Chapter 39

HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT

Commissioner’s Office, Los Angeles Police Department Headquarters, Los Angeles, California, United States

Gen had never been so relieved than when King Rudolf successfully changed her back into her usual form. And even better was that all her parts were how they’d been before. Letting out a sigh of relief, Gen focused her energy on the task at hand, finding incriminating evidence connecting Charlie Sloane to the various heists.

“Any idea where to look first?” Gen whispered in the darkened office, her pulse racing as she looked at the door.

Before they’d chewed through the ceiling tile, there had been voices. But that could have been from a neighboring office or the hallway. Still, she was hyper aware that they were trespassing and if anyone came in there, they’d be caught. It was very surreal to be standing in the Commissioner’s office—the place where she believed the root of evil in Los Angeles was living. But she needed proof first.

“I’ll take the computer,” Rudolf offered, sliding out the rolling chair behind the desk and taking a seat. When he sat in the leather chair, he pursed his lips with an impressed expression. “Not bad. Charlie Sloane has expensive taste.”

“Yeah, but the taxpayers probably paid for that chair,” Gen muttered.

“Most definitely,” Rudolf agreed, pointing a finger at the computer, using magic to hack into its contents. Gen had recently learned a trick or two related to that, although the king of the fae was in a much better position to do the technological reconnaissance.

Gen studied the large office, racking her brain for where to start the search. She didn’t think that Charlie Sloane would simply leave incriminating evidence lying around for anyone to find. However, Sherlock Holmes had said there was always a trail. It was simply impossible to erase all the clues related to his involvement in so many large-scale heists.

Gen tapped the side of her head, like willing it to think—to see that which was out of place in the Commissioner’s office. She tried a trick her father had taught her. William Bernard Beaufont was the smartest man Gen ever knew—even still.

He knew how to figure people out because he was a master at thinking like them. He’d told Gen, “If you want to know what someone is going to do or did, put yourself in their shoes. Yours will only take you on the path you would have chosen. But theirs will show you what you need to know.”

Although Gen didn’t know much about Charlie Sloane, she could confirm that he was obsessed with money, power and prestige. Her eyes scanned the wall next to a bookshelf. That’s when her gaze landed on a picture of Charlie Sloane standing next to a man who was wearing an expression of authority and pride. They stood, shaking hands in a very regal office.

Picking up the framed picture, Gen pointed at it. “Who is this guy?”

Rudolf paused his typing and flicked his gaze up to look at the photo. He sighed. “Just the dumb President of the United States of America.”

There’s something about the picture, Emperor said in Gen’s head.

She nodded, sensing that there was something off about it. For one, it was much heavier than she would have expected, even though it was a high-quality frame. Still, it seemed much too heavy for what it was.

What do you think it is, she asked her dragon silently in her head.

I’m getting flashes of Charlie taking the picture apart, Emperor explained. There’s some strong cosmic energy around that.

“How odd,” Gen muttered, mostly to herself.

“You’re telling me,” Rudolf said, hunched over the computer, his eyes narrowed on the glowing screen. “I wouldn’t be caught dead next to the President. Most know that he didn’t get his position through normal means. Oh, and embezzlement is his middle name.”

“Well, then I get why he and Charlie are such good friends,” Gen said, laying the picture on the surface of a table and working to take the back off it.

“Oh, speaking of fraud, looky here,” Rudolf cooed.

Gen glanced up suddenly. “What is it?”

“Offshore bank accounts,” he answered. “Those are perfect for laundering money and hiding stolen funds. Oh, and we just hit print and voila, we have the entire banking transaction for what’s no doubt shifty business.”

Gen’s gaze flickered to the large machine that fired to life, making a humming noise. Her pulse quickened and she hoped that the sound of the printer didn’t alert anyone to their presence in the office. But it was late and not many people should be on the floor.

Returning to the frame, Gen slid off the back. That’s when she found some curious correspondence. Lifting them up, she squinted in the dark, trying to make them out.

“What do you have there?” Rudolf asked, picking up the fresh printout and shutting off the computer using magic.

“It looks like handwritten letters between Charlie Sloane and some others.” Her eyes widened. “There are plans from Hamilton Dixon, the Director of Security for the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.” She filed through the papers. “And here’s something similar from Barry Fer.”

Rudolf nodded. “Of course. Charlie wouldn’t want to have an electronic trail linking him to the plans. I bet they did it using old school means. Then he kept hold of the evidence in case he ever needed to blackmail his collaborators.”

Gen nodded. “There are all sorts of plans here on the heist.”

“Take them with you,” the king of the fae encouraged, folding up the printout he’d gotten and slipping them into his jacket pocket.

Gen did as she was told and put the picture frame back together.

“Someone is coming,” Rudolf said, sliding up close to the door—listening. “Hurry.”

Gen slipped the frame back where she found it. Just then, the sound of keys jiggling echoed on the other side of the door. Both of them stiffened, fearing they’d just gotten caught.