Elemental Thief

Chapter 16

"You sold it?" Archer's hands balled into fists. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Ridley pushed herself away from the desk and stood a little straighter. "The money went to a little girl who needed cancer treatment and to an elderly couple about to end up on the street because they can barely afford their rent. You should be happy."

"I'm not happy!" Archer yelled. "I mean, I'm glad a little girl will get treatment and an elderly couple won't be homeless, but you could have stolen something else to fund your illegal donations, Ridley. Anything else."

Ridley stared at him, finally seeing past his anger to the desperation in his eyes. She began to realize that perhaps this really was about more than the fact that she'd stolen something from the all-powerful Davenport family. "It's that important?"

"You have no idea."

"And you won't tell me why?"

"No. I ... I can't. All I can say is that it will affect many people—many innocent people—if I don't get it back before it ends up in the wrong hands."

"And you really expect me to believe that you, partying playboy Archer Davenport, care about these innocent people?"

"Yes, of course. I—" He pushed his shoulders back and pressed his lips into a tight line before saying, "I'm not the same person who left the city over a year ago. I've changed."

Ridley started laughing, partly at Archer and partly at herself for almost being taken in by his act. "Oh, come on. Are you kidding me? I might have believed you if you hadn't pulled out that tired old cliché. You haven't changed a bit, Archer. You came back to the city and let someone else take the fall for murder without batting an eyelid. You're exactly the same as you were before."

"That was—" He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. "Out of my control," he finished quietly.

"Sure it was."

"You're a criminal," he countered. "Does that mean you don't care about other people?'

"Of course I care about—"

"Exactly. So think whatever you want about me, but I'm not so terrible a person that I'll let loads of people die if I can stop it."

"Die?" Ridley eyed him doubtfully. "And this is all because an ancient gold artifact might end up in the wrong hands?"

"Yes."

Ridley sighed. "Well, crap."

"What?"

"It might be too late then."

Archer stepped closer, fixing his intense gaze on her. "Why?"

"Because ..." She swallowed but refused to look away. "It wasn't by chance that I stole that particular artifact. Someone asked for it."

"Someone asked for it?"

"Someone was offering a lot," she rushed on, "so I wasn't about to turn down the job. I didn't realize that thing was so important. I thought it was just an ancient piece of art from hundreds of years ago that some other collector really wanted. But maybe ... maybe the buyer knew about whatever makes this figurine so important."

"Yes, Ridley, if someone specifically asked for it, then of course they know why it's important." He moved closer—far too close for comfort—and said, "You're going to get it back. You might not know who bought it, but there must be some kind of trail. Information you can follow."

Refusing to be intimidated, she raised her hands to Archer's chest and pushed him away. "Yes, I can probably find out from my dealer. But if the figurine is already in the wrong hands, then—"