Forenzi led them through the doors, and when Tom crossed the threshold he heard a strange humming sound. It disappeared immediately, and before he could think about it Tom was facing Butler House’s great room.

The website pictures didn’t do it justice. The space was massive, a two story cavernous area that was big enough to comfortably seat King Kong. The light came from three gigantic deer antler chandeliers, hanging from the rafters on thick chains. Each contained at least a hundred antlers, and they were asymmetrical and seemed thrown together. Like big heaps of bones.

The centerpiece of the great room, a ceiling high stone fireplace, easily utilized several tons of granite. Impressive as it was, it wasn’t lit, and Tom felt a chill when he stared at it.

Various chairs and tables were scattered around the room, some obviously new, others outdated and in need of repair. Though the chandeliers were big, they weren’t enough to adequately light the space. Plus they threw strange shadows across the walls and floor.

Seated near each other were two men and a woman. Forenzi led them across a frayed, drab Persian rug and stood in the middle of everyone.

“Might I introduce our new arrivals. Chicago cop Tom Mankowski, who has worked several serial killer cases, but his claim to fame has to be the part he played in the tragedy at the late Senator Philip Stang’s mansion.”

Tom remained calm, even though those words hit like a blow. He had no idea how Forenzi found out about that. But he intended to ask him as soon as they were alone. That, and questions about Roy. But for the time being, he needed to just watch and listen.

“Sara Randhurst survived a terrifying ordeal on Rock Island in Michigan, including several encounters with feral cannibals, and a well-known serial killer named Lester Paks. A sadist who filed his teeth down to points and chewed his victims to death.”

Tom glanced at Sara, and even in the dim light he could see her face had gone white.

“And Dr. Frank Belgium, a molecular biologist who actually encountered Satan himself.”

Sara’s head jerked in his direction. “Frank? Really?”

“I really can’t talk about that that that, Dr. Forenzi. It’s highly classified. And how did you happen to hear about…”

“Dr. Belgium, meet Aabir Gartzke, psychic medium, sensitive, and clairvoyant extraordinaire.”

Aabir stood and gave a theatrical bow. She was a tall woman with dark, Slavic features, her long black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. Her dozens of silver and gold bracelets jangled as she moved, and the loose blouse she wore wouldn’t have been out of place on an eighteenth century gypsy.

“I have met you all already, in my dreams and visions. Detective Mankowski, how is Joan’s latest movie coming along?”

Tom played coy. “If you’re clairvoyant, shouldn’t you already know that?”

Aabir smiled. “Indeed. The writer acquiesced, changed the scene as instructed. Right now, your girlfriend is in the star’s trailer, discussing wardrobe. And Sara, no need to worry, my dear. Jack will be returned to you soon.”

“It doesn’t take a psychic to know that,” Sara said.

“Of course not. I could have easily gotten that through the court records. But you will be pleased to know that Jack is walking now. He’s doing well with his foster family, but he still has memories of you and misses how you used to sing to him.”

“I… I need to use the bathroom,” Sara’s voice cracked, and she began to walk off.

“Down that hallway,” Forenzi pointed, “third door on the right.”

“Sara?” Belgium began to go after her. But she stopped him by saying, “I’m fine, Frank, I just need a minute.”

“Dr. Belgium,” Aabir continued, “have your friends Sun and Andy told you yet they’re pregnant?”

He looked at his shoes. “No, they haven’t.”

“If it’s a boy, his middle name will be Frank. And it will be a boy.”

“Impressive, Ms. Gartzke,” Forenzi said. “Aabir’s skills have helped police find four missing children, and two murderers. But, like each of you, she is here at Butler House to face one of her greatest fears.”

“There are many kinds of spirits,” Aabir said. “Ghosts are the residual energy of human beings after they have died. Poltergeists are attached to particular locations. They reenact the same scene, again and again. Usually scenes of violence or death. But the last type of spirit is the dangerous one. The kind that has no earthly counterpart.”

“Demons,” Dr. Forenzi said, nodding.

“Demons are malevolent entities that feed on the energy of the living. I have encountered demons in the past. They are extremely dangerous. In some cases, they can even kill. Demons frighten me deeply.”

“You don’t seem frightened right now,” Tom stated.

Aabir put her hands on her hips and stuck out her chin. “I performed a cleansing ritual on this room, so they can’t enter. But there are many demons in this house. I can feel them, like eyes on the back of my neck.”

Tom recalled how he was sure someone had been watching him while he was sitting at Roy’s desk, but no one had been there.

“Have you ever encountered a demon, Mr. Pang?”

“No, I haven’t,” said the Asian man sitting next to Aabir. He had broad shoulders and a compact frame, and a pencil mustache on his upper lip. “That’s because demons, like ghosts and poltergeists, don’t exist.”

“Woo-jin Pang runs a company that specializes in debunking paranormal activity.”

“Science has been unable to prove the existence of a spirit world.”

“Science also hasn’t been able to prove it doesn’t exist,” Aabir countered.

“It isn’t up to science to disprove a wild claim, bro. It is up to the person making the wild claim to show scientific evidence of it. If I say I have a leprechaun in my backpack, the burden of proof is on me.”

“And you’ve never encountered anything you can’t explain?”

“Of course I have. But not being able to explain a phenomenon doesn’t mean it should be automatically attributed to the spirit world. I was using my EMF meter at a client’s home two weeks ago—”

“Excuse me,” Tom said. “That’s the second time I’ve heard those initials. What’s an EMF meter?”

The ghost hunter rolled his eyes. “It tests for electromagnetic fields. Supposedly EMFs are disrupted by supernatural activity. It’s one of many tools used to measure conditions we can’t see, bro. So I was using the meter, and it kept spiking. We ruled out appliances, cell phones, fuse boxes, the air conditioning. We even killed the main power at the breaker. It still kept spiking.”

“And you’re saying that wasn’t a spirit?” Aabir asked.

“It wasn’t a spirit. There was a storm ten miles away. My equipment is so sensitive it was picking up lightning strikes.”

“Mr. Pang claims he’s never been frightened while doing paranormal research,” Forenzi said, smiling politely. “We’ll see if Butler House changes his mind.”

Pang crossed his arms over his chest. “If ghosts do exist and they’re here, I’ll find them.”

“And last,” Forenzi said, “but certainly not least, is perhaps the only person in the world more skeptical than Mr. Pang, bestselling author Cornelius Wellington.”

Cornelius Wellington was in his fifties, wearing a sweater vest, glasses, and a graying Van Dyke beard.

“Pleased to meet you all,” Wellington boomed. He pronounced all as awl, and sounded a lot like John Lennon. “I’m very much looking forward to the proceedings, Dr. Forenzi. I’m sure you have quite the little show concocted for us.”

Forenzi chuckled. “Mr. Wellington is known for his books that debunk the supernatural. Due to his certainty that spirits do not exist, he’s convinced I have turned Butler House into something akin to the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. Animatronic specters and people in masks jumping out to yell ‘Boo!’”

“I certainly hope so, Doctor. That will be exceedingly more exciting than sitting around waiting for ghosts to make contact.”