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

up.”
    Kate was breathing so hard, Quinn was worried she would actually physically attack Summer. The look on her face was murderous.
    “We’re mad because your story was dead wrong,” Kate said. “Lord Halloween is dead. He didn’t have a partner.”
    “So you say.”
    “So I know,” Kate said. “Did you know he killed my mother?”
    “I read your articles, Kate,” Summer said. “We all know that.”
    “Your sympathy is overwhelming.”
    “It’s irrelevant,” Summer said in a clipped tone. “My job is to report the truth. And that’s what I did. There are a lot of questions around his death. If it wasn’t a partner, who was it? Why didn’t they take credit for it? Why hide?”
    Kate glared at her rival but had nothing to say.
    “It’s not that simple, Summer,” Quinn said. “You have no evidence that Lord Halloween was colluding with anyone. The police think he was acting alone. You raised questions for the sake of raising them. You didn’t provide any ‘truth,’ you just spooked a bunch of already scared people.”
    Summer looked imperiously at Quinn.
    “I did my job,” she said simply, but he thought his comment had stung her nevertheless. “And I hope you aren’t thinking the police are going to help you. I’ve been here half the day and they aren’t saying anything.”
    It was Kate’s turn to look smug.
    “Maybe they’ll be a little more willing to talk to us,” she said. “You know, since we broke the original story and all.”
    Summer’s face was so red it looked for a minute like it might explode. Instead of responding, she turned on her heel and stomped off to her car.
    “I’m going to miss her,” Quinn said, quoting one of Janus’ favorite movie lines. “I’m going to get her a nice fruit basket.”
    Kate watched her go.
    “One day I hope she gets her comeuppance,” she said.
    “Be careful what you wish for,” he said. “Come on, we’re late. We need to get inside.”
     
    *****
    The meeting went surprisingly well. Redacker was waiting for them in his office. When they walked in and sat down, he stood.
    “Before I begin, I want to set some ground rules,” he said. “Everything I say can be attributed to a ‘police source,’ but I can’t be named. The document I’m about to hand you, however, can be used as you see fit.”
    “What document?” Kate asked.
    “First things first,” Redacker said. “Do you agree?”
    Kate and Quinn both nodded.
    With that, Redacker handed Kate a letter in an envelope. Kate opened it and was unsurprised to find the letter she had written six months earlier staring her in the face—the one from the Prince of Sanheim. She mentally forced herself to remember she had never seen it.
    “Who’s the Prince of Sanheim?” Kate asked.
    Quinn shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
    “We don’t know,” Redacker said, “but please understand we’re looking into it.”
    “Another serial killer?” Kate asked.
    “We don’t think so,” Redacker said. “Our theory is that someone discovered Lord Halloween’s identity, killed him, and then is using this alias to cover their tracks. For whatever reason, they don’t want to admit it.”
    “Could it be a partner?”
    “I think you know the answer to that,” Redacker said. “Between the information you gathered and our investigation, it’s clear Thompson was a loner. He didn’t trust anyone. Why someone would want to cover their tracks, we don’t know. Honestly, we would have pinned a medal on the guy who killed that monster.”
    “So why the letter?”
    “We don’t know,” he said. “A message to us maybe. It’s possible someone has a vigilante bent, fancies himself Batman or something. Or it’s likely this person is just angry at our failure to catch Lord Halloween ourselves.”
    Quinn was furiously taking notes.
    “Why are you suddenly being so helpful?” Quinn asked.
    Redacker paused, gave them both searching looks.
    “Off the record, I won’t deny Sheriff Brown