Read Band of Demons (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Two) for Free Online Page B

a name and a voice. And I guarantee that any bad thing out there in this terrible world will want to stay as far away as possible.”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “You heard Janus. He warned us not to raise our profile. If we do this, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Whoever is hunting us will know just where to look.”
    “It’s a risk, but what choice do we have?” Quinn asked. “Our careers are on the line. If we don’t respond to it, everyone will think we screwed up. And we can’t very well make up another killer. Besides, can you imagine the look on Summer’s face when we scoop her on this? She’s going to throw herself off a building or something.”
    Kate laughed at that.
    “Okay,” she said. “We can try it. But only if we can legitimately get the letter from someone else. We don’t need the police to suspect us anymore than they already do. And for the record, I’m still not sure this is a great idea.”
    “Deal,” Quinn said. “We’ll be careful.”
     
    *****
    Implementing the plan was easier said than done.
    Quinn spent several useless hours calling police sources, none of whom could help him. Kate trolled the Internet, looking for possible sightings of the Headless Horseman. While she found plenty of mentions, mostly it was of a “friend” who saw the legendary ghost, not the actual witness.
    And time was running out. All day, Rebecca and Tim fielded calls from other media organizations asking the same question: Do you stand behind your story? Is Lord Halloween dead? Was there a secret partner?
    The breakthrough didn’t come until Kate called Johnny Redacker, her father’s friend who remained on the Loudoun police force.
    “How come you only call me when bad news hits the papers?” he asked.
    “If I called you every time there was bad news, you’d hear from me every day,” Kate replied. “Bad news is our stock and trade, you know.”
    Redacker grunted in response.
    “I don’t know how much I can tell you,” he said. “We—like you—believe Thompson acted alone.”
    “Okay, then who killed him?” she asked.
    “We really don’t have a clue,” Redacker responded.
    “That’s not true,” Kate said, and then decided to take a leap. “We have an inside source that says someone took credit for the murders.”
    There was a long, pregnant pause.
    “What else do you know?”
    There were two ways to play it. Kate could seem like she knew everything—which she obviously did—and ask him to confirm information. But that was risky and potentially suspicious. Very few on the police force knew anything about last year’s letter. If she said too much, it would be like firing a flare in the sky to announce who the Prince of Sanheim was.
    But she hated the other method, even if it was a trick reporters had used since the dawn of their profession: playing dumb. It worked so often because it took advantage of a fundamental truth of human nature: people want to show off. If they know more about a subject, they like to demonstrate it. In this case, it was the safer play.
    “Honestly, Mr. Redacker, that’s all I know,” she said. “The source I talked to said they overheard something once that made it sound like there was someone who had claimed responsibility for Lord Halloween’s death. But they didn’t know who or even how long ago.”
    There was another long pause. Kate could practically hear the wheels turning in Redacker’s head. This was a make-or-break moment for him.
    “All right,” he said. “I’m going to tell you something I shouldn’t. But… in all honesty, I think it would help at this stage. The panic has already started, Kate. The phones are ringing off the hook. I don’t think this town has ever really believed Lord Halloween is dead. He’s not just a serial killer to them—he’s the goddamned bogeyman.”
    “But he is dead,” Kate said. “That much I know.”
    “Yes,” Redacker replied. “This isn’t like last time, when we knew there