by this woman who she had thought was on her side. “I didn't lie. I
found that paper when I was cleaning out a drawer.”

They looked at each other, neither one
smiling. “Are you saying Mrs. Tomlison lied about owning that
car?”

Stacey stood up suddenly and hit the table
with her closed fist. The officers were startled. It took all of
her self-control to keep from becoming hysterical. “Don't you see?
Someone else is involved in the kidnapping with Gary. Maybe even
his wife.” Stacey knew she was grasping at straws.

Perkins gave her a patronizing look. “You
don't really believe that, do you, Stacey?”

Stacey felt exasperated. “I'm leaving
now.”

They didn't try to stop her as she stood, her
heart pounding, and left the police station.

When she got into her car in the police
parking lot, she sat there, too stunned to cry. Who called in
anonymously to say I had something to do with Gary's murder? How
would that person know I had even met him? Is it the same person
who left the message on my machine saying they knew what I was
doing? Was it the same person who left the spiders on my doorstep?
And most ridiculous of all, do the police think Jason and I
conspired to commit a kidnapping? How absurd!

Starting the car, she slowly drove home. She
didn't know what to do, but she did want to talk to Jason about
it.

When she got home, she remembered the milk
she had bought at the store and hoped it hadn't spoiled. Putting it
in the refrigerator, she went to look for Jason, but was
disappointed when she couldn't find him. She needed to talk to him
about what had just happened. He would probably laugh at the irony.
Because of her he had become a suspect in a kidnapping and now she
might be a murder suspect.

Did the police connect the murder with the
kidnapping? Did they already think Gary was involved in Kyle's
abduction? Were they just playing with her? Or had they discounted
any connection between Gary's murder and the kidnapping? She
thought Gary must have been involved and whoever killed him was
probably the mastermind.

She knew she was innocent and hoped the
police would soon discover that, too. Balling her fists in
frustration, she knew once again it was up to her to prove her own
innocence. But she needed to find the real murderer to do that.

She was hopeful Deanna might shed some light
on the whole situation when Stacey went to San Francisco
tomorrow.

She was worn out and beginning to get worried
about Jason and the kids. Where were they? It was six-thirty.

She went into the bedroom and put on a pair
of comfortable sweats and a T-shirt, then went into the kitchen to
start dinner. As she walked through the family room, she picked up
the remote from the top of the television and flipped on the news.
While pulling some things out for dinner, she only half-listened to
the anchor. She began chopping vegetables and setting them into a
bowl, but her knife froze in midair as the anchor began his next
story.

“...we now have the identity of the victim
who was found murdered earlier today. His name was Gary Tomlison.
He was a local high school math teacher. The police have no
suspects in custody at this time.”

They cut to video of the crime scene which
Stacey hadn't seen before. It was behind a supermarket and yellow
police tape was strung around the area like garland on a Christmas
tree. A white sheet covered the body. They cut to the anchor
again.