Chapter 3 #2
“Great, I just want to make sure I meet expectations.” The type of photographs needed for this event would test my abilities.
The largest events I’d handled in the past were local weddings.
But he seemed to think I fit the bill—at least as a temporary replacement.
“I saw on the news that your first photographer died. Did you know much about her?”
Now Charles failed to make eye contact. “I’d met her a few times. She was very good at her job, very professional, and so young to have died—mid-thirties, I think. Tragic.”
“She died recently, right? And they suspect murder.” I studied his reaction.
Charles's cheerful demeanor dropped, sorrow spreading over his face. He stepped aside to allow an elderly couple to pass between us. “I have doubts about the murder theory. But, yes. She died on Monday afternoon.”
"I'm so sorry that happened." I didn't pick up on anything aside from sadness from Charles. He wasn't angry nor scared, and his calm returned within a few moments.
He led me to the lounge and offered me a seat. “If you want to relax on a sofa for a moment, I need to make sure Haven Corp has set up the account for your room, and I’ll hunt down Armond for you.”
I watched Charles walk away. He stopped and helped a woman who’d dropped a file, then he allowed a young man in a wheelchair to go ahead of him at the concierge counter.
He was too perfect to be real. I shook my head.
None of this was what I’d expected when I woke up, and I needed a moment to process.
I closed my eyes, took in a slow breath, whispered a quiet prayer for guidance, then decided I'd just need to embrace the situation.
Once I had a moment to orient myself, I pulled my laptop and camera out of my bag to make a plan for which lenses would work best with the hotel’s lighting. But a stifled sob came from the sofa with its back to the one I sat on.
A planter filled with greenery separated the two sofas. When I pushed aside a few leaves, I found a little girl with curly black hair and freckles, nine or ten, attacking a workbook with an eraser. Frustration and fear emanated from her.
“I hate math,” she muttered. The paper she was using tore under her Hello Kitty eraser. “Oh, no!”
“Hey, do you need some help with that?” I asked. Back in college; helping kids with math was my favorite part of student teaching.
She sniffed again and looked at me, scrunching her nose. “Nobody can help me.”
“What about a math teacher?” I stood and walked around to her side of the sofa. "May I see what you’re working on?”
The little girl shrugged and shoved her workbook at me. “This is long division.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember learning this. It looks scary at first because we move the numbers all over the place, and it's confusing, right? May I?” I picked up her pencil and wrote an example problem in the margin of her assignment.
“My name’s Eva.” She frowned.
“Hi, Eva, I’m Jane. I studied teaching in college, and I know some cool tricks for long division.
First, remember to start by rounding your divisor and dividend…
right? Then you’re basically creating a new division problem.
So if you can round and do simple division, you’re really just repeating that process over and over. ”
Eva sniffed. “But I get confused about which number to choose.”
Dozens of other children required my assistance with the same thing. “That’s okay. Your remainder is your secret weapon because it gives you a clue. If it’s bigger than your divisor, you need to try again. But if not, you've got it.”
Eva muttered softly, “...I know how to round...maybe.”
A woman in a tweed suit approached us. She had the same dark curls as Eva. “I’m Jane. Are you okay if I help Eva with her long division?”
“By all means.” She smiled and nodded emphatically. “Goodness knows I haven’t been able to.”
I smiled and turned back to Eva, who was strangling her pencil again.
“But I still don’t get it. I told you this is long division, right?” Eva frowned.
“We’ll go one step at a time.” I started the problem over for her. “Remember the place value.”
“Place value? Let me try.” Eva erased the example problem and started again.
I clapped my hands. “You’re getting there. Keep practicing.”
But before I could assist any further, a middle-aged gentleman in a gray suit with slicked-back dark hair interrupted us.
“You must be the photographer I spoke to.” He glanced at my camera and reached out to shake my hand. So I stood and steered him away from Eva and her mother.
“Yes, I’m Jane. Are you…”
“I’m Armond Moreau—I help Haven Corporation with finances and such. I’ll be showing you what we need photos of.”
I shook his hand. “You have a lot going on this week.”
“I’d say. Well, I found a lovely photographer, at least,” Armond said while eyeing me, which made my skin crawl.
“Well, hopefully my photos meet everyone’s expectations. I can take video feeds as well,” I said. “So you’re the person I report to?”
“Yes, myself and Catalina, our events manager. We’ll need some photos of our prototypes, the high-profile investors, and our SaferLoc launch presentation. Also, any photos of you attractive young people will make Haven Corporation look successful.” He winked at me.
I shuddered. Whatever he was feeling was something I hadn't experienced before, but it wasn't pleasant.
Charles approached from behind carrying two cups of something warm, and I smiled at him. Armond smiled back at me, but his expression dissolved when he looked over his shoulder at Charles.
“Sorry I kept you waiting. Hot cider?” Charles said, offering me a cup. “Armond, I see you’ve met Jane.”
Armond turned his back to me, cutting me off from the conversation. “I was looking for you, Charles. We received some more news about Margery Blake.”
His comment piqued my interest. Despite everything going on, Margery had remained constantly hovering in the back of my mind. A coffee table blocked me from moving to the side, so I stood there, cornered behind Armond, and listened.
Charles stepped around Armond, bringing me back into the circle of communication and offering me ample space. “I’m not sure I follow. Like about the accident?”
“They’ve confirmed that it was murder.” Armond arched a thin, black brow.
“Sad… I’d hoped it was an accident.” Charles’s voice trailed off, and he remained silent for a moment.
Even though it was no surprise, a chill still ran down my spine. To think Margery would’ve been standing there instead of me if someone hadn’t taken her life. “Murder?”
“Right,” Armond continued. “Someone tampered with the brakes of her car. I thought you should know.”
Charles ran his hand over his face, frowning. “That’s horrible.”
Margery’s face from my dream flashed through my mind. She was trying to tell me something. I shared my thought. “Her killer is still out there.”
“No, no…” Armond started. “Well, probably. But it had nothing to do with Haven Corp.”
“Of course not.” Charles frowned. “But murder makes her death even more tragic.”
“I worry about the company, though,” Armond stated. “You know how stories get twisted around. We’ll need to keep this on the down low.”
“True…we’ll get to that. For now, maybe we can focus on doing something for her family. I can’t imagine losing a sister. I’ll contact Darcy.” Charles pulled out his phone and made a note to himself. Then he looked at me. “Sorry, Jane, I know this is pretty depressing.”
“It's not your fault.” I wanted to know more about Margery Blake, but asking didn't seem appropriate. She’d looked so frightened in my dream, and our connection was undeniable.
So I told myself I owed it to her to at least honor her memory somehow.
But it was beyond that…in my dream I experienced her feelings.
I lived them, and now part of her lived in me.
“Do you know that little girl?” Charles nodded toward Eva and her mom sitting a few yards behind us on the sofa.
“No, I was just helping her with her math.” I responded, though my mind was still on Margery. “You know, I almost went into teaching. I probably still will, actually.”
“I love that…” Charles’s face brightened. “Teachers are saints. You’d be among the best.”
“Anyhow,” Armond interrupted. “We have the SaferLoc launch coming up in about twenty minutes. You ready for this?”
“Yes.” I held up my camera.
“We’ll have Catalina guide you around the event so you know what to shoot.” Armond waved at a middle-aged woman with dark hair tinted red. “She’s our event planner.”
“Right.” I nodded and released a steady breath. So we’d moved on from discussing Margery.
Catalina crossed the lobby to us in seconds despite her impossibly high red heels. She reminded me of a news anchor, pristine, polished, and professional. “Oh good, you’ve got our photographer. Charles, what are you doing out here? You should be on the stage. Go.”
“Oh, right.” Charles looked at me apologetically and patted my shoulder. “Time to put on a show. I’ll be done pretty soon.”
I gave him my best encouraging smile, then turned to Catalina. “I’m all yours.”
“Now you’ll be on the floor level, which will be fine.
The stage is only a few feet from the ground.
Just get as many shots as you can, and we’ll sort out which to keep later.
Try to include the company logo and the SaferLoc images together.
Get some of the audience as well, investors like that.
And get shots of Charles too. He’s kind of our golden boy at the moment. ”
I bet he is.
I jogged to keep up with Catalina as we walked toward the main conference area. A set of double doors led to the grand room, which was already filled with crowds of professionals in business attire.
“Go ahead and choose a place to stand.” Catalina waved as if she were shooing me away.