Hidden Meanings Read Online Free PDF Page B

around?”
    Brushing away her tears, Rosita led Nancy along the corridor to three locked white metal doors that looked almost invisible against the white walls. Inside were large supply closets, with shelves of bed linens, towels, wrapped bars of soap, and other items for the guest rooms, as well as huge canvas hampers filled with dirty sheets and towels.
    Rosita took one of the hampers, which was mounted on wheels, and rolled it down the corridor. Near the end, she turned away from the atrium and through a pair of steel doors. Compared to the soft carpet, brass light fixtures, and artwork in the guest area, the back corridor was stark, with bare white walls, fluorescent lights, and a gray linoleum floor, Nancy noticed.
    The service corridor ended at a large elevator. Rosita pushed the button, and the doors opened. She rolled the hamper inside. Another staff member, a man in a green coverall, stood next to a plastic bin of garbage.
    â€œI guess I’ll leave you here,” Nancy said, wrinkling her nose at the stench. “If you see anything strange, will you be sure to tell me?”
    Rosita smiled and nodded as the doors shut.
    Nancy made her way back to the guest hallway. Looking down to the door of 707, she saw with a sinking heart that Ned still wasn’t there. With a sigh, she headed down to the lobby to find Bess and George and to see about their room.
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    The next morning Nancy slept late. When she finally woke up, she dressed quickly and went down to the Muskoka Lobby. Once again it was buzzing with activity. Wearing a short red linen skirt and white cotton sweater, Nancy hoped to blend in with the students. Across the lobby she saw Bess at a buffet table, wearing a server’s white blouse, black pants, and black bow tie. Pitchers of juice and platters of muffins covered the table, which had been set up for students who had slept late and missed the more elaborate breakfast earlier.
    Waving to Bess, Nancy began to mingle with the students. She couldn’t see Gina, but she did spot Sally’s curly-haired head above the crowd as Sally stepped onto an escalator. Nancy followed her up to the next floor, where several oak-paneled doors and two corridors were visible from the red-carpeted landing.
    Each door held a sign indicating which workshop was meeting inside. Nancy followed Sally into a room on the end of one corridor. The sign on the door said Advanced Photography Seminar.
    Inside, a dozen students stood around what looked like a private dining room, waiting for the seminar to begin. Seeing Jane Sellery across the room, Nancy waved to her. Then she noticed a door ajar at the far end of the room. She went over and popped her head in. It was a windowless kitchenette that had been turned into a darkroom.
    Strips of film hung to dry from clotheslines strung across the tiny darkroom, and next to the sink were pans of liquid developer. Sally was just reaching up to unclip some film from the line.
    â€œHi, Nancy,” she said, greeting her. “The roll I shot yesterday is ready. Want to see?”
    â€œSure,” Nancy said. She followed Sally back out to the main room. Sally laid the film down on a metal box that had a frosted glass top and a light below.
    â€œThese are just negatives, of course,” Sally said, peering at the film. “I haven’t printed anything yet. But I think I got some really good shots of Evan Sharpless on that escalator.”.
    Nancy bent over the light box to examine the tiny images, each one less than an inch square. She could just make out a man’s shape and the upward slant of an escalator. In each shot, the image changed slightly. The figure moved up the escalator, then onto the mezzanine, with its picture window behind. Sharpless was joined by a shorter figure, wearing baggy pants and with a bushy white beard. Then Nancy remembered that this was a reverse image—in the printed photo, the beard would be dark. She