The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(52)

Matteo gives me one quick searching glance and rushes to the window. Rideout puffs into the room seconds later, his eyes darting between Matteo and me.

“Jesus, what happened in here?” Rideout asks. “You yelled loud enough to alert the entire county to the fact we’re here, and what the hell did you do to this office?”

I cut a look around the room, noting for the first time that it’s been carefully ransacked. There’s no other way to describe it. Everything has been pulled off the walls and arranged in orderly piles against the baseboards. The desk drawers are sitting out.

I blink up at Rideout, then look at Matteo. “I—he—Matteo, tell me you saw that. Saw him jump out that window.”

Matteo returns from the window and crouches in front of me. “There’s no one out there, MG.”

“Interesting.” Rideout regards me as if I’m Poison Ivy herself. His words echo in my head. I’m watching you.

In response to his silent accusation, I spit out a retort: “This room didn’t do this to itself. And definitely not in thirty seconds.” I want to yank out my hair. How did Matteo not see the Golden Arrow?

“No. Probably not.” Matteo and Detective Rideout share a loaded glance, and my blood pressure increases. It’s obvious they’re having a conversation without talking.

“Well, aren’t you going to go look for who jumped out that window?” I’m practically yelling again, and I don’t care. Rideout has obviously gotten to Matteo with his stupid theory. Only it doesn’t hold water because I just saw the Golden Arrow, and it wasn’t in a mirror.

Matteo considers me for a moment. “I’ll go look around outside, okay?” He shoots a look at Rideout. “We could be dealing with a possible B and E.” Matteo makes a move to leave but pauses just short of the door, turning back to look at me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just startled having come face-to-face with the person we’ve been chasing.”

After a brief pause, he nods before disappearing down the hall.

I stand in silence.

Rideout leans his shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms, watching me. “I have to hand it to you: this was complicated to organize. You had no way of knowing you’d have time alone in the study. What were you looking for?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Getting us to bring you here but sneaking in to search by yourself first. Or give your accomplice time to get away. Pretty brilliant. What were you looking for? Evidence that would name you as the Golden Arrow? And then pretend like you saw someone? Bravo.” He mocks me with a slow clap.

What. A. Dick. I throw my hands in the air. “I didn’t do this. Do you really think I could have taken everything off the walls in thirty seconds? That’s crazy, and you know it.”

We wait in silence for Matteo to reappear, though I have a sneaking suspicion I know what he’s going to say.

Matteo’s face says it all before he opens his mouth. “Nothing. No cars left the gated driveway.” He pauses, then continues, “The security cameras were experiencing some technical difficulties, and nothing from the last twenty minutes recorded.”

Rideout grunts. “Heck of a coincidence.”

“Yeah.”

We’re all silent for a moment. At least Rideout can’t think I still did this, right? I bite my lip. I’ve had time to glance around the room while Matteo’s been gone. There’s order to the chaos; the room isn’t just torn apart. The knickknacks that sit in neat lines are intact, no books pulled off the shelves. Mostly it’s just the paintings yanked off the hooks, exposing the walls. The Golden Arrow was systematic.

“I think I know what he was looking for,” I say to the room.

Matteo pulls on a pair of latex gloves and sets about taking pictures with his phone.

“Interesting that you know. But fine, elucidate,” Rideout answers, raising my ire. Even Matteo makes an annoyed grunt.

I decide to just ignore him. “You know the issue we looked at? How they discovered clues to the identity of the double agent in the wall safe? I think the Golden Arrow is looking for the journals. Or something else that Casey Senior would have kept to identify the double agent or the White Rabbit. I think he was looking for a wall safe.”

A chill chases down my spine, and I feel the house whisper an assurance to me. It’s a great story line. One any comic book would be proud to own. One I’d be proud to write, and if there’s anything I think I understand about Casey Senior at this point, it’s that he loved a good story. Even if it’s his own story. “What if this is what it’s all about? Identifying the double agent? Or the White Rabbit? What if the Golden Arrow has figured out Casey Senior was murdered and that his killer is still at large?”

Rideout gives a full belly laugh. “This is ludicrous. Kildaire, you can’t possibly buy it. This guy died of a heart attack thirty years ago. Old news. We work narcotics. You and I know that big eighties bust put all the big dealers in jail. White Rabbit guy included, if he ever existed. These rings are all brand-new, and no drug dealer runs a ring for thirty years unless you live in Argentina or Mexico. We are chasing a thirty-year-old wild goose, and we’re losing the trail of the real drug guys by following this girl’s false trail.”

“What if we find a wall safe?” I ask. “What if the journals are in there?”