THIS WAS NOT going at all according to JJ’s plan. His mom had motive and opportunity—she was even there the day Mr. Barclay died!
“Of course, I didn’t actually kill Mr. Barclay,” JJ’s mom added. “At the time of his death I was on my way home, on a conference call.”
“Of course you didn’t kill Mr. Barclay,” JJ said with a nervous laugh. Because he remembered what Penny had said about motive, means, and opportunity. To any detective, his mom was still a suspect. Just because JJ knew his mom could never kill anyone didn’t mean she was cleared.
“I’m sorry to get you mixed up in the murder investigation, JJ,” his mom said.
“It’s okay.” JJ thought about the whopper of a secret he was keeping from her. He’d never shown her the letter he’d been carrying around in his backpack.
“Well, maybe you can at least get some of your ghost hunting in,” his mom said with a smile. “I know that’s the whole reason you wanted to come here.”
“And to spend time with you,” JJ said. Right about now, JJ felt really guilty about keeping that letter from his mom. It was hard to keep a secret around Jackie Jacobson. “But nighttime is good for ghost hunting.”
“Just be careful. Oh, and JJ?” his mom said behind him.
“Yeah.”
“Take the stairs.”
MEANWHILE, PENNY WAS looking for Ms. Chelsea to find out her motive to kill Mr. Barclay, but the librarian was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t in the bowling alley, the carousel room, the Cupcake Shoppe (which made Penny hungry), or the den. After running all over the hotel, Penny paused and asked herself:
Where would a librarian go, if she were visiting the Barclay Hotel . . . ?
The answer was suddenly so obvious that Penny felt foolish for not thinking of it earlier. She opened the heavy wooden doors and went inside the library. Penny stood amongst the bookcases lining the walls. The library smelled like old books and polished wood, and the upper level (reachable only by a spiral staircase), expanded as far as her eyes could see. This was Penny’s favorite place to be—she felt at home in the library.
She took it all in and let out a sigh of delight. This had to be what heaven was like.
It was so quiet. This was the kind of silence that Penny loved when she was reading—there was nothing like being alone with a book, and getting lost in a story.
But when Penny returned her attention to the task at hand, she realized that Ms. Chelsea wasn’t in the library.
“Ms. Chelsea?” she called, even though she was pretty sure no one would respond. “Hello . . . ?”
She looked up to see a black shape dart away. It looked like a cat. Penny loved animals, and hoped she’d be able to catch up to it.
Penny went up the staircase. Her footsteps were loud, echoing off the walls and the huge window that overlooked the valley. This place was amazing. She wished she’d brought her phone now, to take pictures for her friends at home.
Penny ran her fingers along the book spines, smiling.
She was busy getting lost amongst the books again when she heard a loud THUMP! She jumped, then saw that deeper into the library stacks, there was a big book on the floor. Penny walked over and picked it up, although she recognized the book by the picture of the hotel on the front.
The History of the Barclay Hotel
Obviously, someone really wanted her to read it. Maybe it was a ghost, she thought to herself. Whatever, or whoever, it was surely wanted her to take this book—borrow it, just for the weekend. Right?
“Penny?”
She walked over to the railing to see who was calling her name.
Her grandpa was waiting down on the main level of the library. “Where have you been?”
“Here,” Penny said, which of course wasn’t entirely true. She had been on that elevator, but she was afraid that if her grandpa knew that, he’d want to go home immediately. “I’ve just been here with the books.”
And maybe the ghosts.
Penny smiled at her grandpa. “With the books,” she repeated.
The detective gave her a funny look, as if he knew she was acting odd. But then he said, “Don’t stay up too late,” before turning around to leave. “We’re leaving tomorrow. There are too many shenanigans going on here,” he muttered on his way out.
Penny clutched her book and tried to shake the nagging sense that someone was watching her.
Seeing her grandpa reminded Penny of what she was supposed to do: find Ms. Chelsea and figure out what her motive was to kill Mr. Barclay.
Penny made her way down the spiral staircase. Before she left the library, she hesitated. Was this place really haunted?
But then she thought better of it.
“Poppycock,” Penny whispered when she closed the heavy doors behind her.
There was no such thing as ghosts, and Penny would prove it.