Page 24 of Jane's Story
Charles shook his head slightly. “My job? Oh…maybe the CEO bit. I don’t think he was interested in engineering. What about Margery? Any connection to Armond you can think of?”
“Everyone kind of knew Margery. As the photographer, she moved around the company and talked to all of us.” Owen’s gaze was unfocused. “We all liked her. She was pretty and outgoing. I doubt she had a special connection to Armond. He wasn’t the type of guy she’d be interested in, and their jobs didn’t overlap much. I enjoyed talking to her. She came to lunch with us a few times backat headquarters.”
But there had to be a motive. In the mystery books I’d read as a teenager, being a witness made people targets for murderers. “Since she knew everyone, do you think she might have stumbled across a secret she wasn't supposed to know about?”
“I guess if anyone were to uncover someone’s secrets, Margery would be the one.” Charles’s brow creased, and he rubbed his chin. “But what kind of secret is that serious?”
“I guess it depends on who you ask. What did you think of her, Kyle?” I asked. Realizing Charles would be in less danger from someone hoping to silence witnesses. In his eyes, everyone was innocent. But it also meant he might miss important clues.
Kyle shrugged. “She was kind of out of my league. I didn’t get to know her very well. She liked animals, volunteered or something.”
Charles patted Kyle’s shoulder. “Maybe we’re grasping at straws. You were up in my suite after lunch. That’s where it happened. Did you see anything?”
“Up in your suite? Let me think. We picked up the plans for SaferLoc, ran into Lance—he was steaming about something. And heard him and Armond arguing aboutthe budget and how it would look bad.” Owen lifted his palms and shrugged.
“Do you think Lance could’ve had anything to do with what happened?” I asked.
“Lance was upset, but not murderous or anything.” Kyle shifted in his seat, looking around the lobby. “How’d Armond die, anyway?”
“Drugged, maybe,” I said.
“Really? I’m surprised they haven’t shut the place down. There’s a murderer on the loose.” Owen lowered his voice and looked over his shoulder.
“Shutting the place down might cause the suspect to flee. Plus, the police can’t prove someone murdered Armond yet. They’re acting like it was natural until they have the autopsy report,” Charles explained. “Since this obviously involves all of us, Jane and I are trying to find clues and details.”
Charles must not have suspected Owen at all. He revealed more than I would have.
“I wish I’d been paying better attention,” Owen sighed. “We can try to keep our eyes and ears open as well.”
“Anything you remember might help,” I chimed in. “But not just about Armond. Margery'scase is likely connected. I suspect maybe she saw or took photos of something she wasn’t supposed to see.”
Chapter 9
Vanillaandfallleavesscented the lobby, and the Christmas tree had to be close to thirty feet high. Even though the Grand Lake’s tree had orange leaves and white pumpkins for autumn, it still brought back memories of childhood Christmases. My mother used to decorate our tree at home in aNutcrackertheme, with white lights, ballet figurines, and satin ribbons. Lizzy and I took ballet lessons for a few years as children, and we danced as sugar plum fairies. I always wanted to be Clara, but ballet lessons got too expensive for a family of five girls. Though I wouldn’t trade my sisters for the world, I did miss dancing.
Charles watched Owen and Kyle walk back toward the conference hall. I’d never seen such a somber expression on his face. I attempted to comfort him, resting my hand on his arm. “Charles, maybe we can go for a walk for a while or something. We both need a mental break.”
He turned and focused his ocean eyes on mine, and his solemn expression softened. “You know, there’s nothing I’d rather do right now. But first I need to check with the concierge to make sure that all of Armond’s business mail is forwarded to me.”
I caught sight of Eva sitting alone with a workbook again. “Good, that will give a minute to check on my ‘student’.”
Eva didn’t notice me until I stood right in front of her. “Jane, you’re here! Guess what? My mom said if I can get good at long division, she’ll let me get my nails done at the spa.”
“Wow, that’s quite the reward. Better figure it out then. Want some help?” I sat down next to her on the sofa.
“Yes! I don’t understand. What happens if I get a really big remainder?” She glared at her workbook as if it had stolen her lunch money.
“Well, your remainder is just your leftover number, remember? So if it's too big, that means you can fit your divisor into the dividend one or two more times. Sometimes kids want to just keep moving on if the remainder is too big, but that will give you more of a headache later. It’sworth taking your time to check.” I gave her a sideways smile and shrugged.
She pushed out her lower lip. “Checking is hard.”
“I know. Have you mastered all of your multiplication and division facts?” When students struggled with longer concepts, I could usually guarantee they hadn’t mastered their math facts.
“Well, the sixes, sevens, and eights are hard… oh, and the twelves.” She frowned. Her missing canine teeth and slightly rounded cheeks reminded me how young she really was.
“Okay, I’m going to give you a website that I had my students use. It turns math facts into a game, and you can focus on the ones that are hard to remember. Just check with your mom or dad before getting online. If I see you again, I want you to tell me what you think of it. Deal?” I held out my pinky finger—the universal kid sign for making a serious promise.
Eva shook my pinky with hers. “Deal.”
