“Which was?”
“I left them a note,” she said.
“Who?”
“Sheriff Brown and the rest of the police.”
“What did it say?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said, and she smiled.
“I hate that you can keep secrets,” he replied, but he was smiling too.
“That’s just it, Quinn. I can’t keep them for long.”
“Seriously, what did it say?”
“Ask me later,” she said. “You’ll find out.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Well,” Kate said finally. “Where do you want to go once we see my Dad?”
“I did have one idea,” he said and grinned.
“Which is?” she asked.
“I put the brochure in the glove compartment,” he replied.
She opened up the compartment and found a single brochure with the picture of a small town in autumn on it. Kate laughed out loud.
“You have to be kidding me,” she said.
“I figured we should visit our roots.”
She opened the brochure up.
“Welcome to Sleepy Hollow, New York,” it said. “Where legends and magic await.”
“Sounds perfect,” Kate said.
PS File: Letter #1
Date: Nov. 1, 2006
Investigation Status: Open
Contents: Classified
Dear Sheriff Brown,
Some of what we tell you will be lies. This is necessary to protect us both. We were the ones who killed Lord Halloween-that part is no lie, we assure you. Where you failed, we succeeded. Let me be clear up front: we will tolerate no further incompetence from you or your staff. You have let dozens of people die at the hands of a madman. You can claim victory over Lord Halloween-we bear you no ill will if you want to hog credit-as long as you understand that you had nothing to do with it. Without us, he would still be out there. Without us, he would still be killing.
Why are we writing to you? Because you are going to hear stories, lots of them. Stories that do not make sense; stories about monsters and ghosts. Some know these stories already-just ask your own son. These stories will be true. In the absence of divine intervention from above, Loudoun County will receive assistance from down below. The monsters are out in force. Continuing the ban on Halloween will not stop us.
But let us be clear: the innocent have no reason to fear us and we will give them none. Only those that lurk in shadows to strike at others have a reason to panic. To those that murder without cause, we are their worst nightmare. To those that desire retribution, we are their greatest ally.
There are times in life when one must make a stand. We intend to do so. Our medium is the one best understood by every being on this planet, from the lowly maggot to us-fear.
We will be the thing people fear. Our name already sends a shiver down the spine of the guilty, and soon it will be synonymous with the creeping darkness.
We are night. We are October. We are flesh rendered and torn. We are the rider that was promised long ago, the harbinger of fall: We are death, riding on a black horse.
You can call us the Prince of Sanheim.
