Band of Demons (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Two) by Rob Blackwell Read Free Book Online

were lingering doubts about Holober. We’re sure about Thompson.”
    “So the person who killed him?”
    “He, or she, I suppose, though that’s less likely,” he said, and Kate was glad he couldn’t see her smile, “sent a letter. It took responsibility for killing Lord Halloween.”
    “I don’t suppose it was signed?”
    “Actually, it was,” Redacker said. “But I’m going to make you a deal. I want you and Quinn to come down to the station.”
    For just a moment, Kate’s heart was in her throat. He knows , she thought. He’s known all along. Her mouth went dry.
    “Why?” she asked in as calm a voice as she could manage.
    “Because I can’t give you more details without Brown’s approval,” Redacker said. “Before you start protesting about confidentiality, he knows we’re family friends, Kate. And I’m one of the few people who knows the right details here. If you printed anything I told you, he would know instantly who gabbed.”
    Kate started breathing again. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath.
    “You think Brown would willingly help us?” Kate asked.
    “He’s changed since last year, Kate,” Redacker said, and his voice was low. “I don’t think you realize how hard the whole episode was on him. The calls today, the media attention… he wants it to go away. I think I can talk to him, bring him around. If anyone can make it go away, it’s you two. You practically wrote the book on Lord Halloween.”
    They made arrangements, Kate thanked him and then she hung up. She went to find Quinn.
     
    *****
    They had agreed to meet at 6 p.m. If they got the story they wanted, they would be pushing it to make it into the Chronicle’s print edition.
    But as they drove to the police office, Quinn wasn’t sure how much that mattered anymore. During his first staff meeting, Tim had emphasized the importance of the website over the print edition, calling it “the wave of the future.” Quinn was deeply uncomfortable with the idea—there was something pleasant about flipping through a broadsheet paper, even getting an ink smudge on your fingertips. But he wasn’t sure Tim was wrong either. The world was changing but the fundamental rule of survival stayed the same: adapt or die. It was still up in the air for the newspaper business.
    Already he couldn’t imagine doing his job without the Internet or e-mail, and he had been in journalism long enough to remember cutting out stories, waxing them, and then carefully placing them on storyboards to be photographed and printed. Now it was all digital. He had hated the waxers when he used them, had constantly complained that they jammed and left his fingers covered in goo. And now he found he missed them.
    Quinn pulled into the police station and parked in a visitor spot. The two of them were about to get out of the car when Kate noticed a figure walking across the parking lot.
    “That bitch,” she said.
    Summer Mandaville was heading toward them.
    Kate was out of the car before Quinn could stop her. She rapidly crossed the parking lot and practically rushed the Post reporter. Summer, a petite woman with short, curly brown hair, looked alarmed, took a step back, and then got angry.
    “What are you doing here?” Summer demanded.
    “Trying to repair the damage you did this morning,” Kate replied.
    “What damage? All I did was report the truth.”
    “You lied and panicked the town,” Kate said.
    Quinn came running up.
    “I’m just raising questions,” Summer replied. “Questions you two ignored. I don’t deny you got a great scoop a few months ago. But I don’t think the situation is quite as tidy as you claimed.”
    “I swear I’m going to…”
    “Kate…” Quinn said.
    “What?” Summer said. “You’ll what? You know, I’m tired of you acting like you are God’s gift to journalism, Kate.”
    “Why, because that’s your job?” Quinn cut in.
    “Face it, you’re mad because you got beat,” Summer said. “Grow