Page 15 of The Thief's Mark

“Sure was,” she said.

He kept a close eye on her aura as she answered, doing his best not to let its unusually bright, swirling colors distract him. If she was lying, she was a pro at it—he didn’t catch so much as a flicker of nerves.

“And did you see or hear anything suspicious?”

“Suspicious how?”

“Anything that struck you as out of the ordinary. That stuck in your mind as peculiar.”

“Can’t say as I did,” she said.

“Please. Take a moment to really think hard about it. Even the smallest thing might be important.”

Cassandra frowned and tapped her chin, seeming to ponder the question. “Well…now that you mention it, I guess somethingdidwake me last night.”

Griff perked up at that. “When was this?”

“I’m not sure…around midnight, maybe? I’m a light sleeper, so it’s not unusual for me to wake up throughout the night. But last night, I remember being jolted awake by a loud noise.”

“Can you describe it for me?”

“I’m not sure—sort of a loud bang? Like clanging metal.”

He furrowed his brow as he considered that. That could mean a gunshot, though Vantoric firearms were still fairly rare in Derimay. More likely, she’d heard trashcans colliding. Maybe someone skulking about in an alley?

The interview continued, with him asking more follow-up questions about the noise and who she’d seen coming and going from the building last night. All the while, he kept a careful watch on her aura.

Yet there was nothing that struck him as suspicious. If she was hiding something, she was a master deceiver. He would’ve already dismissed this as another dead end if not for the tainted aura still lingering in the room and on Cassandra. That inherent contradiction drove him to keep digging. With every one of her innocent responses, however, his confusion only grew.

Just what in the Light is going on here?

When he’d exhausted every possible question he could think of, he rose, shoving down his frustration as he tucked away his notepad. Their empty teacups sat on the tray. The stale biscuits remained untouched.

“I think that about covers it,” he said, reluctant to let the lead go. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Of course, Inspector.” Cassandra rose on shaky legs. Grabbing the tray, she hobbled with it to the kitchen. “I must say, that was most thorough! I hope I gave you at least one worthwhile insight. I’d hate to think I wasted your entire afternoon on a wild goose chase.”

Though that was exactly what this felt like, he forced a smile. “Not at all, madam. This has been most illuminating. Thank you again for the tea. I’ll be in touch if I have any more questions for you.”

“Come by anytime, Inspector. It would be a pleasure to see you again.”

Griff was almost at the door when it suddenly splintered inward. His hand flew to his revolver as a group of rough-looking men and women appeared in the doorway. The woman in front looked vaguely familiar, and it took him only a moment to place from where.

One of Bald Locke’s muscle from The Last Drop.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “This is unlawful breaking and entering!”

The thugs ignored him, their leader peering about the room with narrowed eyes. “All right, where is it?” she demanded. “Where is the orb?”