Westly lifted Holly to the ledge of the banister. She gripped the bar tightly and hoisted herself over the banister. She helped Westly dislodge himself from the stairs.

“How is your knee?” She asked, worried.

Westly nodded, gritting his teeth.

“Go after Jordan,” he grimaced.

Reaching into his coat, he handed her the 30-30 revolver. She cocked the hammer back and ran down the staircase, leaping over Robert as she did. Pumping down each stair, trying to push past the feeling of freefalling that she experienced. Her heart was pounding as she passed Brock’s lifeless husk on the floor. The blood slowly oozed towards the door. She snapped herself out of it and turned her trot into a full-on sprint. She made her way out the door taking the stone steps in strides. With each heavy bound, her adrenaline consumed her thoughts and she didn’t even feel the cold breeze breaking against her skin. The figure dressed in black was midway across the open parking lot, weaving in and out of each car, trying to disappear. Holly bolted towards the figure keeping pace. The figure made it up to road leading up to the hotel. It was roughly paved; several areas were still open dirt. On the left side of the road was the foothill that the mountain rested on. The right was a drop off side of the mountain that disappeared into a dark heavy forest.

The rain had returned slightly, dripping down Holly’s hair. She lifted the revolver, weaving out into the darkness. The light from the hotel only extended as far as the parking lot. The road was pure darkness. Holly squinted, her heart pounding, trying to make anything out in the darkness. The clanking sound of metal rang out and she turned to see Jordan had climbed to the top of the guardrail. Holly sighted the revolver, inhaled, and fired. The shot rang out, echoing throughout mountain. Jordan tumbled over the side of the guardrail, crashing down the side of the mountain, the empty sound of crushing sticks and falling rocks was heard but no scream.

“Damn it, I hope I didn’t kill him,” she muttered to herself.

Holly ran down to the guardrail. The rail had a small blood stain that had dripped down the girder. She aimed the gun down the mountain. The empty darkness didn’t even have a trail to start. Jordan was gone. She lowered the gun and released the hammer. She took a breath as if she had forgotten how to. Robert ran full speed toward her, stopping abruptly at the guardrail.

“Where is he?” He snapped.

“I shot him, but he fell down the mountain,” she responded through each big gulp.

“You sure you got him?” Robert asked heatedly.

“Yeah? Look at the blood!” Holly responded, dumbfounded.

She pointed to the girder, but the rain had washed the small bit of blood off it.

“What blood?” Robert responded.

“The rain washed it off,” Holly said exasperated.

“Sure, it did. I will get a crew out maybe we can catch him before he gets to the interstate.”

Holly threw her hands up in frustration. Robert pulled his phone out and began dialing. By this time Westly had limped up to them. He extended his hand and Holly handed him back his revolver.

“I shot him, he’s wounded,” she said with anger still in her voice.

“Good job,” Westly stated, still very much in pain.

Robert hung up his phone.

“I got a crew coming up in a couple hours, I need to contact State Patrol and see if they have seen him try to make his way to the interstate.”

“He won’t leave if he is wounded,” Westly said.

“He’s not wounded, she just missed.” Robert said dismissively.

“I didn’t miss!” Holly shouted.

“I didn’t hear a scream! I heard the gun shot and then nothing! How do you explain that!” Robert shouted back.

“I don’t miss! You want me to call my former C.O. he will gladly tell your pompous ass! There was blood on the guardrail, the rain washed it away!”

Westly stood between them.

“It is 2am and there is a man in the middle of a hotel lobby with his brains staining the carpet. As you said, Robert, you have a crew in a couple of hours and as you said Holly if he is wounded, he won’t be hard to catch. I suggest we deal with the problems in front of us, mainly the problem of me being the mediator.”

The trio stood in silence. Robert nodded.

“I will go talk to the hotel manager,” he said in a huff.

Turning up his coat. He started to walk away. Westly coughed back to him and held up his hands still handcuffed. Robert sighed and uncuffed him.

“Also, Robert how about you arrest me after this all over, you know where I live.”

Robert walked away not saying a word. Holly helped Westly support his leg. Her lip was quivering and shaking.

“I didn’t miss.”

“I believe you. Jordan hit the floor from a two-story fall and still got up and ran out the door.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re the solider, you tell me.”

“You think Jordan was in the military?”

“It would explain a lot. The preplanning, the brainwashing, the quick attacks, and the ability to push through pain.”

Westly bit his lip and gripped the girder tight.

“Did your knee go out?” She asked.

“I think so, let me lay down for a bit and I should be ready to go.”

Holly hoisted him on her shoulder and walked him back to the hotel. They pushed passed Brock’s corpse, to the elevators, the hallway, and the hotel room. Holly set Westly on the bed. He rolled over and fell asleep. She took the other bed, tipping onto her side, and fell asleep.

Snapping awake, she stood up and swung forward, grabbing the phone and throwing it at the door. The cable reached its length, caught the phone, and fell to the floor with a loud clang. Westly was awake sitting in a chair across from her. He had a glass of water with a little bit of lemon in it. She looked at him. He gave her a half smile.

“You sure showed that phone.”

“Go to hell,” she said putting her head back on the pillow.

Westly stood up and brought her a cup of coffee. The steam billowed out of the rim, making it look overly delicious to Holly. She grabbed the coffee and sat up on the bed.

“What time is it?” She said, engrossing herself in the coffee.

“10 am,” Westly responded, taking his spot back in the chair.

Holly jumped out of the bed, nearly spilling her coffee. She rubbed her eyes.

“We have to see what they have found.”

“They didn’t find anything; I did though, had them search the area for blood and low and behold they found some. You got him.”

Holly smiled, feeling very vindicated in her abilities. She sat back down to her coffee, feeling as if she could enjoy it, sipping it slowly.

“How’s your knee?” She asked again.

“Much better, I don’t think I reinjured it, just put some strain on it. How are you after that fall?”

Holly shrugged. Westly set his glass of water on the table, stood as if he was going to say something to her, but was cut off by a knock on the door. Holly looked at him perplexed.

“You expecting someone?”

Westly shook his head and quickly moved to his coat. Gripping the handle of the revolver, he walked to the door. He peered through the eye hole, looking back at Holly, he opened the door. There stood Summer. Her hair was no longer curled and looked quite unkempt. Her mascara was poorly layered on her eyes. She was dressed in one of the hotel robes, but she had blue t-shirt under it and pink striped socks. She seemed surprised to see Westly.

“Oh, I thought Miss Yan was alone. I will come back later.”

Westly stuffed the gun back into his pocket.

“No please come in,” he said warmly.

“It isn’t what you think,” Holly chimed in.

Summer sheepishly looked at Westly, who sighed and ushered Summer to the chair. Holly, realizing she made everything a little more awkward, buried her face into the cup. Summer sat down looking deadly at the floor.

“Can I get you anything Summer?” Westly asked breaking the silence.

“No, thank you.”

She folded her hands, over and over.

“I heard about Brock…he was always so sweet.”

“I knew he was part of your fencing team,” Holly said.

“Well, he and I we…I feel like my world is just crumbling.”

Westly set down his glass, walked over to the door, and locked the night latch. He came back into the main room and sat on the corner of the other bed.

“Summer, anything you tell us we will do our best to keep confidential and only be used in the process of getting justice for Autumn,” he said stern but soft. Summer nodded.

“Back in college, Brock and I were an item, well more than an item I…I don’t know how to say it.”

“Were you guys serious?” Holly asked.

Summer nodded still looking at the floor.

“I wasn’t very nice to him. He was this big outdoorsy guy and I wanted to, well, not do that.”

“There is nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” Holly comforted.

Summer’s eyes welled up with tears and she turned her look from the floor to the window.

“I thought, I thought by helping Autumn having her wedding here was just me being a good sister, but I think I just wanted to see him again. Apologize, maybe, for everything. But I don’t know.”

Holly set her coffee down and went over to Summer, sitting down on the arm of her chair and taking Summer’s hand.

“I can’t lose anyone else. I wish Forest was here. He always knows…”

Westly leaned in.

“What can you tell us about Jordan?”

Summer wiped her tears.

“Jordan was…complicated. We bonded really well at first but when I started dating Brock things changed.”

“How so?” asked Holly.

“I think Jordan was always jealous of Brock and I. Autumn did her best, but Jordan became distant and more culty.”

“The Order of Dying Star?” Westly asked.

Summer shook her head.

“No… that wasn’t it that something earthy.”

“Earthy?” Holly asked.

“Yeah, like The Shrine of Earth or something like that. It was about being closer with the earth and the environment. I just figured it was about holistic medicine.”

“Holistic medicine?” Westly inquired.

“Jordan had this condition; I am not sure what it was. I think Autumn knew though. She would visit Jordan at the rehab center?”

“When was this?” Westly asked.

“A couple of months ago. I think Autumn wanted us all together. That was her blessing, her curse. She cared for literally everyone, even someone like Jordan.”

“What do you mean by that?” Westly asked.

Summer looked at the door and gripped Holly’s hand tighter.

“Jordan and I had a fight, it got physical and I…may have exasperated what the condition was.”

Westly motioned his hand.

“Please continue.”

“Well…I…kind of kicked out Jordan’s eye. I mean I don’t know if I did… there was blood there was yelling and I don’t know…I apologized but that was last conversation we had.”

“What was the fight about?” Holly asked.

“Brock…”

Summer broke into tears, holding her hands tightly against her face.

“I’m sorry,” she shrieked.

She bolted up from chair, rushed to the door, flung open the night latch, and darted out into the hallway.

“Summer!” Westly and Holly called back to her.

They made to the hallway, but Summer had run down to the elevator bay. Westly started after her but Holly caught his arm.

“Let her go. She lost two people she loved in less than three days. I am amazed she is even vocal.”

Westly nodded and the two went back into the hotel room.

“So, what do you think?” Westly asked.

“I think Jordan was jealous that Summer picked the big buff Brock instead of his small little body. Decided to kill Autumn as a way making Summer hurt.”

“And the Order of Dying Star?”

“Another ruse?”

Westly shrugged.

“I think one mystery was solved. How you could shoot Jordan and he didn’t even feel it. Whatever condition he has I think he is doped up on pain killers. Would explain the fall and the gunshot wound. I should call Robert, if he is doped up, he needs to know it, he isn’t going down easy.

Westly took out his phone, starting to dial when there was another knock on the door.

“How many people did you give this room number to?” Holly asked jokingly.

“Just Robert, but I think this his way of keeping me locked up.”

Westly went to the door and looked through the eye hole. He looked back at Holly with a confused look. He opened the door to reveal a tall man with messy blonde hair. He was dressed in a casual button-down shirt, sky-blue jeans, and white tennis shoes. His eyes were red, and he looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Westly Gibbons?” He said in a horse voice.

“Yeah?” Westly said.

“I’m Forest Brookstone. Deputy Estevez said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yes Forest, please come on in.”

He let Forest into the room. Forest took the seat recently vacated by Summer. He sat down and looked around the hotel like a kid in the principal’s office. Holly extended her hand to him.

“Holly Yan.”

“Holly?” Forest asked softly.

He tried to reach for her hand but quickly pulled it back gripping his right shoulder and grimacing. Holly withdrew her hand quickly.

“Trust me you don’t want her full name,” Westly said with a smile.

Holly scratched her eye with her middle finger but kept her gaze on Forest. Westly stood next to Forest and Holly sat back on her bed.

“What can I do for you?” Forest asked.

“Actually, Forest we were hoping you could tell us about Jordan Vernal and the Flowers of War.”

“Flowers of War, that takes me back. Is that what this is all about? Jordan wants to hurt us all because Autumn was the only one who visited.”

“Can you tell us more about Jordan’s condition?”

“No, but Jordan didn’t really talk to anyone but Autumn. I did my best, but I lost my temper more than once. I heard Jordan murdered Brock last night as well.”

“You have a lot of information for someone who just arrived,” Holly said sternly.

“I spoke to my mother before coming here. She filled me in on your work. The…mutilation, the letter, the cult all of it. Once I heard Foxgloves, I knew…I knew who it was.”

Forest put his face in hands like Summer had.

“I knew Jordan was crazy, but how could someone butcher the person who was so nice to them.”

“I think Autumn attempted to reason with Jordan and didn’t know what that would cost,” Westly said putting his hand on Forest arm.

“In the letter Jordan didn’t seem violent, if anything it seemed more risqué,” Holly added.

“I don’t understand, could I perhaps see the letter,” Forest said sounding lost

Westly walked over to his coat and grabbed the bottle of lavender perfume. He pulled out the letter and handed it to Forest.

“Why was it in that bottle?”

“That is how Jordan delivered it to her.”

“That is odd cause…well.”

He cut himself off as he began to read the letter. He looked up at the two of them with a look of fear on his face.

“What is it?” Holly asked.

“Lavender wasn’t Autumn’s nickname. It was Summer’s.