Reid opened the office door for me. I shrugged out of my coat as I walked across the room. I draped the coat on the back of a chair in passing, my gaze locked on the bookshelves behind Reid’s desk. It was obvious someone had been here.
But the dead giveaway was Finnian’s scent—faint and stale, but I recognized it all the same.
The bookshelves were messy and disorganized, and Reid’s desk drawers had clearly been rifled through as well. It appeared as though maybe Finnian had made an attempt to cover his tracks, or maybe he had intentions to do so, but he didn’t follow through.
Reid brushed past me from behind, he went to the bookcase on the far right, and he reached up to a shelf that even he had to stretch for. I was surprised when he pulled down six books—but they weren’t books. It wa
