Newport Dreams: A Breakwater Bay Novella Read Online Free PDF

did Carlyn do that?
    “Go on, Geordie.” Carlyn smiled at her, girl to girl, and Geordie felt marginally better.
    She showed another photo.
    “Hold it. Isn’t this another shot of the front steps?”
    “Yes.”
    “It’s out of order. You should have kept this photo with number . . . Are these photos numbered?”
    Geordie didn’t answer. They were in order, or so she’d thought.
    “They are time coded on my camera.”
    “Well, they have to be time coded in the data that accompanies each photo. Which includes sector number, and detailed notes.”
    Sector number? No one had told her about sector numbers. Had they even been in the house long enough to have drawn up sector numbers?
    “You didn’t do any of this, did you?”
    She could lie but what good would it do? She must have missed that chapter when she was cramming for the job. Of course it made sense and if she’d been thinking clearly and known what she was doing, she would have realized it. But from the minute she shook hands with Doug, she’d been totally busy trying not to drown.
    Her ears began to ring, and she tried furiously to think of something calming so her skin wouldn’t flush and give her away.
    “What’s the point of wasting time and money taking shots if we don’t know what the hell we’re looking at?”
    “My fault,” Carlyn said calmly. “I was so busy I forgot to rustle up the forms we use. I’ll get them when we finish and enter the data then.”
    Bruce scowled at her. Carlyn wasn’t fooling him or anybody else. But why was she covering for her? Why?
    “But like I said, some of us have work to do. Things like applying for a few more grants so Geordie will have a reason to take photos.” She gave Doug what Geordie guessed must be her version of an evil eye, but it held more humor than demand.
    “Right. Go on, Geordie.” Doug turned back to the screen.
    Geordie went through photo after photo, naming the area and explaining the detail. There was nothing wrong with her memory. She recognized most of them and hedged the others. She might have to go over the house to refresh her memory, but by God, she’d have them entered correctly before tomorrow.
    She opened another file and ran through the stills of each room. She tagged the photos to be detailed and moved them into a separate file. The room had become totally quiet. So quiet that Geordie could here the cars on the street. A motorcycle rumbling at the stop sign. The radio from a road crew on the next block.
    “Next.”
    The words almost in her ear startled her. She’d let her mind wander again. She had high powers of concentration if she was interested in something.
    She’d always been that way. Her mother had even had her tested for adD, but she passed with flying colors.
    They said it was a discipline problem. She should try harder. But she’d seen something outside the window by then and hadn’t heard what they said.
    She switched to the foyer file. The octagonal walls, the front door, transom window. A close-up of several portions of the glass design. As much of the ceiling as she could get from the floor. Geordie stifled another yawn. She needed another cup of coffee. Zoomed in where the paint was thin and revealed a play of dark and light. A pattern beneath the paint. That would be interesting.
    The corner molding. The window sill. The shaft of light pricking the wood and fanning into a dozen sections and the arc of light—
    “What the hell is that?”
    “Sorry.” Geordie moved quickly to the next photo. She must have been tired to get things mixed up like that. And even more tired by the time she clicked through this morning before breakfast to make sure she’d gotten all she needed.
    She sat up, refocused. No more slips like that. Mind on your work, mind on your work, mind on your work.
    “Wait a minute.” Meri leaned over the computer. “That was amazing. Can we see it?”
    “Maybe you girls could look at it later?” Bruce said. “Doug and I need to get