The hotel wasn’t a far walk, though I suspected most places within downtown Shady Oaks were in walking distance of one another. Next to me, George and Riley were looking at Riley’s camera, and George was asking questions about why Riley still used film instead of digital.

George seemed genuinely interested in what Riley had to say, but I also knew that my friend would always end up on the side of new technology.

I was only half listening to their conversation. Instead I was thinking about what I’d ask Emily. Maybe her boyfriend had some connection to the museum like Grace did. I wondered if he knew Susan.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I barely realized when we reached our hotel. Like most of the buildings here, it was made of red brick. It was a thin building, and pretty tall, especially compared to most everything else there. Hanging out front was a small square sign that read ELDER ROOT INN in decorative gold cursive.

Inside, the lobby was covered in a deep-red carpet. There were mirrors and a few unusual sculptures lining the walls, and the front desk was just off to the right, next to a grouping of overstuffed chairs. It didn’t look like we were going to have time to linger, though, since Riley rushed toward the staircase near the back of the hotel. George and I followed as Riley dashed upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Hey, wait up!” called George. Riley was much taller than either of us and was having an easier time making it up the steep stairs quickly.

“Emily said she was in room 212,” Riley called back, barely slowing down for us. “She said I could just stop by whenever.”

We quickly reached the long, narrow hallway on the second floor. It was lined with carpet that matched the lobby, and the entire building seemed to be a little crooked, as if it were slanting to the right.

Riley scanned the room numbers, trying to find Emily’s room. George turned toward me.

“Hey,” she said in a low voice. “I’m a little worried Emily won’t really want to talk to us.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Her boyfriend is missing,” George said. “Would you want to talk about that with an amateur detective? She might be upset and just want to be left alone.”

I considered this for a moment. George was probably right, but I felt confident I could make Emily comfortable enough to answer a few questions. “We’ll just be really polite,” I said.

George laughed. “That has worked in the past.”

Just then Riley stopped in front of a door a little ways down from where George and I were standing.

“Hey, guys!” Riley called while waving us over. “This is 212.”

George and I jogged over to where Riley was standing and waited as she knocked on the door. For a moment, it didn’t sound like there was anyone inside. But then we heard the sound of someone approaching the door, and watched as Emily quickly opened it all the way.