The Photographer (4 page)

Robert was getting impatient. “He has some pictures we need for the newspaper, Mrs. Ames. Would you call him?”

“He doesn't like to be disturbed when he's in his darkroom. He spends far too much time in there.”

“Can we go up to his room?” Megan suggested.

“Oh no. I'll go up there. He might need something by now anyway.” Mrs. Ames motioned for Robert and Megan to come in and headed upstairs—somewhat reluctantly, it seemed to Megan. In fact, she detected a hint of fear in Mrs. Ames's voice and manner. Was Derrick nasty when his mother disturbed him?

As they waited Megan began to feel a funny itching around her wrists. She rubbed them and the itch turned to pain. She shook both hands to get rid of the sensation.

“I'm glad I'm not an only child,” Robert said, distracting Megan.

“You've forgotten that I am. But my parents don't treat me like that, thank goodness. Maybe that's why Derrick is so quiet. There's no one at home that he wants to talk to.”

“Where's his father?”

“I don't think anyone knows. I can see why he left his wife though,” Megan whispered, stifling a giggle.

“Naughty, naughty.” Robert fingered a wroughtiron sculpture that moved slowly when touched. It balanced on a piece of marble and stainless steel.

Mrs. Ames cleared her throat as if to say Robert shouldn't touch things. “Derrick is busy. He handed me this packet through the door.”

Robert took the manila envelope and shuffled through the pictures. “Thanks, Mrs. Ames. This is what I need.”

Megan led the way out of the house, with its cloying atmosphere. There was a look in Mrs. Ames's eyes that Megan didn't like. She couldn't put a label on it, but she made some connection to her wrists itching again. The sensation stopped the minute she got back in Robert's car.

“Did you get a creepy feeling, being in there?” Megan asked Robert.

“Just that I wouldn't want to live there. Seemed like an unpopular museum. I don't blame Derrick for hiding out in his darkroom.”

“This may sound crazy, but I got the idea that Mrs. Ames was afraid of something, maybe even Derrick.”

“Yes, that's crazy, Megan. She was probably just a little tipsy.” Robert laughed.

Megan shrugged off the idea and shuffled through the pictures as Robert headed for school. Cynthia, Bunny, Roxie MacNeil, Marva James, Candy Gilford, and Lora Santana. Pasteboard smiles on pasteboard girls. Except for Cynthia, none of the beauties had much going for her except looks. Was it true that when you were physically beautiful, you didn't have to work so hard to cultivate talent or inner beauty? Or was that a cliché? Five of these six girls just happened to be among those who didn't bother to cultivate anything else.

Actually, Lora Santana loved horses and was a good rider. She'd been Stock Show Queen last year. Roxie and Bunny worked on the paper, but they confined their news to lightweight subject matter. Roxie was good at layout and collecting ads. Merchants dazzled by her looks probably bought ads to see her smile.

Megan scolded herself. She was being catty, and maybe even a bit jealous of such an array of glamour. Derrick had done his job well. They all looked relaxed, beautiful, and were caught in a good light, one that flattered their features. If Derrick ever wanted to do fashion photography, he'd be successful.

“Thanks, Megan. For some reason I didn't want to go out there alone. I hope you won't get any flak for being late to your history class.” Robert parked his car in the school lot and they scrambled out.

It was worth it, Megan thought. She was excited about the weekend now. She was really looking forward to Homecoming.

Chapter 6

An incredible amount of exhilaration filled Megan as she dressed for the Homecoming Dance. This was silly, she thought. She was only going out with Robert, her good friend. They'd spend most of the evening taking photos.

“I'm so glad you decided to go, Megan,” her mother said. “I've had my eye on this dress for weeks. I saw it first in a show at May D & F. And I guess I'd better confess.” Megan's mom giggled, actually giggled. Megan looked at her with surprise. “I put it on layaway.”

“Mom, you didn't.” Megan laughed and looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her mother's room. “What if I wasn't invited to any dances this year?”

“Oh, I knew you would be.”

The dress was a dusty pink, surprisingly flattering despite Megan's red hair. One of Megan's shoulders was left bare and on the other was a huge pink rose made of layers and layers of chiffon. It seemed to float over her shoulder when she twirled. She wore soft maroon slippers that had tiny heels. Her long, thick hair was clean and shiny and swirled around her shoulders. Pink-and-maroon earrings dangled from her ears, but they were the only jewelry she wore. Having a mother who was a model had taught her that simple styles were really more eye-catching than lots of ruffles and baubles. For her, anyway. As a rule, Megan didn't wear makeup, but tonight her mother had skillfully made up Megan's face with just a touch of foundation, eye shadow, and mascara. Megan was amazed at the difference it made in her looks. Huge green eyes sparkled, almost laughing back at her from the mirror.

When she floated into the living room, where Robert was visiting with her father, she had to hold back her laughter. Robert was momentarily speechless, but Megan could feel his surprise and admiration. He didn't expect her to wear her usual braid and jeans, did he? Too bad she had to swing the heavy camera case over her shoulder instead of carrying a simple clutch purse.

Robert grabbed the bag from her. “I may forget we're there on business,” he whispered as they left the Davidson house. “You look …” Robert searched for the right word.

Megan had to laugh then. “Gorgeous, beautiful, lovely—any of those will do.”

“All of those.” Robert laughed, too, and they both relaxed. “Have I ever seen you in a dress?”

“I should hope so. But maybe not. Hey, this is an occasion.”

The gym was decorated in harvest style, with pumpkins, dried cornstalks, and big bales of hay to sit on or to use for tables. Everyone spoke to Robert and Megan, and Megan gathered many compliments, even from guys. Suddenly she felt popular and pleased with herself. Maybe she should give more time to her appearance, care more how she looked. She knew she had lots of friends, but she'd usually stayed in the background of school life, taking pictures, writing stories, observing what other people did.

Almost immediately Megan noticed Derrick snapping pictures all over the gym. He had two cameras slung around his neck and looked very official. He hadn't even bothered to dress up, but wore khaki fatigues as usual. It was as if he were saying, I am here only to record this frivolity.

Robert found them a table and waved at Gus and Cynthia to join them. Cynthia sat beside Megan and whispered, “That Derrick is driving me crazy, Megan. Every time I turn around, he snaps my picture.”

“Take it as a compliment, Cynthia. You look lovely.”

Cynthia wore the shimmering gown she'd created for the Homecoming ceremonies and the dance. It was hard to believe she'd made it herself instead of discovering it in one of Denver's fancy boutiques. There were tiny gold beads all over the cream chiffon that caught and reflected the light. A peach-colored shawl covered her shoulders, and at her waist was a spray of peach-colored roses tied with a brown ribbon. Her white-blond hair was piled high, and here and there tendrils escaped in a sexy, teasing fashion.

“So do you, Megan.” Cynthia took a good look at Megan for the first time. “That dress is lovely. Let me guess. Your mom picked it out.”

“You don't think I have good taste?” Megan teased.

“I think you have excellent taste.” She leaned close and whispered. “In guys. I just know what kind of clothes you usually wear.”

“Maybe I'll change my image, starting tonight.” Megan grinned, and Cynthia squeezed her arm.

While they whispered, Derrick kneeled in front of Cynthia and snapped her picture. The flash startled Megan, and she could see that Derrick was being annoying. No one liked lights flashing in her eyes every few minutes. Megan also picked up on the anger building in Cynthia.

“It's starting to be an invasion of privacy,” Cynthia complained. “I'm sure he has all the photos he needs for the paper or the annual.”

“Do you want me to have Robert speak to him?” Megan asked. Maybe that would be a good way to approach Derrick, she thought. Then it wouldn't seem to come as a direct complaint from Cynthia. She had a right to be frustrated with Derrick, though. Megan wondered if this was Derrick's way of getting even with Cynthia because she'd turned him down for the dance. He had to know he was bugging Cynthia, interfering with her fun.

“No, I hate to give him the satisfaction of knowing I care.”

“You
are
a celebrity. Ignore him and enjoy being with Gus and knowing you look beautiful.” Megan sipped the Coke Robert had brought her. He and Gus had disappeared for a few minutes, leaving the girls to chat.

“Want to dance?” Robert asked Megan when he returned. “Derrick seems to be taking enough photos for us all. I think we can relax and have a good time.”

Megan stood up and took Robert's hand. “Aren't you dancing?” she said to Cynthia before they walked onto the floor.

“If Gus doesn't mind, we'll sit this one out. I'm a bit tired,” Cynthia said, taking Gus's hand.

Cynthia did look tired. Even in the dim lighting, Megan could see the dark circles under her eyes. She had probably sewn for nights, and now, last night's game and tonight's celebration were taking their toll on her energy.

“I developed some of your photos from last night, Megan,” Robert said as they moved to the beat of the slow number. “They're excellent, better than most of mine. Having you and Derrick on my staff this year has sure made the job easy.”

“Robert, Derrick has taken many more photos of Cynthia than necessary tonight. If you get a chance to do it tactfully, would you tell him you think that's enough?”

“He does get carried away with his work, doesn't he?” Robert said. “Look at him. Two cameras.” Robert chuckled.

They were on the other side of the gym when the number finished, so Robert suggested they dance the next. Megan didn't complain. She could dance with Robert all evening. Forget work.

So she didn't see what happened. But she knew instantly that something was wrong with Cynthia. “It's Cynthia, Robert. Something's happened.”

By then people had stopped dancing and begun to talk. “Cynthia.” “Cynthia.” “Cynthia.” The name carried from person to person like an echo coming toward Megan.

Megan left Robert and pushed through the crowd. “Let me past, please! What's happened? She's my friend. Let me get to her.” An aisle opened for Megan when people heard the urgency in her voice.

“Cynthia!” Megan screamed without meaning to. Beside their table Cynthia had collapsed in a pool of shimmering gold beads and cream chiffon. Gus knelt, cradling Cynthia's head in his lap.

“What happened, Gus?” Megan questioned.

“I don't know.” Gus was practically in tears. “She got up. We'd started out to the dance floor. She didn't even say anything, just passed out, almost before I could catch her.”

Robert reached them. “Has anyone called an ambulance? Should we take her to the hospital?”

“Let's wait a minute,” Megan suggested. “Cynthia, Cynthia?” Megan tried to get her friend to gain consciousness. She frantically racked her brain trying to remember what she had learned in her first-aid class. “Move the crowd back, Robert. She needs air. Cynthia?” Megan patted Cynthia's cheeks lightly. She seemed so far away. A pinpoint of fear started to form in Megan's stomach. Cynthia was deathly pale and her skin was cold. “Call an ambulance, Robert. I can't get her to come around at all.”

As Robert stood and ran for the office to phone, Megan focused on the crowd, milling around with concerned looks on their faces. Her eyes stopped on one face that held no element of concern. Derrick slouched near them, his cameras dangling, leaning on a post that was wrapped with autumn leaves. On his face was the tiny grin, his lips curled so slightly that only someone who knew him would realize he was smiling.

The fear inside Megan started to grow like the nucleus of something evil.

Chapter 7

Megan and Robert followed the ambulance to the hospital, but for a time all they could do was sit in the waiting room and worry. Gus paced the floor, unable to sit still.

“She has to be all right, she just has to,” he said.

“She will be, Gus,” Megan reassured him. “I think she was exhausted from all the fuss, getting ready for the ceremonies, staying up late sewing.” Megan comforted herself as well as Gus.

Mrs. Harlow sent them all home. “There's no reason for all of you to stay here, Megan,” she said. “The doctor has taken some blood samples, and he wants Cynthia to stay the night and rest. She seems okay now. The doctor thinks she may have fainted from exhaustion. I told Cynthia she was working too hard.” Mrs. Harlow smiled at Megan and patted her hand, but she looked tired too.

Megan and Robert were quiet on the trip across town, each thinking their own thoughts about the evening. But at Megan's door, Robert pulled Megan close.

“You're a good friend, Megan, to me and to Cynthia. Her getting sick makes me realize how much I care for you. If that had been you—”

“It wasn't, Robert.” Megan cut off his worrying. “Cynthia has never been too strong. Sometimes I think she doesn't eat right, trying to stay so thin. Fortunately, I don't have that trouble.” Megan's stomach fluttered at Robert's standing so close. She tried to tease to make herself relax.

“You looked great tonight, Megan.” Robert laughed. “Great? Some writer I am. You looked fantastic, beautiful …”