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I smiled while I fiddled with the recorder. “Oh yeah, that’s right. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, thank God. But Chattanooga residential temperament is neither here nor there. If this turns out well enough, I can always take a stab at going to the network. I’ll just label it a human interest piece and see who bites. ”

“Or ‘post-human interest,’ as the case may be. ” The recorder he’d handed me was an expensive model with plastic wrap still clinging to it. I picked off the leftover packaging and flipped it on. “Just so you know, this might not get you anywhere. It might not turn up anything at all. Even if the room is haunted, ghosts don’t always feel very talkative. ”

“Why else would they act up, though, if they didn’t want to communicate?”

“Any number of reasons. From what you’ve given me so far, I think maybe this one wants to be left alone. Maybe the remodeling is making her crazy. The dead are like cats, in my experience. They don’t like change. You start messing with their familiar surroundings and they get antsy. ”

“But this one started acting up before the buyout and the construction. ”

“Maybe I’m wrong then. I don’t know. ”

He pointed down one of the wide corridors and jutted his chin towards a door. “That’s it. Room 236. Go take a stab at finding out. Uh—is there anything I need to do? Should I come with you? Stay out here?”

“Stay out here. I probably won’t be long. If there’s something in there and it wants to talk, great. If not, you’re out of luck. ”

“Try to get me a name, or something I can check out on the Internet, or through genealogy records. Maybe we’ll turn up a grisly murder. ”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be great?” I said, but he didn’t seem to get that I was joking.

“Hell yes it would. If she bleeds, she leads. Even if she bled out a hundred years ago. People eat this stuff up. ”

“Your selfless pursuit of justice does you credit. ”

“They’re going to give me a Nobel any day now, I can feel it. But I’d settle for a Pulitzer. ”

“I bet you would. ” I checked that the digital recorder was on, and then I took the card key.

“Feel free to chat into the mic yourself. Share your impressions of the room, the things you see. The stuff you hear. By all means sound a little panicky if you want. People dig panic. ”

I slipped the card key into the slot lock and a green light appeared, letting me know that it was open. “Sure. And while I’m at it, I’ll slip into something flimsy and investigate a strange sound in the basement. Would that work for you?”

“Like a charm”

“Stay put,” I told him. “I’ll be back out in a few minutes. Keep quiet, and don’t knock or anything. ”

“What if you need help?”

“I don’t see that happening. Shut up and wait. ”

I slipped inside and let the door slide close behind me with a hydraulic click. Within the room it was fairly dark, but afternoon sun oozed around the edges of the thick tapestry curtains. I went to the window and found the long white rod and pulled it to the right, drawing the curtains and their thick shade liner aside.

Thick puffs of dust accompanied the swishing of the curtains, and when the daylight poured in I saw that yes, it had been a while since the place was cleaned. With two fingers I swiped a shiny trail in the finish of the nightstand.

The bed was covered with a floral print spread, laid out in shades of green, maroon, and cream. A sturdy, cherry-stained headboard was fastened to the wall, and a large armoire held a television. I didn’t see a remote control. There was a coffee-maker, though, and an empty ice bucket beside the vanity sink.

“Hello?” I asked the room. “Anybody here?”

I don’t go in for too much formality, because in my experience it doesn’t help much. More often than not, the trigger is something simpler—something obscure and important that you’d never think about in a million years, anyway. You may as well wing it.

I tried a mental rundown of all the things a maid might disturb.

I pictured a big cart, laden with towels and shampoo samples. I imagined a vacuum. Dust rags. When would it begin? What would rouse the Lady in White?

“Anybody?” The red light on the recorder shined an electric thumbs-up that said all was well and ready. “Can anyone hear me? Would anyone like to come out and talk? Or is the staff here completely bananas?”

I muttered that last part.