The wheels of the practical silver car crunched along the gravel driveway as it approached The Brinkerhoff Royal. The once-luxurious hotel loomed above the Hudson River valley, the brick structure dulled by decades of neglect. Yet, it was still imposing, still regal. Overgrown hedges and dirty windows could not erase the fact that this location was once a private getaway for the wealthiest people of the Second Industrial Revolution.

Built in 1888, The Brinkerhoff Royal was one of Brinkerhoff Luxury Real Estate’s very first properties. Resting on a hilltop overlooking the river, the hotel was constructed in Cold Spring, New York to give the wealthy a nice getaway. A large building, it consisted of four floors, an attic, and a basement. It was a symbol of wealth and elegance, a representation of the financial dominance the leaders of the Industrial Revolution once held.

Autumn Lennox carefully parked her car and turned off the engine. Leaning back against the seat, Autumn let out a breath of relief. It had been a long, long drive from Boston, and she was exhausted. Fortunately, she had the entire weekend to go over the financial data her latest client had sent her.

Driving so far for a single in-person meeting normally wasn’t worth her time, but Autumn couldn’t pass up the chance to work with Megan Bauer. The daughter of Theodore Bauer, the fifth richest man in the world, Megan was the CEO of Sphinx Accounting and Bookkeeping Services. Megan was looking into acquiring a few remote bookkeeping companies. That was where Autumn came in.

Specializing in evaluating small companies for acquisitions and investments, Autumn was a contractor at Davidson Ventures. Megan had reached out to a member of the Davidson family, and he recommended Autumn. It made sense; Autumn was less than a year older than Megan, and both were high-powered women who commanded respect in a male-dominated field.

Autumn loved her job; she loved spreadsheets and numbers; she loved being able to reason logically. Numbers had no emotions, no irrational reactions she couldn’t understand. She could spend hours in front of a computer and not notice the time passing.

Stepping out of her car, Autumn raised her arms above her head as she stretched. Standing at above-average height, Autumn had a graceful and athletic build. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a plum-colored button-down blouse. Her wavy blonde hair fell in waves down to her lower back, and a pair of expensive sunglasses concealed her blue eyes.

The afternoon sunlight reflected off Autumn’s glasses as she surveyed the area. “The Brinkerhoff Royal” was written in gilded letters on a faded sign above the entrance. Cracked pathways, moss-covered statues, and overgrown garden helped add to the haunted ambiance. The hotel’s reputation was definitely well-deserved. Autumn also noticed an old gazebo and a poorly-maintained tennis court. The hotel had a wraparound veranda with a wonderful view of the Hudson River valley. Fog coming in off the river added to the atmosphere.

A gust of wind blew through the area, causing Autumn to shiver as a chill ran down her spine. She pressed her lips together before popping her trunk so she could remove her suitcase. Hotels had histories, especially hotels for the richest of the rich. The Brinkerhoff Royal, Autumn thought, clearly had more than its share of stories.

The rich history was ideal for Autumn, making the hotel an easy choice. It was Friday, and she was staying here for Labor Day weekend before her meeting with Megan on Tuesday. The drive into New York City would be a pain, but it was worth it to be able to stay in this wonderful place. Autumn couldn’t wait to sit out on the veranda with a nice mystery novel. A perfect break from all the hustle and bustle.

Sunlight glinted off the ballroom windows as Autumn smiled at the faded beauty of the hotel. It was amazing that the place still stood, even if it had fallen into disrepair over the years. Glancing upward, she briefly noticed a woman in old-fashioned attire who appeared to be watching her from a window. The woman was gone when Autumn looked back, and all she could really tell was that the woman had been wearing a high-collared dress. Probably a housekeeper, she figured.

Entering the hotel, Autumn lifted her sunglasses so she could take in the sight of the grand lobby. The Brinkerhoffs had clearly spared no expense when designing the lavish interiors. The floors were marble, there was an ornate central fireplace, and the faded velvet seating gave hints to the hotel’s former grandeur.

The old elevator brought Autumn up to the third floor, the doors squeaking slightly as they opened to reveal a long corridor. Sconces on the walls glowed weakly, some flickering while others were burnt out entirely. The carpet was faded, the burgundy wallpaper was peeling, and portraits of landscapes hung on the walls. It was like stepping into the past.

Room 304 wasn’t far from the elevator, so Autumn immediately approached, noticing the tarnished brass numbers. A small smile crossed her face as she inserted the old-fashioned key and unlocked the door. The hinges squeaked as she opened the door and stepped into a narrow hallway with a small closet to the left.

Faded floral wallpaper was peeling at the edges, with obvious water damage on one wall. A large four-poster bed dominated the center of the main area, its canopy long gone. Tall windows looked toward the driveway and river, with velvet drapes pulled to the side, allowing natural light to fill the room. The fireplace had been sealed long ago, and the marble top of the mantle was cracked. An antique writing desk was against one wall, with a cloudy mirror hanging over it.

The Brinkerhoff Royal had fallen into neglect over the years, but it did still have modern amenities. A large flat screen television was mounted on the wall over a small set of drawers. There was also a mini-refrigerator, a microwave, and a small coffee maker. A standard bucket for ice was resting next to the coffee maker.

Autumn placed her suitcase on the bed, causing the frame to release a faint groan. Another chill went down her spine as the groan echoed longer than it should, giving her the impression that the room itself was reacting to her presence. Surprisingly, Autumn thought she smelled perfume, a faint and fleeting scent of roses or lilacs. Something about the room unsettled her, but she assumed it was just the age of the place and the cleaning solution the staff used.

Heading to the bathroom, Autumn washed up before returning to further explore her accommodations. A softcover book on the desk caught her attention, and it turned out to be a book on the most haunted locations in New York. Considering the hotel’s history, it wasn’t surprising that the owners would leave something out like that for the guests. Autumn loved history and eagerly flipped to the bookmarked page that featured The Brinkerhoff Royal.

The book was quite extensive, so Autumn just skimmed a couple of random paragraphs on the history of the hotel. In 1907, the first tragedy occurred, with the death of a bride on her wedding night. A series of deaths over the years, including: a drowning, a disappearance, and several mysterious deaths all led to the decline of The Brinkerhoff Royal. It was sold off in 1989, with only its haunted reputation to keep its doors open.

It was still early, so Autumn decided she would rather explore the hotel than read. She returned to the main lobby, passing a few guests as she peeked into the bar and explored the dining room before checking out the natatorium. The indoor pools were located in a separate addition to the hotel, setting it apart from the older building with a basement. It was likely added after the hotel’s construction and featured blue-and-white mosaics. A couple of kids were swimming with their parents, so Autumn left them to it.

An audible gasp escaped her lips as she entered the massive ballroom, a lasting testament to the hotel’s noble origins. The polished floors and hanging chandeliers could have come straight from a movie, yet the grandeur was faded, claimed by age and neglect.

Most of the hotel had felt empty, with few people moving through the long halls. As a result, the faint, delicate melody wafting through the ballroom was a surprise. Glancing around for the source, Autumn eventually noticed a figure seated at the grand piano on the balcony above. Behind the figure was a camera propped on a tripod, which they were clearly using to record themselves.

The figure lifted his head and looked over, noticing Autumn. He gave her a slightly-awkward smile. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you. The acoustics in here were too good to resist.”

“Not at all, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here,” Autumn replied politely, a smirk crossing her face. “That piano is out of tune.”

“Yeah, it really is,” the man chuckled, standing and walking over to the railing. “I’m James. James Gray.”

James looked to be about her age, mid-twenties, and was probably a little over six-feet tall. He had a lean build with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, James ran his fingers through his hair as he smiled down at Autumn. He seemed completely at ease.

“Autumn Lennox, nice to meet you,” Autumn replied politely before gesturing at the tripod. “I think you’re still recording.”

“Eh, I’ll edit it later,” James shrugged. “I’ll only use about a minute of the recording. People are more interested in the investigation.”

“Uh, investigation?” Autumn frowned.

“Didn’t you know The Brinkerhoff Royal is supposed to be the most haunted place in New York?” James asked. “That’s the only reason anyone even stays here anymore.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” she replied. “I booked the room because of the history.”

“Industrial Revolution money, mysterious deaths and disappearances, ghostly sightings; this place has the whole package,” James laughed. “So, it’s being featured on my channel, Gray’s Hauntings and Mysteries. I travel around the country exploring historic sites and alleged hauntings.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Autumn’s lips. Her logical and practical mind firmly believed that all supposed haunted locations were hoaxes. Although, she knew that a large portion of the population believed in ghosts. It was still surprising someone could make a living ghost-hunting.

Autumn did have to admit that traveling the country to see historic locations sounded incredible. As great as her job was, Autumn’s heart yearned for adventure. She hiked and practiced yoga to stay in shape, but that was in local parks or places barely outside the city. Her love of historical biographies and mystery novels caused her to long for an escape from the concrete jungles. James seemed to have a fun job, other than the fact that he probably had to stage fake ghost sightings.

“Traveling the country sounds fun,” Autumn said. “How’d you get started doing that?”

“I was an anthropology major at North Carolina State,” he quickly explained. “For a project my junior year, I did a full video project on a local historical site and posted it. I was mainly filming the area for its historical significance, but the legends of a haunting drew people in. My channel got crazy popular, so I dropped out to focus on it.”

“You must really love your job,” Autumn commented.

“It has its moments,” James sighed, looking slightly regretful.

“Well, ah, I’ll leave you to your investigation,” she responded. “It was nice meeting you. Please tell me if you find proof of the paranormal.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” he laughed as Autumn made her exit.

Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, Autumn found the Rose Gallery, a hallway lined with portraits of notable guests. She also found a music salon and the balcony where James was still filming and playing piano. The rest of the floor was just various guest rooms.

The third floor held the library, and Autumn took a look through the old books before heading up to the exclusive fourth floor. There were private dining rooms, meeting salons, and penthouse suites for the wealthiest guests. A lot of it was off-limits to guests and Autumn couldn’t find stairs to the attic.

Returning to her car, Autumn took a drive to explore what little civilization the small town had to offer. She browsed through a few of the little shops before settling on a place for dinner. It was average diner food, but she was able to eat outside at a picnic table and enjoy the sun.

Back at the hotel, Autumn relaxed in a comfortable chair on the veranda. She read several chapters of her mystery novel while enjoying the scenery. After watching the sun set, she put her book back in her purse and headed back to the third floor. To her surprise, she saw a familiar face unlocking the door next to hers.

“Fancy meeting you again,” Autumn spoke up as she approached her door.

“Oh, hi,” James smiled. “I guess we’re neighbors.”

“Looks that way,” she nodded. “Any luck on the ghost front?”

“Nah, not yet,” he laughed. “I’m investigating the pool tonight.”

“And yet you’re two floors above it,” Autumn observed.

“It’s a separate addition, it’s more to the side of us,” James teased.

“You know what I meant,” she smirked.

“I set up an EMF meter and a camera to record video and audio,” James explained. “A nine-year-old drowned in the pool back in fifty-seven, so we’ll see.”

“That’s terrible!” Autumn gasped. “I didn’t know about that one.”

“I know,” he agreed. “There have been a lot of tragedies here. The drowning, there was a bad fire, oh, and they used this place as a quarantine during the 1918 influenza outbreak.”

“Shit, how many people have died here?” she asked nervously.

“Quite a few,” James sighed, heading into room 305. “Anyway, sleep well!”

“Goodnight,” Autumn snorted at the way he said it as she unlocked her door.

Another chill ran down her spine as she entered room 304. Before shutting the door, Autumn thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but there was nothing when she looked. Closing the door with a frown, Autumn decided to do some preparing for the meeting on Tuesday.

When she was ready for bed, she went through her nighttime routine and closed the curtains to her room. She was wearing a long t-shirt and a pair of panties as she slipped into bed. Reaching up, she was going to turn off the bedside lamp, but her hand froze as she reached it. The place was creepy, even if ghosts were superstitious nonsense. She left the one lamp on to keep some illumination in the room. Just to ease her overactive imagination.