The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(35)
“As I was saying, there’s no harm in checking which ships were in port the night of all the busts. See if there’s a connection. Agent Sosa, just test the sample, and let us know if there are any anomalies that would point to this not being Mexican cartel for whatever reason.”
Rideout could double for Cyclops, his laser gaze nearly slicing Matteo in half.
Agent Sosa looks likewise displeased to have her authority questioned in such a manner. “Fine. Whatever. I’m telling you to leave it alone. You’re wasting your time.”
Leave it alone? Her acidic tone gives the distinct impression that I’ve made an enemy, or two if I count how Rideout’s lip curls up right now. Yet something pools in the depths of my stomach, buoying my spirits. Matteo heeded my thoughts. He stood up for me to his partner. He thought what I’d said was worth following up on.
Something in me says I’m on the right track here, even if in their professional opinion I’m off my rocker. If this lines up and we are literally chasing rabbits, then we are also looking for the crooked cop. My head moves as if on a swivel to take in first Rideout, then the group of police working over the crate of drugs. How easy would it be to fiddle with the crime scene? There are so many cops, it would be hard to pin it down . . . but the note from the Golden Arrow was leaked by a member of Matteo’s team. So Rideout; that younger officer I met, Officer James; or Matteo. Or any one of the other fifty cops here involved in the case. I’m not even sure how widely known the note’s contents are.
My eyes narrow as I recognize Officer James among those bagging evidence. He slips one of the baggies into his coat pocket, and my hackles rise. It could be coincidence, or it could be tampering. I open my mouth, about to ask Matteo to watch James, when I see Agent Sosa approach James. They exchange words, his hand fishes back into his pocket and produces the tagged evidence, and they both bend their heads over it. Sosa nods and puts the bag into her own pocket. No drama. No other cops shouting or pointing. No sirens, and no Golden Arrow swooping down to say, “Aha! I’ve got you now!”
I thank my lucky stars I haven’t blabbed to Matteo yet. Apparently I’m seeing the comic book everywhere. Poor Officer James. How would he like to know that I suspected him as a dirty cop just because he is the low man on the totem pole?
Agent Sosa moves off to meet with the other teams inspecting crates while Matteo takes me to the area where the men were locked up. It’s a large utility closet housing mechanical equipment—nothing tying that to the books.
“Do you have pictures of how you found the men? Were they tied with rope again?” My brain jumps to the pile of rope under Kyle and Simon’s desk. I’m looking for anything that will point me in a direction. Any direction. Why draw a rabbit? Is it really the White Rabbit, or is it in reference to the drugs? It may just be more lunacy, but I feel like I know the Golden Arrow. Like he or she leaves these clues for me, and I’m not smart enough to decipher them.
“They were handcuffed with zip ties and chained to a large welded pipe,” Matteo answers, pressing his phone’s camera on and showing me pictures of the scene this morning. I flip through, looking for anything that catches my eye. I feel useless here; I add questions instead of giving the cops any direction at all. In fair imitation of my work presentations, my one thought about the source of the drugs has been shot down, and it seemed simple: our vigilante wanted to alert us to drugs in this warehouse. Maybe end of story. No need to look further.
“Wait. Wait. Scroll back. This one here. Do you have any other pictures of him?” My stomach lurches as I catch sight of something on one of the guys’ hoodies. It’s slightly obscured by another person chained to the pipe, but I see enough of the white to think it may be a rabbit.
Matteo frowns and flicks through the pictures on his phone. “This is a little better, but not great.”
It’s enough. My eye for lines helps where Matteo’s eyes fail. It is the exact same rabbit we saw outside. “This guy has the same rabbit on his hoodie.”
Matteo shoves his face closer to the screen to verify my claims. “So what would this mean?”
“I don’t know yet.” I bite my lip, thinking.
“Well, we took everyone in for questioning. I’ll find out who he is. Maybe he’s the leader and our suspect marked him. Or maybe he’s a graffiti artist who spray-painted the same image from his hoodie onto the building.”
Again my gut tells me it’s more than coincidence, though I don’t know what it means . . . yet. I’ll get there. I feel like I’m this close to getting it. Getting what the Golden Arrow is playing at. And my writer’s sixth sense says the story isn’t done; there’s another act coming. We just have to figure it out before someone gets killed.
Daylight mingles with twilight by the time Matteo walks me back to my car.
“No matter what my partner says, we have lots to check in to. You saw stuff that we would have missed. This is getting serious. If the cartels suspect that this dude landed their whole stash of pure heroin at the PD, it won’t go without retaliation. We need to do some digging to see if your coworkers have costumes. Anything that would suggest research on drugs in LA. Rope, gold paint, stuff like that, and the party is the perfect opportunity. Do you want me to pick you up? That way we can discuss the case on our way there. Make it look more like we’re seeing each other if we arrive together.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and scuffs his shoes. Honest to God shuffles his feet. I feel an answering blush stain my own cheeks.