Murder-You-Vote

Chapter Five

Emma put her back against her room's door, panting.

She was not trapped. This was a singles week, damnit. She was supposed to flirt with attractive guys. Melody was gone. It was time to move on. Zach was nice, and he clearly had a sense of humor.

Of course, he probably thought she was an idiot now. Especially since she was an idiot. Who was resolutely not going to cry with embarrassment.

The tears came anyway. Emma swiped right-handed at them and firmly turned to unpacking and exploring the room. It was nice, in a homey, rustic cabin sort of way. The furniture was mostly wood, the floor covered with thick rag rugs, and heavy flower-patterned curtains matched the bedspread. She went to open these and stopped to gaze at the lovely view of snow-covered mountains and dark evergreens through a veil of softly falling snow. The old-fashioned inward-swinging mullioned windows bore an accumulation of soft whiteness.

"Oh--" she breathed. This was nice.

Indistinct voices drifted in from the sitting room. Maybe it was Zach. She really ought to go apologize to him for her bizarre behavior. She shuffled over to the door, trying to rehearse in her head something to say that didn't sound like "I'm a colossal idiot" but when she opened the door, the sitting room was dark and empty.

She sighed. Too slow.

As she was closing the door, a loud bang from behind her made her jump. A blast of cold air laced with snow and something else made her shiver and hurry to close the window again. She frowned as she did so. She must have bumped the latch while wrestling with the door. No matter how hard she worked to control for it, she was still just a little bit clumsy sometimes.

Still. It was odd. She glanced out the window at the darkening landscape. None of the trees were moving, and though it was snowing harder now, the flakes still seemed to be drifting straight down. A light on a pole illuminated lumps of snow to the right, marking the edge of the parking lot she could just see from her window. Emma nibbled her lip for a minute, trying to pin down the source of her uneasiness, but the feeling passed and she returned to unpacking. Pulling out an assortment of old sweaters, some clearly borrowed, she went to the closet to hang them. Yanking the string for the light produced a hiss and a spark, then nothing. Subsequent tugs elicited no response. She sighed and hung up her sweaters in the dark. Pulling on her favorite World's Greatest Grandpa one over her current sweater to combat the chill, she trudged to the phone on the little desk. She pressed the button labeled "front desk" but instead of ringing, she heard only heavy breathing.

Emma hung up the phone, just as the window blew in again, violently swirling snow around her waist and nearly cracking her on the head. If this damn window wouldn't stay closed, she'd have to request a new room.

The snow was definitely coming down harder, and even what she supposed must be called flurries. The light-pole was a dim blur now. Something bright red at the base glowed slightly in the gloom.

Emma shivered violently and slammed the window shut.