Camera Never Lies (17 page)

I stared at the phone before setting it on the table in front of Spencer. Despite suffering with a stomach ailment—or spastic colon, as it was sometimes termed—Mom sounded better, more upbeat. And she’d taken the initiative to contact a lawyer. I hoped she wouldn’t need a defense attorney.

Spencer watched me but said nothing.

“I’ll be right back.” I left him and headed to the ladies’ room to splash water on my face, wash my hands, and gather my thoughts. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I wondered what Spencer saw in me. I was more of a wreck now than when I left the coast to come here, hoping for a refreshing weekend. I turned my head upside down to fluff my hair and give it some volume and applied some lip gloss I kept in my pocket.

Though I wasn’t satisfied with my appearance for dinner with Spencer, it would have to do.

Back at the table, I sat down to a plate of Hawaiian chicken. Spencer gave me a sheepish grin. “I took the liberty of ordering for you. I figured you’d be famished by the time you got here.”

The protein bars I’d wolfed down earlier had quit for the day, and I was ravenous. “How did you know what I wanted?” I smirked, never doubting his answer.

“A wild guess, really.”

“You’re good.” I grinned. I’ve always been afraid to try something new for fear I wouldn’t like it and that it would be a waste of money. So I stick with my old favorite, even though I’ve forgotten at what point I’d first tried the pineapple-smothered chicken.

“I wish Mom could have joined us.” Even though part of me knew that was true, the other part was glad I was alone with Spencer. I hoped he sensed that.

“I’m sorry, Polly.” He reached across the table and took my hand, sending a wave of something warm and unexpected through me.

I looked at him and saw that he was sincere. “Thanks for your concern. I think she sounds much improved from earlier, but if it weren’t for this investigation, I’d send her home so she could garden or do something therapeutic.”

Spencer quirked the left side of his mouth—the smile I loved. But I could tell it lacked its usual brilliance and figured he was concerned about her, too. My mind was reeling with what Hillary had told me, but I kept it to myself until I knew what Spencer wanted to talk about.

“Look, Polly.” He stared at the place setting in front of him. “I don’t want what I have to say spoiled with thoughts of murder. I think you’ve got too much on your mind. At least, much more on your mind than just me.”

He put his hand to his mouth and frowned. “If it weren’t for this wretched murder.”

I searched his eyes, questioning. Had I understood him correctly? He’d alluded to something more between us earlier in the day, but I dared not hope. If I were reading his expression right and not just seeing what I wanted, he’d planned to talk about us tonight. It was everything I hoped, everything I feared—he’d hurt me before. I couldn’t deny that he’d occupied my thoughts even while I searched for clues. If anything good could be said about this amateur investigation, it was that I was thankful for the distraction of a murder to solve.

I was the first to break eye contact, embarrassed by my thoughts. Though tempted by the hint of romance I saw in his eyes, I needed to remain cautious where Spencer Bradford was concerned. I toyed with my glass of water. “Yes, a murder does throw a wrench into things, doesn’t it?” My stomach growled.

Spencer watched me savor my first bite and smiled. “It’s funny, that.”

“What? That I always eat the same thing?” Being near Spencer and basking in the romantic ambience, my appetite almost began to wane. Almost.

He grinned then stuck a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“But I don’t always eat the same thing. If I’m at an Italian restaurant, I eat lasagna.”

I could tell by his expression that he wanted to laugh but couldn’t. When he finished chewing, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “The way the conversation’s going, I could easily go right into what I want to discuss with you.”

At that moment, I wished he would. “But you’re not.”

“No, too much is hanging over us. I want nothing of the sort when I…” He squinted and looked away in thought.

“Don’t do that to me. Finish what you were going to say, please.”

“Well, to complete the sentence would be to talk about what I’m trying not to talk about.” He winked.

It was hard to be frustrated with Spencer—the guy could find humor in any situation. But he wouldn’t find what I had to tell him next very funny. We finished eating in silence while I considered how to tell Spencer about Hillary’s confession.

Spencer placed his napkin and utensils on his plate. “So, let’s talk about our private investigation. Do you have any thoughts about why Hillary was in your closet?”

I sucked in a breath. What would he think when I told him what I’d done? But there was nothing for it. “It just so happens that I paid her a visit before coming here.”

“You what?” He’d spoken much too loud, reminding me of Mom. He realized it, too, and lowered his voice. “Where?”

I didn’t answer as he waved the waiter over and paid for the meal. I objected, but he wouldn’t hear of me paying. Chivalrous as always.

He leaned in and whispered, “Let’s take this conversation where we can be sure we’re out of earshot.”

It seemed like he was leaning and whispering a lot lately. I liked the nearness. “Good idea. But where?”

“The evening is still early. Let’s take a stroll along the rim.”

After I shared Hillary’s story, we went round and round about whether or not Hillary was the murderer and had lied to me. I believed her. Spencer wasn’t sure. Even if she had committed the crime, who had hit her over the head and put her in the closet? Or could she have staged it?

“I don’t see how,” Spencer said. “You did say they think she has a concussion, right? Say she’d gotten into the closet then hit herself over the head, which is hardly plausible. We would have seen whatever she used to hit herself with lying around.”

A cool breeze gusted, making me pull my jacket tight. “Who knows when someone else will be discovered in a closet?”

Spencer tugged me to him and wrapped his arm around me, warming me to my toes. “Now, Polly, I think Alec was the target and not anyone else. Hillary was involved with Alec, so she became a target, too.”

“I wonder if the rangers should claim she’s dead to protect her?” I didn’t mention the possibility that I’d been the intended victim, not Hillary.

Why did a murder have to occur on the weekend when I’d see Spencer again? How I wished he would just come out with whatever he had to say. But he was right. We didn’t need anything hanging over us.

As we strolled back toward the lobby, Spencer and I went over all the possible clues we’d found, including what we knew about Emily.

“What’s her name?”

“Who, Emily?”

“Yes, her. What’s her real name?” “Um…I don’t know.”

Eyes narrowed, he gave me his lopsided grin. “I’m disappointed in you. I thought you were a master sleuth.”

“Oh, really, Mr. CSI.” I considered asking him about withholding information from the authorities. But I feared he would put an end to the sleuthing if I told him about Ranger Jennings’s warning. I’d begun my search for the criminal with Mom as a possible suspect, and now I was one, too. But Hillary had added her name to the list when she’d asked for my help. She seemed truly scared. What would happen if she told no one what she knew, and I stopped working to solve the crime? I feared the worst—the real murderer would go free.

I jabbed Spencer with my elbow. “Well, here’s one for you. Why don’t you find out her real name and then see what you can discover about her? It was a mistake for her to insist I destroy any photos of her. She only made me curious about who she is.”

“Obviously she thought it worth the risk, rather than see them pop up where they weren’t supposed to. All right, I’m intrigued. I’ll see what I can find out about her. But I need her
real name.”

We’d come to a stop in the lobby. Spencer made to plop down on one of the large, comfortable sofas.

“Hey, wait.” I had an idea. “See that cute little blond receptionist over at the front desk?”

Spencer eyed me curiously. “This isn’t one of those trick questions, is it?”

I laughed. “No, I’m serious. We need to discover what we can about the other guests. We could be missing something or someone here. I think you need to cozy up to the cute blond and find out what you can.”

I think I caught him off guard big-time. Now it was his turn to laugh. “Surely you can’t be serious. First, I don’t see a cute blond. And second, I can’t just saunter up to her and become Prince Charming.”

“Oh, but you sell yourself short. I thought all men thought highly of themselves.” I reached up and finger combed his unruly hair. “Sorry, you just needed a little tweaking.”

“In that case, shouldn’t I take a shower and put on some cologne?”

I quirked a brow. “Didn’t you already do that for me not an hour ago?” I took a deep breath. “I can still smell your cologne. You’re fine. Besides, she’ll love your British accent.” A seed of doubt that this was a good idea began to niggle under my skin.

Spencer thought for a moment, postured in his signature position—elbow on arm, fingers across lip. He snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Let’s stage an argument. A giant lover’s quarrel, if you will.” His face reddened slightly. “Hence she’ll be much more sympathetic to me, making her vulnerable to my dashing manly charms.”

I covered my mouth to stifle my grin and hopefully bury my laugh. “That’s brilliant.” An overstatement, to be sure. But the guy needed a boost in his confidence to pull this one off.

“Shall we walk arm in arm, making sure she sees us?” He held out his elbow for my hand.

This could be fun, except that we had to end with a fight. “So, what’s the plan? How should we argue?”

“Let me remind you, this was your idea.”

I risked a glimpse at the young woman. She hadn’t seen us yet. With so many others wandering the lobby, how could we get her to notice? “We might need to be dramatic to get her attention.”

Spencer nodded then pulled me close. “Let’s just agree that it’s all for show, nothing to be taken seriously.” He turned me to face him, bringing his face near to mine. “Agreed, Polly?”

His voice sounded husky, and I struggled to answer. “Agreed. Nothing we do here should be taken seriously.”

Then Spencer kissed me. Thoroughly. I lost myself. Hadn’t this been what I’d wanted since I’d seen him? My head screamed at my heart that it was all a charade.

Chaos filled my mind as joy brimmed inside. I pushed away from him, and the dazed expression on his face further confused me.

I didn’t know what to think. He’d made sure I agreed that it was all a pretense to gain the receptionist’s attention. Did that include his kiss? The very idea sent outrage through me. I’d looked forward to the moment we’d kiss, if ever, as sacred somehow. But now he’d ruined it by using the situation to his benefit, playing me, as it were.

“All right. If you want to play games, then I have this for you.” I slapped him full across the face.

He stepped back, stunned. “What was that for?”

My knees shook. How much in our staged argument was real?

“For taking advantage of me.” I stomped away, breathless with rage and hurt, my emotions genuine. Once outside, I leaned over the rim wall and watched the lake below, hoping to gain my composure and some sense of decorum. What had just happened back there?

I began my usual overanalyzing. To state that all was done in pretense and then kiss me—did it mean that he didn’t really want to? I made my way back inside and into a darkened corner of the lobby where I could watch the scene unfold. Spencer had already begun chatting with the cute blond. The plan had worked.

Then why did I feel so defeated inside? I turned away, unable to watch him with her. This wasn’t such a good idea after all.

I couldn’t just stand around while he flirted, so I decided to find Emily. Maybe I could simply ask her what her name was. It never hurt to try the usual method. Another stroll outside would do me good, and I could start my search for Emily there. I phoned Mom to invite her along.

She answered on the first ring. “Feel like some fresh air?”

“Oh, Polly, I’m sorry I’ve been such a bore this entire trip. I just settled down with a good movie. Perhaps you’d like to join me.”

My spirits sagged. She’d spent too much time in her room, and I blamed myself. “Maybe next time. Listen, when all this mess is over, why don’t you come out to the coast and visit me for a while.”
If you’re not in prison
. I wanted to kick myself for the unbidden thought.

“I think that would be nice. But I need to get my finances straightened out first. You know, Alec’s scam and all that.”

I bit my lip to keep from blurting out that she should be more concerned that the rangers believe she was innocent of his murder. “I’m sure everything will work out. In the meantime, how about breakfast with me tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’ll call you when I get up.”

Though I warned myself against it, I glanced toward the reception desk before heading outside. Spencer and the blond were nowhere in sight. Someone else had taken her place. Now what? He’d better come up with something good.

I strolled outside into the still-bright summer evening, keeping a lookout for Emily. A young couple moseyed past, obviously in love. They reminded me of Rene and Conrad. I’d not seen them all day. Was spending so much time together right before the wedding a good thing? I’d think in Rene’s book of superstitions it would be anything but. Hopefully they wouldn’t end up fighting and calling the entire thing off. Again.

I was grateful I hadn’t run into them or been required to spend an overabundance of time with Rene. How could I investigate then? Add to that, a heavy cloud had moved in and hovered over me now. I wouldn’t want to bring her down.

Maybe the events of the last couple of days were finally taking their toll. I considered calling it quits and getting a good night’s sleep. But it was only seven. I had to make sure Spencer was not with the other woman. I almost laughed out loud as I moved to the stone rim overlooking the lake. So, things had come to this.