The Camera Never Lies

by David Rawlings

  Tears cascaded down Simon’s face. “I am so proud of you. Now, how would you like to save more than just one family?”

  Twenty-Six

  Daniel stood just inside his mother’s front door and wished she could stay on the point. He needed to arm himself with as much information about Gramps’s camera as possible before he picked up his photos and confronted Simon.

  “How are you and Kelly?”

  “We have our moments, but we’re busy people. A lot of families are like us right now. It’s the modern world.”

  “You were always good at turning things into an academic argument, and you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Of course we’re doing well. Work’s great. Just had our thousandth couple.”

  His mother smiled. “You’ve worked so hard, and everything was set up by your wonderful book.” A shiver ran up Daniel’s spine. “And you still didn’t answer my question.”

  “We’re having some trouble, but we’ll work through it.”

  His mother reached up to stroke his cheek. “Thank you. I’m glad, because I’m worried about Milly. She looks like you did at twelve, just before your father left. You withdrew into yourself and kept asking how your dad could love another woman.”

  Daniel winced at the sting from the memory. He became a marriage counselor to stop anyone else from feeling the pain he had when his family home fell quiet one night and stayed quiet. Then a chill washed over him as Milly’s innocent accusation raised its head. She couldn’t have seen him holding Anna’s hand that night, because he hadn’t. She must have seen the photo, but how? And what else had she seen?

  His mother wasn’t finished. “And I’m really concerned about her schooling, Daniel. I’ve asked her a few times now about her school report, and she keeps avoiding the question. She has always been such a good student. What about her scholarship? Won’t that put extra pressure on your finances?”

  Daniel absorbed the barrage of questions from his mother with a sense of annoyed urgency. He needed to get her back on track. “I think by tomorrow I’ll have some answers to what’s bugging Milly. Anyway, I need to know more about Gramps’s camera.”

  His mother folded her hands. “Something has been bothering me since you mentioned it. Who would take a photo of him with a betting slip?”

  “I don’t know. Probably Garth.”

  “So why wouldn’t Garth tell me?”

  “Sometimes coming to terms with things is the hardest part of being honest with people. Maybe he didn’t want us to think badly of Gramps. So, back to the camera—when did he get it?”

  “Ten years ago, maybe? When he first got it he took photos of everyone around him but showed them to no one. He was so possessive of it but so generous with everything else.”

  “Do you know where he got it?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Daniel deflated. Another dead end.

  His mother clicked her fingers. “Although if you asked Garth, he would almost certainly know.”

  * * *

  Daniel strode up the well-kept path that wound its way to the neat ground-floor apartment. He breathed in the smell of fresh paint on the front door and the perfume wafting from large pots filled with flashes of color. Then he glanced down at a mat that welcomed friends to this home. The photographs in Gramps’s photo album flashed back to him. Garth, slumped in the doorway in a back alley, broken teeth jagging at all angles below a beanie jammed down over wispy white hair. Homeless.

  He had just ten minutes until his photos would be ready.

  The front door opened to a beaming grin of pearly white teeth above a crisp, white linen shirt and a full head of white hair slicked to one side.

  Well, that answered that. That photo must have been Garth’s time volunteering in some kind of homeless program.

  “Come in, come in, boy!” Garth ushered Daniel into a hallway with a floor rug that ran in perfect symmetry down the middle of polished floorboards. Daniel followed Garth into a small kitchen with a laminated table and two vinyl chairs pushed up against the far wall.

  Garth strode to the stove. “Would you care for coffee?”

  “I can’t stay, Garth, but—”

  Garth pulled out two coffee mugs. “It’s a little lonely without my regular bridge partner, but when you get to this age, saying good-bye to your friends is just a normal part of life.”

  “We all miss him terribly.”

  Garth placed a steaming mug in front of Daniel. “There’s not much left of him apart from memories . . . or photos.”

  The perfect opportunity. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. He left me his camera.” He left the sentence hanging to see if any expression developed. It didn’t.

  “He went everywhere with that camera. Mind you, he let nobody use it. I picked it up one day, and he got very angry.”

  Daniel felt the sinking disappointment of another approaching dead end. “I’m trying to find out more about why it was a special camera.”

  Again he left the sentence hanging like a fishhook. Garth didn’t rise to the bait.

  “I’m so pleased you came to visit. I rarely have people in my home.”

  That final word echoed in Daniel’s head. Home. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Thirty years. Joan passed ten years ago next month.”

  Thirty years. That was it, then. He’d never lived on the streets.

  Garth’s eyes glazed over as he fell into a river of nostalgia. “One thing about your Gramps is that the older he got, the clearer his vision became. He could see through you like you were made of glass. You couldn’t hide anything from him.”

  Daniel built up enough silence for Garth to fill the space with information. It worked.

  “I’m glad he could. I had a drinking problem, you know. At first it was to cope with losing Joan, and I had a glass of wine to manage the loneliest of nights. But then it became a way for me to manage the toughest of days. Then just any day. I didn’t realize how much it was managing me.”

  Daniel took a deep mouthful of too-hot coffee and choked as he swallowed the burning liquid. He had to move Garth along.

  “I was hiding my drinking from everyone. No one knew, or so I thought. Then one day your Gramps sat me down—in that very chair you’re sitting in—and told me he could see my heart and how I would end up if I kept drinking.”

  See my heart . . . Another forced gulp of burning coffee.

  “Gordon told me if I kept going, I would end up on the street, lonely and alone. Sleeping in back alleys in the cold, leaning against doors. And he told me he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he could see me heading down that path and did nothing about it. Thank goodness I listened.”

  Daniel stared into his coffee mug as time slowed.

  The photos couldn’t be real. They couldn’t show the truth.

  Garth looked around his little kitchen. “I could have lost everything, but he stepped in. To this day I have no idea how he knew.”

  But Daniel did. He just couldn’t believe it.

  Twenty-Seven

  The rhythmic tapping of Kelly’s fingernails on the meeting table drew a raised eyebrow from Jasmine. “You look different. Patch things up with Daniel?”

  Kelly held her breath as, from the doorway, Arnold surveyed the seats for their team meeting. He took the one closest to the door, and Kelly breathed again. The unoccupied chair next to her stayed unoccupied. “No, but I am working my way through a few things.”

  Arnold clapped for the attention of a team glued to their cell phones. “People, we’re just waiting for the new addition to our team . . . Here she is now.”

  A young woman, blond tresses flowing over her salmon-pink suit jacket and crisp white blouse, surveyed the room for a seat. The blonde from the stage who looked like Monique. She excused her way into the room and headed directly for Kelly, who moved her chair over a bit, not to give her newest colleague space, but herself. Even up close, this young woman was impossible perfectio
n, all angles and curves in the right places.

  Jasmine elbowed her as she reached a welcoming hand across to their newest team member.

  Arnold called back their attention. “Tiffany will join us in a new role of serving the clinics in the west of our city.”

  Tiffany flashed a flawless smile around the room, and Kelly aged twenty years in an instant. Then the impact of Arnold’s statement arrived in a rush. The clinics in the west belonged to her.

  Arnold thumbed through his iPad. “The CEO has asked all team leaders to read through this memo. It would appear that one of our city’s clinics has called R&D about these scurrilous”—he glared at the team around the table—“and untrue rumors about Mendacium.” He scanned his team, searching for telltale signs.

  An icy rush whipped through Kelly as Arnold offered an oily smile to her end of the table. Then relief. The angle was wrong, thankfully. The smile was for Tiffany.

  “It also appears they were advised to do this by one of our sales representatives, and while they didn’t mention which one, we are launching an internal investigation to find out.” He again scanned the team, licking his lips with anticipation. Another smile dripped toward her end of the room.

  Kelly’s leg jackhammered under the table. She fought hard to stop it from powering her chair through the ceiling.

  Arnold resumed his narration. “Rubicon Pharma is a team. A family. We’re all working toward the same goals, so we cannot tolerate this dissension.” His eyes swept the room as he apparently drew from his memorization of this part, his voice rising as if relishing the message he was delivering. “We will hold an official inquiry to find the guilty party and get to the bottom of what, we presume, is just a misunderstanding.”

  He sent another oily smile toward Kelly’s end of the table, but this time it was directed at her.

  * * *

  Kelly stared at her desktop, frozen in fury and terror.

  Jasmine leaned back from the divider between them. “I wouldn’t want to be in that rep’s shoes.”

  Kelly was lost in her stare, her brain abandoning any attempt at thought.

  “Oh, Kel, it’s not you, is it?”

  A single nod.

  “But you’re already on one warning.”

  “I know.”

  “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

  “Children are sick, Jasmine, because of something I sell. That’s not right.”

  Jasmine’s eyes darted around the cubicles in their corporate prairie. “You had better keep your voice down.”

  Kelly knew what she had to do. It was time to save more than the one family whose children appeared on Simon’s wall. She stood and smoothed her jacket. “Now is the time for my voice to be heard. I’m going to talk to Arnold.”

  “What, throw yourself on the mercy of the court?”

  “No, it’s just the right thing to do.” Kelly walked past an openmouthed Jasmine to the office at the end of the row. She took a deep breath and knocked.

  Arnold’s smile oiled up at the sight of her. “I’m writing an email to you.”

  Kelly took a seat on the edge of his guest chair.

  Arnold leaned back and laced his arms behind his head. “I’ve heard back from R&D, and I know which clinic called—”

  “It’s one of mine.”

  Arnold frowned. She had taken the wind out of his sails. Good.

  Kelly held her head high. “I can give you the exact wording of our conversation, if you like. The doctor had two children reporting symptoms similar to the side effects we’re trying to pretend don’t exist, and I told him if he wanted information, he could get it from our R&D team. If these rumors are as untrue as we keep claiming them to be, then what’s the problem with proving it?”

  Arnold’s mouth flopped open as Kelly pressed her finger into his desk.

  “I’ve read my contract and the Human Resources manual, and nothing in there says my behavior or the wording of my conversation is a sackable offense. A formal warning at worst, but not sackable. In fact, if anything, I have fulfilled the obligations of our customer service guarantee.”

  Arnold deflated, his attack robbed of fuel. He tried to sit tall in his chair and resume his self-appointed role of executioner. “It’s not your role to determine what punishment fits the crime. Until we can speak to this doctor, I’m giving you your second formal warning—”

  Kelly stood tall, flooded with righteous intent. “Actually, save it. I quit.”

  “You don’t get to quit—” But Kelly was already out the door.

  One half of her was lifting her integrity shoulder high and celebrating a win. The other half of her was picturing how much work it would take to sell her car or, heaven forbid, the house.

  And how she’d tell Daniel.

  Twenty-Eight

  Daniel sauntered toward Simon’s counter, behind which lay the answers he needed. He had examined every option, and each one was a winner. If these photos showed him “truth” about Milly and Kelly, he would confront them with it. But if they denied it, he would sue Simon for doctoring the photos. Last, if there was nothing wrong with them, then Simon had at least Photoshopped his first photos, and he would still sue him—for everything he had. He wouldn’t even need the money from a second book.

  These photos had to be nothing. Garth had just unnerved him.

  The thin strap of the camera cut into his shoulder. He had to keep it nearby at least until he could prove how this was happening.

  Simon rose on the balls of his feet, an envelope on the counter in front of him, its proud sticker sealing the evidence Daniel wanted. No, needed.

  Daniel lay his work folder, a copy of No Secrets, and Gramps’s camera on the counter. “Good morning, Simon!”

  Simon beamed. “You look like you’re in a good mood.”

  “I’m about to have a great day. Either I find out what Milly and Kelly won’t tell me or I’ve got ammunition for my lawyers to take you to the cleaners.”

  Simon chuckled. “That’s the right approach, if you will accept truth.” He held out the envelope for Daniel to take. Daniel took hold of it, but Simon didn’t let go.

  Daniel snatched it from him and ripped it open. Daniel frowned. “Just three photos? I took more than that. And how can you get away with charging me forty-four dollars for three photos?”

  Simon rose on the balls of his feet. “Three is all you need.”

  The first photo showed a frowning Milly with his mother, smiling in that awkward way of hers. That was nothing new.

  He flicked to the second photo, which showed all three women in his life. Again, his mother smiled, an arm around Milly. Milly again frowned, and Kelly looked over Daniel’s shoulder as if waiting for someone to enter the room. The same look he’d seen through the viewfinder.

  Daniel dropped the photos onto the counter and looked up at Simon with a flash of triumph. “No surprises at all here. Lawyer up, buddy.”

  Pure ecstasy flooded through Simon’s face. “All three photos?”

  Daniel picked up the envelope and flicked to the final picture. He stood in his own kitchen, an arm around his daughter, who this time was smiling. But the person to Milly’s right wasn’t Kelly.

  It was Anna.

  Daniel threw the photo into Simon’s face. “Right. That’s it! I will sue you for everything you’ve got.”

  Simon clasped his hands behind his back. “The camera never lies, Daniel. It’s showing truth in your life.”

  Daniel scoffed. “Truth? All I see is evidence of you manipulating my photos. You will hear from my lawyer when I inform him of your extortion attempt.”

  Simon’s face hardened as his voice carried a flint edge. “Extortion? Over what? Showing that your heart is drifting to another and away from your wife? That your daughter is unhappy?” Simon spread his fingers on the counter. “And are you sure you want anyone else to know why the front cover of No Secrets sometimes doesn’t have your name on it?”

  Daniel’s mouth slid ope
n.

  “Truth cannot simply be avoided, covered up, or ignored, and the camera chooses the truth it shows.”

  Daniel found his voice—just. “The camera chooses the truth it shows?”

  “Yes, like when people are unhappy but hide behind a smile. Or when they pretend to be someone they’re not to impress people they don’t like anyway.”

  Daniel felt his face redden. “So you’ve read my book, then?”

  Simon nodded at the copy of No Secrets. “Your book?”

  Daniel flushed, feeling an overwhelming urge to punch this Simon guy square in the mouth. But throwing an assault charge on top of everything else was the last thing he needed.

  “Yes, my book.” He checked himself. “Well, our book.”

  Simon sized him up. “I don’t create the truth that’s there, but I certainly help breathe it into life. If you still think I’ve manipulated your photos, let me prove my innocence.”

  He grabbed Gramps’s camera from the counter and then marched to the shelves and reached down for a roll of film. He loaded it into the back of the camera and held it out to Daniel. Then he picked up No Secrets and clasped it to his lab coat with the front cover in full view.

  “Take a photo of your book.” He checked himself. “Our book.”

  “Why?”

  Simon’s hands shook as his voice tremored with anger. “You want proof of the camera’s power? Take a photo of the book, and if it still says you wrote it, then sue me.”

  Daniel held the camera up to his eye and the lens twitched into focus. It couldn’t be. He lowered his hands.

  The book still trembled in Simon’s hand, but there was flint in his voice. “Is there a problem?”

  Daniel again looked through the viewfinder. His name was erased from No Secrets. He lowered the camera, his head spinning with secrets, cameras, books, and photos. “But how did Anna get into my photos?”

  Simon’s voice softened. Warmed. “The camera is revealing the truth in your heart.”