chatter, and other overlapping sounds. Jo flinched.

“I don’t know, he was in the kitchen for a while. Why?”

“He’s passed out in the closet.”

“Jesus, make sure he didn’t tear any of our coats when he went down,” Robyn replied from next to her.

The woman was married to one of Jo’s uncles. She pushed into the crowd headed to the closet and Carl while Jo ducked her head in case Carl or Maddy looked her way. They could read her guilt from across the room.

Laying a hand on the kid’s shoulder, she turned to the distracted young man and grinned. “Hi Allen, I’m Kyle’s friend, Jo.”

“Oh shit.”

“Now don’t run. I’ve already told you we wouldn’t arrest you for the pot as long as you keep this conversation between us. We just need answers regarding Legends of Stone.” Jo slipped a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and waved towards the side door. “How about you come out for a smoke?”

Wide brown eyes met hers. Allen stammered, “I-I don’t smoke.”

“Neither do I kid, but this way we have a reason to leave the party without drawing attention and a reason to hang around the backyard with no one suspecting you gave us anything. Isn’t that what you were worried about? And why you wanted to meet at a Halloween party in disguise?” She didn’t add that most everyone in here either was a cop or related by birth or marriage to the ones in law enforcement.

Allen gulped before stating overly loud. “Okay, I would love a cigarette. We can smoke in the backyard.”

His tone was over exaggerated and made Jo cringe with how bad an actor the kid was. Sullivan chuckled, clapping Allen on the shoulder he steered the teenager out of the house with Jo trailing them, trying not to laugh.

Sullivan chose the picnic table nestled near the corner of the house and tossed the pack of cigarettes on it.

Allen’s gaze bounced around the empty swing set, the empty grill area, and the empty yard before settling back on them. “What do you want to know?”

Jo met Sullivan’s gaze and saw he wanted her to take the lead. “Why did you leave the social clan you were in?”

“The Cave? Well, it was more of a social clan, and I wanted to boss.”

“Yet you still hang out in the Cave.”

Allen shrugged. “I did until about a year ago. Bossing clans have a lot of flamers and trolls. The Cave was nice and relaxing so when I’m leveling skills I liked to visit in there and chat about movies and music and stuff.”

“And you couldn’t do that with your boss clan?”

“Hell no. Those guys would shred you. They’re all about how many boss kills you had that day or what latest armor I’ve bought. There’s even a schedule on when we’re required to tank a boss. Which is a pain and costs a good chunk of gold because you get to take the majority of the damage while the clan kills the boss.”

“So you’re the decoy.”

“No . . . a tank,” Allen replied very slow, as if Jo were stupid.

“But you were in the Cave for a while before you left?”

“Oh yeah. I was in there for a few years. It’s why I was still hanging out in there, I had friends from all over the place. But the past year the admins have gone nuts about anyone visiting that used to be in the clan. So I stopped going in there.”

Her gut clenched. If this kid had been there from the beginning, he’d know all the players. Maybe even who killed Mark. “The admins were going nuts how? In what way?”

Sullivan’s gaze latched onto Allen.

“Not all. Only three of them absolutely hate visitors. A few others aren’t crazy about us visiting. Maybe like seven total.” He tugged at the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt under the plastic chest plate. “It’s why I quit going in there.”

“Define hate? Why do they hate visitors?” Jo wanted to ask if the three would kill the guests who hung out in the chat, but that would send Allen running faster than a jackrabbit chased by dogs.

Allen fiddled with the sword at his waist. “Well, like two of them are vocal about the chat being closed to visitors all the time. Which is done if the Cave has events, but since it’s a social chat it’s opened back up as soon as the event is over.”

“They don’t like guests at all?”

He tipped his head from side to side. “With them it’s weird, they like some of us but not all. The worst one is Serioulias, he says those who leave the group should never be allowed to return because they’re betrayers.”

“Betrayers? They used that word?”

“Yeah, he had a whole thing when the Cave’s original owner wanted to leave for a bossing clan. He tried to shut down the chat for guests. It was a verbal war zone in the game chat, in the IRC channel, and on the gaming speech software we used. I heard he tried to get the admins to shun the old leader.”

Serioulias had to be their guy. “What happened?”

Allen shrugged. “I don’t know. The owner left the game. Most people think it was because he got sick of the drama, but some say he went to college and got caught up in school.”

Jo knew better. Mark was killed. “Was Serioulias always like this?”

“Nah. It was only when Mark wanted to leave then it’s like a switch flipped.” Allen gnawed on his lip. “It was weird because Serioulias used to be one of my friends until he started spouting that stuff. I dropped him after I left because he would message me about betraying the clan and stuff.”

It couldn’t be this easy. Jo wanted to know more about Serioulias and the others Allen said were unhappy with visitors. Sullivan scribbled in his small notebook, and she pinned Allen to his seat. “What were the names of the admins unhappy with visitors?”

Allen shrugged. “They change their

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