Chapter Nine


    Ambrose entered the room to find it small. There was a single small table with an oil lamp on its surface. The only chair was pulled out slightly. On the table in front of the chair were three old leather-bound folders, and next to them was a note card. Ambrose sat down, picked up the card, and scanned it.


    Determine who is guilty of stealing the Dush Shard, an artifact that allows the user to control shadows. Bring the folder with the guilty party to the bartender. Good luck.


    After reading the card, the door closed shut with a bang, and a blue light flashed downward over the door knob. Ambrose sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Something told him that he wouldn’t be able to leave until he had made a choice.


    He opened the folder to find a dossier on Serai Graystone, divided into four categories: background, alibi, motive, and other details. There was no scratch paper, pencil, or pen to write with, so he would have to do this purely by memory.


    Serai’s background wasn’t complicated. She was a scholar specializing in ancient System relics. She was highly respected in her field and had written several books, one on the dusk shard. The collector who owned the artifact hired her to study and appraise it.


    Ambrose leaned back. Why bother? Just use a high-tier analysis or insight. He sighed. It didn’t matter; he just had to find the guilty party. Whether or not the scenario made perfect sense was irrelevant. Her alibi stated that Serai said she was conducting research at the library during the theft.


    No one could confirm this since she was working alone in the private section, which had been late.


    Her motive was that she would benefit from direct personal access to the artifact. It could make her career and cement her as an expert. Other details included her emotional state and the fact that she had no criminal record of any sort. She had lived her whole life obeying the law and staying out of trouble.


    Ambrose nearly dismissed her as an option right away.


    “She wouldn’t risk it,” he muttered to himself.


    Being caught in a crime like this would completely unravel her career, what she had worked for her entire life. It was simply not worth it for her.


    Then there was her emotional state. It detailed that she was frustrated and feeling stagnant. She longed for academic discovery but had no sense of guilt or moral compromise. She was invested in her work, but nothing there would suggest she would break the law or steal anything to obtain that, especially since, if caught, she wouldn’t ever be able to achieve her goals.


    Despite all of that, Ambrose wasn’t ready to dismiss her. Common sense told him to consider all suspects and not hone in on just one, no matter how innocent. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Ambrose set Serai’s folder to the side. The following contained information on one Torrin Vance. His background was as a mercenary, and he had a reputation for taking high-risk, high-reward jobs. The artifact’s owner employed him to guard the shard during its transportation and at the locations where it stopped to be shown.


    Ambrose noticed his infiltration skills. As if it were the sugar on top, Torrin had been accused of having had black market dealings in the past. Torrin’s alibi was that he was guarding the vault at the time of the theft. However, he was found outside the vault, unconscious. He claims he was struck from behind.


    He stroked his beard, narrowing his eye and with Torrin’s experience, being struck from behind felt like a weak excuse. His motive was clear: he could sell the artifact on the black market and make a solid profit.


    Not only that, he had the skills to steal it and arrange a convincing set-up. The other details section for Torrin painted a damning picture. He had been suspected of turning on clients before, though there hadn’t ever been proof. His emotions, however, were noted as panicked and fearful.


    Ambrose would associate those emotions with an innocent person. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, then set the folder aside. The final dossier contained information on Ellis Morwood. He was a wealthy rival collector who had made numerous bids on the Dusk Shard in the past. He always lost.


    He had been present during the artifact’s unveiling before it was stolen. His alibi was that he was meeting with a business associate in his office when it was stolen. His motive was that he wanted the shard and had the resources to hire people to get it.


    He had no criminal record to speak of, but Ambrose honed in on his emotional state. The document noted him as cold and calculating. Here was a man who likely had no compunctions about stealing, likely worse than that.


    Ambrose crossed his arms, bowing his head to think. He felt reasonably confident in dismissing Serai as a suspect altogether. There was just too much risk involved for her. Maybe she could do it if she thought it was a sure thing or someone pressured her, but Ambrose was positive she wouldn’t steal it on her own initiative.


    “It’s Torrin or Ellis,” Ambrose mused to himself.


    Torrin seemed like the obvious choice. He had the means, the opportunity, and the motive.


    Ambrose grunted because Ellis had all of that, too. It almost felt like a gamble, picking the right one.


    “The emotions of these people are key here.”


    Had these been real people in front of him, Ambrose could have used [Retributions Gaze], and that would have been that. Test over. Luckily, the emotions filled in crucial pieces he needed. Torrin felt panic and fear, and yes, you could make a case that it was the panic and fear of someone afraid to get caught, but Ambrose didn’t think that was the case here.


    First of all, Ellis had the stronger motive. He had repeatedly tried to get the artifact, failing every time. He was cold and calculated. It would be nothing for him to arrange this. A man like that would have no problem bribing someone to pad his alibi.


    Ambrose tapped his nose with a smile. He had a way of sniffing these people out. It had been his job for many years to find deception, to see through the lies. Ellis, more than anything else, felt right. It was as if the other folders were grayscale, with Ellis’s bright yellow folder.


    Torrin was the red herring. It was meant to throw him off—a big target to catch your attention. Ambrose might have fallen for it had he been in a hurry to choose. He picked up Eliss’s folder, standing up and moving to the door.


    It unsealed in a flash of blue, allowing him to stride out of it and back to the bar.


    He placed the folder in front of the white-haired man, who looked down at it. Ambrose tapped it,


    “Here’s your guilty party.”


    The man picked up the folder, studying Ambrose a moment later.


    Then he held out his hand,


    “Welcome to the Bounty Hunters Guild. Folks call me Strider.”