Band of Demons (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Two) by Rob Blackwell Page A

replied.
    “Understood,” she said and hung up.
    She flopped back on the bed, wondering how she was going to make it through the day. They had less than two hours of sleep.
    The last part of the night before was already a blur. She remembered driving to the Hillsboro cemetery, knowing exactly where it was because he was already there.
    And then everything was fuzzy. She remembered him digging, knew that what had taken them hours in Leesburg took only minutes then.
    Then the woman had gently laid the bag of bones to rest. She had smiled, thanked them with tears in her eyes, and disappeared. Kate didn’t know what the episode meant, couldn’t understand the full ramifications. But she knew something momentous had occurred.
    She woke up Quinn, who stared at her when he saw the clock. He mumbled something very close to “No fucking way” and sank back into bed.
    “It’s a homicide, Quinn,” she said. “You’re the crime reporter. Time to get to work.”
    He rolled over.
    “Please tell me last night was some weird drug-induced dream,” he said.
    He knew it wasn’t. For one, his muscles ached, though he felt like he should have been in even more pain, given his exertions.
    “No such luck,” she said.
    She quickly brought him up to speed on what Tim had said. They showered—Quinn had gallantly offered to shower together, until Kate noted that the ensuing distraction would only delay them further—and got dressed within 20 minutes.
    On the way to the Chronicle , Kate dropped off Quinn near the bank and headed to the paper.
    Tim and Rebecca were both in the office when she arrived.
    “What do we know?” Kate asked before she sat down.
    “According to my source, the banker was under investigation by federal regulators,” Tim said. “They suspected he had been illegally funneling deposits to—get ready for this—riverboat casinos in Louisiana.”
    “And here I thought bankers were dull people,” Kate replied.
    “He was investing in them, apparently,” Tim said.
    “You seem to know an awful lot,” she said.
    “I have a good source,” he replied, and once again, Kate found herself wondering who his sources were. For a guy who had only been back in town a few months, he knew a considerable amount of private information.
    “But you need me to confirm it,” she said.
    “Exactly,” Tim replied. “That source doesn’t want to be traced.”
    “So we have a murder and a salacious story,” Kate said. “We think someone killed the banker when they found out where their money was going?”
    “Seems like a reasonable guess to me,” Tim said.
    Kate sat down at her desk, scanned through her contacts and got to work.
     
    *****
    Quinn stood at his second murder scene in two days.
    He had only been on the crime beat for less than a year, but Quinn had covered roughly a dozen deaths. Most of them had been accidental in nature. Only five had been ruled homicides.
    It would be natural to assume that two murders within two days were connected. But did the bank CEO know Madame Zora? He also listened in as Tim told Kate what was going on. It might just be a coincidence. The banker and Zora probably had nothing to do with each other.
    Police were practically swarming the area, but luckily it was too early to attract the attention of many onlookers. The body was gone, but Quinn could see where it had been. The blood stains were right in front of the door.
    He was trying to get back inside , Quinn knew.
    If it was connected to his fraud at the bank, who had known about it?
    The examiners certainly knew, but they didn’t have a motive to kill the guy. They must see bank fraud on a regular basis.
    It could be someone inside the bank, someone who stood to lose money if the institution failed.
    The only problem was the manner of murder. Quinn could believe someone would be angry enough to kill the banker, but according to the police report, he had been decapitated.
    An angry employee or private investor might have