The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(90)
Right. That whole freaking fate-of-the-world thing. Crap. No big deal, I just won my first national fashion competition, but I still have hidden journals to buy, a masked avenger and a murderer to identify, and a man to win over.
“It’s like sardines in here,” L mutters as we push our way into the packed ballroom for the auction. Edward Casey Junior is already onstage, introducing the curator for the museum, who will be retaining one of the pieces and gaining the charitable funds.
My gaze sweeps the crowded room, already too warm, or maybe that’s from my sprint over here. The first queen I spot is Shwanda, L’s drag mama, dressed as much like a security guard as L and I could costume her on short notice. She’s standing along the back wall, looking official and important, and meets my eye immediately. She motions with a nod toward one section of the room, so I pull L along with me through the crowd.
It takes a bit to get there, and by the time I locate two empty seats, Edward Casey Junior finishes his speech. I face forward and groan. He’s shaking hands and posing for a photograph with the piece he’s donating to the museum, and it’s the large print. The one with the journals in it. Donated, not for auction. I apparently misread the stupid booklet Tej had given me. Dammit.
They set the painting—nay, my carefully placed criminal trap, now rendered useless—to the side, and the auction starts in earnest.
“This is all wrong,” I say to L. I feel crushing defeat for the second time in as many hours. “That’s it. This plan will never work now. I won’t be able to see who bids on it because nobody gets to.”
Someone slides into the chair on my left, and I whip my head to the side, ready for combat. My adrenaline and nerves are just about shot. “Ryan, you scared me stupid!”
“Sorry. Has the auction started? This place is a zoo.” Ryan picks up on my nervous energy, evidenced by my fidgeting like a kindergartner on a Fruit Roll-Up high. I follow his gaze to Lelani, who’s standing near Shwanda. Lelani’s brows are pulled down, her face in a scowl. I’d be mad too if my huge dress kept me from being able to take a seat.
“No, it’s just starting. You didn’t miss anything.” Except my plan to capture one or two suspects in my case going up in flames. Suddenly suffocating in my suit coat, I peel it off and toss it across the back of my chair. It leaves me in only my white silk camisole, but in this stifling room, I’d give anything to be wearing less. Or maybe it’s nerves. Or both. I swallow noisily, panic rising in my throat.
L leans in, whispering so just I can hear, “Just sit tight. I’m sure we can get up there after the auction. We’ve got other problems. There are at least three Golden Arrows here.”
“What?” My eyes scan the room, and dread fills my limbs.
There are several people here dressed like the Golden Arrow. The social superhero has been in the media long enough that people have made costumes based on it. Not that I’m even sure the Golden Arrow will be dressed like the Golden Arrow. There are Hooded Falcons in the crowd too. Considering this is a Hooded Falcon memorabilia auction, it’s to be expected. And surely the White Rabbit won’t be wearing a costume that says, “I’m a drug lord and murderer.” I’m not sure why I thought I’d be able to pick them out.
I search for Amy Blondonis, the last queen on our private crew. I spot her by the back door, easy to pinpoint because of the copious tattoos on her person. The long half-black, half–icy blonde wig sticks straight with blunt bangs. It complements her huge fur stole and signature Cruella de Vil slinky black dress. Amy meets my eyes, and I suppress a shiver—I’m glad she’s on our side; Amy is intense.
How are we ever going to identify anyone in here? There have to be a thousand people.
I turn forward and sink in my chair. An air of electricity charges in the room, and it doesn’t have anything to do with the action figure that makes up the first lot at auction. “I guess we just wait and see,” I say to L. “Something will work out; I feel sure of it. Hold your sweet black tauntauns. All hope isn’t lost.” Or I’m wrong, and we’re both in a huge pile of crap.
A hush falls as the auctioneer steps up on the stage. Bidding starts, and I sneak looks around. No one seems particularly suspicious or familiar. Well, that I can tell anyway. One of the bidders is Groot, and I can’t see even a bit of face.
“L, maybe you’re right. With the costumes, I can’t even tell who anyone is; this whole plan is a bust . . .” I trail off and turn to look behind me. A scuffle has broken out in the back among bidders. I’m not the only one to pause. The auctioneer slows the bidding, obviously unsure if he should continue. The scuffle increases in intensity. It’s odd for a fight to break out before the auction has even really started. A chill snakes down my spine, and I get the inkling of an idea that this is no mere scuffle just seconds before the entire room plunges into darkness.
CHAPTER 26
Instantly, L pulls me to my feet. “Get to the door!” I can barely hear her over the screams of the patrons around me. I hear a strange whizzing as something flies by my head and an ooof as the item that grazes my head goes on to hit Ryan. Something sharp scrapes my face, and I feel the instant ooze of blood. Between this and the damn warehouse break-in, I am going to look like Deadpool when this is finished. I’m aware of Ryan climbing straight over the chairs in front of us, making his way to the stage. He seems pissed, which is so completely odd, I just stop and stare for a moment.