Shelby - Mandy Harbin Page 0,66

involvement a secret, then they had their reasons. If he let Parker tell Shelby and her team that he knew the truth, what then? She’d just get to walk away, knowing her behavior had been acceptable.

Hell no. If anybody was going to tell Shelby he knew the truth, it was going to be him.

“No.” He forced a chuckle. “God, I’m losing my mind. She’d submitted a request for filings we made in Russia, and freaked the fuck out.” He took a deep breath. “It’s fine, man. But when this shit is over, I want an all-expense paid trip to a remote island somewhere. I need that vacation like yesterday.”

Parker chuckled. “Good luck getting the government to pay for that. You’ll get a clap on the back for a job well done when William is exposed.”

Mason laughed with him, though he felt little emotion inside. He did it to play along and get off the phone without causing any more damage. As soon as he was able, he’d be calling Shelby.

He had a little lesson to teach in double-crossing.

Chapter Seventeen

After showering and getting dressed for work, Shelby couldn’t stall any longer. She’d cried in the shower until the water had turned cold, and no amount of makeup would conceal her puffy eyes even though she’d given it her best effort.

She drove to headquarters in a daze. Her mind replayed the events at Mason’s apartment over and over, and no matter how she viewed everything, the various angles she attempted, the outcome was still the same. Mason was involved in criminal activity, and she was in love with him. Her breath hitched, and she swallowed down another sob. If she dwelled on this too much, she’d start crying again, and she couldn’t afford that right now. She’d sent Rick a text informing him she had an update, and he wanted to see her immediately. He was already gathering the rest of the team, and they’d be there waiting on her.

The office was bustling around like usual. Cyber crime division was cracking down on fraud and identity theft. Terrorism worked both domestic and international threats. Organized and violent crimes had been major areas for the FBI for decades, focal points that many agents worked, regardless of specialty. Then there were counterintelligence and white-collar crimes…cases Shelby typically was assigned. It was business as usual here. Everywhere she looked, her colleagues were diligently working. Dedicated.

Unemotional.

She’d been that way once. Until she’d been assigned to work the Fieldstein and Baxter case. Her first major field assignment. The massage parlor bust hadn’t required this level of involvement. She’d spent more time preparing than being on location, and she hadn’t been working it alone. It hadn’t been like this. If all of her major assignments were going to be like this, she wasn’t sure how she’d find that disconnect again.

The conference room door was closed as she came to it, and she had a fleeting thought of just going, leaving, pretending her life wasn’t where it was. She knew that wasn’t possible, but the idea gave her the strength to push through and face her teammates.

“…We’ll have to see about that. Oh hey, Landry,” Rick said, waving her in. “We were just talking about pulling the finances at Showalter’s club again and comparing them to any fluctuations in his personal accounts. Darrell seems to think if he’s stealing from F and B, then maybe there’s a trail with his club.”

“I don’t think he’d use his club to filter money,” Viola said. “He’s not the only owner. He’d have to get his partners in on the scheme if he’s using the club. I don’t see that happening. Four control freaks letting one man run the show? No way.”

Shelby sat down and listened quietly, biding her time.

“It happens every day in the corporate world,” Darrell said. “I still say we yank it all. The club’s accounts and their personal financial records.”

“I agree with Lane,” Carson said, shaking his head. “Scene is a privately held company. They’re not subjected to the same disclosure laws. Even if we did find something questionable, a half-ass lawyer could have it explained away. It’s a waste of time.”

“It’s not a waste of time if we’re doing our jobs by investigating every angle,” Darrell growled.

Rick lifted his hand. “Enough. Let’s hear the latest from Landry, and then we can get back to deciding if we should delve deeper into the club.” He turned to Shelby and asked, “Whatcha got?” before taking a sip of coffee. The