The ghost hunters wore masks as they crept through the old hotel, and their breath felt hot on their faces. Soon they would be standing in a pentagram on the empty top floor of the abandoned Palace Arms hotel, attempting to communicate with a dead woman. There would be a decaying body in the bathroom and three police officers waiting in the parking lot below. But they weren't there yet.The five-some snaked slowly through the dark hallways of the old building, following the beam of a flashlight. They each carried a gallon-sized Ziploc bag and a backpack. Their feet squished in wet carpet.If you squinted, you could see their eyes above the masks, flitting back and forth as shapes appeared out of the darkness. Old dressers and TVs and toilets cluttered the walkways of the hotel, which will be torn down soon. The hunters searched for signs of the otherworldly, breathing their hot breath.And you walked with them.Becca Nybeck walked into the newspaper office two weeks ago, and in a strong, deep voice asked to see the librarian. You formed an image of her in your mind, and when you turned to look at the counter you had to smile.Nybeck was maybe 5 feet tall and wouldn't have weighed triple digits holding a watermelon.But she carried herself powerfully. She pulled back her long dark hair and asked her question.She wanted something no one else had ever requested. The woman desired to dig through the archives for information on everyone who died at the old hotel, because she wanted to cleanse the building of its spirits.