crime beat and so worked with this department for more than a decade. His disappearance was reported Sunday. We here have not always agreed with his coverage, but we respected his work. He was also a police officer for two years with this department. It is with sincere sadness that I report that at 7:00 a.m. this morning we discovered a body identified as that of Kyle Thompson. Though the body has been tampered with, pending DNA tests, we have sufficient evidence to conclude it was Kyle.”
Quinn felt like he had been hit in the gut. It was the answer he had been expecting, almost. But it had not seemed real then. Part of him really believed that Kyle just blew town, even when he knew that made no sense. Kyle, who set his watch forward three minutes early so he would never be late. Kyle, who insisted on talking to everyone about wrestling even when he knew no one cared. Kyle, who would not have walked away from this story in a million years.
Quinn could feel all eyes on him. It seemed like the other reporters, for one moment, wanted to give him some measure of respect. Quinn kept his voice calm, his tone steady.
“Do you believe it was the person claiming to be Lord Halloween that killed him?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, we do,” Brown said. “I’m sorry, Quinn.”
And with that, Brown was gone. The other reporters threw questions at Brown as he left, some even trying to get out the door with him. Quinn sat down and stared at the floor.
(Quinn, I’m so sorry.)
(We didn’t always get along, but… he was a damn fine reporter. I…)
His thoughts broke away. Somehow he became aware that a video camera was focusing on him. For a second, he forgot why. And then he knew. Because they wanted the visual to go along with the story. They had the ridiculous announcement, clearly authorized by Lord Halloween himself, but that wasn’t enough. The cameras had to have a picture of grief. And Quinn was the closest thing.
(Just walk away.) Kate advised.
(I hate these guys,) he thought back. (Where are they when anything good happens in Loudoun, or when it’s just the local board meeting to cover? We’re down in the trenches every day and they just show up when the bodies surface.)
(Just walk away.) Kate said again. And if she felt his anger, he also felt her calm. Someone who understood grief better than he did and who might have had more cause to be angry at the vultures around them.
Quinn stood up slowly, did not face the cameras and walked out. Only Summer followed him out the door.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Quinn,” she said.
Quinn was uncertain how to proceed. He was so used to disliking her, it was almost difficult to see her express some sincere emotion.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
(Is she hitting on me?) he asked.
(No. Look at the recorder in her hand, genius.) Kate replied.
And there it was. It felt good to know that he could still dislike her.
“You want a comment?” he asked.
Summer raised the recorder up expectantly.
(Don’t do anything stupid.) Kate warned.
“Write this down. Now that the best Post reporter, Summer Mandaville, is on the story, I’m sure Lord Halloween is quaking in his boots.”
Summer switched the recorder off.
“You know I can’t use that,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s a pity,” Quinn replied, and walked off in the direction of the Chronicle office. He had other things to think about. Some part of his brain that was still dispassionate was already thinking of how to structure the story. Methodically, he started to think about what he would say, how to tell the story of his colleague’s death.
Friday, Oct. 27
Kate watched the leaves blow down East Market Street, which now looked less like the historic town of Leesburg and more like a ghost town out west. Signs hung on the doors of most of the shops declaring, “Closed until further notice.” Many people had simply left town.
The ones who hadn’t left remained paranoid. Kate had taken notes at the local middle schools where parents had shown up to take their kids home personally, not trusting a bus to drop them off. People were afraid to leave their kids, or themselves, alone for even one second.
Not that it would help. Kate knew that Lord Halloween had wanted this to happen. He thrived on the attention, the panic and the knowledge that he could still pick people off one by one. Unless everyone simply moved out of the county, they would not be 100 % safe.
She was least of all, she knew. It must still be part of his plan to kill her and more than likely Quinn too. So it was with some trepidation that she had pursued her assignments alone today. But the Chronicle was short- staffed.
Half of the staff had elected not to come to work Thursday. For some, it was genuine grief over Kyle. For most, it was fear for themselves. After all, if a serial killer decides to kill one reporter, maybe he will just keep going. Helen, who fancied herself the star reporter of the paper, called in sick. Buzz did not use an excuse. He had e-mailed Monday to say he would be out for the foreseeable future. Bill also did not bother to pretend. He had told Josh flatly that he was “not fucking coming in until the psycho stops picking us off.”
Laurence had tried to persuade a few to come in. Alexis and Josh were in the office. And Quinn and Kate figured they were safer in a public place anyway, both from Lord Halloween and the Headless Horseman. Kate laughed to herself. It felt ridiculous even to think of it that way. But it didn’t change what was happening.
So they were all being sent on solo assignments, at least to try and cover everything. Quinn was nominally following a tip, but really back at Janus’ apartment-which the three of them had turned into a fortress-looking again at the hotel security tapes. It was comforting to Kate to sense him there. She had a gun for her own protection, but knew that back-up was just a quick thought away. She could even see the video when she concentrated.
She could see him in her mind going slowly through the tape, pausing every few minutes. He was bored and she laughed to herself. It was so strange and wonderful to have this other person in her head this way. She might have imagined it could be terrible, but… she felt no downside. To really know a person, to know what they think and feel, was a gift. There was no doubting his fidelity, love or commitment to her. Quinn belonged to her and she to him. She wasn’t even sure they were really two separate people anymore. That should frighten her, but it didn’t. The two had become one.
But it was a gift that came along with the price of the Horseman. She wondered if it would be worth it. For now, it was the only bright spot. After she finished her assignment, she would go see him. Even with him in her head, she wanted to be with him again. And maybe they could go somewhere for a while… forget about all this for a bit.
(Stop.) Quinn thought at her.
(Sorry.) she said immediately. (I thought you weren’t paying attention.)
(You were starting to think about sex. It got my attention.)
(Typical.)
(Hey, you were the one thinking it. Some of us are trying to work.)
(Okay, okay.)
She smiled to herself and let it drop. If they were still alive at the end of the month, they would go away somewhere, together. She knew that whatever their connection was would probably be at its weakest-her research had said it could drop out altogether-but they needed a chance to get away.
(It’s a deal.) Quinn thought at her. (But for right now, please let me work.)
Kate continued walking down the street and taking notes along the way. It was easier to record the shops that were open rather than the ones that were closed. Occasionally, she would stop in to interview a shopkeeper or one of the few patrons she saw.
Suddenly she heard a voice behind her.
“So how’s my favorite part of the Wonder Twins?” Janus said, and Kate wheeled around, her hand already reaching into her purse for the gun.
