A Soul To Steal (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book One) (37 page)

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.

She took a breath when she saw Janus and eased her hand away.

“Easy there,” Janus said, holding up his hands. “I thought you heard me walk up behind you.”

“Janus, these days, you should really call first before walking up to someone,” she replied.

“I know, sorry. I was on the way to my car,” he said.

“Why is it parked out here? Why didn’t you park out behind the paper?”

“Are you kidding?” he asked. “And dream about how that maniac will hide in the back seat of my car and at precisely the wrong moment, turn up and stab me in the neck? I don’t fucking think so.”

“Right, right,” she said. “Of course, you could just check your car before you leave.”

“It’s better out here,” he said.

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“Laurence is pulling his hair out in there,” Janus replied. “He keeps trying to get reporters back in the office. He told me to go see Buzz and try to persuade him to come back.”

“You want company?” she asked.

“Nah,” Janus said. “Buzz doesn’t know you that well. He sees you coming, he could come up with some paranoid fantasy that we’re an assassination squad.”

She nodded.

“Besides,” he continued. “I’m wondering if he’s skipped town or something. Laurence said he heard from him once yesterday, but that the connection was bad. Old Buzz could have hit the road.”

“Just be careful,” Kate said.

“Hey, my middle name is careful,” Janus replied. “But enough about that—are you guys any closer to figuring out the Horseman? For that matter, are we any closer to Lord Halloween?”

“Just theories spinning in our head,” she responded.

“I noticed you said ‘our head,’” Janus said. “I guess you meant that literally. So what happens if you beat the Horseman? Can you control him?”

“I don’t know,” Kate said.

“And do you control him or does Quinn?”

“I don’t know.”

“Or can you do other stuff, like read minds, or summon spirits from the underworld, or stuff like that?”

“No, but we can shoot laser beams out of our eyes.”

“Really?” Janus asked.

“No, don’t be stupid,” Kate said. “I told you, I don’t know. Nothing in the research is conclusive. There is some trial, you either pass or you fail, and that’s it. There’s a Prince of Sanheim or a dead person. And what happens after that, I don’t know.”

“Other than to know you turn back into a pumpkin at midnight on Halloween,” Janus said.

“Yes,” she said. “Whatever power we get, it ends after Halloween is over. At least for a while.”

“How long?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Nov. 1 is All Saint’s Day, a holy day, so I’m sure we get nothing then. But maybe it returns gradually over time.”

“Let’s just hope you have enough time,” Janus said.

“For what? We aren’t really planning to face this thing down, you know,” Kate said. “I don’t know that we can defeat the Horseman and we’re a little busy trying to avoid someone else who wants to kill us.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Janus asked. “It’s the only way, right? Lord Halloween is smarter than you.”

“Hey.”

“Face it, he’s smarter than everybody,” Janus said. “He’s one step ahead of the police, he’s one step ahead of us. We have all these details on him, we know his pattern, and we have nothing. It could be anybody.”

“I don’t think so,” Kate said. “I think it is someone connected with the paper.”

“Then who?” Janus asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said. “But if you beat the Horseman, you have powers, right? Who is to say you don’t know who the killer is then? Who’s to say you don’t know where he is hiding? You get the upper hand, for once. He thinks you are harmless Kate and Quinn, but no, you’re the fucking Prince of Sanheim. You’re a legend.”

Kate thought about what he was saying. When they had initially heard about the trial, Quinn had been confident they could win it, but she hadn’t been so sure. She had convinced him they had to wait. Deal with Lord Halloween, then wait until next year to face this trial. If they could even delay it. But they were no closer to figuring that out. But Janus had a good point, the one that Quinn had made himself. It was an all or nothing bet. If they couldn’t beat the Horseman, they were dead anyway. But if they could…

But Kate thought of the man in Quinn’s dream. That was what the man wanted. Something told her that whatever he wanted, it wasn’t good. What if it really had been the Devil?

(
He’s not the devil
.) Quinn thought.

(
You don’t know that
)

“I can see you are hearing voices again,” Janus said. “Tell Quinn I said hi. Look, just think about what I said, okay? I’ve got to run.”

Janus turned and walked up the street toward his car.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

Janus stuck his arm in the air and flashed the V-sign.

(
I think he is flicking you off.
) Quinn said.

Kate laughed and turned to walk back toward the paper.

*****

Lord Halloween could not believe what he was hearing. He had been so close, so close to dealing with Kate. He had been watching her for over an hour go into various shops, being a reporter. He had liked watching her move. She was very good looking. And he was enjoying the hunt. There were two more bodies the police hadn’t found and he was already moving on to body number three.

And then that little fucker had gotten in the way. He had been close enough to hear them—there was an abandoned shop nearby—but he hadn’t understood a word. Instead of being afraid of him, Kate was talking about the Horseman. Who the fuck was the Horseman? He briefly considered that there was some rival serial killer, but if there were, it was news to him. And what was this about the Prince of Sanheim?

I must have driven her insane, he thought.

It was the only explanation and it did nothing to soothe his spirit. If she were crazy, it seemed Janus and Quinn were too. They should be worried about him. In fact, Kate and Quinn should be dead already. But Lord Halloween knew he could not have gotten through Quinn’s door without waking them up. He had decided to wait.

Now it appeared something else was going on and he didn’t like that one bit.

He was keenly aware every minute he stood there was a risk. What bothered him more than anything was that whatever they were talking about seemed to be connected to Halloween. And Halloween was his day—his day. Look at this place, he thought. Shops are closed, people have fled. Because of one man. Because of him. Halloween was all about fear—dressing up as the thing you are afraid of—and he ruled it.

But Kate and Quinn didn’t seem afraid. He had almost been close enough to kill them both and they were worried about people on fucking horses. Kate was meant to be his great comeback story—one that would have even brought CNN to town. Not only had that failed, but she didn’t even seem worried about him.

Kate and Quinn would regret their distractions, he thought as he watched Janus walk down the street. If they had forgotten about him, then he would just have to remind them.

There were just a few days to Halloween and he planned to use them well. Long enough to do what he wanted. Long enough to make Kate and Quinn pay.

Chapter 22

Friday, Oct. 27

Quinn was considering turning off the video when he saw it. He had concluded the entire process was a waste of time. Lord Halloween was too careful to simply walk past a security camera. But for some reason he kept coming back to it. In the hospital room, he had been out of it, but he had felt sure he had seen something.

Now he was sure he saw it again. It had been quick, just out of the corner of his eye, something like a flash of metal. It could have been a watch, but Quinn didn’t think so. He rewound the tape and paused. It was the arm of a jacket—nothing more. He couldn’t see the man or woman it was attached to. The jacket was olive green and Quinn thought the shade looked familiar. Like he had seen it before. Like he knew who the jacket belonged to.

It felt like a song that he couldn’t place. He knew who that jacket belonged to, but he couldn’t place it. It was just on the tip of his tongue. Work backward, he thought. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He was mentally flipping through the people he knew like old photographs when it came to him.

The piece of metal he was looking at was a medal—from the Vietnam War. He only knew one person who wore such a thing. He pictured it sitting on the chair at the
Loudoun
Chronicle
. How many days had he seen it just lying there? And yet he didn’t recognize it when it was out of place.

Dear God, he thought, the jacket. It belongs to Buzz. He had been in the hotel just before Kate’s room was ransacked.

“Jesus,” Quinn said.

(
Where was Janus headed?
) he asked Kate.

Kate had stopped in mid-interview when he had figured out who the jacket belonged to.

(
Buzz. He was going to see Buzz
.)

(
We have to get there. Now. He’s in trouble.
)

*****

Janus drove to the end of the cul-de-sac in Ashburn, parked the car on the curb and got out. He sighed. Every time Janus saw Buzz’s house, it looked like a run-down mess. Buzz had inherited it from his mother, who had died only about four years ago. But he did not seem to inherit the ability to keep it up.

The grass was long, at least three of the shutters hung at slightly crooked angles. If he didn’t know better, Janus might think a crazy person lived there. Only he supposed one did. Buzz was the most paranoid person he had ever met—he had been worried about Lord Halloween way before it was fashionable.

How long had Buzz worked for the paper? As long as Janus knew about, that was for sure. And all that time, Buzz talked about sinister conspiracies concerning county supervisors or the police and when Laurence had transferred him to the business beat, Buzz had relentlessly pursued some bank in Waterford, claiming there was some check kiting scheme.

Holden and Buzz had never gotten along. Rebecca tolerated Buzz’s eccentricities because he produced good copy. He showed up at odd hours, but he did consistently deliver good stories for the paper.

Janus glanced at the house. For a second, he felt a twinge of anxiety, but he brushed it away. The killings, the telepathic twins back at the office and Laurence’s general attitude of panic had put Janus on edge.

He walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. It sounded deep through the house and Janus jumped a little.

Jesus, he thought, I’m way too skittish.  He rang the bell again and listened to it echo through the house. But he did not hear anything else.

Maybe Buzz blew town, like he had figured. Buzz had told Laurence he was staying indoors, but that could have been a lie. It was possible Buzz was out shopping, getting supplies. But honestly, Janus thought Buzz seemed like the kind of guy that had supplies stockpiled in the basement. He would be prepared for this.

Of course, Buzz could be ignoring the door. That made sense, since Buzz might believe the killer would actually show up and ring the doorbell.

Or Janus thought Buzz could be in some kind of danger. Maybe he was hurt, or…

He didn’t let himself complete the last line of thought.

I should get out of here, a voice in his head said. The neighborhood was oddly quiet and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Everyone was either gone or had locked themselves in. Four days to go before Halloween and people would not come out if they could help it.

So why am I here? Buzz was either gone or dead. Either way, Janus could not help. He turned on the doorstep and prepared to walk away.

And then a crash came from inside the house.

Janus stood at the doorway for a minute.

“Buzz?” he yelled from outside the door. “Are you fucking in there, mate?”

There was silence. Janus wet his lips with his tongue. Reluctantly, he tried the front door. It was locked. Janus sighed in relief.

“Buzz? You there?” he called again.

He took a step backward. Well, there was nothing he could do, he thought. He should get in the car and get the hell out of dodge.

But he knew he should check the back of the house as well. He should be sure that Buzz was not just lying somewhere, bleeding, maybe getting his guts ripped out even now…

Janus worked to get the image out of his head.

He looked around. There was no one in sight. I have to be sure, he thought. Besides, it’s a bright sunny day out. He should not be this spooked.

Moving carefully, he looked through the front windows and saw nothing. With a longing glance back at his car, Janus disappeared around the side, stopping for a second to look in the garage window. He saw only Buzz’s brown BMW.

Janus continued around the house and stopped on the back patio. There were a few rust-covered chairs there, but the yard looked overgrown.

Janus’ heart stopped when he saw the back door, however.

It was wide open.

Shit, he thought.

“Buzz?” he called moving cautiously to the door. “Look, are you in pain? Do you need help? It’s me, Janus.”

But there was no answer. Janus could see clearly into the kitchen and there was no one there. He should go, he realized. The thought of Buzz in there hurt, or tied up, kept him from running away.

Janus walked through the doorway tentatively. He tried to look around corners. But he could not see anything.

“Buzz, are you in here?” he asked again. “Listen, man, don’t blow my head off because you think I’m someone else. I’m just trying to make sure you are alright.”

He took another step forward into the house. He saw nothing.

This, Janus decided, was rapidly becoming the dumbest move he had ever made. He reached for his cell phone and realized he had left it in the car.

Here he was, with a murderer on the loose, walking around in a deserted house. He was like one of those idiots in a horror movie. That thought stopped him from moving forward.

If Buzz was in trouble, the police could help him.

“Buzz, I’m coming in, okay?”

But Janus wasn’t going to. Instead he backed slowly up, preparing to turn and run if he had to. Fuck this, he thought. He wouldn’t do anybody any good if he got picked off so easily.

He walked back out the door and then turned and ran around the house to his car. He had left Buzz’s back door open, but the police could deal with that.

Janus dug into his pocket for his keys and pulled them out. He kept looking behind him waiting for something to come out of the house.

But nothing did. 

He flipped the key on his ring and practically jumped inside the car, keeping his eyes very carefully on the house. He turned on the car, shoved it into drive and tore out of the cul-de-sac.

It was only as he looked back at the house in the rearview mirror that he saw it. There in his rearview mirror was a single yellow piece of paper—a post-it note stuck right on the glass. Still driving forward, Janus read it as a feeling of dread washed over him.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Janus,” it said.

*****

Kate pulled up outside the building and Quinn rushed outside.

(
Gas it
.) Quinn thought as he jumped into the car.

Kate tore through the streets of Leesburg and they both hoped the police had better things to do than watch for speeders.

(
It’s Buzz
.) Quinn thought, as the car turned on to Route 7 toward Ashburn, where the business editor lived.

(
He was at the hotel
) Kate thought. (
But that doesn’t mean he’s Lord Halloween
.)

(
It means there is a damn good shot he is. And Janus was heading right towards him
.)

(
PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME
)

The voice in their heads jarred them both and nearly caused Kate to drive off the road.

(
What was that?)
Quinn thought.

(
That was Janus
.)

In her mind, she could see him. He was being moved from his car and he was in incredible pain. There was blood. She had to fight to keep her own car on the road.

(
He’s dying
.)

*****

Janus turned around while driving and looked at the back seat, bracing himself for a blow. But there was nobody there.

“Fuck,” he said, and faced the road again as he continued driving. His heart was pounding in his chest. He immediately reached around for his cell phone.

But it was not there.

“Fuck me,” he said again.

The bastard had taken it. Janus could not remember locking his car, he had been so concerned about what was going on in the house.

He pulled the note off his mirror and slammed on the accelerator again. He would head straight for the police station. If someone was going to jump out at him from his trunk or somewhere, let it be there.

He looked in the rearview mirror and felt his heart skip a beat.

A car was behind him. And not just anyone’s. It was Buzz’s beat-up BMW and it was gaining on him. The sun reflected off the car’s windshield, so Janus could not make out who was behind the wheel, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be someone who wanted to stop and chat.

“Fuck you, then,” Janus said and sped up. He flew through a stop sign and turned right abruptly, narrowly missing a parked car on the street.

The key is to stay calm and get to the police station. There was no way whoever was behind him would think of going there. He hoped.

He rounded another corner and noticed that while the car behind him was gaining, it did not seem to be trying to overtake him. For the life of him, Janus could not figure out why.

Janus tried honking his horn—though he did not see other cars on the road. Everyone was hiding from the guy that was behind him. But maybe someone would hear the noise and call the police. No sense stopping at any of the houses on the way. There was no guarantee they would be home, and even if they were, no guarantee they would let him in or not be killed as well.

Without even attempting to brake, he swung out onto Reservoir Road and started to pray. He had gas, he thought, looking at the meter.

The key was to stay ahead of him and to stay calm.

But the BMW had gained on him and was now very close. If he braked at all, the car would ram into him. Janus floored it. If a cop pulled him over for speeding, that would be a good thing.

He had just six miles to Route 7. There were bound to be other cars on Rt. 7—someone who could help him.

With new fear, he saw the curve ahead. Since he came to this county, he had hated this curve. It was the kind where you had to slow down a lot or risk flying into the ditch. Janus had covered at least four accidents here and none of them were pretty.

But if he had to slow down, so did his pursuer, right?

He reluctantly pressed the brake.

Nothing happened.

“Fuck a duck,” he said. He hit the brake again. The car didn’t slow. He felt no resistance and instead saw the curve coming up at a rapid 60 miles an hour.

Behind him he noticed that the BMW had dropped back.

And then Janus knew what had happened. The killer had cut his brake lines. In his mind, he saw the image of a man underneath his car cutting his brake line as Janus stood on Buzz’s back patio.

Janus pumped the pedals and watched the speedometer crawl down. It was 45 miles an hour now on a curve recommended at 15. He would just have to hope he was slow enough.

He braced himself and tried to take the turn as best he could. At first, he thought he might make it. But his Jeep leaned heavily to the right and then he could feel it tipping.

At least I’ll probably die in the crash, he thought.

The Jeep ran off the road, hit the ditch and flipped on its side.

Janus came to moments afterward. He was hanging in his seatbelt, the windshield shattered and he thought he could taste blood on his tongue.