Ignoring the gnawing anxiety in her gut, Luna returned to her desk. Alistair’s dismissal echoed in her ears. He hadn't just brushed her off; he’d stonewalled her, his eyes unreadable. Such deliberate obfuscation. That wasn’t the reaction of an oblivious man. Typing furiously, she opened a new private browser window. Her official network was too risky now. She needed to look beyond the Amulet of Lyra. Something larger felt at play. Remembering her earlier hunch, she started by researching Alistair Thorne’s company, Thorne Developments. Public records were a good starting point. Years of operations, dozens of high-profile acquisitions and renovations of historical properties. A glittering portfolio of turning dilapidated heritage sites into luxury complexes. She focused on the older projects first, scrolling through archived news articles, property listings, and even old auction house catalogs. Specifically, she searched for any mention of significant artworks associated with these properties. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Hours melted away. The office grew silent around her as colleagues departed, leaving her alone in the hum of servers and the glow of her dual monitors. Soon, a faint thread began to appear. One article from five years ago detailed the acquisition of the historic Beaumont Mansion. It mentioned the mansion's famed 'Sunstone Tapestry' – a unique medieval textile – being 'lost to time' shortly before the sale. Another report, three years prior, covered the redevelopment of the old Sterling Museum. The 'Sterling Chalice,' a renowned silver artifact, had reportedly gone missing from their collection months before Thorne Developments finalized the purchase. Coincidence? Perhaps. But two was enough to prickle her skin. Compiling a list, Luna cross-referenced each 'lost' or 'acquired' artwork with the timeline of Thorne Developments’ projects. The pattern grew sharper with each entry. Over and over, valuable artifacts associated with a property would vanish or be quietly sold off just before Thorne Developments stepped in. Was Alistair using their renovations as a cover? Was this a systematic operation? Her heart hammered. This wasn't just about the Amulet anymore. This was a deep, dark rabbit hole. Leaning back, she rubbed her tired eyes. The screen glared, filled with dates, names, and property details. She needed more. She needed the human element. Who were the former owners of these properties? Who held these 'lost' artworks before their disappearance? Switching tactics, Luna delved into the financial histories of the families or institutions involved. This information was harder to find, buried in old corporate filings, probate records, and local news archives that hinted at financial woes. Old newspaper clippings spoke of bankruptcy filings, mounting debts, and desperate attempts to stave off foreclosure. One family, the Prestons, owners of the Beaumont Mansion, had faced massive medical bills and a collapsing family business before selling their ancestral home. Another, the Sterling Museum, had been on the brink of insolvency for years, struggling to maintain its aging infrastructure and dwindling endowments. Each name she researched painted a clearer picture. Families in distress. Institutions on the verge of collapse. All with highly valuable, often unique, pieces of art or historical artifacts. Then, the 'loss' or 'acquisition' of said piece. Then, Thorne Developments acquiring the associated property. It was a brutal, efficient cycle. A cold dread settled in her stomach. Her own situation, her family's crushing debt, the desperate need for money… It wasn't just a similar situation. It was exactly the kind of vulnerability Alistair’s alleged scheme exploited. The Lyra Amulet. Her family. Her desperation. It fit the pattern perfectly. He hadn't just bought the Amulet; he had acquired it from a family teetering on the edge, a family he knew would be desperate enough to sell, or perhaps, desperate enough to not ask too many questions. Her hands trembled. Alistair hadn't been dismissive because she was paranoid. He’d been dismissive because she was getting too close. She looked at her father’s photo on her desk, his kind, weary smile. He had trusted her to protect their legacy. Instead, she had walked them right into a predator's trap. Luna’s jaw tightened. She wouldn't let him get away with it. Not now. Not ever.

Chapter 18: Tracing a Faint Pattern