Page 44 of Vargan

I dismount slowly, hands raised to show I'm not a threat. Yet.

"I'm looking for Savvy Greene," I say, keeping my voice level with effort. "She here?"

The detectives exchange glances. One steps forward—older, graying at the temples, with the hard eyes of a man not easily fazed. "And you are?"

"Vargan Thronshade," I answer, watching understanding dawn in his eyes.

"Really," he says, a grim smile crossing his face. "You've led us on quite a chase, Mr. Thronshade."

"I'll go with you without a fight," I say, cutting to the chase. "But first, I need to see Savvy. And I need you to look into Victor Hargrove's business practices here in Shadow Ridge, including the kidnapping and coercion of Savannah Greene."

The detective's eyebrows rise. "Kidnapping? Coercion?"

"He forced her to sign over her property under duress," I explain, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Ask anyone in town—Silas Johnson, Helen Weathers, Willie Greene. They'll tell you how Victor's been pressuring people to sell, how he set me up to get her out of the way."

Another detective approaches, handcuffs ready. "This sounds like a desperate attempt to avoid extradition, Mr. Thronshade."

"Check his property records," Ash interjects smoothly. "See how many businesses and homes he's acquired in the last three years. Talk to the people he's forced out."

The first detective studies us thoughtfully. "We're here for a murder suspect, not a land fraud investigation."

"Then consider this a bonus," Crow says with smirk. "Two cases for the price of one."

Before the detective can respond, the mansion's front door opens. Victor emerges, followed by Royce and—my heart lurches—Savvy. She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, but unharmed. Her gaze finds mine, shock and dismay crossing her features.

"What are you doing here?" she calls, starting toward me, only to be held back by Royce's hand on her arm. I growl low in my throat, taking a step forward before Ash's restraining hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Detectives," Victor says, approaching with an ingratiating smile. "I see you've found your suspect. Excellent work."

"These orcs were just sharing some interesting allegations about you, Mr. Hargrove," the lead detective says mildly. "Something about coercion and fraudulent property acquisitions."

Victor's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes go cold. "Absurd. Ms. Greene sold her properties to me willingly. Isn't that right, Savannah?"

All eyes turn to Savvy. I can see the conflict in her face, the fear. If she admits the truth, the deal that bought my freedom is void. If she lies, Victor wins.

"Savvy," I say quietly. "The truth. Please."

Her eyes meet mine, and in them I see everything—fear, resignation, and beneath it all, a spark of the fierce woman with the fighting spirit of an orc warrior.

"Victor knew Vargan was wanted in New York," she says clearly, her voice growing stronger with each word. "He told me he'd already contacted the authorities but would call them off if I signed over my property. He deliberately withheld information from law enforcement to extort me." She turns directly to the lead detective. "He obstructed justice and blackmailed me with it—used your investigation as leverage to take everything my family has built."

The detective's expression sharpens, his professional interest clearly piqued. "Ms. Greene, are you saying Mr. Hargrove admitted to knowing Mr. Thronshade's fugitive status and deliberately concealed it to pressure you into a business transaction?"

"Yes," Savvy nods firmly. "He bragged about it. Said he could make the charges disappear with a single phone call to Sheriff Dawson if I gave him what he wanted."

Victor's expression darkens.

Royce steps out from the doorway, his face red and nose flaring. "That's a lie. She's saying whatever he tells her to."

"Is that so?" The detective turns to Royce. "And you are?"

"Royce Carvello," he answers sullenly. "Victor's nephew. And that orc attacked me yesterday. I want him charged with assault too."

"After you threatened a fifteen-year-old boy," I point out, barely containing my rage. "After you cornered Savvy in her own diner."

The detectives look between us, clearly trying to sort truth from lies. The lead detective sighs, turning to his colleagues. "Johnson, Fletcher, take Mr. Thronshade into custody. Phillips, start interviewing witnesses. Let's get statements from everyone involved."

Two detectives approach me, one with handcuffs. I offer my wrists without resistance, as promised. As they ziptie them, I keep my eyes on Savvy, who watches with anguish in her eyes.

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