Salas didn’t need my input anyway. He was quite happy doing a solo rant.

“You’ve sucked in Sean,” he said. “I know he gave you a trust fund. He’s a decent guy and you took advantage of that. But you can’t pull that shit on Bryce. He’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for. Someday he’s going to be the CEO, and I’m going along with him, which is why I’m not about to let any witch skank spoil his chances.”

I motioned that I wanted to talk. He ignored me.

“So now what am I going to do with you? I know what I’d like to do—dump your body in the Pacific. But if anyone found out, Bryce would get blamed. So I’m thinking—”

“Frankie?” It was Bryce’s voice. “How long does it take you to grab clean clothes?”

Salas kicked the door shut. “Just getting changed.”

“And you’re afraid I’ll peek? Just hurry up, okay?”

Salas leaned closer. “You wait here. I need to get rid of Bryce.”

I nodded. Sadly, Salas didn’t seem inclined to just let me sit on the bed. He grabbed handcuffs from his drawer. I’d seen them there earlier. I suspected they weren’t for work.

He didn’t seem to have a lot of practice using them, though, at least not on women who were struggling. As he fumbled, his grip on my gag relaxed enough for me to bite him. He yelped and I yanked free.

“Frankie?” Bryce said.

Salas came at me. I backed out of his way.

“Listen,” I whispered. “I don’t want Bryce to find me here either, but you’re not putting me in those cuffs. Leave now and I’ll hide, and we can pretend this never happened.”

“You got a girl in there?” Bryce called. “I don’t have a problem with you stopping home for a booty call, but I don’t appreciate being lied to.” A pause. “Frankie?”

Salas and I faced off, then he charged. I ducked out of his way, but he knocked my shoulder and I hit the dresser with a bang.

“Okay, that’s it,” Bryce said. “Just because I don’t treat you like an employee doesn’t mean you can act like I’m a loser friend who doesn’t even deserve a response.” The door flew open before Salas could grab it. “You show me some respect or—”

Bryce stopped short. “Savannah?”

“It’s not what it looks like, boss,” Salas said.

“And what does it look like?”

“That, you know, she seduced me to get to you. I’d never do that.”

“I didn’t think you would. Not unless your idea of seduction involves a split lip, torn clothing, and handcuffs.” Bryce paused. “Well, it could, but I’m sure that’s not what’s happening here.”

“She broke in,” Salas said. “Planting evidence to blame us for that missing kid.”

“Um, no,” I said. “Do you see any evidence on me? Go ahead and search. I didn’t bring or leave anything.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Salas said. “I watch TV. You’ve planted hair or DNA or something only the crime scene team can find. The Cortezes took that kid, and you volunteered to frame Bryce, so you took samples from the boy.”

“Is that what you think? Fine.” I turned to Bryce. “Call Sean. He’s with Lucas. Tell him I was found here and tell them what your bodyguard thinks I was doing. That will taint any forensic evidence and exclude—”

“If Sean tells them to exclude it,” Salas said. “Maybe he’ll decide this is an easy way to take Bryce out of the running for the CEO seat.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, Frankie,” Bryce said. “But I’m not in the running for CEO. Even if I was, Sean would never do that to me.”

“But maybe—”

“No.”

“He’s right,” I said. “Sean wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t even know I’m here. That’s why I’d never plant evidence in the first place. Given the choice between believing me and believing Bryce, it’s no contest. Bryce would win.”

A look passed behind Bryce’s eyes, one that said he wasn’t so sure. Yet everyone who knew Sean knew that his little brother came first.

When he turned to me, his voice cooled. “So what was going on here, Savannah?”

I fed him the same story I’d been trying to give Salas. Lucas had heard Salas had been seen with members of the supernatural liberation group. Converting the personal bodyguard of a Cabal son would be a serious problem. So I’d broken in to investigate the allegations.

“But I didn’t find anything.”

“Of course not,” Salas said. “Because no one ever approached me.”

“Who thinks I did it?” Bryce said.

“Did what?”

He met my gaze. “You’re not chasing down leads on this group. You’re investigating Larsen’s disappearance, like Frankie said. You didn’t come to plant evidence. You came to look for it. So who thinks it’s me?”

“I bet it’s Sean,” Salas said.

Anger flared in Bryce’s blue eyes. “Would you stop that? It’s not Sean. It would never be Sean.” He turned to me. “It’s Lucas, isn’t it? What has he found?”

“Found?”

“If you’re breaking into my bodyguard’s apartment, it’s because Lucas has found something that he thinks points to me. False evidence. Planted by the real kidnapper.”

“There’s no—”

“Of course there is. Lucas wouldn’t investigate me without a reason. At least give me the chance to prepare my defense, and to find the guilty party. Whoever did this will feel the full wrath of the Nast Cabal on their heads. Bad enough if strangers steal from us. Worse if it’s one of our own.”

I hadn’t said we suspected someone inside the Cabal. No one had said that. When I looked at Bryce’s face, tight with worry, eyes fixed a half-inch to the right of mine, I saw guilt.

He did it.

No, not Bryce.

Why not Bryce? Because you don’t want it to be him?

I remembered Davis saying the job had clearly been the work of an amateur. Someone young, with a high position at the Cabal, who could get the access to pull off the job, but didn’t have the experience to do it right. Someone who might know Sean’s password with the Dahls.