The Lady in Red. A perfect marketing hook.
I click another link.
This one leads to a blog post with a blurry photo someone swears shows a red mist by the piano in the Belicourt’s Cottonwood Court.
I squint at it.
Honestly, it looks like someone might have had a smudge on their camera lens.
Still, the comments are filled with people arguing about whether it’s real or fake.
I open another tab.
Another article. A version of the same story, this one with a sighting of The Lady leaning over the fifth-floor balcony.
Elegant woman.
Red gown.
And another of her being seen wandering the halls late at night. Sometimes laughing. Sometimes crying. Always disappearing before anyone can get close to her.
But no one seems to know who she actually was. Which is weird. Hotels like this keep records of everything. Guests. Events. Staff.
So, if a woman died here or disappeared or suffered some tragic heartbreak, whether she was a guest or a staff member, you’d think there would be documentation somewhere.
“Okay, Lady in Red,” I murmur to myself, “who are you?”
I type another search.
Belicourt Hotel Lady in Red identity.
Several familiar articles pop up again. But then something different catches my eye. A book. Self-published. The title appears in bold letters across the Amazon listing.
What Happened at the Belicourt Hotel?By Sidney Bolin.
I click it immediately.
The product page loads. A grainy photograph of the Belicourt fills the cover—its towering facade lit by moonlight. In one of the upper windows, there’s a faint red glow that looks almost like the silhouette of a woman.
Cheesy.
But effective.
I scroll down to the description.
Local legend has it that the historical Belicourt Resort Hotel in Wildhaven, Wyoming, is haunted by the spirit of the elegant Lady in Red.
But why?
Who was she, and what happened to cause her spirit to be trapped forever within its opulent walls?
Take a journey with me through the corridors of the famous hotel and explore eyewitness accounts from those lucky enough to encounter the playful yet sad apparition.
My eyebrows lift.
“Okay … that’s actually pretty good.”
I scroll further down to the reviews. Hundreds of them. The average rating is surprisingly high.
