The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(76)



The crowd rustles like a celebrity has joined us. To me, it’s just a guy in an old-fashioned captain’s uniform. Apparently, to everyone else, this guy is someone. It finally dawns that I’m seeing the celebrity police captain I’ve read about in my research, in the flesh.

“Thank you, thank you,” he says, waving down the applause. “I’m happy to be here to celebrate. I accepted the offer to speak tonight because while some people call me a real-life superhero”—he pauses again for more applause—“we all know that Edward Casey was the real superhero. He was a visionary, a man before his time. His comic inspired social change, and I can speak personally to that. But Edward Casey didn’t just write about people fighting social injustice; he was a friend to the Los Angeles Police Department. Just before his unfortunate death, he had given a statement specifically to help end crime happening in his very own neighborhood. Edward Casey Senior is one of the many reasons we were successful with the biggest drug bust in LA’s history. May we continue to honor his memory by supporting social justice, supporting our law enforcement, and encouraging those we love to wear a cape now and again.” He continues to speak, and the crowd eats it up. He’s charismatic despite his age and apparent frailty. There’s a wave of laughter, and I look at Matteo. He’s basically got stars in his eyes. This man is one of his heroes the way comic book superheroes are for me. I expect to be overtaken by the same wonder as everyone around me—this guy is as close to a real-life Superman as LA has ever had—but something prickles in the back of my head. Something that feels like the hints of a story. My Spidey sense.

The beginning of his speech has my mind wandering. The climate of the comic and the climate of LA were unbelievably similar. A drug war. A big bust. And in the comic, the reveal of a superhero who went rogue. A superhero, or a cop manipulating the drug war for his own benefit. A superhero who would benefit by having his competitors in the drug trade removed and who would kill any man who tried to unmask him.

Ice forms in the pit of my stomach. “How old is he?”

Matteo still claps, watching the older gentleman exit the stage. “What? Who?”

“Anthony Munez.”

Matteo’s brows crease in annoyance, and he answers in a hushed whisper, “I don’t know. Seventy-five? Eighty?”

That would make him forty-five when he was police chief. I drum my fingers on the table. The puzzle pieces start fitting together, even though I don’t love the picture they’re painting. I need to make sure my hunch is correct. And I need to get back in that warehouse to conduct my own search before the White Rabbit realizes how close to him I am and disappears, or worse. My safety, Matteo’s safety, and L’s safety all depend on proof.

Applause rings out. I’ve missed the rest of his speech, and now the crush of the crowd threatens to keep me from acting on the idea I just had: Lawrence had seen the dirty cop all those years ago.

“I need a picture,” I say to Matteo.

“Of?”

“Anthony Munez. Come on. Come take a picture with your idol.” I reach into my small bag and produce my iPhone.

Matteo lets me shove my way through the crowd that has formed at the bottom of the stage. Captain Munez has just reached the last step, and we’re only second, next to Agent Sosa, in his receiving line.

Matteo nods to her. “Agent Sosa. And I assume your husband?” Matteo shakes her hand first, then reaches for the hand of the gentleman next to her. “Ah, yes, it’s City Councilman Sosa, right?” They must have assembled to greet Anthony Munez like, it seems, the entire room is on its way to do.

Ah. Councilman. I knew I’d seen his face on a bus stop somewhere. I shoulder away several of the gray-hairs who have convened to pay court to Munez. He’s started down the line, first pausing for a picture near Agent Sosa and her husband.

I wait until after the flash of the camera has cleared from my eyes before lunging forward slightly, hand on Anthony Munez’s arm. “Can we get a picture too, sir? Detective Kildaire is a huge fan.”

“I hardly think that’s appropriate.” It’s the acerbic tone of Agent Sosa’s voice. Her husband’s face is a similar mask of disapproval. What are they, the propriety police? They can get pictures with the fabled police chief, but Matteo can’t?

Munez settles the stalemate with a gracious half bow. “Nonsense, nonsense. Happy to help. My public misses me, and I miss the spotlight.”

Gotta get while the getting’s good. “We’ll be quick about it!” I shove Matteo toward Anthony Munez and step back to take the picture.

“One, two, three!” My cell phone hates the low light, but I manage to get a blurry one that should work. “Detective Kildaire, this should go in your office. Thank you, sir. It was so nice to meet you.” I spin on my heels, texting Lawrence as fast as my fingers can fly over the keypad.

Meet me at Genius right now. Come alone. Operation Janeway.

Matteo grabs my arm just as I reach the line of people arriving at the coat check. “Hey, MG, stop. Hang on. Where are you going?” He drags me around to face him, perfect in his costume. How I wish I could spend the night dancing under the glittering crystal chandeliers with him. Except in this moment work is really between us more than he knows.

My hunch grows, and if I’m correct, the White Rabbit already knows or will soon know we’re on his trail. Matteo will be in the line of fire. I’ll be in the line of fire. I need to keep my next moves secret, even if just to protect him. After this is all over, I plan to kiss him silly for days.

Meghan Scott Molin's Books