1. The Hotel Coronado
Now this is creepy, Rachel thought to herself as she climbed from the driver's seat of her Mercedes saloon and took in the sight before her. The Hotel Coronado stood at the end of a long, winding gravel driveway far away from the main road and now loomed ominously ahead of her.
She could hear the waves lapping gently against the cliff the hotel was perched on. Whilst the building itself still retained some of its rustic allure, closer inspection was enough to tell Rachel about its current state of dis-repair. Even in the fading light she could see the chipped paint on the facade, a least two cracked windows and a low roof with several slates missing.
"I can see why it went for so much money," she said over her shoulder as Miles joined her. Her son hadn't been keen on accompanying her and it was only a last minute change of heart that meant she wasn't here alone. "Get it spruced up and people will flock to it. Great location and it has its own special kind of ambience." Amongst other things, she reminded herself. Rachel looked the building over once more. A few lights on the ground floor shone dimly but the upper floors of the hotel stood in complete darkness.
As with any old building, certain stories had stuck to the hotel since before Rachel was born. Thinking it would make an ideal setting for a few chapters in her next book, she had wrote to the local conservation society in the hopes of arranging a tour. To her surprise, a month later an invitation came in the mail to a ghost hunt at the hotel.
It had been a mild night and she was dressed casually, a navy sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans didn't stop the sudden chill in the sea breeze. A two tone Rolex clasped tightly to her left wrist and a pair of brown boots completed the look of Hopefield's most well known journalist and author.
"Well," Rachel said to her son. "Shall we?"