Page 43 of The Thief's Mark

“Let me guess,” Cal sighed. “Another dead-end?”

Unperturbed by Cal’s pessimism, he shrugged. “Yes and no. The company itself seems like all the others we’ve investigated so far with ties to Jumic Enterprises: little more than a shell corporation with no identifiable employees oractual headquarters within the city. However, there is one key difference.”

Cal’s gaze wandered distractedly over the colorful banners they passed beneath. “And what’s that?”

Griff gestured behind them toward the shop they’d just left. “Actual assets. They own buildings all over the Market District and rent them out to tenants. That’s the closest we’ve found to a real business so far.”

Cal perked up at that. “You mean we’re close to cracking the case?”

Griff hesitated. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a promising avenue to explore, but we’re still a long way away from apprehending a culprit or identifying a link back to the Watch. For now, we’ll focus our efforts on records specifically related to Derimay Development and see where that takes us.”

Cal groaned loud enough to attract curious looks from a few random passersby. “This wholeinvestigatingthing hasn’t been nearly as exciting as I thought. Where are the thrilling chases? The harrowing battles for our life as we fight to catch the bad guys? The logic-defying puzzles we need to solve in order to escape certain doom?”

“It sounds to me like you’ve been reading far too many Ilthabardian adventure tales.” Griff patted the pocket on his coat where he kept his trusty notebook. “Sometimes, investigations take you into dangerous situations you don’t expect. But the vast majority of the time, cracking a case is more a matter of perseverance than anything else. It’s about gathering information until you can piece together the proper picture.”

“Maybe the wayyoudo things.” Cal flashed him another easy grin. “Stick with me, Inspector, and I’ll show you a good time. After all, our very first lead together ended up with you shot. If we keep this up, who knows where we’ll end up?”

His teasing tone and smoldering gaze seemed designed to make Griff blush. Grumbling, Griff quickened his pace, Cal’s laughter pursuing him.

Even with his ability to read Cal’s aura, he couldn’t tell if the thief just enjoyed pushing his buttons…or if there was something more behind the obvious flirting. The yellow bands of amusement in his aura were easy enough for Griff to spot. But he felt certain there was more hidden within that swirling vortex of colors than he knew how to parse.

Griff had always considered himself a lone wolf, preferring to work alone. Over the past couple days since their pseudo-bank heist, however, he’d found he enjoyed Cal’s company more than he’d expected. Somehow, the younger man always managed to make him laugh or set him at ease. It made the tedious work pass much faster.

Plus, he had to admit that it was handy having someone with Cal’s skills around to help gather intel. Even without his duskflame disguises, Cal was a master at getting others to open up to him. Griff might be the one able to read auras, but Cal knew how to readpeople.

Griff frowned to himself. Even if Cal’s attempts to charm others occasionally involved some shameless flirting.

They spent the rest of the afternoon investigating other businesses from the bank records with links to Derimay Development. That eventually led them to a manufactory in the new Vantoric District. A little more digging by Cal while Griff once again played the role of distraction revealed that an entity named the Gearhall Group actually owned both the manufactoryandDerimay Development.

Thus had been the story of their entire investigation so far, the initial bank records leading them down a rabbit-hole of shell corporations and chain ownership. It was the sort of confusing web that could take weeks to unravel—weeks Griff didn’t have tospare. His seniority and newfound fame afforded him a certain amount of leeway to pursue his own cases, but he’d only be able to put off returning to his regular duties for so long.

What they needed was a lucky break.

“We made some solid progress today,” Griff said later that night after they’d returned to his apartment.

He and Cal had decided to relocate their investigation there since it was larger than Cal’s tiny safe house, and more central to the city. It had felt odd at first having someone else there. He hadn’t had to share his personal space with anyone since Amelie left Derimay.

Once again though, he’d found himself surprised by how much he didn’t mind Cal’s abrupt intrusion into his life. Even after a week, it was almost like he fit there.

Watching Cal lounge on the sofa with a plate of food, Griff chided himself for the thought. This arrangement was only temporary. Even if Griff allowed himself to ignore that Cal was the infamous Blackjack—a truth he still wasn’t entirely sure how to wrap his head around—he was still a criminal. Cal didn’t genuinely care about doing good. The only reason he was helping Griff was because of their deal. He was in this out of self-interest, nothing more.

“Eternal Dark, I hope so,” Cal said. He took a bite of his baked fish, then shook his head, gesturing with his fork. “I don’t know how you can spend your days doing this. I’d go insane from boredom long before I caught anyone.”

Cal’s melodramatic tone made Griff chuckle. “It’s not always this dull. But like I told you earlier, being an inspector is far from the glamorous profession many envision. Chasing down bad guys is more a protector’s duty. For us, it’s the riddle. I love putting the pieces together, forming a picture that fits. I live for that moment when everything finally clicks into place.”

Cal smiled at that, and Griff didn’t miss the slight softening of the usual edges in his aura that matched the softening in his expression. “I suppose that makes sense. My favorite jobs tend to be the same. It’s the challenge I enjoy more than anything.”

His smile faded as his gaze fell on a nearby side table. Sitting up, he picked up a framed picture. “Who’s this? And how did you make it? I’ve never seen a painting look so realistic.”

Griff’s stomach churned with mild unease when he saw the picture. “It’s a portrait of me and my wife, Amelie.” His stomach gave another of those little churns. Not sure why he felt the need to add it, he said, “Well, ex-wife now. Nathaniel made it for us as a wedding gift.”

He expected Cal to make one of his usual jokes or flippant remarks. But to his surprise, Cal simply nodded. “What happened between you two? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Usually, Amelie was one of the last things Griff wanted to think about. His failures as a husband only served to amplify his guilt at how things had turned out. Yet, despite the discomfort still coiling in his chest, he found himself speaking.

“I met her over fifteen years ago. We were both barely out of our teens, eager to leave our marks on Allaria. Back then, she was a fiery artificer fresh from Vantor. She’d set off with nothing but a handful of silver sestas to her name the instant Vantor lifted their travel ban.” He gestured to his folded glasses and revolver where they sat on the table. “All of my runeflame tools were made by her.”

Cal nodded appreciatively. “An inspector and an artificer seems a good match. Plenty of ways for her to aid in your cases.”