Camera Never Lies (27 page)

Two guys who stood apart from the group and near the woods where we entered the circle noticed our approach.

Spencer whispered, “I don’t see Ranger Jennings or Peter.”

The taller of the volunteers frowned, whereas the shorter one smiled and marched over to meet us. “Did you guys get left behind on the island or something? What are you doing here?” He took a drink from his cup.

I caught a whiff—unmistakably beer. “Um…we’re looking for Ranger Jennings and Peter.”

Spencer gave me a sharp look, presumably to remind me he wanted to be in control. I didn’t recall agreeing.

The guy’s smile flattened. “Haven’t seen them.”

I could feel Spencer tense. “Now see here, are you saying that the man who brings you to this island isn’t here?”

“That’s not what I said. I just haven’t seen him since we got here. Do you need to get back? Because you’re welcome to hang out with us until it’s time to go.”

Spencer had already started back through the woods. I followed. The sun would be setting soon, and I feared we’d have to use the flashlight after all. “Where should we go now? I don’t want to get lost on this island and be left here all night.”

“Fortunately it’s not that big. The way I see it, we have two choices. We can walk the shore, or we can take a trail.”

Wait a minute. I stopped in my tracks, trying to capture the thought hovering just out of my reach. “If I were Peter, I’d probably go to a high point somewhere.” Peter had taken me to the lookout the day before; I figured he had a preference for nice views. There was also his comment about a murder looking like an accident should someone fall.

“There’s only one of those on this island. If I’m remembering correctly, the cliff is on the other side though. Come on.” He glanced back to make sure I would follow.

“Why are we running?” I knew we needed to hurry, but I wasn’t sure I could run the steep trail he was leading me on.

“Save your breath, Polly.”

He was right. Eventually we both found ourselves out of breath and unable to do much more than hike up the strenuous trail. A steep climb would mean we should find the cliff soon enough. I decided that my idea to take up running at home would not be enough to keep me in shape. But then again, I would probably not venture back to this national park. Ever again.

Spencer put his finger over his lips. We crept out into the clearing—a viewpoint overlooking the lake. There at the edge, just as I’d suspected, stood two men. My heart rate soared, pulsing in my throat. I couldn’t know for certain that Peter had murdered Alec, yet here I was about to make that accusation. They hadn’t seen us yet. They were caught up in their conversation, which appeared calmer than I’d expected, given Hillary’s urgent fear her husband was going to inflict bodily harm on Peter. However, I was more concerned that Peter would decide an accident was in order.

Spencer made to step forward. I pulled him back and shook my head then whispered, “No, I need to be the one to do this.”

I’d seen the body, and I’d known Alec. Before he could reply, I jogged forward. Both men jerked their heads toward me.

“You don’t have to do this.” The words spilled out before I knew it. Both men appeared confused to see me. At that moment, getting them away from the cliff’s edge was all I could think about.

“Stay out of this, you meddling—” Ranger Jennings scrunched his lips as though he was biting back a host of uncomplimentary words.

Peter stumbled forward. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t stumble the wrong way.

Ranger Jennings steadied him as he addressed me. “What are you doing? How did you get here?”

“Hillary was worried and wanted me to find you.”

“Why would she send you?”

“Because I know what Peter did, and she was afraid for you.”

Peter stumbled again, and I realized he’d had too much to drink. He grabbed Ranger Jennings. “I’m sorry I fell in love with your wife. I’ve tried to fight it.”

Ranger Jennings’s jaw tensed, but he kept his focus on me. “This is a private matter. Now, if you’ll please go back the way you came. I know everything there is to know.”

The two men were acting strangely. I suspected that Ranger Jennings wasn’t pointing the murder finger at his friend. “You know that Peter killed Alec Gordon?”

“I didn’t do it, Cliff, I swear it.” Peter plopped to the ground. “I learned months ago that you and Hillary were having trouble. One night you’d had too much to drink, and you told me you were considering leaving her. That’s when I figured I could wait things out. I’d be there for her when she needed me. But then she’d turned to that scoundrel, Alec.”

“Enough of this.” Ranger Jennings tugged him to his feet.

Peter stared at his friend, if you could call him that. “I even told you about her affair with Alec, thinking you’d leave her sooner and eventually she’d see the light and dump that good-for-nothing… “ Peter sagged. “But you ignored it.”

I’d been so caught up watching Peter, that I hadn’t noticed Ranger Jennings standing back, left hand palming his gun. This was exactly what I’d wanted to avoid, the reason I’d come. But there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.

Ranger Jennings said nothing. He waited, as though expecting Peter to say more. Or perhaps he was waiting for him to confess to the murder? “What makes you think he killed Alec Gordon?” He directed his words to me.

I’d hoped that by simply confronting Peter, he would confess. I didn’t have too much to go on, so I tried another approach. “Peter, you went into the room, found him on the floor, and thought you’d finish him off, right?”

“No! That’s not what happened.”

Ranger Jennings stiffened. “Go on.”

“The afternoon of the murder, I took my break and came back to the lodge. I was in the hall when I saw Hillary run from a room in hysterics. I knew who she was running from, and I wanted to kill the man for hurting her. All I could think about was punching his lights out. I ran into the room and found him lying on the floor, unconscious.” A sob broke from his lips.

Spencer gripped my shoulder and squeezed. I held my breath, waiting for the confession that was sure to follow. A motorboat whirred in the distance.

“With one blow, I could get rid of two people who were hurting Hillary. I thought you’d be arrested—no one had a greater reason to kill Alec than the man whose wife was cheating on him. I’m sorry. I should never have considered it. You’re my friend. Please forgive me.”

Even in the waning light, I could see the grievous expression on Ranger Jennings’s face as he shook his head. “I still love my wife, whatever trouble we may have. I’d never leave her, no matter what. And now, though it hurts me to do this, I have to arrest you for the murder of Alec Gordon.”

“What? Wait! I didn’t do it. I couldn’t go through with it.”

Stunned that he’d try to deny it at this juncture, I stepped in again. “Look, we know you were in the room. You confessed you were there, and even if you didn’t confess, the scent of cloves was there. Something I smelled on you before. You smoke clove cigarettes.”

Peter sobered. “I do no such thing.”

Doubt began gnawing at me. What if Emily had killed Alec and lied to us?

I looked out over the water and made out George’s boat heading away. “Spencer, George is leaving.”

Emily burst from the woods, breathless. She held up a shovel. “It was George. He killed Alec.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

R
anger Jennings appeared to tighten his grip on Peter. “How do you know?”

“He was putting clove oil on a cut on his hand. Like an idiot I blurted out about smelling cloves at the crime scene. George stopped what he was doing and stared at me. All of a sudden, I knew it was him. He was the one who killed Alec Gordon.” A sob escaped. “And I could see by the look on his face that George knew I knew. I grabbed the shovel for protection and jumped out of the boat.”

Emily paused to catch her breath and shuddered. “I barely got away, but as soon as I was on the dock, he took off.” She gazed at the shovel, as though only now realizing she’d carried it all the way up the hill. But who could blame her? The girl was scared to death.

Stunned, I looked at Peter, feeling guilty and embarrassed that I’d accused him.

He scowled at me, hurt in his eyes. “His wife had given me clove oil for a nasty burn. That’s what you smelled on me that day.”

“Let’s go.” Ranger Jennings led the way.

All five of us trekked down the hill. It was growing dark fast. Although Ranger Jennings and Peter still had much to resolve, for now, a murderer had to be caught. Peter stayed with us while Ranger Jennings arranged for someone else to give the rim volunteers a ride back.

The boat took off, churning through the water. By now we operated fully on headlights, but Peter and the ranger knew the lake well enough. Once at the dock, they had to leave us, because I wasn’t able to keep up. Spencer assured them he would see us to safety. They left to run after George.

I thought I knew who’d committed the murder, but I’d missed the smallest of clues. I’d thought of George as a friend of sorts. He’d even driven us to the island.

Why had he killed Alec Gordon? The questions raged, and I still had to hike up the trail. Once we were back at the lodge, we found Rene, Conrad, and Mom waiting for us in the lobby. They’d witnessed George’s arrest. After many warm hugs and much explaining, we bade each other good night. Mom and Emily went with me to my room.

Somehow, now that the murder was resolved, I felt the experience was anticlimactic. I’m not sure what I’d expected from my first attempt at sleuthing, but it had been a complete disappointment, except, of course, for the fact that Mom was no longer a suspect.

But lest my heart grow hard, I reminded myself that Alec Gordon had been murdered this weekend. I’d spoken to him beforehand, which had brought up the bitterness I’d held toward him. Maybe God had given me that opportunity to set my heart right. In lieu of that, I realized now, I’d also wanted to solve his murder as a way to redeem myself from my own crime—a crime of the heart.

Only Jesus could redeem me, could set me free. Finally I allowed Him to do just that. I forgave Alec, though already gone, and asked God to forgive me. While I was on the path of recovery, I also forgave Spencer for hurting me all those years ago. I put the ghosts from my past to rest.

The next morning was Sunday—W-day. Rene would be wed to Conrad in a few hours. After breakfast we headed to the parking lot. Still reeling from my failure to pin the murder on the right person, I was surprised when Ranger Jennings approached while we piled into cars to attend the nearest church service.

He stuck out his hand. “I wanted to thank you.”

A bit startled, I took it. “For what?”

“George Hamilton wasn’t even a suspect. Without your nosing around, I’m not sure we would have caught Alec Gordon’s killer. At least as soon as we did.”

The heat of embarrassment flooded my face. “I was glad to do it.”

Hillary’s whack with the lamp hadn’t killed Alec. Instead, George’s shovel—the very same one he’d had on the boat—had done the gruesome deed. Apparently George wasn’t one to stand by and watch people hurt others. He’d already been searching for Alec with a quarrel stuffed in his pocket just like his rag, when he found him on the floor. He’d been planting trees in the atrium inside the lodge that day and carried the shovel with him. For some inexplicable reason, he’d moved Alec into the closet after banging him on the head with the shovel. Maybe he’d planned to retrieve the body later and bury it somewhere in the vast park.

Early on, I’d compared Mom and myself to pawns in a game. I was thankful she’d not participated in this one. With so many people coming in and out of the same room, I’d pictured that door opening and closing as if revolving. But though they’d all seen the body, they hadn’t seen each other. It reminded me of the movie
Clue
, the comedy based on the board game.

I still didn’t want to believe that George had committed murder. But George had lost many jobs due to his temper, a side of him I hadn’t seen except in the one photograph—the one George had tried to destroy on my computer and camera.

After church, we made the mad dash back to the lodge, where Emily and I assisted Rene with her dress. Rene had joined in my cause to help Emily. She seemed less anxious now, if only a little. We gladly included her in the wedding ceremony. Emily would stand in for Ronni. Rene thought it would make quite a story to tell their children. I was more than glad, because I hadn’t had time to locate the sort of tripod I’d need to both photograph the wedding and stand up as her maid of honor. A more-than-dashing Spencer in his tuxedo gave me trouble concentrating as it was.

Wedding vows were said and before I knew it, Spencer, Mom, Emily, and I were in the parking lot, bidding Rene and Conrad farewell. They planned to hike the Pacific Trail. Certainly not something I’d want for a honeymoon, and I suspected even with Spencer’s many travels, it wasn’t his cup of tea either.

Though the wedding was a small, formal event, Ranger Jennings and Hillary had been invited to attend. After watching the lovebirds get married, Hillary shared that she and Cliff planned to get marriage counseling.