Page 49 of Jane's Story
“What are you talking about?” Owen laughed. “Then why haven’t the police arrested the murderer?”
Darcy furrowed his brow and looked between the two of them.
Charles shrugged and sipped his drink. “These things take time. It could have been anyone in the whole hotel, and they’re being discreet.”
“Well, are you going to tell us?” Owen reclined back in his chair.
“Are you playing games with us?” Lance grumbled, narrowing his eyes. “None of this is very entertaining, Charles.”
“Oh, I promise this is not a game,” Charles shook his head. “I’m only trying to take precautions and be respectful. Jane, would you care to share the photos you took?”
I pulled a file of eight-by-ten photos I’d printed, along with the photos I collected from the hotel manager, and placed it on the table. “As you know, I’ve been taking photos of everything over the last few days. You may all remember last night I accompanied Charles to the gala, and I also took a series of photos of him with employees. They turned out very well.”
“You were investigating. That’s no secret.” Ashley rolled her eyes, and her anger flared.
“Fair enough.” I placed a photo of the eighteenth floor on the table. “Someone at this table booked the third penthouse suite and stole a keycard to access the eighteenth floor on Thursday afternoon. You see these double doors on the right side of the hallway? Each suite has a set the housekeepers use to access the upper floors.”
Silence fell around the table. It seemed everyone had at least a sip of water, so any lies shouldbe inhibited.
“But who, and why?” Charles helped me along with the narrative. He stood next to me as I placed a series of photos on the table.
“You’re getting to that. Right, Jane?” Darcy asked.
I nodded and held up a picture, gulping. “Bear with me. At first we thought the specifications were giving accidental credit to all the engineers. But when we looked closer, we found that most of the altered specs give Owen credit for work done by both Charles and Kyle. If no one uncovered the mistake, Owen would be five hundred thousand to a million dollars richer. The hotel lobby security cameras captured this photo when the third suite was booked. You can see it was indeed Armond who booked it.”
Catalina rolled her eyes. “What are you getting at? These things are unrelated. If Armond booked the suite, then he was obviously hiding something.”
“We think he was the original killer.” I shrugged and placed another photo on the table. “This one is of the parking garage security on the day Margery died. Though whoever tampered with her car wore a mask, Armond shouldn’t have been in the parking garage at all. He said he took the day off, but if you look closely there, you’ll see him in the garage before he puts his mask on.”
“Well, that solves it then,” Catalina said, clapping her hands. “Really, great job. I guess maybe Armond killed himself?
“No.” Charles shook his head sadly.
“Why would Armond want Margery dead? He had no reason, but he was working with someone who did and was hoping for a hefty payout. Owen, did you know Margery and Armond knew about the issues on the specs? I mean, if they turned you in, that could get between you and up to a million dollars, right?” I asked.
Owen raised his hands. “No, I swear. I didn’t ask either of them to alter the specs.”
I hoped the dishonesty inhibitor had kicked in. From my understanding, it should have a fairly instant effect. The group sat in silence for a moment, eyes shifting from one person to another. I propped my phone against my dinner clutch as if I’d absentmindedly placed it there.
“You all realize she’s accusing me of murder,” Owen broke the silence, and I sensed his anger turning into rage. I chill washed down my spine.
“Well, it’s no secret you wanted a new boat, Owen.” Lance growled at him with furrowed brows. “But I didn’t realize you wantedit that badly.”
Catalina’s voice shook as she spoke up, her fear now through the roof. “Now hold on a moment. What would any of this have to do with Kyle? Owen didn’t kill anyone. You all know him. He’s a good person.”
“But what about his wife? Maybe she needed the money. I mean, if Owen had a sudden windfall, it would be hers as well, right?” I asked as I placed a final photo on the table. It was only a guess, but if I was right, it would explain everything.
Owen grumbled something under his breath as a server returned to the room to refill a few drinks. As they walked away from the table, the server tripped and fell face first onto the floor. His tray of glasses and carafes flew across the room and crashed into the closest wall. If we hadn’t planned it ahead of time, I’d have had a mini heart attack.
Charles dashed over to help the server to his feet. Ashley clapped her hands over her mouth and watched. Lance pushed his chair away from the table to help Charles and the server. Then Owen followed suit. I turned my body and pretended to be engrossed in the scene. But I kept my camera rolling, with my phone casually in my hand, aimed at the table.
It took a couple of minutes to clean up, then the group returned to the conversation. I replayed a bit of the video as I pretended to be responding to some texts.
“We were all going to look at the photo Jane placed on the table. Where did it go?” Charles asked.
“The photo of my ‘wife’?” Owen made fake quotation marks with his fingers. He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.
We all looked around the table, but the photo was missing. But I caught the thief on my screen.
