Chapter 3 #4
“I think she moved here from California or something. She was new to the city.” Kyle jumped into the conversation while adjusting his glasses.
Those in combination with his elaborate mustache reminded me of one of those comical disguises from costume shops.
“I chatted with her for a while when she was shooting the SaferLoc specs.”
“Right, I was there, too. She hoped to advance her career in New York,” Owen chimed in. “I guess none of us knew her well, though. She’d only been with us for a few weeks. Anyway, hopefully the police will figure out who did that to her brakes.”
Kyle turned to me and arched a brow. He twisted the end of his mustache between his fingers. “So, Jane. Tell us how you know Charles.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak because I was so stunned at their casual responses. I blinked a few times. “We met…”
A pair of servers returned with plates piled high with pasta, glazed salmon, and sautéed vegetables, giving me a moment to compose myself. But they were quickly gone again.
“You were saying?” Kyle asked again as he took a bite of ravioli.
“We met in Austen Heights. He stayed there for a while. It’s a small town, and my family is very social.” It was as ambiguous as I could be about the status of our relationship.
“Small-town girl, then? What do you think of New York?” Kyle studied me as if I were some kind of novelty.
“I’m familiar with the city. I’ve stayed here often with my aunt and uncle. It’s a lot louder than Austen Heights. But people are people wherever you go,” I said, twirling my fork in the fettuccine in front of me.
“I loved Austen Heights,” Charles said. “Best place in the world, if you ask me. I’d like to go back sometime.”
His comment was vague, but it made me smile to hear him praise my hometown. However, it would have helped if he’d included me in his reasons for wanting to return. It was impossible to know whether he was referring to his time with me, or just the town in general.
“Sounds wholesome,” Kyle said. “The world could use more of that.”
Catalina scrolled through her phone and grimaced. “I can’t believe this. The caterer is out of mushroom souffle and we’ll have to settle for spinach tomorrow.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, Catalina.” Charles didn’t smile at her distress, but his dimples emerged and his turquoise eyes gleamed. “I appreciate how hard you’ve worked to make this entire event amazing.”
“I’m impressed. Did you organize this whole conference?” I asked Catalina. She seemed to need a pick-me-up. Though I would have expected her mind to be on more important things, like Margery Blake.
She gave me an anemic smile. “Most of it, yes. Of course, there are other people who help. The entire goal is to unify the company and land a few more investors. But arranging it is a lot of work.”
“I can’t imagine what it takes,” I said. “I’ve been to art and photography conferences before, but they were never on this scale.”
“Look over there by the window,” Armond said out of the blue, and everyone obeyed. He cleared his throat. “Those are some of our potential investors. We’ll want to make a good impression on them.”
I recognized some of the businesspeople across the room. They were heavily engaged in conversation. “Oh, good. I got some photos of them at the launch.”
“Most of them are venture capitalists. They know security hardware, software, and technology are always hot. I mean, the need for security isn’t going anywhere.” Kyle shrugged. “You worry too much, Armond.”
“Some of the new things we’re rolling out will be game changers for the industry.” Owen glanced at the table of investors. “All we need is for Charles to do his magic and charm them into signing contracts.”
Charles’s magic. Owen’s comment had to be coincidental. Most of us with fae abilities tried to hide our status outside of Austen Heights, especially those like Charles because people might exploit his healing ability. I suspected Charles and I were the only fae in the hotel.
After finishing a third of the food on my plate, I couldn’t take another bite, and everyone else seemed to be done eating as well.
“Charles, Armond, I think I’ll head to my room and get settled.
” I wasn’t sure I needed a hotel room since my photography assignment seemed close to wrapping up.
But I wanted to give them some time to attend to business and give myself time to look over the product launch photos to make sure I’d approached the subject properly.
More importantly, I needed time alone. My fae intuition was trying to tell me something about this group of people—this entire situation, but my thoughts weren’t clear yet.
“Of course,” Charles answered. “Do you want to meet me back down here in a while? If you have your camera, there may be some photo ops.”
“Sure. That’s what I’m here for.” A twinge of hopeful energy rushed through me, reminding me of our time together in Austen Heights. At the time, we seemed to be heading toward a serious relationship. If only I could make sense of him now.
“Meet me back here in an hour?” he asked.
“An hour it is.”
I expected a standard hotel room. But my jaw dropped as I entered my door. Charles had reserved a two-story suite for me. I explored the whole thing at once.
The main floor consisted of a grand foyer with a black and white chessboard floor.
A glass entry table boasting a vase of fresh flowers stood against the wall beneath a gold-framed mirror.
The powder room with its own chandelier was located just beyond the entry, followed by an art déco-style living room, and a full kitchen.
A garden-themed hot tub and wicker furniture sat outside on a rooftop patio.
I may have squeaked. This was far more space than I needed, and I still needed to see the second floor.
I scaled the wrought-iron spiral staircase leading to two spacious bedrooms upstairs.
Each room was a mixture of fluffy white featherbeds, shiny marble bathrooms, and private balconies looking out over the city.
It would have been perfect if I had had someone to share it with.
So I snapped a dozen or so photos to share with my family.
I chose the bedroom with the writing desk, and I gave myself a few minutes to breathe and take in my surroundings.
If Lizzy could see this, she'd have a heart attack. After organizing my bags, I pulled out my laptop to review the photos from the launch. As expected, they were highly satisfactory, and those of Charles were mostly perfect. Though I couldn’t help but chuckle at the few where his eyes were closed—I guess he was a normal guy after all. Almost, anyway.
I sent a quick text to Lizzy:
So your “gut feeling” seems more like a covert operation. Not sure what to think. You knew Charles would be here.
Well, you know. Forgiveness is easier than permission.
Sure… but watch out for karma. Maybe I’ll have to arrange a surprise set up for you. Love you.
Haha! I still think you’re going to have an amazing trip.
Lizzy must have known I couldn't be mad at her even if I tried.
I tucked myself into the writing desk and did another internet search for Margery Blake.
So far, the search results listed few details about the murder, but someone posted an obituary.
Kyle was right. She’d only recently moved to New York from California.
The obituary listed her parents, a brother, and a sister as her survivors.
Despite being close to forty, she had no husband or partner, no children.
In my little gray notebook etched with pink and gold flowers, I added a page for Margery Blake.
Her professional profile revealed a pretty woman with shoulder-length brown hair and large dark eyes.
She’d posted many of her professional photographs of architecture, tourist spots, nature scenes, high-end weddings, and political or business events, but didn’t have a huge following.
The adjective that popped into my mind to describe her was lonely.
“We haven’t forgotten you, Margery,” I whispered, touching my laptop screen. “I’m sorry this happened.”
A door in my suite slammed shut, and I jumped out of my skin.
“Hello,” I called. Even though it wasn’t unusual to hear doors in a hotel, my heart still raced.
Just in case, I grabbed a heavy paperweight and treaded through my bedroom door and down the hallway.
I checked the neighboring bedroom, the bathrooms, and descended the spiral staircase, expecting to find an innocent housekeeper.
But the entire place was empty, and the deadbolt still secured the main door.
The slamming door had to be from the neighboring suite.
Laughing at myself, I returned to my bedroom, gave up my internet search, closed my laptop, grabbed my camera bag, and set off for the lobby. But before I made it to the elevator, I found Charles standing in the hallway outside my suite. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself.
I caught, “…but the cylinders don’t match…” before he looked up and saw me.
“New invention?” I asked.
“Yes, guess it’s pretty obvious how my brain works?
” He smiled and scratched his head. Mild embarrassment flavored his mood.
If I had the chance to reply freely, I would’ve told him no, I had no idea what he was thinking, and it was making me crazy.
But he kept speaking. “I’d like a few photos of the prototype if Armond doesn’t have you working on something. ”
“I’m getting the impression that the product launch was all he needed me for. So I’ll take anything else you’ve got—I need to justify staying in this fancy suite you booked.” I held up my camera bag.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. My room is the one next to yours. I have the prototype inside. Do you mind?” He led me several yards down the hallway and used a keycard to open a suite door.
“I didn’t realize we were neighbors. Does everyone at Haven Corp have a suite?” Though I didn’t see how that could be possible.
“Uh, no. I’m sharing this one with a few of the guys: Armond, Owen, and Lance. He was the guy on stage before me. I guess Kyle and most of the others wanted private rooms.”
The two-story suite was twice the size of mine.
A marble and white kitchen, a mid-century modern living room, an office area sequestered off by glass paneling, and a set of stairs which probably led to a few bedrooms spanned the area.
A cool breeze and the sound of traffic filled the air, likely because the nearby balcony doors were cracked open.
I rubbed my arms, wishing I’d brought a sweater.
“Chilly,” I muttered.
“Hmm, looks like someone wanted the patio doors open. Maybe you can set up your camera in the office, and I’ll go grab the prototype.” Charles scurried past me and up the marble stairs.
I let myself into the well-lit office to scope out the space, dreaming of what it might be like to come here with him as his wife with children of our own, unpacking our luggage and ordering hot chocolate before taking in the sights in New York City.
Oh, Jane, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. I needed a reality check.
I closed the glass office door behind me to block off the cool breeze and checked out the angles of the room with a variety of lenses in the lighting. For a few minutes, I focused on my work. But Charles still hadn’t returned.
He might have needed to use the restroom. So I waited a bit longer. After several more minutes passed, alarms sounded in my mind.
“Charles?” I didn’t yell but tried to magnify my soft voice as I exited the office. No answer. This wasn’t like him. I pulled out my phone and got it ready to call 911. “Charles, are you okay?”
I padded upstairs toward the bedrooms and peered inside the one with an open door. It took me a minute to see it, and then I screamed.