Midnight at the Barclay Hotel

by Fleur Bradley

  Just then, Penny’s grandpa walked over, looking grumpy. “There is no spa.”

  Penny said, “Oh, bummer. But there’s a hot tub, right?”

  “That hot tub better be good,” Detective Walker grumbled.

  “That’s what I said,” JJ’s mom said. She handed JJ a room key. “I wonder what this welcome party is about. All they said was that there will be a big announcement. Do I really have to go?”

  “Sounds ominous,” Detective Walker said. “I guess we’ll find out. And yes, I think you do.”

  The butler was motioning for them to come to the dining room. “You can check your rooms out later. Right through these doors, please.”

  “What about me? I’m just a kid, right? So I shouldn’t have to go,” JJ said to his mom. “I think checking out the hotel would be a better use of my time. Don’t you?”

  “No wandering children,” the butler said in a no-nonsense voice from behind them.

  “You heard the man,” his mom said, pointing in the direction of the dining room. “Maybe they’ll have some hot cocoa for you.”

  Once inside the dining room, JJ locked eyes with the finger food. He suddenly realized how hungry he was—must be all that high altitude—so he started to fix himself a plate.

  “Young man, get away from the hors d’oeuvres,” Mr. Clark said as he swatted at JJ’s hand.

  “The what?” JJ said with a puzzled look on his face.

  “First, the announcements. Then the food.”

  JJ sighed and moved closer to his mom. They all stood there, looking lost. JJ’s mom kept checking her phone for no reason, and moving around the room to see if she got any reception.

  Penny said behind him, “Your mom really likes her phone, huh?”

  “It’s because it’s how she keeps up with her business,” JJ said, slightly defensive. “She’s the CEO of PB&JJ.”

  Now he had to give the usual speech, the one he always gave when people asked.

  When he was a little toddler, JJ was a very picky eater. His mom realized he liked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, so she became an expert at making them. But because she was worried JJ would get bored, she started adding fun stuff to the sandwiches, like marshmallow fluff, fried potatoes, and even carrots. JJ loved it, and so did everyone who ever came over. His mom decided to start a restaurant. It was so super successful, she added another restaurant, then another.

  “And the rest is PB&JJ history,” JJ said, finishing the story with the famous company line from the commercials.

  Penny said, “There’s a PB&JJ in my town. I loooove the PB and banana sandwich.”

  JJ liked Penny a little better already. “That is one of my favorites too. Maybe my mom can make them for us if the kitchen has the ingredients.”

  Before Penny could agree with this brilliant idea, two women walked into the dining room: the librarian Ms. Chelsea and another young lady in a floral dress, wearing high heels that almost made her trip. That was actress Fiona Fleming. The cowboy followed close behind and sat at a table in the back, eyeing the pile of little sandwiches.

  “Excuse me, everyone.” Mr. Clark waited a moment. “If I can have your attention for this evening’s announcement.”

  He let the silence echo around the room. Mr. Clark clearly liked a bit of drama.

  “I’m pleased to welcome our esteemed guests to the Barclay Hotel for the weekend.” He glanced at JJ and Penny. “Plus, a straggler or two, it seems.”

  JJ smiled. He didn’t mind being called a straggler—it made the whole weekend seem more adventurous somehow.

  Penny frowned. She didn’t like how Mr. Clark made her feel like an annoying little kid.

  Mr. Clark continued with his boring speech. “Most of you invited guests have had business with Mr. Barclay. Which is why each of you is here.”

  The room got so quiet when he paused, you could hear the guests’ pulses quicken. Mr. Clark was milking this dramatic moment for all it was worth.

  “These dealings were not always pleasant, or to your liking.” Mr. Clark made a point of looking at every person in the room. “Which is why, exactly a week ago, one of you in this room killed Mr. Barclay. And this weekend, we will find out who the murderer is.”

  A KILLER? RIGHT here, in this room? JJ caught his mom turning the color of a tomato, and Jackie wasn’t one to fluster easily. She was usually the one telling other people to troubleshoot stuff.

  “Wow,” Penny muttered as a grin spread across her face. “We’re in a real-life murder mystery!”

  Mr. Clark paced around the room with his hands clasped behind his back and continued, “A little-known fact about Mr. Barclay is that before he built the family fortune in real estate holdings, he invented a little board game called Catch a Criminal.”

  He paused for dramatic effect.

  But before he could continue, JJ blurted out, “Oh, like Clue!”

  “No, not at all like Clue,” Mr. Clark snapped.

  Clearly, this was a touchy subject.

  “The game never became the hit he expected, but the original now lives in the library, if anyone is interested in playing.”

  Mr. Clark looked as if he expected at least one of the guests to jump at the chance to play this game . . . but no one seemed very interested. And how could you blame them? They had just been told that they were suspects in a murder. The premise hit a little too close to home at the moment.

  Fiona cleared her throat and raised her hand, like she was in school. “Excuse me?”

  “Ms. Fleming, you have a question.” Mr. Clark even sounded like a teacher, all calm and patient.

  Fiona paused, and glanced around the room to make sure everyone was paying attention to her. “Are we supposed to solve this mystery? Why aren’t the police involved?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” Buck Jones added.

  “Please give me a chance to explain Mr. Barclay’s intentions for this game,” Mr. Clark said, slightly irritated. This conversation was getting away from him. “The police did a preliminary investigation and Mr. Barclay’s physician attended as well. Both concluded that Mr. Barclay’s death was caused by a heart attack. But I know it was really death by poison!”

  There was a dramatic gasp, coming from the actress in residence, Ms. Fleming. “Murder. Poisoning means murder,” she added, stating the obvious.

  “Who said he was poisoned?” the detective countered.

  “I requested that the police revisit this matter, so the medical examiner did an autopsy,” Mr. Clark said. His face was sad. “It was indeed poison that killed Mr. Barclay.”

  “That’s murder all right,” Penny whispered, so only JJ could hear.

  “Crime scene investigators have already been here at the hotel. Detectives will be coming on Monday to gather evidence and question witnesses,” said Mr. Clark. “However, Mr. Barclay was sure you—the four suspects and one detective—could solve the murder this weekend.”

  Ms. Chelsea asked, “How did Mr. Barclay even set all this up? I mean, he is dead.”

  Mr. Clark said, “Mr. Barclay knew he had enemies, and feared one of you might kill him. With his love for games, he decided to orchestrate one last game—from the grave, if you will. Upon his murder, he arranged for the invitations to go out and for me, his right-hand man, to ensure the game would move forward.”

  The room had gone eerily silent now. Murder was serious business.

  Mr. Clark added, “Of course Mr. Barclay hoped he was wrong—no one wants to be murdered. But he had some serious quarrels with four of you invited guests.”

  JJ had hoped to talk to Mr. Barclay about the mansion’s hauntings. Now that the man was dead, the whole weekend felt like it had a big fat dark cloud over it.

  “Well, I am no killer,” Ms. Chelsea said. “How do I clear my name?”

  “That’s what all suspect
s say,” Ms. Fleming said, rolling her eyes with a snooty look on her face.

  Mr. Clark ignored the actress and turned his attention back to Ms. Chelsea. “Play the game,” he said with a mischievous expression. “There will be five players: Detective Frank Walker, Ms. Fiona Fleming, Mr. Buck Jones, Ms. Chelsea Griffin, and Mrs. Jackie Jacobson.”

  Next, Mr. Clark pointed to a table in the back, where leather-bound notebooks and pens were spread out. Five of each—one for each of the invited guests. “To clear your name, each of you must investigate the murder of Mr. Barclay. By the end of this weekend, I want to know who the real killer is.”

  All the guests stared at one another, a little dumbstruck. No one said a word.

  Mr. Clark said, “Of course, one of you will not want the criminal to be caught.”

  “Because one of them is the murderer,” Penny whispered to JJ.

  That was clear to everyone.

  Mr. Clark might as well have had ultrasonic hearing, and shot Penny some dagger eyes from across the room for stealing his thunder. He cleared his throat again. “Ladies and gentlemen, go catch a criminal.”

  TENSIONS RAN HIGH. There was some yelling and even cowboy-hat-throwing. Ms. Chelsea was the first to raise her voice, which was ironic because she spent much of her time shushing people at the library. You can guess who threw a cowboy hat.

  Buck then quickly picked it up and grabbed a notebook from the table before storming off.

  “I’m not playing,” Detective Walker said, crossing his arms over his chest as if to emphasize his announcement. “I retired six months ago. I didn’t come here to work.”

  Penny was so disappointed. Something exciting was finally happening, and now her grandpa didn’t want to join in!

  “No one will be forced to participate,” Mr. Clark said. “But by the end of the weekend, we will have our murderer. Detective Walker, it’s my understanding that you’ve solved every single case in your entire career. I believe it’s why Mr. Barclay invited you. You are the best detective in the state of Colorado.” Mr. Clark tried to hand Detective Walker a notebook.

  “I’m retired,” Detective Walker said firmly. He looked grumpy. “These sandwiches are hardly a five-course meal.”

  “It’s still to come,” Mr. Clark promised.

  Detective Walker added, “And I wondered if you put me in room two seventeen on purpose.”

  Mr. Clark made an attempt to hide a smile, but did a terrible job.

  “That’s the most haunted room in the hotel!” JJ blurted out. He was a little peeved that he wasn’t chosen to stay in that room. He would’ve appreciated it much more than this detective. His mom shot him a warning look that told him to stop talking.

  Penny was more excited now. This was the perfect opportunity to debunk the Barclay Hotel’s haunted reputation, since she was also staying in room 217.

  “Young man, that’s poppycock,” Detective Walker said. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

  Mr. Clark stepped in to challenge the detective. “Then the room shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it?”

  Detective Walker squinted, stepped back, and grumbled something.

  While wrapping a few little sandwiches in a napkin, JJ’s mom said to him, “I think we need to call this weekend off. I’m sorry, JJ, but this is madness.”

  “No one leaves,” Mr. Clark bellowed from across the room. There was that ultrasonic hearing again. “At least, not until tomorrow.” Mr. Clark tried to soften his tone and smiled. “The driver is off for the day, and besides, it’s too dangerous to navigate the mountain roads at night.”

  You could hear a collective groan from all the guests in the room.

  Fiona looked like she might cry as she left the dining hall.

  JJ’s mom held the notebook and turned to JJ. “I need to talk to my legal team—I’ll go see if there’s cell phone reception anywhere else in the hotel. See you at the room in a little while?”

  “Sure, yeah,” JJ said, his face falling slightly.

  “Maybe we can check out the pool together,” Jackie said, sensing his disappointment. “I hear there’s a big slide.”

  Now that did sound really fun. JJ nodded. “Deal.”

  JJ’s mom took the little sandwiches and rushed out the door.

  After telling Penny to come upstairs as soon as possible, Detective Walker made his exit and went to room 217.

  When Penny and JJ went out into the den, they found Emma practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “This is so awe-soooome!”

  “What about this is awesome? Didn’t you hear Mr. Barclay is dead?” JJ said.

  Emma’s excitement disappeared at the mention of Mr. Barclay. “I already knew about Mr. Barclay’s death. I practically live here, remember? I’m going to miss Mr. Barclay very much.” Emma blinked her tears away.

  “Are you okay?” Penny asked.

  Emma took a deep breath and brought her grin back. “Yeah, I’m fine. But we should solve this murder.”

  Penny said, “I agree with Emma. Let’s do it!”

  JJ thought about it all. If his mom got her way and they left tomorrow morning, his only chance to ghost hunt would be tonight. And with Mr. Barclay dead, there could be a new ghost to find. No offense to the deceased, of course. JJ was more determined than ever to get his equipment set up for the night. Maybe he could catch the ghost of Mr. Barclay and prove Penny wrong all at the same time.

  JJ also thought of his mom, and how she was a suspect. He had to investigate this murder to clear her name. JJ turned his attention back to Emma and Penny.

  “I have one condition. I want time to ghost hunt too.”

  Penny wanted to object to the existence of ghosts, but since JJ had just agreed to help them, she thought it might be better to keep quiet for now.

  “We’re like the three musketeers,” Emma said.

  Penny smiled. “Yes.” She wouldn’t admit it, but she was a little afraid—I mean, this was murder they were talking about. And if Mr. Clark was right, then there was a killer not too far away. Right here at the hotel.

  “I told you two that we’d be great partners!” Emma said.

  Penny shoved away her fear and said, “Stragglers have to stick together.” She raised her hand to high-five Emma, but Penny only caught air.

  Emma was already bolting down the hall.

  After all, they had a murderer to catch. And not much time to do it.

  “WE NEED A headquarters for our investigation.” Emma paused to think for a second. “I know just the place.” She darted off again, expecting the other two to follow.

  The three kids went up the stairs, and then down the hall. They passed the room JJ and his mom were sharing on the way, and JJ wondered if she was in there. Was his mom involved in this murder—or worse: was she the murderer? It had to be a giant mistake.

  “Do you think maybe Mr. Clark is wrong about Mr. Barclay’s death being a murder?” he asked Penny. Emma was now up ahead, impatiently waiting for the two of them to catch up.

  “Why would he lie?” Penny asked.

  JJ didn’t know how to answer that question. He just didn’t want his mom to be a suspect.

  Penny added, “It does seem like we’re missing something, though. Like an important clue.”

  “We should figure out what clues there are,” JJ said. He was eager to solve the mystery of Mr. Barclay’s murder, to clear his mom’s name, and to get to ghost hunting—that was the whole reason he was here, after all. He looked around, hoping to catch a ghost.

  The lights flickered. “Dude,” JJ whispered.

  Before Penny could say anything else, the two kids heard Emma’s voice from down the hall.

  “This way!” she called.

  Ghost hunting would have to wait. JJ sighed and joined Penny and Emma.

  Emma opened a door, which led into what look
ed like another hotel room, only it wasn’t. It was a small space, almost like a dressing room, with two giant wardrobes and a mirror. Emma grinned as she opened one of the wardrobes. “When I was little, I’d pretend I was going to Narnia. You know, like the book?”

  The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was on the Battle of the Books list, but JJ didn’t want to admit that he’d never read the whole thing. He did, however, know she was talking about the wardrobe being a portal into a different world.

  “I loved that book,” Penny said.

  JJ wondered if he was missing out, not reading. But it took him forever just to read the first few chapters.

  Emma pushed the clothes aside and opened a small door. It led to another narrow hall, only the walls were bare this time. The hall seemed to climb like a ramp before they reached another door. Emma opened the door, and they arrived in another sitting room.

  Penny sat in one of the oversize chairs. It looked like it was going to swallow her whole, it was so giant.

  Emma sat in another chair. “This room is right over the kitchen,” she said. “Sometimes, I can hear dishes and silverware clanking as they hit the counter, and smell what my uncle is cooking up for Mr. Barclay.” She blinked as if she was holding back emotions.

  “You must miss Mr. Barclay,” Penny said.

  Emma nodded, looking sad.

  JJ scanned the room. The part of him that wanted to ghost hunt started wondering if it was haunted. While Emma was talking to Penny, he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his EMF detector.

  “What’s that?” Emma stepped in front of him. JJ jumped at the sound of Emma’s voice. He hated it when people snuck up on him.

  Before he could manage to get too irritated, JJ’s attention was diverted to the EMF detector and its sudden continuous beeping. The detector was about the size of a cell phone, with a small screen and lights that arced around the bottom of the device. It was going crazy!

  “It’s an electromagnetic field detector—EMF. It shows you anything with an electromagnetic field, like wiring in an old house, or ghosts. And look!” He showed both Penny and Emma how the lights on the detector showed there was electromagnetic activity. Right over by the wall in front of them, sort of.