Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

you're going to need a little evidence before you run it. Or even get editorial approval to stick with the chase."
    Rick sat back and put his hands behind his head, sprawling in the chair, casually accepting her rebuff. "The Independent is all over this case. Sometimes I hate being a weekly. They beat us on almost everything. Except they aren't working the Satanic angle."
    "They don't have time for the depth of coverage that we get, either."
    "The cops identified the victim."
    Julia nodded, half-listening, clicking her way through her files. "Poor guy."
    "Charles Edward Williams. Age 39. Last known address, Memphis, Tennessee."
    Julia froze over her keyboard. "Memphis?"
    "Your old stomping grounds. Is it known as a hotbed of Satanism?"
    "Well, aside from Elvis selling his soul to the devil and Richard Nixon . . . and we all know how that turned out."
    "Eternal life on a hundred thousand collector plates and black velvet paintings, but in exchange, he had to die drugged out on the porcelain altar."
    "You are so delicate, Rick."
    "Yep. Journalism hardens your heart, and that explains everything,” he said, shifting into a mocking tone. “How long did you say you've been a reporter?"
    "Very funny. Do the police have any new leads?"
    "No. They've shipped the body off to the state medical examiner's office. Should be able to tell if the guy was drugged when he died. If the Brotherhood used him as a sacrifice, they probably had to drug him pretty heavily."
    "Unless the sacrifice was voluntary. What's this 'Brotherhood' business?"
    "One of the names Satanists use for their group."
    "Boy, even Satanists are sexist. What's the world coming to?"
    Rick's face grew serious. "Are you religious?"
    "More spiritual than religious," she said, expecting Rick to ask which church she attended. She considered telling him she was a Scientologist or Moonie, something offbeat that might throw him off the scent. "I believe in a higher power. I just don't think you need an escort to get you there, and you don’t have to kiss the Pope’s ring, the Buddha’s feet, or Pat Robertson’s ass.”
    Rick nodded and smiled. "Sorry to put you on the spot. Some people get touchy about things like that."
    Julia almost asked Rick about his spiritual beliefs, but decided against it. What if he'd only taken her out to dinner to try to convert her? She liked the idea of being desirable company better than that of looking like a lost soul. Too many people lately had seemed hell-bent on saving her. "Well, for the sake of intellectual argument, I don't think Satan exists, but I'm willing to believe that other people do, and that they might perform all kinds of crazy acts in the delusion of devotion."
    "One thing's strange. There's a case a couple of years ago that never got solved. A little girl was stabbed to death. They found her body out in the woods."
    "That's sickening." Julia's heart clenched. "Any suspects?"
    "A few names were kicked around. Deacon Hartley's came up the most often."
    "Hartley? That's a common local name, isn't it?"
    "There's a few dozen of them, been here since the buffalo walked these mountains."
    "Any rumors of Satanism with that murder?"
    "No. But that's the kind of thing the police like to keep quiet. Especially when they can't solve it. Maybe my series will be called 'The New Satanism.' Catchy, huh?"
    "Better get some more evidence first. Otherwise, you'll come off as preachy. Besides, even the Baptists have pretty much given up the idea of Satan.”
    “If I were the devil, Elkwood would make a fine place to get started on that Armageddon thing. Go where people are the most complacent in their faith."
    “You’re just stirring up controversy for the sake of that journalism creed, ‘If it bleeds, it leads.’”
    "It wins press awards," Rick said. "Satanism's got everything you want in a story. Murder, drugs, bondage, orgies, and the ultimate in good versus evil."
    She thought about sharing her tidbit of the disappearing animals, but if he was going to go ahead and run his stories on nothing but rumor, theory, and a handful of spotty research, she wanted to distance herself as much as possible. If Rick would let her. "Well, good luck, but don’t take it personally if I hope your story is a dead end. I'd better get back to work. Deadline. You know."
    “Yeah.” Rick stood and adjusted his glasses. He paused at the door to her tiny office. "Mind if I call you later?"
    Whether he was a Christian soldier hell-bent on