Crystal Perspective

They arrived at the hotel in due course. Ana was a bit surprised at the poshness of the hotel lobby they were standing in. Olivia had said this was the best hotel in the city... And from the few cop shows she'd watched, cops don't generally insert witnesses in hotel rooms, let alone 5-star hotel rooms.

Her mind was awash with red as she stood against the counter. She'd tried to get it out of her mind but all she could think of was that all that... used to be her friend. Snippets of conversation floated. "Standard police room?" "No, give her something better... horrible trauma... new in town..."

The room key was handed over and Ana was gently guided to the elevator. Forty nine buttons. She giggled. "Forty nine floors. Seems pretty big for such a small city. Philly's bigger than Nachton, or so Olivia told..." She choked back a sob. Raising her hand to her face, she pulled off her glasses and - wait, when had she put them back on? Oh, in the car ride - rubbed the bridge of her nose. Letting out a raspy sigh, she continued, "So Olivia told me. Just seems pretty big for a hotel, s'all."

"Well," the detective said, "We have a lot of conventions here during the year. We've got fashion, computer, real estate centers right here in the city so most times of the year at least three-quarters of the rooms are filled. People have been arriving all week for the Charity Gala. It's been quite interesting keeping track of all the celebrities."

At the mention of the Gala tears streamed again from Ana's eyes, silently but salty. Shiny silver doors opened onto the twenty-second floor. Turning to the woman, wiping the trails from her cheeks, she said, "Which room?"

"Room seventeen."

**

The questions hadn't been too difficult.

"Why are you in Nachton? How did you know Olivia? Did you see anyone when you arrived? How long have you known her? Did she mention a boyfriend? When did you last speak to her?" And on and on for more than an hour. Ana got the brief feeling that all her answers of "I don't know" weren't being particularly helpful or appreciated. The detective's partner finally arrived with her things and put her keys on the nightstand.

"We'll be by in the morning to see how you're doing, and to take you down to the station for some paperwork. Eight thirty sound okay? Give you time to get breakfast."

Ana nodded dumbly and stared from her perch on the side of the bed as the two left. Turning to the nightstand, she saw the clock reading barely four thirty.

Dropping her glasses next to her keys, she collapsed backwards onto the bed. "The ceiling's rather ugly," she thought. Attempting to not look at the boringly textured ecru ceiling, she flopped her head to the left... but the quintet of pillows offered no better solace. Over to the other side she turned. A squarish box on the wall caught her attention. Bright colors interspersed with darks... She reached for her glasses and, slipping them back on, moved to look at the painting she could now focus on.

The silver plate was engraved with "Fresh, Nyra McGurn". A bright sunrise over an orchard was depicted on the large canvas. Fruit dangled from branches; the air seemed misty. Ana couldn't tell if they were peaches or apples - she did so enjoy peaches - but it didn't really matter.

She sat staring at it for a few moments and realized her room was really stuffy. She moved to the window and opened it a crack, breathing deeply of the nose-chilling winter air.

She dragged the recliner from the corner near the window to the end of the bed and sat in it, staring at the painting. Imagining herself running beneath the weighted branches she started to nod off.

Strains of music overpowered the soft sounds of the afternoon traffic through her window.

((Closed by Staff))