Just off the dining room they found a set of French doors that still retained many of the original glass panes. Through it was a small limestone courtyard that jutted just beyond the protective overhang of a balcony above, with steps leading down into a once-elaborate garden. Though overgrown as was all the Danner property, they could still make out cobbled walkways snaking through the grass, leading out to where the familiar, less vegetated drive met them and formed a circular turnaround. Beyond that was the dark mass of forest that surrounded the property.

Bart pointed up toward the balcony above the porch. “Master bedroom?” he wondered. “That must be where the heinous crime took place, nyah ah ah.” He hunched his shoulders and dragged one foot. “Shall we look for bloodthtains, mathta?”

“Cut it out, dork.”

“You ain’t still scared, are you?”

“No.”

Bart laughed. “Yes you are. Wuss. C’mon.”

They went back to the entry hall and checked their gear before starting up the dilapidated staircase, with each step making the requisite groan and quickening their ascent. They found the landing less windblown than below and the carpet in somewhat better shape. They checked each room as they went but found nothing, just drawerless bureaus and fallen shelves and bedframes too massive to be looted. Soon they were at the closed door of the master bedroom.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Bart teased as he gave the door a gentle shove. It swung open, revealing a flurry of dark commotion inside. Del sucked wind and was halfway down the hall before Bart’s yells brought him to a stop. “It’s okay, Cap. It’s just birds! Get back here!”

Del returned sheepishly, eyes still bulging, and peeked inside. Most of the birds had vacated by that time, vanishing through the glassless balcony doors, but a few starlings and swallows were still on the floor or roosting on the mantle. Bart walked into the center of the room, forcing a few irate blackbirds from his path, and held out his arms. “See? No ghosts. Just birdies.”

“I wasn’t scared.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t, Bart. I was just . . . surprised, that’s all.”

“Whatever you say, Cap.” He looked about the room. There was the obligatory bedframe, this one even larger than the others and discolored by bird droppings. There was no other furniture, just an empty fireplace and lots of nests and excrement. “No bloodstains,” he observed. “You’d think there would be if old Danner had chopped up his wife and brother in here. There’d be lakes of it, if you ask me.”

“Would you shut up?”

“What is there to be scared of, Cap? There were no murders. We came, we saw, we discovered the truth. End of story. I proclaim this house ghost-free.” He blinked his eyes which were by now reddened from fatigue and too much dust. “I think we can turn in now.”

“To sleep?”