Camera Never Lies (4 page)

N
o.” The word rushed out like I’d collided with someone during a game of tag. My outburst occurred simultaneously with Spencer’s. But our objections to Rene’s suggestion didn’t come close to hiding the strange sound that escaped from Conrad.

His expression contorted as he took a long breath. Perhaps he hoped to regain his composure, but he failed. A fierce huff forced its way from his nostrils. “You can’t mean that, Rene. Not again.”

He’d been through this with her before, so his strong reaction surprised me. I figured he should have expected it. Even better—prepared for it. I had always worried that his patience would come to an end long before they were married. Maybe he dared to hope the wedding plans would stick. But this time, he’d chosen the wrong adhesive—one that couldn’t withstand a murder.

The memory of Alec’s body made me shudder, drawing Spencer’s attention from Conrad’s histrionics. Though startled by the concern in Spencer’s eyes, I shrugged off his attention, returning mine to Rene’s response.

She gave none. Instead, she stared at the overlarge footstool in front of the couch as though the strange pattern provided the answers to the universe, or at least to her current dilemma. Her anguish appeared equal to that which she’d caused. Conrad turned his back to her and paced across the giant Persian rug, which seemed out of place in this rustic lodge. Animal skins were no longer politically correct. He stopped to stare at the fireplace, large enough for a man to stand inside, and thrust his hands through his hair.

I rushed to Rene, dropping to my knees beside the couch. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as if in rhythm to a melody only she could hear—I imagined the theme song from
Out of Africa
.

I’d never been able to watch someone cry without joining them, but I wanted to encourage Rene, so I swiped at the tears on my face and composed myself. Still, I couldn’t hide from the fact that I was to blame for the current scene in this tragic love story.

What had I done? Was it possible they could have enjoyed the weekend and completed their vows without hearing about Alec Gordon? Too late it occurred to me that the authorities probably wouldn’t question my friends, because they hadn’t arrived until after the murder.

Another tragedy could not occur on my watch. I wouldn’t allow it. Sitting on the ottoman next to Rene, I whispered, “You two are meant for each other. This is absurd.”

Conrad whirled to face me. I hadn’t thought he’d heard me. Eyes aimed and mouth cocked, he readied to nail me with whatever form of ammunition he could muster.

“You.” Rather than bellow, his voice came out in a venom laden snarl. “We would be married now if Rene hadn’t insisted we include you.”

I stood to face the one-man firing squad, believing that little Murphy should probably face it with me, because he was partly to blame. Everything that could go wrong had definitely gone wrong. “You mean.…” My words barely audible, I cleared my throat.

Conrad’s eyes glistened. “I wanted to whisk her away this time—elope and honeymoon in the Swiss Alps. Instead of making plans that always seem to fall through. But she can’t do anything spontaneous, and she insisted you be involved.”

Conrad was impulsive, lived for the moment, and Rene tried to plan every moment in her day. I knew his venom only added to Rene’s insecurities, her feelings that they were too different. But couldn’t she see how much he loved her?

Rene stood then. “Would you two quit talking about me as though I weren’t here? Besides, it’s more than that and you know it, Conrad. I wanted us to marry here, where we first fell in love.”

Conrad had been every hopeless romantic’s dream when, years ago, he’d agreed to travel across the Atlantic to meet Rene at Caldera Lake—one of her favorite places—for a weekend of nature hiking and tree hugging. Rene loved all things primitive and organic and wanted to know if she had a future with the sophisticated and debonair Prince William look-alike.

Spencer placed his hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t the time or place to discuss private matters. Let’s register for our rooms, shall we?”

Conrad nodded. “Rene? Will you agree to stay so we can at least talk this through?”

“Spencer’s right. We need to talk about this in private.” She glanced around the lobby.

Spencer gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, a vote of confidence that energized me. “No need for you ladies to move.”

“I’ll take care of the rooms, Rene.” Frown lines remained chiseled in Conrad’s face as he and Spencer headed to the registration desk. To have a man as handsome and doting as Conrad eager to escort her down the aisle—what must Rene be thinking to question marrying a guy like that? A twinge of jealousy stole through my heart. Not for Conrad, but for what Rene had with him and appeared to be throwing away.

I watched Spencer’s tall, athletic form at the registration desk. I fancied that, in some way, Spencer’s shoulder squeeze had been a protective gesture. My heart still warmed by the action, I shook my head. This wasn’t the time for romantic giddiness.

I had to work fast. “Rene, I can’t allow you to call off the wedding. I feel this whole thing is my fault.”

She shook her head. “Polly, good grief. It’s not your fault someone died in the lodge. So how can you blame yourself?”

What would she think if she heard the events of the morning—of Mom’s involvement with Alec Gordon? “I’m thinking more along the lines that I shouldn’t have told you. Maybe you never would have known, at least until after the wedding.” That was pushing things, but considering Rene liked to spend so much time outdoors, maybe she would have escaped the news.

Rene sighed and plopped onto one of the sofas. She unwrapped another lozenge. At this rate, she’d run out of them before nightfall.

Finally she spoke. “Someone died here on the very weekend of our wedding. How can I ignore this omen?”

“No, listen to me. You’re a Christian now. Why do you hold on to ridiculous superstitions?” A quick glance to the registration desk rewarded me with a wink from Spencer. He’d known I would talk to Rene.

Rene looked at me, her eyes slowly focusing, as though shedding blinders. “I know you’re right.”

“You need to read your Bible and pray. Get some rest. That will clear your head, and you’ll be as good as new.”

A weak smile curved her lips. “You’re good to me, Polly. I wish I could believe you. “

“It’s just wedding jitters. You should know that by now.”

They’d been close to their wedding day three times now. Though stable was not a word used to define their relationship, I knew they belonged together. If only Rene could overcome the fear that kept them apart.

“We’re checked in.” Conrad frowned at me as he took Rene into his arms. Her resistance appeared to melt as he rubbed his hand down her back, like someone who cherished a priceless possession.

They would be fine.

I looked to the fireplace, the chairs, other tourists, anything but their private moment. Spencer stood uncomfortably near as memories of tender moments accosted me. I risked a glance at him. He looked rigid and strained, but gentleness dwelled in his eyes. Was he remembering as well?

I couldn’t breathe and paced the cozy area encompassing the rug.

Conrad and Rene walked away arm in arm. “See you for dinner, Polly,” she called over her shoulder.

I hoped she’d remember our discussion and that she’d marry Conrad this time. Unsure if my legs would carry me anywhere, I slumped onto the sofa to gather my bearings.

I was thankful when Spencer sat across from me, not next to me. “Spot on, Polly. What did you say to her?”

“Just reminded her that she’s a Christian. Forget the superstitions.” I rubbed my temples.

“Right you are. I knew you could straighten this whole misunderstanding out. You were, after all, always straight to the point.”

I’d closed my eyes momentarily, but they popped open as I frantically tried to read between the lines of his statement. Was he referring to my need for a commitment from him during the time we’d been a couple?

He quirked a half smile, and I feared he could read my mind. “I meant that as a compliment, Polly.”

I laughed. “So you
were
reading my mind.”

“Not exactly. I just know that you apply multiple meanings to simple statements.”

I frowned then realized I was doing it again. “Listen.…”

“You look as though you could use some rest. And I know that I could. It’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry for keeping you. I forgot all about your travels.”

Spencer stood up and so did I. He closed the small distance between us, coming much too close for comfort.

He leaned in. With stomach clenched and heart pounding, I braced myself. Would he kiss me? His quick peck on my cheek answered my nervous question. He left me reeling in the scent of his cologne. I touched my face where his lips had been.

No, no, no
…

Now wasn’t the time for my brain to go all fuzzy, thinking about this unnerving man who invoked any number of pleasant memories—along with unpleasant ones.

Confused and drained after coming face-to-face with two men from my past—one hated, one loved—and the accompanying memories, I felt like a character in some sort of twisted spoof of
A Christmas Carol
.

As if in answer to my thoughts, somber figures entered the lobby, wheeling a body covered with a dark sheet.

“Oh bother.” Mom dug through her purse as we waited for the slow-moving elevator to edge its way from the third floor to the first. “I forgot to take an ibuprofen. I must have left the bottle in my room.” She snapped the bag closed and looked at me, an apology in her eyes.

“Oh no you don’t.” I pursed my lips, standing my ground. She wasn’t going to get away with using something like ibuprofen as an excuse to miss dinner. “The last thing you need is to be alone right now. You’ll only get more depressed.”

Not to mention staying hidden might translate into her perceived guilt. I smiled to disguise my concern. Then my nose crinkled. I wasn’t sure if the stale cigarette smell came from the elevator or from Mom. The doors of the elevator weren’t in any more of a hurry than the elevator. I followed her out of the contraption into the hallway, catching a whiff of
au de cigarette
from her clothing.

“Mom, have you started smoking again?”

She jerked her head back and gave me a quizzical, indignant look. “I haven’t touched those things in five years. You know that.”

“Really?” I wanted to believe her, to push my doubts aside.

She looked up and down the long hall, tugging at her bottom lip. At first I thought she would brush aside my question. Then suddenly she yanked her purse open and grappled with a pack of cigarettes. She thrust them in my face as she squeezed, broken white sticks tumbling to the floor. “Is this what you want to see? Well, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. This thing with Alec…it has me frazzled.”

“Shh. Do you want someone to hear you?” Mom was a nervous wreck. I said nothing more but sent up a silent prayer as I bent over to pick up the mess she’d made. I stuffed the broken cigarettes in a nearby trash receptacle.
Lord, please let this be over soon
.

I was afraid of what this weekend would end up doing to all of us. The lodge had moved me to a room away from the crime scene because I’d asked, but I suspected the rangers would have made the request themselves, due to the investigation. I had to repack my bags and change rooms then hurriedly get ready for dinner. They hadn’t moved me any closer to Mom though. I remained on the second floor, she on the third.

When I went to get her for supper, we’d discussed Alec’s death. I told her all about Rene’s reaction and that the wedding plans were on unsteady ground. The thought struck me that they were on unsteady ground literally as well as figuratively. Caldera Lake was still considered an active volcano, though it hadn’t erupted in…hundreds of years? I wasn’t sure.

“I can feel a migraine coming on. I really should go back for some ibuprofen.”

“You just need something to eat. Being around other people will help you relax.” I tugged at her elbow.

She didn’t budge.

“Mom, all we have to do is smile and discuss everything good, praiseworthy, and beautiful at dinner. However that verse goes.”

“Oh, all right. But if my head starts that horrible pounding, I’m leaving.”

We headed down the hallway toward the restaurant. Slow, steady breaths helped to calm my rising anxiety. Practicing one’s own advice was a lot more difficult than dishing it out. Rene had phoned an hour earlier to confirm we’d all meet for dinner. Though she sounded rested—and there was the usual singsong to her voice—her tune rang flat. She hadn’t made her decision yet, I could tell. I hoped we could all enjoy dinner and, at least for the time, forget about murder and wedding plans gone wrong. Though I couldn’t force the others to agree to my way of thinking, I resolved, for my own peace of mind, to think about only good things. Well, except for one. I wouldn’t think about the feelings and memories Spencer’s presence stirred in me.

The Caldera Lake Dining Room stood before us—fine dining featuring Northwest cuisine. We stepped through the doors to the muted sounds of diners and clinking dishes. I spotted Rene and Conrad, and the hostess led us to their table. They shared greetings with Mom as we sat at the table, which was covered with white lace over a green tablecloth.