Free The Photographer by Barbara Steiner

she dashed to the hospital to find no change in Cynthia. She was asleep and responded to very little, her mother said. So Megan didn’t stay long. At dinner she said she had to go to the city council meeting and that Derrick was picking her up. She hated lying to her parents, but how could she explain to them that she had to break into Derrick’s darkroom?
    â€œWhy doesn’t that young man come to the door like a date is supposed to do?” Mr. Davidson grumbled.
    â€œBecause this isn’t a date, Daddy. It’s business.”
    â€œBusiness, ummmph.” His eyes teased. “Monkey business.”
    â€œNo, Daddy. This is really an important evening for our school.”
    That wasn’t totally a lie. What Megan was doing could be really important. She dashed out before he could question her further.
    Fortunately, they’d had the harvest moon for Halloween and daylight saving time was over. Gunbarrel Greens was very dark. Since it was out of the city, there weren’t as many streetlights either. Megan hoped if anyone saw her she would look like another teenager coming home from school late.
    How was she going to get into Derrick’s house? Some houses out here had burglar alarms. Police didn’t make rounds often, so people took care of their own security. Would Derrick’s mother be that cautious?
    It turned out to be simple. Just before Megan reached Derrick’s house, Mrs. Ames turned into their drive in her station wagon. Megan stopped behind a lilac bush at the curb of a neighbor’s house and watched her get out of the car. To Megan’s surprise, she was laughing. Then Megan heard a chinking sound and cursing. Mrs. Ames had dropped her keys. She mumbled as she searched. It was obvious to Megan that she’d been drinking. Footsteps told Megan she’d found them and was walking to the front door. Don’t turn on the porch light, she willed. Seven o’clock. She glanced at her watch. Not a great time for breaking and entering, but the city council meeting started at seven, and Megan had no other choice. She might have two hours, less if the school representatives were scheduled first.
    Slipping from the bush to the station wagon, Megan approached the house. If Mrs. Ames came back out, Megan would ask if Derrick was there. She’d have to hope that Mrs. Ames wouldn’t later tell Derrick that Megan had come visiting. Megan clutched the cold casing of her flashlight. The graveled front yard crunched as she tried to cross it. The sound was like ice breaking in the evening’s silence.
    Megan’s plan was to look in the windows, locate Mrs. Ames, and then start trying windows. She didn’t need to. Mrs. Ames had left her key ring in the front door. Maybe she had stopped at a bar after work. Her drinking must have made her forgetful. Megan didn’t hesitate. She turned the key, slipped open the door, and, seeing no one in the flagstone entryway, tiptoed through it and toward the stairs.
    The distinctive sound of ice dropping into a glass and a beverage being poured reached Megan’s ears. The shrill jangle of the phone made her jump and huddle on the first step. Where was the phone located?
    â€œOh, yes.” Mrs. Ames’s voice was still in the kitchen. “I had to stop and celebrate on the way home. I’ll leave Sunday if I feel better.”
    Good—maybe she’d be tied up in a telephone conversation for a long time. Up the carpeted stairway Megan ran, toward Derrick’s room. She hoped he hadn’t changed rooms since she’d been inside the house. He’d been really proud of his darkroom and had seemed to enjoy showing Megan around at the welcoming party, which seemed so long ago.
    Abnormally neat was her first impression as she circled the room with her light. Old-fashioned furniture, a bed with posts, a rolltop desk. Smaller than her bedroom, since Derrick had partitioned off some of the room; added it to