"Wow."

"That's all you can say?"

"…Yes."

Sabrina sighed, adjusting the strap of her satchel. "Well, it is impressive, certainly." Her gaze shifted from the yellowed newspaper in her hand to the massive building in front of her. Eerily impressive…

The Hollywood Tower Hotel was a monolith of faded rose-shaded stucco and brick. While not wholly unpleasing to the eye, it had the imposing nature of a mountain, looming above a lush emerald-green garden. In fact, its solid appearance and bright color might almost have given Sabrina a comforting feeling; a sense of security.

That is, of course, had not a deep gray stain blemished the front like a spreading plague. The stain on the brick had roughly the effect of a vivid burn mark on a pleasant face.

"Those are the scorch marks from the lightning," Shinji murmured. "Right on the elevator shaft."

Sabrina wasn't paying attention; her focus was directed towards the massive gates barring their entrance. Marked with the "HTH" logo, they appeared to be old, but not rusted. And though a laminated placard hung on one side warning trespassers away, there was no chain fastening the gates together.

"It looks like we're expected," Sabrina quipped, as she gestured to the gates. "They're unlocked. I guess our Mr. Todd got here ahead of us." Shrugging, she swung open one of the gates.

Pausing for a moment, she looked over her shoulder. Shinji was standing on the other side, a faint frown creasing his brow as he stared at the hotel with apprehension.

"Are . . . you okay?" Sabrina asked hesitantly, stepping towards him.

Shinji bit his lip lightly, studying the jutting, bulky façade of the hotel. "I still…have a bad feeling about this," he said lowly. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, switching his gaze to her. "It…the aura of this place…"

Sabrina swallowed nervously. She hadn't had reason to bring up her sixth sense before, and now she wondered if it was a trait common to more witches than she thought. The aura of the Hotel was strange—quite dissimilar to Gracey Manor. The Gothic mansion had been overtly sinister, the aura (courtesy of the psychotic warlock inhabiting it) smelling of cold, rank death.

Here? It was an elusive feeling that slipped across her senses—a feeling that something was wrong, but what exactly it was, she couldn't say. And for Shinji to sense it…what were his strengths, again? She'd never asked. He could very well be psychically gifted, like her.

"Well, I suppose we should go in," Shinji shrugged, slipping through the gate. He paused, beckoning to Sabrina. "Are you coming?" He grinned, at the reversal of the situation.

Sabrina nodded and followed. They stepped through the elegant wrought-iron gate and into a verdant, overgrown garden. The pathway was walled, and presumably wound its way up to the Hotel proper. Enormous live oaks and palm trees blended together, creating a canopy of green that filtered the rays of the midday sun.

Broad-leaved elephant ear and bird of paradise plants stretched towards whatever light they could reach. Dainty ferns curled over sunken pottery, and common, spiky grass attempted to assert itself everywhere.

"It must have been so beautiful, once," Sabrina murmured, running her fingers lightly along the low wall. "But it's all wild, now. What a pity."

"Wouldn't Mr. Todd make sure the garden was cared for?" Shinji asked, pausing to examine a signpost. The grounds apparently boasted a bowling green (Sabrina raised an eyebrow over that one), a 'grand terrace', and a natatorium, which she remembered was a fancy, Latin-based word for swimming pool. Huh. Guess taking a year of Latin paid off, huh?

"You would think," Sabrina agreed. "I'm guessing we want to head for the terrace. The path looks like it heads to the hotel."

The two walked on in silence for some time. The air here was so still, and hung heavy over her. It seemed—yes, it really did seem—as if the Hotel itself were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Sabrina unconsciously clenched her fists as she mulled over possibilities of what could be waiting inside the building. Well, she had experience with vengeful spirits and demons, so she would be fine. But what about Shinji? Sabrina wondered again.

Well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there. And besides, saving a guy in distress might be fun…

The terrace loomed closer; a massive stone porch held up by massive pillars, with terracotta floor tiles. "I don't see anyone," Sabrina noted, worried.

"Relax," Shinji smiled. "Maybe the caretaker is inside, or on the lawn. Don't worry." He squeezed her shoulder, giving her a warm smile. Sabrina dropped her hands, smiling back.

The terrace's main area consisted of several empty stone flower beds flanked by heavy stone columns. Sabrina gasped in appreciation at the jewel-bright hibiscus blooms winding up and down the columns, and across the trellis set in the roof.

"Here," Shinji said suddenly, reaching upwards to pluck a scarlet bloom. He tucked it behind her ear, stepping back to admire the effect. The red hibiscus clashed with her pale pink tank top and purple skirt, but still suited her, in an odd way.

Sabrina gave him a soft smile. "How does it look?" she asked shyly.

"Very pretty."

They looked at each other for a moment, feeling their faces start to grow warm. I'm really starting to like her, Shinji thought. She's more than just a pretty face; she's got a great sense of humor and she's so easy to talk to. I can't believe how much I'm enjoying every minute I spend with her...

He's sweet, Sabrina decided. And he's always looking out for me. I'm really glad that Drell made us partners. I wonder...I wonder if anything else can come from this? I know that I'm hoping it will...heh. Well, I guess we have to save romantic overtures for later. We have to finish this first...stupid mission...Sabrina opened her mouth, about to suggest that they move on…

"Excuse me?"

Sabrina shrieked, and leaped back a foot, arm coming up in preparation to fling a blast of magical energy. Shinji had done an about-face, his hands flying to his belt, as if reaching for something.

The speaker stood in front of them, his hands outstretched reassuringly. He was of medium height, and rather heavy, with a bit of a paunch. He seemed slightly out of place in a loud Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals.

"Wait, wait," he said, waving his arms in a 'don't hit me' gesture, "whoa there. Sorry to scare you."

"That's okay," Sabrina said, nearly laughing in relief. She dropped her hands, eying the man closer. He appeared to be in his forties, with a bald patch forming in the middle of his wispy, frizzy brown hair, and sporting a short beard. His round, fleshy face was good-humored, with laugh lines beginning to form around his twinkling, dark eyes.

"Are you Christopher Q. Todd?" Shinji asked slowly, sizing him up.

"Call me Chris," he beamed, extending his hand. Shinji blinked for a moment, and Sabrina stepped forward to shake Chris' hand. Seeming to not notice Shinji's hesitation, Chris continued. "You need anything, let me know, and I'll get it for you."

"Thanks," Sabrina told him. "Oh, I'm Sabrina Spellman, and my partner here is…"

"Shinji Yamagi," the Japanese warlock cut in. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Same here," Chris replied.

Well, thanks for meeting us here," Sabrina told him. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"No problemo, chief," the older man waved it off. Sabrina paused a second, blinking at the nickname. "October's my busy season; come Halloween, everybody wants to hear about Sally Shine. It, uh…helps the cash flow." He paused meaningfully.

Salem, just what did you tell him?

Thankfully, Shinji reached for his wallet, where Drell had given them money for expenses. "So, what do you do, Chris?" he asked, stumbling over the name slightly. "Since your family built this place, are you the…eh…guardian?"

Sabrina looked at him oddly. Shinji shrugged. "I don't know the word in English."

"I'm the caretaker," Chris explained. "It's a family thing, I guess: Great-grand-daddy built this place; Grandpa was a bellhop; and I look after it all. I'm a legacy…with expenses," he added, taking the folded bill from Shinji's hand. He started off down the terrace's hallway, beckoning them to follow him.

"Mostly, I'm a car mechanic," Chris continued as they walked down the veranda. They passed row after row of stone benches and pottery, all beginning to be overgrown with weeds and wild hibiscus. "Being caretaker isn't that big of a deal; I just pay taxes and hire maintenance workers to keep the place from falling down."

The soft, ghostly sound of laughter echoed throughout the grounds. Sabrina stiffened, stopping. It sounded too much—too, too much—like young Emily's happy laughter drifting through the halls of Gracey Manor.

"Sabrina." Shinji said quietly, catching her by the hand. "Are you okay?"

Dazed, she stared at him for a moment. Just as suddenly she'd stopped, she shook herself awake. "I'm fine," she laughed nervously. "Just…listening to the wind in the trees."

He touched her cheek, looking at her with concern. "Are you sure?" he repeated, looking her in the eye.

"Yes," Sabrina insisted. "Thanks for worrying, though," she added in a softer tone than before. Shinji didn't look as if he quite believed her, but smiled, and began walking again. Sabrina followed, mentally berating herself for the momentary loss of control.

He was really concerned about me…he's so kind.

Not seeming to have noticed—or cared about, perhaps—Sabrina's momentary odd behavior, Chris continued talking. "Anyway, there's really not much to do anyway, ya know. Great-Granddad was so freaked out about what happened to Grandpa Dewey, that he had the whole place shut down. It's even mentioned in his will. Nobody can do anything with the place until somebody figures out what happened to Grandpa Dewey."

"So…what did happen?" Sabrina asked cautiously.

Chris shrugged lazily. "No clue, chief. But I'm the last living relative; so if the mystery gets solved, I inherit the works. Cha-ching!" he snapped his fingers sharply.

They'd stopped at the hotel's entrance, in front of a set of double doors, decorated with tarnished brass flourishes. The first-floor windows were in good condition, but so coated with dust that Sabrina could barely see inside. And everything inside the Hotel's gonna be in the same condition, huh? Terrific.

"And everything has been closed up for sixty years," Shinji said in an apprehensive tone, sounding about as thrilled as Sabrina felt.

"Yup. Spooky, huh?" Chris added, raising an eyebrow. He fiddled around in his pocket, finally withdrawing a set of keys on a dirty yellow lanyard. He selected one, sticking it into the door, and forcefully turning it. The lock opened with an audible click, and Chris pushed the doors open.

The doors slowly groaned as they swung partially open, shedding a few rays of bright California sunshine into the dark, dusty interior. Dust particles wafted out the doorway, causing Sabrina to sneeze a few times.

"Well, there ya go," Chris beckoned towards the interior. "I'll be out front working if you need me."

"You're not coming in with us?" Shinji asked, lifting one thin blue eyebrow.

"No way, man. You're the ones here to write a story, not me. This place is haunted."

Sighing, Sabrina stepped forward into the lobby, dust faintly wafting through the air as she did so. She was greeted by cool, stale air that smelled very faintly like mothballs. There were no lights on anywhere inside the building; the faint light that did filter in came through the dusty windows. Footsteps behind her announced that Shinji had stepped inside, accompanied by a slow creaking of shutting doors.

The Japanese warlock gave a low whistle. "Sugoi…" he murmured in a hushed, nearly reverent tone.

The lobby of the hotel was crafted out of tan-colored rock, with a high, vaulted ceiling, and pillars supporting wide arches. The floor was composed of smooth, polished octagonal terra cotta tiles; dust had settled liberally in the cracks between them, giving the floor a web-like appearance.

Directly across from the entrance sat a grand, ornately carved fireplace. Sabrina's eyes roved from the tapestry hanging above it (emblazoned with the hotel's monogram, of course) to the large circular stone planter set in the middle of the lobby floor. It might have been a tasteful decoration at one point, but it was filled with dried, long-dead flowers, and topped with an eerily alive-looking stuffed owl.

Everywhere, Sabrina could see tasteful, rich furnishings: oriental carpets, table lamps inset with mosaic tiles, stained-glass lampshades, rosewood and mahogany end tables. Love and attention had been lavished on this place, resulting in a rich and beautiful atmosphere.

And the whole thing had been ruined by sixty years' worth of dust and decay.

And a supernatural murder mystery doesn't help much, either.

Sabrina absentmindedly reached for her ponytail, and began chewing on the end. "Where do we even start?" she murmured.

Shinji frowned, scanning the room for a likely prospect. His eyes landed on the dusty, cobweb covered reception desk. "There," he decided, nodding towards it. "I'll look around there."

"And I'll…look around for anything that might pertain to the victims," Sabrina decided. "I don't want to get in your way." Reaching into her black shoulder bag, Sabrina withdrew the manila case file, and two flashlights. She handed one to Shinji. "Remember; if we get separated…"

"Call your phone." Shinji flicked his flashlight on and nodded. "I'll be careful."

Sighing, Sabrina turned to face the fireplace, opening the case file. On top of the other papers was a floor plan of the hotel. "Let's see what we've got," she mumbled. "The lobby level has a library, a lounge, and a billiards room…" She shuddered, recollecting the last billiards room she'd been in.

Let's hope that I don't get miniaturized this time. It'd kind of be embarrassing to explain to Shinji…

She snuck a peek over her shoulder. Shinji was rapidly checking the contents of the mail slots behind the desk. He looked rather bored, but stayed focused on his work.

Maybe I'll stay in the lobby for now…

Shrugging, Sabrina began to slowly meander around the lobby, examining anything in her path. She looked under furniture, lifted up cushions, poked around a dusty tea tray, and pondered a pile of luggage. There has to be something here…shouldn't there?

Shinji pursed his lips as he examined the guest register in front of him. He'd scanned through the entries for that day, hoping to find something of interest. Needless to say, he had no idea what he was doing, so he'd decided to quickly but methodically look through everything he could. This is odd, he thought. I found three of the guests, but not the fourth of them. Claire Poulet isn't listed anywhere on here…

He traced his name down the list again. Allen Barrett…Michael Philip Miter…John Rolfe Eggbert IV…Carolyn Crosset…V. Kay Kitterman…Nothing. Not even someone with the initials "C.P." And yet she was positively identified as being one of the victims. So, why wasn't she listed?

He leaned against the counter, head in his hands. This is causing more questions than answers.

Sighing, Sabrina half-heartedly examined a dust-coated end table, noting the half-smoked cigar, empty wineglass, and filthy ashtray. She traced the rim of the wineglass absent-mindedly, noting the faint cobwebs clinging to the glass. While looking around was fun, she hadn't discovered anything productive.

It's odd, though, Sabrina mused. The lobby looks like everyone's just left it temporarily—well, except for the layer of dust. It must have been abandoned quickly.

She wandered toward the fireplace, briefly eying a set of alligator suitcases. The detective plopped down onto a sofa, belatedly remembering the thick layer of dust covering it. Said dust wafted upward, tickling her nose. She sneezed a few times, batting at it with her hands, but made no movements to get up. Okay, Sabrina, think. If the lobby was abandoned—most likely right after the disappearance was discovered—then that means that there has to be something lying around here belonging to one of the victims…and possibly whoever caused the accident. Well, assuming that a person did, in fact, cause the accident. …this is getting very complicated.

She groaned, putting her head into her hands. Her fledgling sixth sense had taken a leave of absence in the short time since the Gracey Manor case was closed. While she probably could have tried to trace whatever residual aura was left in the building, right now she was helpless.

Might as well say it. Useless.

"How are you doing?" a voice asked quietly.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. "Badly," she answered Shinji without looking up. "This is pointless, Shinji. We've spent almost an hour searching this room, and we've ended up with nothing. There are no clues. No leads. Nothing. I…I just give up."

Shinji was silent.

"Well, I don't," he said quietly.

Sabrina looked up at him. The strength in his voice was unusual; it seemed to have come from a different person. But it was still Shinji standing there, looking at her, dark eyes solemn and determined.

"I've started this, and I intend to finish it. Besides, I believe there may be some small clue out there—something that can help us. I don't believe it's as hopeless as you say."

She sat there still, watching.

"I am not giving up hope," he continued. "I'm going to keep searching until I solve this case. What will you do?"

Sabrina sat on the dusty couch, thinking. She remembered a feisty girl determinedly exploring a haunted mansion. It was dark, and dangerous, with monsters and spirits attempting to slaughter her at every turn. She had been thrust into an extraordinary situation with a slim chance of succeeding in her mission. And that girl had persevered. She had determinedly pursued her goal and won. She had not given up.

Look at me. How could I have lost my faith so easily? My psychic powers may be gone for now. There may be no easy way to discover what really happened here. But at least, I can do my best with what I have.

Sabrina raised her chin obstinately. "I'm not giving up hope, either."

Shinji's face broke into a broad smile. "Good."

"Ahhhhhh!" Shinji leaned back in the booth, stretching both arms over his head. "What a day!"

"Tell me about it," Sabrina sighed, taking another sip of her soda. Shortly after Shinji had discouraged her from giving up, the two had continued to search the first floor. Splitting up to cover more ground, they had checked the billiards room, the lounge, and a small, dusty, book-crammed library full of knickknacks. Privately, Sabrina thought it resembled the library shown in the video Drell had given her.

They had found nothing, but Shinji optimistically pointed out that tomorrow, they could search through the guests' luggage and rooms for clues. Therefore, they had decided to adjourn for the day, and get dinner at Rosie's. While they waited for the waitress to bring their food, Sabrina had spread the blueprints over her side of the table, studying the layout of the hotel, and lightly marking off which rooms had been checked.

Pencil hovering over the paper, she frowned. "Shinji…"

"Yes?" he looked up from his drink.

"We missed something."

Frowning, Shinji leaned over the table to see where she was gesturing. "What do you mean?"

"I can't believe I didn't look through all the floor plans beforehand… Well, as it turns out, there's a sublevel we missed. It seems that there's a pretty large basement, boiler room, storage rooms, and so on."

Shinji groaned. "Well, we'll have to look at it tomorrow."

"It'll be interesting," Sabrina replied grimly, putting the papers away.

Chris Todd is given the nickname "Q" (short for quartermaster) in the movie.

"Sugoi" roughly means "Wow!" or "Amazing!" Shinji sometimes lapses into Japanese when startled or shocked.

If you get to look at the guest registry at the Tower of Terror, they have all kinds of fake names. I just picked some of the choice examples of wackiness.

Next chapter: It's another day, and the Spirit Detectives have another chance to further investigate the hotel. Shinji makes a strange discovery in the basement, while Sabrina finds that not everything is all right on the upper floors…