Lore and I sit in the silent parked car for a solid six minutes and forty three seconds. I’ve been counting because I swear Lore has never been this quiet for this long. I’m beginning to wonder if this is a health concern. Little time spent together has already informed me that this isn’t the norm.

After Suspect Seven left, we came straight to the car where Lore now sits in the driver’s seat. His hands rest on the wheel like he’s relaxed, but the chill in the air says otherwise.

“It’s getting late,” I finally speak but do not earn his attention. His gaze remains locked outside. “We’ve done more than enough today. Let’s head back to the precinct and inform Jaryl of what we’ve learned. It’d be better to leave the club to him, seeing as it may not be connected to Ayden at all.”

Lore faces me with an apathetic expression that’s honestly impressive. From his reaction earlier, I expected unbridled rage. An actor shows only what they want to show and Lore has been an exceptional actor ever since I arrived.

“He told us there are plenty of ways to get blight. The kind he had didn’t even match up to Ayden’s. We will look for the killer and some officers can keep their eyes on the club,” I continue. None of which Lore seems to be alright with. Something tells me, if it were up to him, he’d set fire to the club right here and now.

If I weren’t here, would he actually go through with it?

“You’re clearly upset,” I add, to which he raises a brow, continuing to successfully act alright. “And I’m sure you don’t want to miss having dinner with the kids.”

That eases the tension in his hands, enough for him to flex his fingers and likely return the feeling to them. He sighs, then starts the car while grumbling, “Fine. After we tell Officer Jaryl what we discovered, we’ll head back.”

Oddly enough, a silent car ride is far worse than a talkative one. Dare I say it, quiet Lore feels like a crime against nature. Tack that onto his horrid driving skills and this is an experience I’ll never forget, in a very bad way.

“If none of the clients from Confident Cases lead us to the killer, that could mean Ayden’s death has nothing to do with the blight discovered at his place. He just had it. Perhaps an estranged family member with a grudge to pay?” I ask, more like whimper from the very sudden turning of the car that almost gives me whiplash. My stomach doesn’t feel all that great either.

“Maybe,” he replies, but gives nothing more.

I don’t bother trying to talk again either. He has made it clear he doesn’t want to. Besides, I’m likely the last person he wants to converse with. A paladin of the church who has actively hunted down his kind. To him, I may be worse than those at the brothels seeking exotic entertainment. Brothels like that reside all over the kingdom, all over the world actually. They’re a sort of “unspoken tale.” Nearly everyone knows about them, but doesn’t want to bring up the harsh and cruel truth. Both sides rather lie even to themselves than admit what they truly desire.

We arrive at the precinct where I fill Jaryl in on what we learned. Lore’s mostly silent in his seat, only chiming in when I mention watching the club.

“It’s likely the workers aren’t there of their own volition. Should there be any reason for officers to enter, inform them to be careful and treat the sex workers with care,” Lore states in a way that informs everyone this isn’t up for debate. Not that I imagine Jaryl would have any argument.

“The club may have nothing to do with Mr. Marshalls’ death, but it could clue us in on this up and coming trade of blight and whether it has any ties to the Red Moon group. We have to treat this with the utmost care,” I add to which Jaryl nods.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace. We’ll handle this,” he says, then grabs a few papers that were sitting on his desk. Lore retrieves them, holding them out for me to view too. “While you were gone, we did some digging into Ayden’s back records. We heard from a family member that he opened a second bank account at the one they worked for. He kept depositing large sums of money that he could not have received from working as a secretary.”

“His place didn’t exactly scream that he had this kind of cash either,” I remark, glancing over the records while recalling the interior of Ayden’s place. He had everything he needed and barely anything more. “And it looks like he was withdrawing money regularly.”

“Yes, withdrawing and sending it to a woman up north. I made a call to the precinct in her district to bring her in for questioning. They haven’t gotten a hold of her yet. We may not hear from them until later tonight or even tomorrow.”

“Are there any files on this woman? Do we know who she is?” I inquire.

“No, but we have her name; Sulli Harolds. There’s no mention of her in anything Ayden owns and we asked family members, but they never heard of her.”

“Considering she’s a woman he is sending money to, it could be child support,” Lore says while returning the records to Jaryl.

Jaryl nods. “That’s what we were thinking, but if it is, we have no proof yet.”

“Regardless, that extra cash proves Ayden was more likely dealing blight than using it,” I add.

“Hopefully we’ll get more answers soon. I’ll give you a call as soon as I hear back about Sulli Harolds, Your Grace.”

Nodding, Lore stands. Jaryl does the same, bowing his head as Lore leaves without a word. I swiftly follow him while searching the precinct for our red-haired companion, even if I’m quite alright with spending less time around him.

“Where’s Draven?” I ask when we reach the car.

Lore throws open the driver’s door. “Out. He’ll return to the manor when he’s finished.”

We slip into the car together where Lore revs the engine. Before he can slam his foot on the gas, I shout, “Wait!”

He stares at me wide-eyed, his foot hovering above the pedal and leg slightly shaking from the weird angle. I grins sheepishly and say, “I’d like to make a stop first.”

“If it’s at a church--”

“No, uh, it’s actually somewhere that I’d like your advice on.”

Lore’s confusion amplifies ten fold. He searches the vehicle like he expects that to answer his unasked questions.

“What sort of snacks or toys do you think the children would like?” I ask, dreading the question immediately. Lore stares for a long moment, then howls with laughter. His eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he laughs like that. I shrivel up in place, leaning away from him when he looks my way.

“And why do you want to stop at a toy store? Do you need a teddy to hold through the cold nights? If that’s the case…” He leans in, deep blue eyes ensnaring my own. Every word brushes against my cheeks. “I volunteer for the position.”

I swallow back the agreement that nearly slipped out and shove his face away.

“What’s wrong with your hearing? It’s obviously not for me. It’s for the children, as an apology for scaring them,” I explain.

Lore does me a favor by going back to his designated side of the car, although even that is too close for comfort. My mind wanders, noting Lore’s joyous laughter that made me want to join in, made me want to hear it again.

“Is this your attempt to make the children like you? Bribe them with snacks and gifts?” Lore chuckles more and rests a hand over his heart as if to ease the pain. “Silly Seren, what could you give them that I, a Lord, cannot?”

That… is an excellent question, but it’s not the point!

“I’m not trying to win them over from you. Like I said, it’s an apology, so are you going to help or not?” I cross my arms and glare at him, wishing he’d speak sooner. I can’t stand being under his scrutiny for extended periods of time. The way he looks at me is… unsettling.

“Fine.” Lore steps on the gas. I grip the car door for my life. “I’ll be kind and assist you in this trying endeavor.”

“The only trying endeavor is surviving your piss poor driving skills!”

“Like you could do any better.”

“Let’s change seats and find out!”

Lore laughs and pushes on the gas harder.