Camera Never Lies (15 page)

Ranger Jennings wrote at length in his notebook. I took a seat across from him again and tapped my fingers on the table. His eyes darted to my hand then back to his notebook. A slight crease in his brow appeared. Aha, an irritation. He could be made to show emotion. I took my camera out of the case and fiddled with it. Could I manage a shot of him?

“So I can’t be accused of not asking you a specific question, is there anything else you know about the victim you can share with me?”

Ouch. His question had opened the door for me to tell him his wife had been having an affair with Alec Gordon. So she said. She’d confided in me, but would it be my word against hers? At this point, how could I trust her to take the high road?

I’d given him the photographs and hoped he was smart enough to figure it out. Otherwise, what would I tell him?
George had given Alec a dirty look? One of the tourists lied about knowing him? Your boat tour guide is morbid? Your wife, who was supposedly cleaning the room when she found Alec, held his handkerchief in her hand?
So what?

Because I’d given him the memory card, I didn’t have an extra one on me and couldn’t take a snapshot of him anyway. Feeling more like an idiot than ever, I stuffed my camera back in its case. “I think everything I have to tell you about the victim, as you call him, is on my camera’s memory card, which I already gave you. I’ve been taking photographs since I arrived. I encourage you to look at them.”

He wrote more in his notepad. I had the distinct impression he wasn’t taking me seriously. If he didn’t discover his wife’s relationship with Alec on his own, what would I do? It occurred to me that he might want to protect her. What if he destroyed the memory card?

Ranger Jennings returned me to the lodge, informing me he would probably need to question me again. In other words,
don’t leave
. That was fine with me until Monday rolled around. Then, I would need to get back to my business on the coast. By the time I arrived in my room, I was shaken, drained, and starved. The rangers could at least have offered me a Twinkie for my trouble. Wanting an extra measure of safety, I bolted the door behind me.

Considering how I’d last left Spencer—glancing at me from the lobby while I tracked down the housekeeper—he might call for a search party if I didn’t contact him soon. But I couldn’t think straight. A glance at the clock told me it was nearing five. Dinner couldn’t come soon enough. Remembering that I’d stuffed the side pocket of one of my bags with a few protein bars, I opened the closet to look for them.

Something on the floor caught my foot.

Hillary Jennings was cradled there, motionless. A long scream came from somewhere—it seemed outside of my body.

“Oh Lord, please not again.” I dropped to my knees to examine her, shake her to life, barely noticing the pounding on the door. The knob jiggled.

“Hillary, are you alive? Wake up!” Tears streamed down my face as I tried to find a pulse. My hands shook too much.

“Polly! What’s going on? Let me in.” Spencer yelled through the door.

I unbolted the door and opened it. It felt like reverse déjà vu. I pointed to the closet. “It’s Hillary, the housekeeper…” I slumped against the edge of the bed, trembling.

Spencer knelt next to her, looking for signs of life.

“Is she…is she—”

“She’s alive. Call 911 or whatever it is you call in this place.”

I called the operator, uncertain how things worked in a national park in the middle of nowhere. Within minutes, medics arrived, lifting Hillary out of the closet onto a stretcher. I wondered if we should have already eased her from the awkward position. We’d left her, I suppose, so the authorities could see her as I found her. I now saw how heartless the decision had been.

While they were moving her, Spencer wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “We might have hurt her, had we moved her, love,” he said, with a quick and tender peck on my cheek.

The kiss and endearment—something new from him—would have made me weak in the knees at any other time. I knew he was doing his best to comfort me. In return, I offered a wan smile. “I know.”

Hillary moaned and woke up, complaining about her head. She tried to climb off the stretcher, claiming she didn’t want to go to the hospital. The medics, assisted by two rangers, held her firmly as they wheeled her through the door. I wanted to collapse. Seeing someone on the closet floor twice now had reduced me to rubble, a woman whose tattered emotions lay in ruins.

I held strong until they were completely out the door and prayed silently the two rangers would leave with them as well. It struck me odd that Ranger Jennings, Hillary’s husband, had not come. Although I was worried for her, I was afraid of what he would think about me finding her in my room.

Spencer made to close the door against the madness in the corridor, but a familiar uniform stepped into the doorway. In no mood to answer more questions, I slumped onto the small love seat. One of the two rangers who’d answered the emergency had returned.

“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened here?” He stood poised, pen and pad ready.

“You’re not going to take me to the station?”

Young and seemingly inexperienced, he cleared his throat. “Not unless you want me to.”

Spencer stepped between us. “Look, she’s drained and needs rest. And I suspect something to eat. Can’t this wait?”

The ranger’s tense shoulders dropped. “If you can just tell me what happened, I can take your statement now. In case you hadn’t noticed, we have our hands full with this murder investigation. I don’t want to have to take you to the station either.”

Had he just arrived from Mars? Didn’t he know of my involvement? Ranger Jennings would have come unglued—in his own unemotional way—to find his wife in my closet, considering I was already on his list of interesting people.

Still, I was relieved at the ranger’s consideration. I explained that I’d come back to my room then opened my closet. That was all.

He clicked his pen when he finished writing. “Is there anything missing in your room or out of place? Did you see anyone suspicious in the hall?”

I glanced around my room. “I don’t see anything out of place, no. Honestly, I’d just come in. I might discover something missing later. And I didn’t notice anyone.”

He jotted more in his notebook before giving me his attention. “I’m sure we’ll have more questions later. Don’t leave until you talk to us first.”

Yeah. Yeah. “Thanks.” I tried to smile brightly at him. I’d been given a reprieve—at least for the moment.
Thank you for that, Lord
.

Spencer looked at me and shrugged then directed his attention to the ranger. “Say, how’s that murder investigation getting on? Caught anyone yet? Do we need to be worried?”

I couldn’t believe his audacity, but he apparently thought since the ranger didn’t realize who I was, he’d take advantage of it.

The ranger lowered his voice. “I’m not supposed to discuss the case, but I assure you, we’re close to an arrest.”

Though I’d already heard that news from Mom, hearing it again left me stunned anyway. I hoped they’d not decided to pin the murder on her. Or me for that matter.

Spencer shut the door when the ranger left then crossed his arms, leaning against the door. “Well, that was a bit odd.”

“Yes.” It was all too bizarre.

I stared through Spencer, the words hanging in my mind.

Too bizarre
.

How strange that Hillary confessed she’d had an affair with Alec, then while her ranger husband questioned me, someone left her in my closet as though dead, like Alec.

Things were not falling into place. I had the strange feeling that by attempting to solve the murder, I was cluttering the case—like some sort of distorted, self-fulfilling prophecy. I’d seen too many movies in which the attempt to prevent a prediction coming true actually caused it to come true.

And not just in movies. This was becoming all too familiar, reminding me of the awful weekend Brandon went missing. A terrible foreboding had nagged me all week long. When Brandon made plans to drive to Seattle for a business trip a few days early in order to see his mother, I feared my apprehension was somehow related to his trip. Instead of giving it to the Lord, I’d convinced him to stay home for the weekend, to go sailing instead. He’d not returned from the sailing trip.

So now I had to wonder, had my questioning Hillary led her to my room?

Before her mysteriously absent husband got to her, I had to know.

I opened the door and pushed Spencer out. “I’ll meet you, say, in an hour at the restaurant inside the lodge.”

At his stunned expression, I stood on my toes and pecked his cheek. “All is well. See you in a bit.”

His mouth hung open as though he had something to tell me, wanted to protest, but I closed the door on him. I felt bad, but I didn’t think Hillary would reveal anything with him around. She might not be as open if I didn’t come alone.

I couldn’t think without nourishment. I scrambled to the closet for those protein bars. Finding two bars—one of them crushed, but no matter—I ate them as I gathered my thoughts.

Why had Hillary been in my room? And who had put her in my closet?

I knew what I had to do next. Before leaving my room, I grabbed a new memory card, replacing the one I’d given to Ranger Jennings, and deposited it in the appropriate camera slot.

As I drove the three miles to the small infirmary where I hoped they’d taken Hillary, a thought occurred to me. By going to question her like this, I was becoming entangled even deeper in the investigation. So far, my amateur interrogations, however fruitful, had been—if I were honest with myself—hit-or-miss. But now my actions were calculated.

Pulling into the parking lot, I made for the far side of the infirmary, out of view from the ranger station. My greatest fear at the moment was running into Ranger Jennings. Once he learned the news concerning his wife, he was sure to be at her side.

Then he would come looking for me.

I took a step from my car and paused. Was I attempting an impossible task?
Lord, please don’t let me run into him
.

I had to consider the possibility that Hillary hadn’t come to my room of her own volition, that she’d been dragged or forced into my room, no matter how far-fetched it seemed. The way things were going, nothing would surprise me. In essence, discovering Hillary in my closet had increased my DEFCON readiness to level 2, just under maximum readiness. When or how it happened, I wasn’t sure, but somehow I’d learned to cope differently, better. I no longer needed my camera for therapy, even when the world of murder and mayhem had finally caught up with Mom and me.

As an unwilling captive, I had to find an escape—for both of us.

I strode toward the glass double doors of the main entrance to the infirmary, questions slamming my mind. Had Hillary come to my room to tell me something? A warning, perhaps?

Ignoring my sweating palms, I pushed through the door, not knowing what I’d find. A desk sat in the corner of the small reception area. Voices came from beyond a wide double door. One of them was definitely Hillary’s. I strode forward, noticing as I entered that the room was equipped for only limited medical services.

The discussion stopped. Hillary gasped when she saw me then threw her legs over the edge of the examination table and sat up, ignoring the protests of the man giving her medical attention.

“No, please don’t get up.” Sorry for startling Hillary, guilt flooded me. What kind of person was I to prey upon an injured person?

She eased herself back against the pillow, but her expression remained strained.

The man nodded at me then looked back at Hillary. “I’ll leave you two alone for a minute. But I still insist that you go to the hospital.” With that, he exited the room.

Sympathy flooded me, but I had to stick to my purpose. “I’m so sorry you’re hurt. What did the doctor say?”

“I might have a concussion.”

“You’re going to the hospital, right?”

She shook her head, wincing. “No, I can’t leave now.” She scrunched her brows.

“Have you talked to your husband about what happened in Alec’s room?” I waited for her reply. Had he gotten to her first? I was afraid if he talked to her before I did, anything she’d planned to tell me would be lost in the melee, especially if he’d looked at the photos.