Dotty paused on the stairs for a moment to compose herself. The boys had looked so worried when she'd sent them up to their room that she knew she couldn't go up there looking as frazzled as she felt. She could hear Joe talking quietly to the agent who'd been interviewing her. It was calming to have someone like Joe here – he was such a solid comforting presence – and a lawyer which it seemed like they might need now. Unlike her, he also seemed to be maintaining his temper in the face of what she was sure was more stonewalling from that Mr. Melrose who had shown up not long after Amanda had apparently climbed out of her bedroom window and run off with federal agents chasing her through the backyard. It had taken her a moment to realize it was the same man who'd interviewed her after that crazy night with Andrei and those fake policemen who had tried to kidnap them. He'd been quite kind then and he was obviously trying to be again this time – he'd even suggested she call Joe for support – but this time, they were on the wrong side, and he wasn't quite as cheerful as he'd been back then.
Like mother, like daughter, she mused distractedly, getting mixed up with men who were on the run from something, although at least Amanda had met Andrei before – she'd only ever talked to this Lee Steadman fellow on the phone.
"Stetson," she reminded herself. "She said his name was Stetson." It was odd that in all these years Amanda had never corrected her when she had the name wrong.
"Not as odd as her jumping out a window and running away with a fugitive," prompted the little devil on her shoulder.
"If Amanda ran off with him, he must be innocent," countered the tiny angel. "Amanda may do a lot of crazy things but always for a good reason."
She looked up as an agent appeared at the top of the stairs, walking down with a stack of boxes in his arms.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked angrily.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. West." The agent actually managed to look genuinely apologetic. "There were a few things in Amanda's… I mean, in Mrs. King's room that we need to take as evidence."
"Well, I want an itemized list of what's in those boxes before you leave, do you understand me? Because you'll be slinking back in here bringing it all back before you know it!" she scolded. "I still can't believe any of you think she's done anything wrong!"
"Well, it's not really our job to think," replied the agent with self-deprecating honesty.
"Hey Fielder, let me help you with those," interrupted the agent who was stationed in the front hall. He stepped forward and took one of the boxes, but not before Dotty caught him giving Agent Fielder a look that was clearly meant to say "Shut up."
Agent Fielder, now looking quite abashed, let him take the top box and with a final apologetic look at her, stepped around Dotty and followed him out to the fleet of government cars that lined the street.
From her vantage point on the landing, her eye fell on a file folder that the second agent had put down on the hall table when he'd rushed to help with the boxes. As quickly and quietly as she could, she stepped down to snatch it off the table and then hurried upstairs to her room.
Stepping in, she closed the door behind her and glanced around. Everything was in its place, just as always, so they must have been serious when they said they'd only searched Amanda's room.
"For now" she thought dourly. It seemed like they weren't finding any of the things they'd expected to, so unless Joe came up with some legal thing, they'd probably be back. She lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed with a sigh, and flipped open the file folder.
It didn't contain much, although the first thing she saw was a photo of Amanda, smiling up at her.
"Oh my poor baby, what are you mixed up in?" she asked out loud in a despairing tone as she ran a finger along the picture. Setting it aside, she began to look through the rest of the folder but it wasn't very helpful – nothing that said why Amanda and her friend were in trouble, just a list of contacts like their phone number and Joe's, the addresses of the boys' schools, a stock photo of her new Jeep – all the kinds of things they'd be flashing around the neighbourhood as they hunted for her.
"Hunted for her" she grimaced inwardly. How was it possible that Amanda of all people was being hunted by the FBI or whoever these people were? It simply made no sense – none of this made any sense. And when she came home – and Dotty was sure this would all be cleared up any minute now and Amanda would be home where she belonged – it was going to be the talk of the neighbourhood for weeks.
She groaned as she quickly flipped through everything, her attention arrested by the final thing in the folder. She recognized it immediately – it was the same photo of Mr. Stetson that the first agent had shown her – the agent whose arrival made Amanda jump out a window to escape. She put down the folder and held the photo in both hands to study it.
So this was the mysterious Mr. Stetson, the man Amanda had insisted was just "in a little bit of trouble"… She stared down at the face that was grinning back up at her like some kind of movie star – gorgeous smile, dimples that seemed impossibly deep and clear eyes that looked open and guileless. He certainly didn't look like someone who would give away government secrets.
"If he'd smiled at me like that, I'd have jumped out a window with him too," she admitted to herself. "Oh Amanda, I hope you know what you're doing."
She gave the photo one last glance, then carefully slipped the folder under her mattress where she thought it might be safe for now. She'd figure out a way to give it back later. Or maybe not – why should she help those awful men?
Standing up, she looked in the mirror, seeing the worry etched in the lines on her forehead. Taking a deep breath to settle herself, she stepped out into the hallway and tapped lightly on the boys' bedroom door. "Phillip? Jamie? Your father is here."