Midnight at the Barclay Hotel

by Fleur Bradley

  “You think your dad was murdered?” Penny asked.

  “I couldn’t prove it, but . . . yes.” Fiona sighed, then got agitated again. “He was poisoned, but the killer made it look like a heart attack. And Gerrit Hofstra forged my father’s will and took all his money. My dad was a wealthy man, like Mr. Barclay.”

  “How did you know to come here, to Aspen Springs?” JJ asked.

  Fiona stood in the spotlight now. It was like she’d been waiting in the wings until it was her turn to tell the truth. “After he died, I searched my dad’s computer for evidence and found that someone had been researching the Barclay family. My father barely used his computer, so I knew it wasn’t him.”

  Fiona turned, and stepped out of the light. She was choosing her words carefully.

  “I wanted revenge. I wanted Hofstra to pay. But I knew I needed a plan to take down a con man like him.”

  “So, you moved here,” JJ said, prodding her to say more. He sure hoped his recorder was getting this.

  Fiona nodded, and turned back to JJ and Penny. “I set up my theater company in town, knowing that Mr. Barclay loved murder mystery games and theater. I approached him, after I had the company up and running.”

  “And Mr. Barclay said yes to your play.” Penny got closer to Fiona, slowly.

  Fiona smiled. “The truth is, I was actually pretty excited to host a murder mystery at the hotel. But I was here for Hofstra, so I wrote him into the story.”

  This was a clever plan, Penny thought. Not that she was about to say that out loud.

  Fiona gave Penny and JJ an evil smile. “That Friday, I had an appointment with Mr. Barclay. But I knew how Hofstra liked to use disguises. Don’t get me wrong—he was good—but I knew it wasn’t Mr. Barclay I was speaking to on the phone. Then I brought the poison I ordered ahead of time, and drove up to the Barclay Hotel. All I needed was ten minutes alone with Gerrit Hofstra . . .”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Was Fiona about to confess to the murder?

  Fiona took a deep breath. “When I arrived, I met Mr. Barclay, but I knew it was really the con man who killed my father. Then I followed him into the kitchen, where there was a perfect cupcake, waiting for Hofstra. When he looked away, I quickly poisoned the frosting on the cupcake. It was frighteningly easy, really.

  “Then I got the invitation,” Fiona went on. “And I knew I had to come here for the weekend, to make sure no one suspected me. Unfortunately, Mr. Barclay did . . .” Her face clouded over.

  “How about the other suspects?” Penny asked.

  Fiona smiled again. “This was where I got lucky. There were four other suspects! The chef, the cowboy, the librarian, and your mom, the CEO. I couldn’t have written it better in the play.”

  JJ paused, thinking of all the danger they had been in that weekend at the Barclay Hotel. “The elevator, the carousel . . .”

  Fiona nodded and shrugged, in a “you got me” way. “When I figured out that the two of you were on to me, I knew I had to stop you. It was pretty easy, honestly. The elevator is old, and I just had to turn up the speed on the carousel. Only that didn’t scare you, did it?”

  “A little,” JJ admitted.

  Penny shot JJ a look that said “act brave!”

  “And I almost got rid of your grandpa out there in the blizzard,” Fiona said to Penny.

  Penny felt anger boil inside her as she thought of how her grandpa could’ve frozen to death outside in that maze. But she had to keep her detective calm.

  Penny realized they’d need a full confession, one for the murder. She said, “So that Friday, at ten thirty, you just poisoned Mr. Clark and left.”

  “Mr. Hofstra,” Fiona said, correcting Penny.

  “You killed him.”

  Fiona nodded. “Yes. And good riddance.”

  This was it: the confession they had been looking for. And they had it all on tape!

  PENNY FELT A rush of excitement. She’d just gotten the killer to confess, like a real detective!

  Now they had to make an exit . . . JJ was glancing around too.

  Uh-oh. This was going to be harder than they’d thought.

  Penny looked for Emma, but their partner in detecting was nowhere to be found. Penny was starting to get panicked now, just like when she went scuba diving.

  JJ was scared too, but they had to stall so that they could keep Fiona talking. He said, “But Mr. Clark—err, Hofstra—he was a killer first.”

  Fiona nodded. “Exactly.” She paused and her eyes welled up. “My father was my best friend, you know? He was always there for me, even when I messed up.”

  JJ knew a thing or two about that. His mom and dad always had his back, even when things were not going so well, like with this whole failing-class business. “You felt like you had to kill Mr. Hofstra,” he said.

  Penny was beginning to panic big-time now. Fiona was a killer!

  Fiona continued, “I forgot that Mr. Barclay had the script, which would be evidence of my guilt. So when the invitation came, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get rid of the one piece of evidence that could be my downfall. It was a chance I couldn’t resist. But when I searched Mr. Barclay’s office, the script wasn’t there.”

  JJ said, “It was in the library. Mr. Barclay has a whole collection of scripts.”

  Fiona nodded, and exhaled. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

  There was a definite shift in the mood of the room. It felt colder, icier even than the air in the maze just hours earlier.

  Penny stepped back. She clutched the script.

  But Fiona stepped closer. “I’ll take that script now.”

  “No!” Penny yelled, and turned away. But Fiona lunged and tried to pry it from her fingers.

  Penny tried to hold on, but Fiona was too strong. She snatched the script, leaving Penny holding just a few strips of torn paper.

  Fiona hurried offstage. There was a rumble, and then a swoosh sound.

  Penny and JJ stood together, onstage. Penny smelled perfume, strangely and out of nowhere.

  “Look up!” Emma called from somewhere in the audience seats. JJ and Penny looked to the ceiling, only to see the stage light contraption up above them lowering.

  No, it was dropping.

  Right on their heads.

  THERE WAS ANOTHER whoosh, a movement of air. Penny and JJ felt themselves being pushed, but they couldn’t see anyone else there.

  Penny was mesmerized by a white shape floating around the stage.

  But JJ was too busy looking up. Whoever (or whatever? A ghost?) had pushed them out of the way of the falling stage lights had saved them both. JJ’s backpack got caught on the end of one of the lights and was ripped right off his shoulders. Penny had a scratch on her arm, but otherwise, they were safe. And the ghost (of Emma’s mom, they guessed) was gone.

  Luckily, Penny and JJ weren’t the only ones with detective skills. It seemed like Detective Walker, Ms. Chelsea, JJ’s mom, and even the chef had a hunch that something was up, because they all came running through the double doors at the same time.

  Emma had warned them. She made the lights flicker all over the hotel. Although they couldn’t see her, Emma managed to make a mess everywhere, sending papers flying (and even the potted plants), hoping they would follow. Thankfully, the detective did. And the other guests followed him, from their rooms all the way to the theater.

  “What’s going on?” Detective Walker asked as he got to the stage.

  “Fiona Fleming is the murderer!” Penny called. “She’s back there.” Penny pointed backstage. “Be careful when approaching her, because she’s very angry.”

  Her grandpa nodded. He went backstage, only to find Fiona wrapped in thick ropes, the ones that held back the theater curtains. Buck Jones was tying them.

  Fiona screamed, “Let me go!”
/>   Buck Jones said, “You need to be quiet, ma’am.”

  The detective smiled. “Nice lasso job, Mr. Jones.” The cowboy did win that rodeo competition after all.

  “I’m innocent!” Fiona called. “You have no evidence.”

  “Oh, I think we have plenty,” Detective Walker said.

  Penny added, “That script you’re clutching, for one. Your motive is right there in your hand.”

  “Plus, we have your confession on tape,” JJ said.

  Buck Jones added, “And you stole my boots.”

  Penny said, “So that’s how those prints ended up in the snow. That explains a lot!”

  The detective led Fiona out of the theater, and everyone else followed behind them. JJ was clutching his broken backpack, while Penny couldn’t stop smiling.

  “That was very dangerous,” JJ’s mom said, scolding him a little. “Fiona Fleming is a murderer. What if she’d . . .” Her voice trailed off. It was too scary a thought to finish.

  “I’m fine,” JJ said, lying a tiny bit. His ankle felt extra painful, and he was shaking from the close call with the theater lights. “We caught the criminal.”

  “We did!” Penny said. They high-fived, because that’s what you do when your team wins. Emma followed along, feeling pretty good about herself as well.

  And Buck Jones sauntered off, happy to have his boots back.

  AFTER FIONA WAS secured by the detective (he locked her in his room, then called his old partner for backup), everyone returned to the den to drink some hot cocoa. It was dark outside those enormous windows, but the moon was reflecting off the white snow on the ground.

  “Hey, it stopped snowing,” JJ said. For a moment, he thought he saw a tall shape, near the maze, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. The ghost of Mr. Roberts had caretaking to do.

  JJ’s mom smiled. “No more snow! That means we can go home tomorrow. Thank goodness, I have so much work to do.” She seemed lost in thought for a moment, but then said to her son, “I did enjoy what little time we spent together, though, JJ. We should take a vacation more often. But next time, let’s stay away from murder investigations.”

  “If it’s a trip to a haunted hotel, count me in,” JJ said. There were quite a few haunted Colorado hotels on his list, though he figured he should save that tidbit of information for another time. When you’re a ghost hunter, you don’t want to freak out your parents too much. Take that as a bit of advice from JJ.

  “Maybe we hit the pool before we leave tomorrow?” his mom asked.

  “That sounds great!”

  “Nice work, kiddo,” the detective said to Penny. “Brave, if a little dangerous.”

  “How can you be a detective if you’re not a little brave?” Penny said. It was true.

  “Maybe just don’t tell your parents exactly how close those theater lights came to knocking you out,” her grandpa said in a low voice. He was afraid they might never let Penny come visit again. And he really liked having her around.

  JJ’s mom checked her watch. “Well, it’s late, so I’m turning in. But I imagine you have some ghost hunting you want to do.”

  JJ smiled. “Maybe.” Of course he did. A ghost hunter’s work was never done.

  As the adults all trickled out of the den to go to bed, Penny pointed to the grandfather clock. “Look, JJ.”

  JJ saw: it was eleven forty-five.

  And there was Emma. Appearing out of nowhere as usual.

  JJ said, “I say we stick around for the midnight hour.”

  “Me too,” Emma said with a silly grin on her face. She did a cartwheel, then settled into one of the big chairs.

  “Since you won our bet, I agree: let’s see if any more ghosts show,” Penny added. Clearly JJ was right: the Barclay Hotel was indeed haunted.

  JJ brought out his ghost hunting gear, and set it up around the den. He handed Penny the EMF detector and sat next to Emma.

  “You know that I’m all the evidence you need,” Emma said, motioning to herself.

  “I know.” JJ hesitated. “But I figured you might not want people to know.”

  Emma nodded.

  Penny plopped down into another chair, and pointed the EMF detector away from Emma. “Ready?”

  Before anyone could answer, the grandfather clock chimed twelve. And the Beethoven tune filled the den.

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  THE INVITATIONS WENT out on a Monday, because according to Mr. Barclay’s new advisors (that would be JJ and Penny), it’s the best day to invite kids to a party. Mondays can be hard, we can all agree on that, and kids need something to look forward to. The letters were printed on parchment paper, the kind that tells you whoever is throwing the party means business.

  Two hundred invitations went out that Monday, perhaps a few more than that. Mr. Barclay wanted to make sure that every kid in Aspen Springs was invited. Buck Jones hand-delivered them to kids while riding his favorite horse. It took a while to get to everyone, because most kids wanted to pet Lemon Drop before they left.

  Here’s what the invitation said:

  Dear Aspen Springs,

  Congratulations! You are all winners. Come this Saturday to the Barclay Hotel for the Grand Reopening (expect surprises!).

  There will be cupcakes and pancakes, horseback and carousel rides. You can get lost in the hedge maze, or in the library (the largest private library in Colorado!). Enjoy the newly renovated pool and hot tub (bring your parents!), or go bowling—there is a lot of fun to be had for all.

  Bring your friends and friends of friends. All are welcome.

  Sincerely,

  Mr. Barclay

  P.S. Despite the fact that there is a regular ghost hunting tour, the Barclay Hotel is not haunted. We promise.

  Of course, JJ and Penny knew this last teeny tiny written statement was not true, but, then again, they’d sworn to Emma that they’d keep her ghost status a secret. Emma was so looking forward to having a whole bunch of kids to hang out with.

  And that morning, before the grand reopening, everyone was back. Well, everyone except Fiona Fleming. She was now incarcerated and directing the prison theater—Midnight at the Barclay Hotel was her first play. Rumor has it, Gerrit Hofstra’s ghost is haunting the prison.

  But at the real Barclay Hotel, there was no more murder. The rooms were clean, the carousel was properly serviced, and the pool’s slide was ready for new guests to barrel down into the water. Even the hedge maze was freshly trimmed—miraculously so, overnight. Mr. Roberts might’ve had something to do with it. The ghosts at the Barclay Hotel were just as excited as the humans to finally have guests again.

  “Hey, JJ,” Penny called from the other end of the den. “Do you know what happened to the twelfth EMF detector?”

  JJ and Penny were in charge of the ghost hunting tour, along with JJ’s mom and dad. His parents were interested in the paranormal now too, once they figured out how exciting and fun ghost hunting is.

  “I’ll bet my mom has that one,” JJ muttered under his breath. Jackie Jacobson was convinced she would catch the ghost of Mrs. Barclay. A few times, she’d accidentally caught Emma, which was pretty fun for JJ and Penny.

  Mr. Barclay was checking up on the Cupcake Shoppe, which was fully stocked. And Chef Pierre was trying out new pancake recipes.

  Buck Jones was outside, getting Lemon Drop used to the higher altitude for horseback rides that weekend. Once he realized that a candy shop and a horseback-riding stable weren’t such a good mix (no one liked horse hair in their candy bag), he focused his attention on sharing his love of horses with kids.

  Detective Walker decided to open up his own detective agency, with Penny as his assistant when she was visiting. He was now walking the grounds to see that the hotel was secure.

  And Ms. Chelsea was busy setting up the library, along with an audiobo
ok corner, which was quickly becoming JJ’s favorite way to read. Reading was a lot easier when he could listen along to the words. Ms. Chelsea got her library grant and decided that instead of an arcade, a giant slide, and a train, she would spend the money on an amazing kid hangout.

  JJ managed to pass his classes, with Penny’s and his parents’ help. He was relieved that it was summer now—no school, and no more snow for a while.

  Mr. Barclay walked into the den, looked out the big windows toward the driveway, and sighed.

  “Are you ready, Mr. Barclay?” JJ asked him.

  “Two hundred invitations.” Penny whistled through her teeth. “That’s a lot of kids.”

  Mr. Barclay smiled. “It’s about time this place was filled with children’s laughter,” he said. “I miss it.”

  JJ and Penny could see Emma standing right next to her dad. She had a proud smile on her face.

  “I can feel her presence sometimes, you know,” Mr. Barclay said softly. “And her mother’s. Right here in the den.”

  “I think we can too,” Penny said with a smile to JJ and Emma.

  Mr. Barclay perked up when he saw the first bus pull up the long driveway. It was full of children, plus their parents. “Here they are,” he said.

  The first ghost hunting tour was at eight that evening, and everyone was ready—JJ, his parents, Penny, Detective Walker, and of course, Emma.

  The buses unloaded, and kids were piling out.

  “Stragglers,” Emma said with a grin.

  “So many stragglers,” JJ said.

  Mr. Barclay smiled. “Stragglers are my favorite kind of guests.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  If you read the book before these acknowledgments, you probably figured out that I really, really love mysteries. And I owe a bit of thanks for that to a librarian. As a kid, I was an overzealous reader who’d read most children’s books at our library when I discovered Agatha Christie’s mysteries at the suggestion of a librarian. I’ve been hooked ever since. I don’t remember the librarian’s name, but I will thank every librarian now—there aren’t enough pages to express how important you are, the times you had just the right book, or how often you made me feel at home when I was the new kid in town. Thank you.