Murder at the Wolds Hotel Page #2

I wrote this story because I love a good mystery and especially like to solve one.

• Mystery

								

	She arrived in the cobblestone horseshoe driveway which encircled a large manicured garden. The massive building towered before her. Jenny flew open the car doors, rushed to the back of the car, hauled open the trunk, and pulled out each suitcase, which she then dragged across the driveway, onto the small porch. 
	She was kindly greeted by a woman dressed in a silky white dress. She gestured for Jenny to enter the large french doors, which without hesitance, she did. 
	The great room was decorated with black and white checkered tiles, a small french table in the center of the room with a bouquet of purple, white, and red flowers on it, and a glistening glass chandelier that overhung the table. In the back of the room were two sweeping spiral staircases, each leading to opposite directions, and covered in a Cardinal red carpet. 
	The lady led her through a door on one of the walls, and she entered a small, dimly lit room with a reception desk, and a row of keys on the wall behind it. Jenny stopped walking just before the reception desk, and the women entered behind it.
	A few minutes later, Jenny was handed the key and she made her way to her room. 
	Inside held two beds, a desk, a television, two bedside tables, a window, and a bathroom. Jenny began to unpack. She sat on the bed facing the television. The sun radiated through the window on her right side.
	A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door. The knob twisted and Emma entered the room. 

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“What are you doing here?” Jenny asked. Standing in the doorway was her identical twin sister. She had the same blond hair, tied in a french braid, and a matching bow on top. Her eyes were the same icy blue, blinkless—obscuring trauma from the moment their parents could no longer afford them, to the moment they began to fight.
	Jenny contemplated why Emma hated her. And why she hated Emma. It wasn’t only after Emma left her. It must’ve been a way to cope with everything that happened to them. Yet even when Jenny tried, Emma would persist. 
	“I was told that we could find our parents from a historian tomorrow.”
	“Same.” Jenny said. “Why are you in my room?”
	“I didn’t choose this. The receptionist gave me the room key to this room.”
	“She gave me the room key to this room too. It must’ve been a mistake.”
“We better go see her.”
Emma flung the door wide open and walked gracefully down the hall. At the same time, the door to their left flung open and Emma and a young man collided. A gold pocket watch flew out of his jacket pocket and into the wall, damaging the glass. 
“That was a thousand dollar pocket watch!” He exclaimed. “Watch where you’re bloody going!” 
Emma dusted off her dress and stood up, shocked. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered.
He chuckled in rebuke, “You better pay me back. Now I don’t know what time my next meeting is.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. We both collided. It wasn’t my fault. I can’t pay you back though.”
He grunted, still irked. “Watch where you’re going. I would like for you to repay me.”
“I’m sorry sir. I just don’t have enough money.”
“Arthur,” he hissed.
He dusted off his suit and stood up. He was a young man who appeared to be very wealthy. He had dark brown hair combed to the side and a stiff voice.
“I’m sorry Arthur.”
Arthur grabbed his suitcase and scurried down the hallway, peering back in repugnance. He was shaking his head.
Emma turned to face Jenny, cackling in the doorframe. 
“Shut up,” Emma said. She hurried down the hallway and Jenny followed.
Outside, flakes of snow began to drop to the floor, covering the ground with white. The clouds had turned grayer, and no light was to be seen. 
When they reached the reception desk on the floor below, they found the lady studying the wall clock across from her. 
She smiled, “Is everything okay?” 
Emma shook her head and said, “We’re in the same room! And our room’s door crashes into another one. I would like to request an immediate room switch.”
The woman gazed at a logbook. She clicked her tongue and flipped through the pages. “I’m sorry there are no available rooms at all. We’re booked out,” she said.
“Why are we in the same one?” 
The woman checked the logbook again, “You two were booked in the same room and requested it.”
Both twins glared at each other in anger. “No, we didn’t,” they said simultaneously. 
“We didn’t book the rooms. Our friend did,” Jenny added.
Emma stormed back to the room and Jenny followed. The open logbook lay flat on the table as they left, with their room number 204 circled on the date. There was nothing that said they were to be in the same room. Neither of them were marked down in the logbook. Beneath the counter was a shelf with a large bundle of money in a briefcase. 
Back at the room, Jenny unlocked the door. On top of the table that held the television was a picture of Emma and her adopted parents leaving Jenny. 
Jenny stared at it, stock-still and inarticulate. Her eyes were riveted on Emma’s smiling face, and the faint depiction of Jenny, defeated on the side of the picture. 
“Emma, every time I see you you can’t help but bring up your decision. I thought so many years later we could have moved past it and you would have learned to have stayed with your sister even if you were offered an adoption. You could have asked them to bring me too. But you didn’t, because you wanted to flaunt me for not being chosen first. Well I’m sick and tired of it.”
Emma’s eye shifted to the open door, and in abashment she threw it closed, just after a couple of people down the hall started staring at them. 
“I swear Jenny, I didn’t put that picture there. I don’t have that picture. You know I didn’t. This is really creeping me out. And I accepted the adoption because I figured that you could be a sensible sister and understand that sometimes people have to take what they have in hand. But being the selfish sister you are, you couldn’t be happy for my success. I knew I never should have come here.”
“I would’ve thought I wouldn’t have to share a room with you. I never want to hear your voice again!” Jenny responded. 
“Well you better get used to it,” Emma responded, “Because whether you like it or not, I'm not leaving.”
Jenny grabbed her room key from her pocket and stuck it into the door.
“I’ll be in the restaurant, and I don’t expect to see you!” Jenny hissed. She threw the door back open and slammed it behind her. A tear dripped down the inside corner of her nose. She just wanted her parents. 

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