Fiona surveyed the damage–one smashed pane of glass, where Kali had been, but the more worrying sign was the abandoned barrels of alchemical substances hastily left in the alley next to the shop. The town guard were already there, examining everything, and were taking statements from Kali. A medic was giving him a once-over, though Bonnie had fixed the worst of the damage–just bruises and cuts.
“Not exactly how I planned my first day, Kali groaned. “You seem to be a magnet for attention, Miss Swiftheart.”
“Tell me who they are, and they’re gonna get my hammer stuck up their–” Fiona started to say but growled when she saw Greg’s dissuading hand wave. “No Greg, no one beats up my employees!”
“Fiona, you are a one-woman wrecking crew, when it comes to dealing with threats to life and limb. But this requires a more deft hand,” he cautioned.
The white-furred, blue-eyed female wolven from the town investigatory services also put up a hand of restraint, her light armor and uniform conveying her status. “Miss Swiftheart, I must caution against unilateral action. I understand your concern. This is normally a well-patrolled and low-crime area. But, such things are not impossible.”
“No, there’s enough pyramine concentrate to burn half the block to the ground,” Bonnie growled as she pointed to the barrel now carefully sealed in packaging and tape, with investigatory markings stamped on. “That’s not just ‘smash and grab', that’s attempted arson. These barrels need to have neutralizer agents mixed in to make sure they're safe for transport."
“I see that you know your stuff, Miss Revere. Where were you during this?” the officer asked and pulled out an arcanist pad, and started jotting in quick, but legible writing.
“Dinner. We’d just been out and about for a couple of hours after the shop closed up, over at Gallie’s. Greg made reservations,” she added, and Greg nodded firmly. “Kali, when were you here?”
“Like, eight? I didn’t note the exact time,” Kali admitted. “Two guys were in the alley. I had to move some stuff to storage. I just started today, and had the key to the backroom of the shop. But not the key to the main floor.”
“It’s true, we’re working on access control,” Bonnie affirmed. “Did you get a good look at them?”
“Nah, I didn’t get a good look. I can tell you there was a brown furred Lynxkin and a salamander,” he shrugged. “They were tall, though. The salamander had green skin, yellow spots, and orange eyes, I think? Can’t be too many in town. The lynx guy, I dunno. They wanted me to open the lock when they saw me. When I got here, they’d been trying to pick the lock.” He pointed to the damaged lock. “I should have just run, but I was like if these guys break in on my first day? I’m losing my job, for sure.”
“Kali, this is not–” Fiona sighed. “Look, if there is ever real danger, your job is to protect your life, and the customers, and not the merchandise. That will never be an issue. Greg, make sure you’re–”
“Already on it.” Even with him taking notes, she could see his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. Greg rarely got upset, and when he did, he was quite subtle about it. “Kali, was there anything else distinct about these two?”
“Dark clothes. Nondescript. No one I’ve met before,” he answered, and the town guard took notes. “Sorry, didn’t catch your name, mister–”
“Detective Pierre,” the wolven female answered, as she continued jotting notes. “Miss Swiftheart, can you think of anyone who would want to wish harm upon your establishment, or your employees?”
“I could think of a few,” she replied with a growl, and more than unsubtly looked at the spires of the palace in the distance, but said nothing out loud to that effect. “Look, when I was in town between stints slaying monsters, I did some clean-up work with the town investigatory services—clearing out a sewer of some nasty monsters. What a nasty job, I would never do it for gold again,” she stated as she tried to not remember that rancid smell. “We found a small smuggling passage, probably for the local gangs in the commerce sector. It was well hidden. They went and busted half a dozen guys for contraband, later. And I was the most visible face, so, maybe?”
“I find that a stretch, Miss Swiftheart. Why the business, and not your residence?” Pierre asked, ears perked up. “You only just opened this shop earlier in the week–to some small accolades, I heard.”
“Because they know that if they ever hurt Granny, my landlord, I’d smash half the town apart to find them, and I would find them,” she declared with her teeth on edge. “I mean, I also beat up a dragon lord. He could have sent people to do this, because he’s jelly as all hell that I took his contraband and am selling it to people who could use it. Sadly, when we checked it, we couldn’t find the owners. So far."
“I can vouch for that,” Greg stated, as he continued to scribble. “Can you think of any recent uptick in criminal activity?”
“No. They've kept their heads down while Fiefdala was dealing with the dragon lord–they didn’t want the ire of the town watch,” Pierre shrugged. “Alright, I’ve got your information, and you said you had reservations at–”
“Gallie’s,” Greg answered. “We just opened up a shop, we were making money. We would not do this to ourselves, if you are insinuating–”
“Mister Lockheed, I do need all the facts. Pretend I know nothing,” Pierre assured him. “Business fraud is one crime there’s been an uptick on, though. Price gouging, for instance, with the efforts against the dragon lord making some items a little scarce.”
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“I understand, but Miss Swiftheart is–”
“The damsel of the hour, yes, I understand. You did a lot of good here and out in the field,” the detective interrupted, even as she closed his notepad, and gave a small nod to her. “My cousin says you saved his life in the Fen Fields, before he almost got run through by some kobolds. I have you to thank for that.”
“Hey, I knew that guy! The newbie…it was…um…Trask!” she snapped her fingers, and felt immediately relieved. Pierre nodded more enthusiastically. “Kid needs more training, no offense, he could use a few more months in the adventurer’s guild before he goes back out there to fight monsters–or cute plushie lizard guys. Seriously, those guys gave Graybeard a hard time?”
“They fight viciously, but flee when their leaders are otherwise incapacitated,” Pierre answered dryly. “At any rate, I believe I have the information I need, along with the description from Mister Kali Nostrom. Are you aware he’s a juvenile?”
“Apprenticing in my shop,” Fiona answered hastily. Greg also nodded in unison.
“We have him under a provisional position. I believe he shows some talent for the endeavor. I also reached out to the orphanage he is currently housed at,” he added stiffly. Greg did think of everything–she’d be hosed if she had to remember all these eight million legal steps on her own. “Rest assured, we’re still filling out paperwork.”
“Aye. Paperwork. I’m buried by it half the time,” Pierre sighed, and smoothed her silky mane. “Well at any rate the damage is minimal. We can have someone from the crafter’s guild come out to fix it in the morning.”
“Warding it up,” Bonnie interjected as she adjusted the brim of her hat, and was already sealing up the broken pane with her magic in a light aura of shimmering hexagons. A bead of sweat dripped off her fur, and she gritted her teeth as she used her wand to seal the opening with the temporary barrier. “That’ll hold for a few days. Kind of pissed about this one, this is not how I wanted my day to end.”
“Bonnie, the shops’ safe. So isn’t Kali,” Fiona assured her, and Bonnie glanced at her, her eyes deeply cowled. But, that grim look did soften a bit. “Look, we’ll review this over the weekend. Hopefully, this is a one-off.”
“Boy, you sure do keep it interesting, Fi,” Bonnie said with a bit of fatigue edged in her voice. “Greg, I think I’m tapped out. Wanna head back my way? It’s on the way to the apartment.”
“Actually, we should probably head back to Miss Swiftheart’s apartment,” Greg proposed, and also nodded to Kali. “just for safety's sake.”
Fiona didn’t know why, but she was trusting him on this one. She glanced down at her wrist, and then at him. It was a weird feeling–both light, and heavy, when she looked at him. It was the first time she’d gotten this kind of ‘signal’ from him, but she had no idea what it meant. But, she had the feeling she was going to find out.
“Lights are out at nine, I’m gonna get busted,” Kali sighed. Greg put an assuring hand on his shoulder and guided him up.
“No, I’ll put in a word. Detective Pierre, are we set here?”
“You’re not under investigation, this has the appearance of either a break-in, or someone with a grudge. We’ll tighten up patrols in the area. In the meantime, if you can think of anyone who would want to do this to you guys, or you have any evidence, give my relay a call,” she added as she tapped her device to the small, quaint relay that Greg kept in his vest pocket.
“Alright, let’s get going, then. Kali, we’ll drop you off on the way back to Fiona’s apartment,” Greg straightened up, and glanced at the shop, with the arcane lights lit up inside.
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After they dropped off Kali, the group headed to Fiona’s apartment, and the soft sound of a violin could be heard in Granny’s apartment, along with her husband singing softly. It had been a rather quiet walk back, until they got here.
She smiled at that sound–they were the definition of a loving couple, enriched by song and culture, from what she’d gathered. She unlocked the door and had to keep Tucker from turning Greg into his personal scratching post–though, the cat did try to sit on his shoulders and lick his hair, once he sat down on the couch.
“Do I need grooming, cat? My hair is fine,” Greg growled at Tucker, who looked at him in amusement with a flicker of blue eyes, then proceeded to lick his hair one last time. Greg made a disgusted sound, and the cat proceeded to slink down and sit on his lap, purring gently. “Oh, fine. Just don’t tenderize me, Tucker.”
“Aw, he loves you, Greg,” Fiona said with affection. “Now, you’ve been acting a bit off lately, so, why don’t you tell me what’s up.”
“Me, off?” he echoed. But, she could see that look downward, that he did have something he wanted to say. “Well, you could be more right than you know.”
“Oh, boy. Greg, I get it, the shop could have gotten torched. We’re lucky Kali was there. I wonder if he’s the one that gave them the–” She stopped when Greg quickly snapped his hand up, to try to wave off the awful suggestion.
“They were not there for Kali, nor did he have anything to do with it.” The sound of the silence was quite deafening, even for her sensitive ears, and even Bonnie perked up.
“How do you know that?” Bonnie asked, and leaned in out of curiosity. Greg rolled back his sleeve–which was something he didn’t normally do, and he glanced down at his wrist.
“Because I have this feeling that they might have been there to send a message to me.” He had this reserved, sullen look on his face, the way he clenched his jaw tightly, and his eyes narrowed. “I am bringing this up now, because I believe it pertinent to know all the facts, and before we jump to conclusions about Kali.”
“Greg, what are you trying to say? Is this the part where you say you weren’t a paper-pushing accountant, or running surveys on ancient civilizations this whole time?” Fiona asked. “Because, we won’t judge you. Your business acumen is just as good, if not better than mine sometimes. And you have been forthright about your reservations about some of my more unconventional decisions.”
“I wish it were that easy. No, I walked away from a problem not of my choosing. And that problem didn’t like that,” he sighed, and she could see a mark starting to form on his wrist. It looked almost like…a clenched iron fist, with a scrunched scroll of paper in its hands. The ironclad glove was bloodied.
“My problem stems from my family, Fiona. I didn’t create it for myself. But I most certainly didn’t solve it in a way that kept it from coming back eventually.” He showed the mark to Bonnie, whose eyes widened at this. Fiona knew that showing someone their mark, was a sign of big trust and that this moment shouldn’t be seen as anything less than that. “I waited too long to pick a class, on the insistence of my father, who is a rather… well-known character in the kingdom. But not well loved.”
“Who is he?” Fiona asked. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”
“Fiona,” Bonnie sighed, and looked right at her, “I think I know what he’s talking about. The Lockheeds are a family of ill repute. I just didn’t think you were related to the Lockheeds,” she added, even as she took Greg’s hand in her own. “Is this what I think it is?”
Greg nodded, and let out an exhale of resignation. “My destined class was to be an enforcer for the Lockheed family. My family is one with deep connections to the criminal element of the kingdom.”