The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(75)



“I’m here with my husband and father. Purely pleasure tonight, I’m afraid.” The corners of her lips go up in an approximation of a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and her tone makes it clear she doesn’t qualify our dancing as “business.” I can’t picture her coming from a family of comic book nerds, but you never know about people. I try not to let my judgment show.

Matteo gives a cough. “Glad you’re here anyhow. MG—er, Ms. Martin has made some really impressive headway on the case this week. A possible connection from the time the original Hooded Falcon was written. I can catch you up on Monday if you’d like.”

“Yes, I suppose I can make the time.” Wow, she’s cranky that Matteo is here. Her eyes flick to me. “I’m surprised you’re still working on the case. Detective Rideout seemed to think there was a—ah, what words did he use?—conflict of interest? Don’t let me get in the way of your . . . investigation, if that’s what you’re calling this.”

Well, that just throws a bucket of ice on the only fun I’ve had all night. Agent Sosa moves off toward the front of the room, and Matteo and I follow suit, the fun gone from the brief moment of letting go. My heart sinks. I’ve obviously lost the respect of Agent Sosa by acting so unprofessionally and made her think less of Matteo as well. We don’t talk about it. We just grab new drinks and snag a table near the front of the room to watch the speeches. A few friends from other departments stop by, and I introduce Matteo, but he’s distracted.

Not five minutes later, the lights dim off and on, and the general din of the room drops as people move to the cocktail tables. Casey Junior appears on the stage, dressed in a stunning black tuxedo.

“MG, your roommate Ryan, how did he know I’m a cop?”

I turn to him, surprised. “The speeches are about to begin.” I do not want to discuss Ryan’s illegal activities.

“I’m serious.” He has that look on his face like he’s piecing together a puzzle, and I don’t like it.

“Why? What are you thinking?”

“Well, he would have access to your stuff and Lawrence’s, right?”

I frown. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And he’d know the cops working on the case if he were . . . involved in the vigilante field of employ.”

Nausea threatens. “Matteo, no. That’s not it at all. Ryan’s a hacker. Please don’t tell him I told you. I don’t want both of my best friends in trouble with the law.”

“But you said he’s smart and good with computers.” Matteo is on a roll now, an aha moment written all over his face. “Able to disable a security system maybe? And he obviously loves the comics.” He holds up a finger. “And didn’t you tell me that he’s got costumes, capes, and tights, the whole lot?”

“So does every nerd in this place. You saw Kyle’s closet. And don’t you think I’d know it if my own roommate were parading around this city in tights and a cape? Well, other than tonight, I mean. Everyone is in tights tonight.” I’m indignant on behalf of Ryan, but I’m also a little rattled. Matteo’s words sink in, and my mind runs a mile a minute. Ryan is all of those things. Matteo has a point.

“You’re forgetting what your profiler said, though,” I say slowly, my mind rewinding to the words Rideout threw at me on the stairs. “They think you’re chasing a woman. Well educated. Ties to the comics industry. Ryan is a guy, high-school dropout, and works in video games.”

Matteo doesn’t look convinced, so I rack my brain further.

“I mean, you can ask him about it yourself, but I’m pretty sure Lawrence and Ryan were at a gaming competition for at least one of the Golden Arrow crimes.”

“They could be working together.” Matteo leans in now, his voice hushed but passionate. I recognize the fervor I feel when something clicks for me in my stories; only this time Matteo is off his mark.

“Neither of them fits the profile. Plus, Lawrence was at the drag show the night of the explosion, remember? And . . .” I struggle to recall Ryan’s schedule. I snap my fingers. “Lawrence mentioned that Ryan was missing the show because he had a date.”

“That could just be a cover-up.” Matteo sounds victorious now.

“No. Not made up. She’s right over there, and she’ll tell you herself. I saw them going out to lunch again this week. They’re a real couple.” I motion over to Lelani, and beside me Matteo goes still. His shoulders slump slightly. He’s gone from victorious to . . . defeated? Wow, my argument must have been excellent. I’ve won this round, thank Thor.

The room hushes. I catch a flash of dark hair near the front of the stage and crane my neck to catch sight of Agent Sosa standing just off the front of the stage, drink in hand and sour face still in evidence. Standing beside her and schmoozing with several of the Genius executives is someone I recognize as one of LA’s government officials . . . city manager maybe? I don’t pay attention to politics when I can help it, but his face and name do seem familiar. Which puts to rest my curiosity about her coming from a comic book–loving family.

Casey Junior is checking the mic on the podium, and I turn to watch, glad we’ve settled the Ryan issue. Casey Junior leans forward and addresses the crowd, “Welcome, and thank you all for sharing this night with me. I wish my father was here to see how many came to celebrate.” Usually I’d roll my eyes at this, assuming he’s tugging at emotions to gain customers, but now I know he’s serious. Suddenly I’m like the Grinch who grew a heart. I hardly recognize myself these days. Casey Junior gives a short account of how his father started the comic and how he’s proud to carry on the family legacy. No mention of the controversy. No mention of his father’s possible murder or crooked cops. I’m distracted and miss Casey Junior introducing the next speaker, but suddenly the crowd around me claps as Junior walks offstage and an older gentleman takes his place at the podium, his steps measured and careful. He uses the podium for balance, his wrinkled hands less than steady, even gripping the sides.

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