“Too slowly!” Sangria stated as she flew past 669 who was panting for breath at the mad sprint he and Detective Morse were having.

“Get that man!” 669 ordered Sangria.

The three of them entered the busy main street where every inch of path was lined with merchant stalls selling something. And lots of clutter they had to jump over and weave around with their chase.

“Here!” She yawned as she cast sparkles over their bodies from her pixie wings to lift their energies and keep them going.

“Thanks Sangria.”

“Sorry!” 669 hastily apologized as he knocked over bushels of potatoes from one vendor, making people trip over them and fall awkwardly to the ground. But he didn’t look back: continuing to jump over obstacles and skillfully leaped up to roofs to continue the chase that way.

For a water seller, the man was fast. He led the chase through the windy lanes and brick houses of Border City’s east side. It was clear, the man knew his way well.

Sangria flew ahead and called upon her air magic to form a mini tornado, which she sent toward the man to knock him off balance. The man yelped with pain when he felt himself slammed into a brick wall with great force to nearly shatter his bones.

Detective Morse and 669 caught up to him.

‘You! You’re the one that’s been following us, aren’t you?!”

The man whimpered out his defense and innocent. They learned that his name was Harper Tank: a water seller.

Water straight from the ground contained parasites (at least in the Desert Barren Lands of Salem Kingdom), so it needed to be boiled and/or treated before consumption. Water companies, like Miller Waters, treated the water then used dealers to sell tanks and bottles - Water Sellers. Unlike most common occupations, water sellers could mingle with many walks of life since everyone needed water.

Harper was a short and stocky man with a scruffy brown beard and a cranky set of heavy eyebrows over narrow dark eyes. He wore a blue worker overalls and soft peak gray cap sporting a company logo. His dark skin was weathered with callouses and deep set wrinkles from being out in the elements more than he should be. But that was the nature of his job: to cart water from one place to another for his company.

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So Harper being familiar with a Sommerville wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. However…

“So, you sold water to the Sommerville's. What did Ashton do to you?”

Sangria lazily wrapped a tendril of wispy smoke around the man to bind him with a magic hold. She yawned feeling fatigue from the chase and efforts she had to make. But she was promised a tin of peppermint mochi from 777 to do the job, so begrudgingly did her part for the company.

Harper struggled in the binds but stopped when it was clear he couldn’t get out of them. He faced the three looming over him with their questions.

“People saw you arguing with Lord Ashton on the last night he was alive.” Detective Morse soberly said and observed the man’s reaction.

“Good riddance.” Harper grunted with little remorse on the fact.

“So you’re not bothered that a man is dead?”

“A man dead is a bother. A horrible lord is someone wouldn’t miss.”

“Did you kill him?”

669 stared at the seasoned detective. Like anyone would answer such a blunt question.

“Did I want to? Hell, yeah.” Harper sighed. “But I didn’t get the chance.”

After some more blunt questioning from Detective Morse, they learned of what the men had been arguing about. The Sommerville family were late on his payments for starters, but that didn’t explain enough for Harper’s direct confrontation with Lord Ashton.

“That wasn’t the only thing. The man assaulted my baby sister. So I wanted to give him a punch or two. No one would say anything about that. But I wouldn’t have been strong enough to kill him.”

Detective Morse sighed and gave Sangria a gesture to remove the binds.

“Stay in town. If you run, you’ll have the Royal Guard in pursuit. And I’ll need to speak with your sister to confirm your story.”

Harper rambled with concerns and complaints on the matter, but were stopped short by Morse’s stern glare and sight of the man’s official badge.

“Understood.” He sighed and ambled to his feet to make his way back to his water cart that was parked not far from the soap house.

As the three of them were leaving the side alley to enter the main streets near the soap house, they caught a glimpse of Bosgar having a brief exchange with Harper. The men went their separate ways.

Detective Morse gave the gesture for them to follow. As they drew inconspicuously closer they saw Bosgar had Harper a pouch. The men exchanged final pleasantries before making their own way. Morse gestured for them to trail Bosgar.