Westly handed Holly a Brandy Old Fashioned. She downed it in one gulp, using her other hand to grip the black leather chair. Westly took the chair next to her. They sat in silence for second, before Westly took her glass and set it on the end table.

“You ready?” He asked warmly.

She nodded. They both stood up and made their way to the door, police caution tape covering it up. They stepped under it back into the room. The horror was just bad as when they had left. Several officers were collecting forensic samples and stuffing them in bags. Holly began looking at the message scrawled in marker on the mirror. Westly just leaned against the wall to the door. Holly noticed his nonchalant attitude, but before she could talk to him, Robert marched over.

“Straight Razor, care the join the class,” he said angrily

“Not overly,” Westly responded, without looking at Robert.

Robert took his hat off and massaged the back of his neck.

“Wes, you can be a dick to me all day if you like but this half-cocked bullshit is going to get someone killed and from the look of it the killer duped both you and Holly. So how about instead of being such an arrogant asshole you can get to work.”

“Did you get me the footage of the front desk agent who assisted Holly?”

Robert reached into his coat and pulled out a DVD in a case.

“Manager said no one has seen a dark hair woman working at the desk. The only dark-haired woman they had moved to Boise a year ago.”

“I wouldn’t contact the folks in Boise just yet,” Westly said sarcastically as he took the DVD from Robert.

Westly walked over where Holly was standing.

“Taint the virgin?” He said inquisitively.

Fishing into his pocket he pulled out his pointer and touched the letters.

“Robert, I have read a lot of creepy texts and I have never come across this statement. You don’t want to taint a virgin because then they become useless to sacrifice.”

All of the officers in the room stopped what they were doing and stared at Westly. Westly rolled his eyes.

“Everyone calm down. I am just stating facts such as Kennedy was shot, and Coke is better than Pepsi.”

“That second one isn’t a fact,” Holly chimed in.

“What is your point Straight Razor?” Robert snapped.

“My point, Robert, is that this killer is using a text I haven’t read. Which means it is incredibly rare. If we find which text it came from, we can trace the person who bought it faster.”

Robert uncrossed his arms and pulled out his phone.

“Alright let’s start there. You guys call every library you know-”

Westly shook his head.

“Actually, Robert, I need to have Holly view this tape. You guys get started on that and we will come back and check your progress.”

“We will?” Holly asked perplexed.

Westly nodded and took her arm. Robert stopped them before they could reach the door.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Westly leaned in and whispered to Robert.

“This guy is not going to be satisfied with just her.”

Robert went white. Westly pushed past him out of the room.

“I will keep you posted Robert,” he called back to him.

They walked into the hall. As they passed the first garbage can, Westly tossed the DVD in. Holly was dumbfounded and pulled the DVD out.

“What the hell are you doing?” She snapped.

“We don’t need it. The woman knew she was on camera and knew she wouldn’t be recognized.”

“You didn’t need to throw it out.”

Westly walked Holly over to the elevators. She noticed he seemed happy, as if someone had given him a gift.

“You seem better?” She asked inquisitively

“The case isn’t ritualistic.”

Holly stared at him in shock.

“The room-,” She blurted.

“Little over the top if you ask me,” Westly said staring at the elevator buttons.

“You think this was set up?”

“Look at the evidence. Autumn was laid like a sacrificed lamb on her bed. We found a bag of torn up body parts at the base of the tree and to top it off the room you were given is full of all the material to create these crimes? Somebody is going to a lot of trouble to make this seem like it is ritualistic, and we need to get out in front of them.”

The elevator doors opened and the two stepped on. Westly jammed his thumb in the “L” several times before the door shut.

“So why lie to Robert?”

“If the killer is watching us, he is likely watching the police. If we intended to go left, then the police need to go right.”

The elevator doors opened, and they made their way into the lobby. The lobby was mostly deserted. A couple people were on their phones and a few more dozed by the fire place.

“I assume we start with the desk?” Holly asked pointing towards the front desk. Westly nodded.

They walked up the desk and rang the bell. A short, heavy-set woman in a gray pant suit rushed to the desk. She grabbed the edge panting heavily with short bursts. She wore large glasses the looked like two eggs on their side. Her name tag said “Maggie.” She forced a smile and greeted them.

“So sorry about that mix up. My manager told me what happed. So terrible. Let’s see if I can get you into a mountain facing suite.”

“Actually, some information would be more helpful,” Westly said with a smile.

Maggie tapped the counter quite violently.

“I told the deputy no one has seen a dark-haired woman since Judy left and I had never seen her and-”

“I was actually going to ask if you had anyone working behind the desk who has a vibrant unnatural hair color.”

Maggie stared at him wide eyes, occasionally looking over to Holly for guidance.

“Yes, Baily, she has sea foam green hair…but…she is on vacation though, she left a couple of days ago.”

Westly clapped his hands with joy.

“May we see Baily’s locker?”

It was Holly’s turn to stare at Westly, dumbfounded. Maggie shook her head.

“I can’t, it violates our policy for staff privacy. You would need a search warrant.”

Westly leaned on the counters and smiled at her.

“Trust me, Baily would want someone to take a look. Someone has been hiding something in her locker.”

Maggie looked at Holly.

“Trust him,” Holly said with a sigh.

Maggie nodded as she reached under the desk for the master key.

“Follow me,” she said in a shallow voice.

They followed her from behind the desk to the back office. Three small tables sat in the center of the back office. Their black hue looked like those in the main lobby, but they had either large cracks or divots in them. Several chairs creating an “L” shape sat around the back wall and two vending machines were on the right-hand corner next to a set of three lockers. Maggie walked to the far-left locker facing perpendicular to the wall. She inserted the key in the lock and twisted. The lock turned but the door wouldn’t open. She kept turning and pulling but the door wouldn’t budge.

“It is stuck?” She said with surprise in her voice.

“Lift up,” Holly said.

Maggie twisted the lock and lifted the door up. It popped open and a sea foam green wig fell on the floor along with the shirt, pants, and shoes of the hotel’s uniform. Maggie clasped her hand on her mouth. Westly leaned down and lifted the sea foam green wig with his pointer and looked at it. He began reaching into the pockets of the shirt and pants. Holly leaned down next him.

“Wes, what the living hell is going on?” She said in a whisper.

“Jordan is playing a game. The body was staged, the jacket was easy to find, and room was a given. These are all taunts.”

“For who?”

“For us.”

Westly pulled his hand out of the pants, stood up, and kicked the clothes.

“Hmm, not what I was expecting.”

“Looking for more lavender perfume?”

Westly shook his head.

“She disguised herself as someone she knew would be out of town to get access to the system to create a room for us. That seems like a lot of trouble just to give us the middle finger.”

“You think she’s Jordan’s accomplice? Maybe helped him carry the body from the woods? Access to the system was so she could be in the room when Jordan came down from the mountain with the body?”

“Possibly, what I do know is, we weren’t meant to find this. There is no taunt, no gore, no shock, just clothes. She might be coming back.”

“What?” Maggie squeaked.

Westly grabbed all of the clothes and slammed them back in the locker.

“Maggie make sure if someone accesses this locker you can identify them.” Westly said with a smile.

Maggie nodded.

“How did you know she was disguising herself as Bailey?” Maggie asked.

“Most people’s face is the thing that stands out unless they have a specific trait, facial hair, specific clothes, or iconic hair. Given that we were looking for a woman it was the most likely guess to assume that she went with crazy hair color over anything else.

“That is amazing,” Maggie gasped.

Westly smiled. Holly rolled her eyes.

“Make sure if anyone checks in under the name Jordan Vernal to contact the police immediately. He is a small skinny person with dark eyes and hair,” Holly said.

The two left the back office and made their way back to the lobby. As they arrived in the main lobby, Holly grabbed Westly’s arm.

“I just got a sick feeling. What if our mystery woman is Summer?”

“Why would you say that?”

“She seems easily manipulated, she lied to me about not seeing her sister after the rehearsal, and we know she and Jordan have a history.”

“But do you think she would want to kill Autumn? And if so, what for?” Westly inquired.

Holly shrugged.

“Like you said all we know is that Jordan enlisted the help of a woman to mess with us. From what Beth said it doesn’t sound like Jordan had many female friends outside of the Brookstone sisters, so it stands to reason that one of the sisters helped him.”

Holly sat on one of the couches. Westly motioned Maggie to him.

“Please grab Miss Yan another Brandy Old Fashioned.”

He handed two tens to Maggie who hurried down to the bar. Westly sat next to Holly.

“Don’t…,” she snapped

“I was just going ask if you wanted to play Scrabble?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Maybe that should be my nickname instead of Straight Razor.” Westly joked.

He rubbed her shoulder.

“It is not going to be like Casper and it also not going to be like Reno.”

Holly puckered her lips and gripped the couch.

“You remember Reno? I thought you were stoned that whole case.”

“Funny.”

Maggie came back up with the Brandy Old Fashioned. Holly thanked her and downed it.

“I hate games,” she slurred as she swallowed the drink.

“I am very aware. So, let me play the game.”

Holly nodded.

“So, what’s our next play?”

“We need know more about Jordan to find out what game he is playing. See if you can track down Summer or Forest and see if either of them knows more about Jordan’s mentality than Beth.”

“Forest isn’t here. The aunt Prissy or Pretty, some weird name, she said Forest was stuck in Baltimore, he was going to be here tomorrow.”

“Why is he stuck in Baltimore? Right-that tropic storm. Okay, well see if Summer can be any help. I am going to see if Jordan’s helper is floating around somewhere. If she disguised herself as a front desk agent, she might try something else, and right now my money is on server.”

Holly nodded and the two parted. Holly made her way to the elevators and Westly hopped up the staircase again to the main dining area. He stared at the room. Mostly couples having dinner. A few groups of hikers and skiers, as well as a handful singles at the bar. The hostess approached him.

“Hello, just you or are you waiting for a party?”

Westly shook his head.

“Just me, but could I make a request? I am the investigator with the Brookstone case, and I want to get a good look at this room. Could I possibly get a booth?”

“It would seem odd. We only give booths to parties of three or more,” she said, confused.

“I am counting on it,” he said handing her a twenty.

She shrugged and brought him to a booth on the far left of the open dining area, nearly on top of the giant bay windows. Westly took a seat, surveying the whole dining area.

“Would you like me to send over a server or would that not be odd enough?”

Her mellow tone made it hard for Westly to figure out if she was seriously trying to help or just annoyed with him. He decided to bank on the latter.

“A menu is fine,” he said half interested.

She dropped the menu on the table and walked away from him. Westly began looking at each of the waitstaff. There was a tall boy with a buzz cut, another was overweight with a curlicue mustache. There was a woman in sixties with dyed blonde hair. Another woman with a pixie-cut and a diamond stud in her nose. Nothing like the black-haired woman Holly said she saw at the front desk. Westly sighed and checked his watch.

“Perhaps she is hiding out in housekeeping,” he thought.

He grabbed the menu out of habit and opened it. There was a note stapled to the menu and written in cursive with the same dark marker as the mirror.

Det. Gibbon,

We hope that we made ourselves clear with the mural you read in your room. We hope that you have taken us very seriously. You are aware of our customs and have tried to prevent us from achieving our blessing before. We hope that you have learned your lesson and will not interfere any longer. This is our last peaceful request. Don’t make us ask again.

The Order of Dying Star

Westly dropped the menu as if it was on fire. He snapped his eyes over to the hostess station. The woman was gone.

“Son of a-,” he yelled to himself.

He jumped out of the booth and ran over to the hostess station. No sign of anyone ever being there. He darted down the staircase to the main lobby. He looked around the atrium sharply, trying not to seem panicked. He turned his gaze to the door at the bar. He then turned to the elevator bay and then to the front desk. She was gone. He pulled out his phone and began dialing Holly.

“Det. Gibbon?” A voice from behind him said.

Westly clenched the 30-30 in coat and slowly turned around to face whoever it was. It was a tall man about 6’1”. He had on a white dress shirt that was largely open at the neck. He had jean jacket that seemed tight on his large forearms, along with a thick red beard with patches of black scattered throughout it. Though he was tall in stature, his eyes seemed soft and his face seemed timid.

“Can I help you?” Westly said slightly annoyed.

“I heard you were looking for me,” the man said.

“And you are?”

“Jordan Vernal.”