The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(96)

“I’m officially not a suspect anymore. I just thought I’d let you know. I know a guy who says face-to-face is best for important conversations.”

Matteo smirks. He studies me for a moment, then sighs and opens the door wide, allowing me into his house. “In that case, let me welcome you into my home, normal civilian.”

His shoes sit by the door, and I take care to place my bright-purple kitten heels right next to his neat brown shoes. The living room is dark, save for the glow from a TV—he does have one!—tucked away on the far wall. I note the scene paused on the TV, and I laugh. “The Princess Bride?”

Matteo shrugs. “Kyle recommended it.”

“I bet he did.” This time Matteo returns my grin with a small one of his own, and the world seems a lot friendlier.

He shuffles his feet in the carpet. “So how does it feel to be ‘not a person of interest’?” It’s a simple question, but it carries weight.

I lift my hands out to the side and shrug. “Glad it’s over. So lovely, I guess. But I’m a little sad it’s over. I feel like I was the superhero. I got to be the Golden Arrow, or the Hooded Falcon. I did a little vigilante justice, brought a double agent to her knees.” I need to get to my point, though. “But, um, I kinda hurt someone I like in the process, and I want to apologize.”

Matteo’s eyes flick to the ground then back up to mine. “Apologies are quite the work of art, so I hear.”

Great, he isn’t going to let me off easy. I give a dramatic sigh, run my hands through my hair—I’ve returned it to my natural white blonde for the hearings—and square my shoulders to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the journal. Or Lawrence.” I tick them off on my fingers. “Or Officer James. Or call you when I found the drug money in the warehouse. Sorry about breaking into a warehouse too. Probably a bad call.”

He raises his eyebrows and rolls his hand forward to indicate that I should continue.

I squint one eye. “I’m also sorry I set up a sting without your knowledge or permission and that I attempted to catch a dangerous criminal on my own, making this case messy and a logistical nightmare.” I had to sit through hearing after hearing while it was sorted through. I know I made this a tough one for Matteo to wrap up neatly.

He still doesn’t look appeased. “And?”

I rack my brain. “And . . . Matteo, I think that’s everything. I swear.”

He sighs and crosses his arms. He’s standing with his feet shoulder width apart, and even in his pajamas, I recognize Detective Kildaire. “Michael-Grace Martin, you need to apologize for putting yourself in an inordinate amount of danger. I couldn’t protect you from the bad guys. Hell, I couldn’t even protect you from you because I was in the goddamn bloody dark.” Color rises to his cheeks, and he swipes his hand over his face.

I’d like to sink into the carpet. “I know.”

Detective Kildaire isn’t done. “You’re my partner. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, be honest with each other, even when it’s hard. That’s what partners do.”

I feel like my heart is coming out of my chest like in the old cartoons. He said “you are,” not “were.”

“I was a crappy partner.”

“Damn right you were.”

“But it’s because of the dirty cop, Matteo. I was afraid Lawrence would end up dead or I would end up in jail. I didn’t know who to trust, and I was worried about you too, getting in trouble because of me. I just thought it best to keep my own counsel.”

“You couldn’t trust me to keep you safe? You thought I was the dirty cop?” His stance hasn’t changed, but I hear the hurt in his voice. Ah, this is the crux of it. He thinks I didn’t trust him.

My voice comes out small, but I’m being honest. “I suspected you for about thirty seconds, and then it was obvious that you’re the least crooked cop that ever existed. I tried to protect you. I was wrong not to trust you. I’m sorry. I’ll be a better partner in the future, I promise, if you’ll still have me?”

I hold my breath, terrified for having put myself out there for rejection that openly. He could stomp all over my heart now if he wants.

“You didn’t just catch one double agent.”

I blink. “What?”

“Two of them, as I recall from the hearing.” There’s a note of pride in his voice now.

“Yes, two of them.” I lean forward. “So does this mean I’m forgiven?”

Matteo studies me, then rolls his eyes to the ceiling and mutters what looks like a prayer for patience. “I guess so. And I never suspected. I just showed that text to the team without thinking. Does this make us both crazy?” He reaches forward and hauls me to his chest. I breathe in the smell of toothpaste and revel in the static cling of his pajama pants against my jeans.

I speak into his chest, anxious to discuss the case, since I haven’t been able to for two long months. “It’s crazy to me that Agent Sosa would take over her father’s business like that. The drugs, the lies, the false reports, tossing out cases, deflecting suspicion.” I sat in on only two hearings with Munez and Sosa present, but now that I’m cleared of all my charges, I’d get to sit in on more. I’m now a witness for the prosecution, though the lawyers are thinking this case could take years to sort through in court.