Authors: Christine Kersey
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Kidnapping, #Abduction, #Domestic Fiction, #Novel, #clean suspense, #clean fiction, #suspense novel, #fiction suspense, #fiction for women
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.
“How are you, Kyle?” She pulled back further
and started checking him, looking for any damage. “Did they hurt
you?”
He shook his head.
She looked over her shoulder at the doctor,
who smiled at her. “He's fine, Mrs. Stone.” He walked over to them
and ruffled Kyle's hair. “He's ready to go home.”
Amanda looked at him, almost not believing
she could bring Kyle home. Then she went into action, getting him
dressed.
After a moment Kyle stopped her. “I can dress
myself, Mom.”
She laughed, her eyes unnaturally bright.
“I'm sorry. Of course you can.”
He finished dressing, jumped off the table
and stood there, ready to go.
Throughout everything Mark had been standing
quietly in a corner, taking it all in. He walked over to Kyle and
gathered him in his arms, tears flowing freely. Kyle pulled back
slightly.
“Dad? Why are you crying?” He hadn't seen his
father cry before and didn't know what to make of it.
Mark hugged him close, the tears choking up
his voice. “I'm just so happy to see you, Kyle. I love you.”
Kyle hugged him back. “I love you, too.”
Amanda joined the hug and knew her family was
complete again.
They climbed into their car as quickly as
they could, trying to ignore the shouts of the media. They drove
home and ran in the house before the reporters caught up with
them.
Stacey entered the atrium and walked toward
the woman who was sitting at the table by herself. She figured she
had a few minutes before Deanna finished getting a new room key and
came back down. At the thought of Deanna, Stacey looked up in the
direction of the room she had just been in, not sure exactly which
one it was. She didn't see anyone on the eighth floor watching her,
so she stepped up to the table where the woman was sitting.
“Excuse me,” Stacey said, a goofy smile on
her face. “Don't I know you?”
The woman looked uncomfortable. “I don't
think so.”
Stacey touched her finger to her chin. “Are
you sure? You look really familiar.”
The woman smiled, uncertain.
“What's your name?” Stacey asked.
“Tammy Everett.”
“Oh.” Stacey assumed she was Deanna's sister.
Then, making a face like she was deep in thought, she asked, “Where
are you from?”
The woman looked around, apparently
uncomfortable with all the questions. “I'm from out of town. I'm
just here visiting someone.” She looked around again. “And she
should be back here in a minute.”
“Sorry.” Stacey smiled at her. “I guess I
thought you were someone else.” Stacey quickly walked away.
She wondered if Tammy was a guest there, too.
She also wondered why Deanna didn't just have her sister come visit
at her apartment. One more puzzle to solve, Stacey thought. Every
time I think I'm getting closer to the answer, more questions pop
up.
She looked at her watch and saw she still had
two hours before she was to meet Deanna.
I hope she doesn't bring her sister along to
the meeting, thought Stacey.
Because she wanted privacy while opening the
envelope she had pilfered from Deanna's room, and because she was
famished, she decided to go to a restaurant, find a quiet place to
sit, and have a bite to eat. That would give her more isolation
than in the open hotel atrium. She remembered seeing a couple of
restaurants across the street and decided to go to one of them.
Walking out the door of the hotel, she turned
down the street and walked until she came to a familiar Mexican
restaurant, El Toritos.
As she opened the door, the smells of spicy
Mexican food filled her nostrils and she felt her stomach growl.
The waitress seated her at a table in the corner near a window.
After looking through the menu, she ordered a chicken enchilada and
water.
As she waited for her food, she looked around
at the other diners. There were still several empty tables, but the
ones that were occupied were filled with people who seemed to be
having a good time. As she listened to their subdued chatter, she
thought about her family and wished she could have stayed home with
them instead of coming to the hotel. Closing her eyes, she leaned
her head back as she thought about her husband of nearly nine
years.
He was probably fixing peanut butter and
jelly sandwiches for their children right now. She hoped they would
enjoy the day together.
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the
envelope. She knew it was against the law to open someone else's
mail, but it was against the law to murder someone, too, which was
exactly what Perkins seemed to be accusing her of. Which was the
lesser crime? Besides, this envelope had already been opened.
Again, she read the name on the envelope. It
was addressed to Deanna and the return address was the Stone's
house. Stacey reached in and plucked out the contents. Her eyebrows
went up as she stared at the first photo. It was a picture of
Deanna and Kyle. Kyle was smiling and the picture looked recent.
Who had taken it? Could it be Tina, Deanna's roommate? Is she
involved, too? Stacey turned to the next photo. This one showed a
smiling Mark and Deanna, their faces pressed together cheek to
cheek, facing the camera.
When were these taken? Do Mark and Deanna
have Kyle stashed someplace where he thinks he's just on an
adventure? I hope so, she thought.
Stacey nearly jumped as the waitress set the
food down on the table in front of her. Quickly putting the photos
back in the envelope, she wondered what would happen when Deanna
couldn't find them.
As she picked up her fork to begin eating,
she looked out the window at the cars driving by, then dropped her
fork back onto her plate with a loud clatter. She had just seen
someone drive by and pull into the hotel parking lot. Someone who
looked a lot like Detective Perkins.
Maybe he found something out about Deanna,
she told herself. Either that or Jason was forced to tell him I
came here and he's here to arrest me. She shuddered at the
thought.
Well, I did tell him in that note that
Deanna's staying there, she thought. So he's probably just here to
talk to her.
Stacey wondered if it was still a good idea
to meet with Deanna at two o'clock. Then she decided to show up for
the appointment, just to see what would happen.
Picking her fork up again, she tried to eat
her enchilada, even though her appetite had suddenly
diminished.
Sitting at the table and admiring the flowers
hanging nearby, Stacey noticed the atrium was beginning to empty as
people went off to their various destinations. Stacey looked at her
watch again, then looked around to see if Deanna was approaching
yet. It was only one-thirty, so Stacey didn't really expect her for
another half hour.
Trying to be inconspicuous as she looked at
the other people sitting at tables, she stood up, needing to
stretch her legs. As she walked toward the lobby she was surprised
to see Tammy Everett talking to the clerk at the front counter.
There were suitcases by her side and Deanna was nowhere in sight.
Stacey hoped Tammy was checking out.
She watched as Tammy signed something, lifted
her bags off the floor and left the hotel. She wondered if
Detective Perkins was up in Deanna's room questioning her or if he
had left too. Wandering over to a comfortable chair, one deep in a
corner of the room, she sat down again, prepared to wait a while
longer.
An hour later, when Stacey was convinced she
was not going to come, Deanna walked into the atrium and looked
around.
“Hi, Deanna. I was about to give up on you
coming,” Stacey said as she approached her.
Deanna smiled briefly. “I had to take care of
something.”
“That's all right.” Stacey motioned to a
nearby table. “Why don't we sit over there?”
Deanna followed Stacey to the table and sat
down. When Stacey asked if she could get her something to drink,
Deanna declined and said, “Look. I have a lot of stuff to do today.
What did you want to talk to me about?”
While she had been waiting for Deanna to show
up, Stacey had thought about how she would approach this
conversation. She had finally decided the direct approach would be
best. Pulling out the pictures she'd taken from Deanna's room,
Stacey laid them out on the table.
“Where did you get those?” Deanna asked,
anger clear in her voice.
“A little bird gave them to me,” Stacey said,
smiling.
“What newspaper did you say you worked
for?”
“I don't work for a newspaper, Deanna.”
Deanna jerked back in surprise. “I thought
you said you were a reporter.”
Stacey laughed. “That's just my cover.”
Deanna was obviously confused. “What do you
mean? Cover for what?”
Stacey leaned forward and looked around
conspiratorially. “I'm not at liberty to say. But I also need to
know who that woman was you were with earlier. Was she your
sister?”
“Wait a minute. Please tell me what's going
on.”
“I'm investigating Kyle Stone's kidnapping
and I would suggest you answer my questions,” Stacey said, hoping
she sounded authoritative.
“Is that why you were asking about Mark Stone
at the school?”
“Yes. Now tell me about these pictures,”
Stacey said, hoping Deanna would quit asking so many questions.
“And was that your sister you were with earlier?”
“Yes that was my sister. We're here taking
care of some family business.”
“Good. And when were these pictures taken?”
Stacey asked, tapping the photo of Deanna and Mark.
“Do you have some identification?” Deanna
asked.
The only identification Stacey had was her
driver's license and she wasn't about to show that to her.
When Stacey hesitated, Deanna asked, “What's
going on here? Who are you?”
“We have reason to believe Mark Stone was
involved in his son's kidnapping,” Stacey said, hoping to distract
Deanna from the fact that Stacey was lying about who she was.
The gasp that came out of Deanna's mouth
caused several people sitting nearby to look over at them. “It
couldn't be him!”
“What makes you so sure?”
Deanna sputtered for an answer. “It just
couldn't, that's all.”
“We have evidence to support this
assumption.”
The confusion written on Deanna's face was
genuine. “But Detective Perkins said some people named Jason and
Stacey Hunter were persons of interest.”
The smile froze on Stacey's face. “He told
you that?”
Deanna's hand fluttered up to her mouth. “I
wasn't supposed to tell anyone.”
“Don't worry. I won't tell a soul.” So that
was Perkins I saw! And he was talking to Deanna. Maybe I can find
out exactly what they have on Jason and me. “When did you talk to
the detective?” Stacey asked, sounding much calmer than she
felt.
Deanna looked up toward her room. “Just a
little while ago. In my room. In fact, he said he thought the woman
might be here!” Deanna became excited. “Can you imagine? A real
criminal, right here.”
Stacey's composure began to slip. “Is he
still here?” She looked around self-consciously.
“I don't know. Maybe. Why?”
Stacey rested her elbow on the table, her
hand next to her face. “I was just wondering.”
Deanna nodded.
“Did he have a picture of these people?”
“No,” Deanna said, then she seemed to
remember something. “Did you hear? Kyle came home today.”
Stacey was thrilled to hear this. “Really?
That's great. Who told you?”
“The police officer.”
The mention of Perkins' presence was like a
splash of ice water. Standing quickly, Stacey said, “I've got to
run now. But thanks for meeting with me.” She walked away, leaving
the pictures on the table and a confused Deanna staring after
her.
Darcy Gilbert was a small woman, just under
five feet tall, which made her an ideal person to interview young
victims. Right now she was kneeling in front of Kyle and speaking
to him in almost a whisper.
“Kyle? Tell me what you remember about the
people who took you.”
They were in the Stone's living room
surrounded by Mark, Amanda, and a couple of detectives. Once Kyle
had been returned and the FBI had determined the kidnapping had
never crossed state lines, the case had been turned back over to
the police, although the FBI was still giving help and sharing
evidence with the local authorities.
As Darcy smiled encouragement to Kyle, he was
hesitant and held his mother's hand. Amanda gave his hand a gentle
squeeze. “It's all right, Kyle. Tell her what you remember.”