THE BARCLAY HOTEL can be a confusing place, especially when you’re on the hunt for a murderer. But by now JJ, Penny, and Emma had gathered a lot of information. And like any good detective trio, they’d been writing down all the clues they found and keeping track of the suspects, and they had figured out one important thing.

Mr. Barclay was right: everyone had a motive.

Fiona Fleming didn’t get the acting job she worked so hard for.

JJ’s mom could lose her beloved PB&JJ.

Buck Jones wasn’t able to buy the ranch.

Ms. Chelsea lost her library funding.

In each of these four cases, Mr. Barclay had stood in the way of the suspects getting what they wanted. Plus, there was a new lead to investigate.

There was something off about Mr. Clark; he didn’t appear to be who he said he was.

The clock would soon strike midnight, and the Barclay Hotel would once again go silent. Not everyone was sleeping, however, especially not those with motive to worry about. Those four suspects were probably tossing and turning in their plush beds, wondering how they were going to get out of this mess.

Emma couldn’t sleep either. After she left JJ and Penny that evening, she went over the evidence again. And all that excitement over finally having friends at the hotel had her brain buzzing. So she decided to do what she always did when she couldn’t sleep: take a stroll around the hotel.

It was just before midnight when Emma settled into one of the poufy chairs in the den. Emma loved how the chairs seemed to wrap around you all cozy.

She waited for the clock to chime—and sure enough, there it was. (It also played Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” afterward, to add to the suspense). Emma wasn’t afraid of ghosts, so she hummed along to the tune.

Emma relaxed on the chair and looked out the windows.

While the clock played its song, a lady in white floated down the stairs, Mr. Roberts walked in as if he’d been working in the garden, and a little kid with marbles ran up and down the den. But Emma missed the whole thing. Her eyes were on the windows—or more accurately, on the trees and the massive valley below.

It was quiet in the hotel, the kind of silence that in the Colorado Rockies invites nature to bring a little drama.

Because at exactly midnight, it began to snow.