EarnCorp Investments had its offices on the tenth floor of one of Chicago's most upscale office buildings. It wasn't hard to find someone there who could tell them that, yes, Carolyn and David had been acquainted, so before long they were at his office. His own executive assistant deferred to their badges and let them in to see him when he was between phone calls.

"David, this is Dema Culver and Tom Finn. They're here about Carolyn's death. Can you give them a few minutes?"

Hanley stood up and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. He gave them a salesman's smile and said, "Sure, sure. I was really sorry to hear what happened to Carolyn. Don't know what help I can be, but I'm happy to try."

Dema let Tom ask the routine questions about how well Hanley knew Carolyn and what could he tell them about her. 

She watched Hanley. He hid it well, but she was pretty sure he was strung out himself. His eyes were twitchy and his face was a bit drawn. 

Finally she leaned forward in her chair and said, "Mr. Hanley, do you use Cocaine?"

His big fake smile turned back on. "I've been to a few parties if that's what you mean. Who hasn't? But that was years ago. Since before I got this job." He waived his hand around his rather big, expensively appointed office as if to present it as evidence that he was smart and successful and could not possibly be on drugs.

That's when Carolyn appeared. Dema sensed her presence and opened herself to the shaman dream. When she did she saw Carolyn standing beside Hanley's chair, shaking her head angrily in contradiction of his professed innocence.

Hanley went on to say, "I really try to stay away from those people. Poor Carolyn was a user, and everyone knew it. I haven't even seen her for weeks."

"He called me that night!" Carolyn exclaimed. "He asked me out, said he had some good stuff and wanted to share it. He even told me where to meet him!" She punched him on the shoulder.

It was a ghostly punch with no visible impact, but Hanley reacted to it. He flinched away from it, and glanced up at Carolyn. Tiny beads of sweat began to form on his brow.

He sees her! Dema realized. He sees her, but thinks we don't. So he tries to pretend she's not here.

Dema looked at Tom. She could tell he'd noticed the reaction, but wasn't aware of Carolyn as the cause.

Then Dema realized something else. Hanley was not surprised by Carolyn's presence. His glance at her was pure reflex, confirming something he already knew. He had seen this ghost, or one like her, before. That gave Dema an idea.

"David, I want to mention the names of a few other victims like Carolyn, see if by chance any of them ring a bell."

The smile became more forced and his eyes flicked around the room nervously, but he said, "Okay. Like I said before, don't know what help I can be, but I'm happy to try."

She turned to Tom. "Do you have that list of names of other victims that seemed to fit the same pattern?"

Tom nodded, and pulled out a notebook. He started reading off names. Hanley remained carefully calm, pretending to be attentive. Dema looked at Carolyn, and opened her shaman dream awareness to the possibility of other spirits.

When Tom read the name Rene Watkins, Hanley's eyes twitched involuntarily. Dema watched as another ghost materialized beside his chair, and stood there with her hands on her hips. Hanley glanced at her furtively, and more beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Tom read on.

The next ghost appeared at the name Liz Newbury. Liz looked in wonder at Carolyn and Rene, then flew into a rage and pounced on Hanley. He did his best to ignore her, and said to Tom and Dema, "I'm sorry, but this is getting us nowhere. I didn't know any of the girls you've named. And I have business to take care of. I think we need to end this now."

Tom obligingly put away his notebook, but Dema said, "Just a few more, David, if you don't mind. She looked up at the girls standing beside him. From within the shaman dream she said to them, "There are more of you, aren't there."

Rene said, "I think there was one named Tina."

Another ghost appeared. "Trina, Trina Moore. That's me. Are you going to arrest this murdering scumbag?"

Dema looked back at Hanley and repeated the name aloud. His smile had vanished, and he'd gone pale.

Another ghost arrived, and identified herself as Nance Hodges. Dema repeated her name too, but realized she didn't have to. Hanley had heard her.

Dema looked at Tom, who was now watching Hanley intently. He was seeing this seemingly self-possessed investment executive come apart before his eyes.

"What are you?" Hanley was saying. "Some kind of avenging angel? You see them too, don't you? They're not just my imagination."

Hanley, Dema realized, was in the dream. He was seeing her as the Lamia, and he was seeing his own ghosts, vividly. 

She wondered if her shaman dream had sensitized him, but decided it was his own predilection, and the drugs in his system. It was clear he'd sensed them before, but possibly not this strongly. She could take some credit for that.

The girls knew Hanley could no longer ignore them, and they were railing at him, screaming and cursing, and at the same time telling Dema lurid details of what he had done to them.

"The sadistic bastard wasn't satisfied to get me high and fuck me," one was saying, "He had to beat me up afterward. Then he got worried I'd squeal on him, and suffocated me with the pillow."

"He did the same thing to me," said another, "Then when I was dead he tried to make it look like I'd died in my sleep. Thought he could get away with it. Didn't know I was watching him the whole time. Have another think now, you bastard!"

The rest of them chimed in again, screaming at Hanley and beating him with their immaterial fists. He put his hands over his ears and looked imploringly at Dema. "Make them stop," he said.

"Who, Carolyn and all the rest of the girls you killed? They're haunting you are they?"

"Yes, all of them! You don't know what it's like! It's not my fault, I was high when I did it. I couldn't help it. But they won't leave me alone."

Dema turned to Tom, who had his notebook out again. "That sounded a lot like a confession to me," she said. "I think you'd better take him in."

Tom nodded, and got out his cuffs. "David Hanley, you're under arrest for the murder of Carolyn Jones. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney..."

Hanley's executive assistant's jaw dropped when they walked him past her out of the office. But Dema noticed a tiny smile begin to appear on her face as they left. He would not be missed.

Tom called for a squad car while they were on their way down in the elevator. When they got out to the curb the girls piled into the back of it after Hanley. Being immaterial, they didn't have any trouble all squeezing in, but Hanley looked distinctly uncomfortable. Dema advised the girls to stick with him until the police got his confession recorded. They assured her they would. 

"After all, we're dead," said Trina, "We got nothing better to do."-