by Mandy Harbin
So, here he was, in his office at Fieldstein and Baxter, logging into the firm’s most prestigious hedge fund, and stealing money for William. If this didn’t work, he was sealing his fate. He wouldn’t have to worry about finding a new job when the shit hit the fan. He’d just have to worry about not dropping the soap. If he didn’t believe his contact would pull through for him, no way would he do this, but he knew problems could always arise. The risk was still a major one.
It was surreal how quickly it took to steal millions of dollars. A few clicks, some highly secured passwords, and the deed was done. When he’d called William to update him, his boss had given him half-hearted praise and rushed off the phone. If the prick didn’t fix the mess he’d caused, Mason would ensure it got done anyway.
At least he seriously hoped he’d be able to.
His assistant buzzed him, drawing him out of his frustrating thoughts. “Mr. Showalter?”
“Yes, Katie?”
“There’s a David Lane here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he says he knows you. Security won’t let him up since his name isn’t on your calendar.”
Mason frowned, trying to remember someone by that name. He was good with them. In this business, he had to be. It wasn’t ringing a bell, though, and he didn’t have time to catch up with some guy who thought they were old college buddies or something. “I have a meeting with Joel Fieldstein in thirteen minutes. Go down and get his number. I’ll give him a call.”
“Yes, sir. I already told Jerry to tell him you were heading out soon, but he’s insisting it’ll only take a few minutes.”
Mason rubbed his face and sat back in his chair. “Fine, send him up.” Whoever it was, he’d get rid of him. Because of the crap with William, Mason hadn’t had time to read over the agenda for his meeting with Joel.
When the man walked in, Mason stood. Ahh, Dave. The man who was at the club last night with Shelby. “Viola’s husband,” he muttered.
Dave nodded and walked toward his desk. Mason didn’t like mixing his personal and professional lives, so he’d be ending this even sooner than he’d hoped. The guy was probably here to avenge Shelby on his wife’s behalf. Whatever he had to say would be wasting precious breath. His private life might not get drawn into his professional one as a general rule, but Shelby was completely off fucking limits. Period.
“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it,” he said, obviously reading the scowl on Mason’s face. He stepped over to one of the chairs across from Mason and sat. Intrigued, Mason eased back down and stared across his desk at him.
“Mr. Showalter, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Katie said, buzzing into his office again. “Mr. Baxter would like to see before your meeting.”
“Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can.” If Mason didn’t get up to William’s office, his boss would come down here. He looked at Dave. “What do you want then? I am extremely busy, and my attention is needed elsewhere.”
Dave pulled out a manila envelope from inside his jacket. “A business deal. I have information I’d like to sell you.”
Mason laughed without humor. “You’ve come to the Major Leagues with a tee-ball. I’m sure whatever it is, I’m not interested.” He made as if to scoot back and rise. If he left now, he could be in William’s office before the man had a chance to fume that he hadn’t come running at his command. But Dave’s next words stopped him.
“It’s information on Shelby Landry.”
Mason sat up straighter, pinning the man with his stare. “What the hell are you trying to pull?”
Dave’s smile was sad. “It’s simple. I made some bets I can’t cover. My bookie will be here this weekend to collect. I tried putting him off, but he’ll break bones this time, maybe even hurt my wife. I could borrow the money from her, but even she doesn’t have this kind of cash available. If she found out about this, or what I’m offering, she’d leave me. Or worse. I can’t help that. I’m in a corner, and I don’t see any other way out.”
Mason mulled that over. His interest was piqued at the mention of Shelby, but something else struck him. Dave was desperate, and a man led by that emotion did stupid things. Whatever he had on Shelby he was willing to sell. It probably wasn’t much, but if Mason didn’t bite, someone else could.
Someone like William. Dave was here at his office. William was expecting him. If he didn’t show up soon, William would come down here and find him with Dave. So if Mason didn’t give Dave want he wanted and get him the hell out of here, the man might come face-to-face with someone willing to gain any advantage over Mason. It was a stretch to even think that could happen, but when it came to Shelby, his instinct was to protect.
To anybody else, what Dave had wouldn’t be worth as much, and if there hadn’t been a serious risk of William finding out about Shelby and whatever Dave had on her, he’d throw this man out right now. He loosened his tie, preparing himself for the quick negotiation.
“What do you have?” he asked, indicating the package Dave carried.
“Do we have a deal?”
“I don’t know what you want or if what you have is worth a fucking penny. Talk or get out. I really don’t care.” Mason waved him off, faking a nonchalance he’d perfected through years of business transactions.
Dave clutched the envelope tighter. “You’ll want this, I promise. If you don’t like what I have to show you, then don’t pay. I’ll let you judge for yourself if it’s worth it.”
He must think he had something really good on her to leave the deal open like that. “How much?”
“Forty thousand.”
Mason half-smiled. That wasn’t a small amount, but at least the guy wasn’t trying to take him for millions. This, too, felt like blackmail, though, and he was sick and tired of people swindling him today. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to work. “Fine. Show me what you have, and if I think it’s worth the price, I’ll have my assistant wire you the money.”
Dave smiled and eagerly opened the envelope. He pulled out some papers, stared at them, glanced at Mason again as if he wasn’t sure all of a sudden if he should do this. That only made Mason want to see them even more. Dave slowly offered the papers, and Mason snatched them out of his hands before the guy could change his mind.
What the…
Mason’s vision turned red, fury boiling inside of him as he looked at the photos. “What the fuck is this?” he whispered heatedly. Though he knew. There was no doubt what the photos showed.
“Those are images someone on my wife’s team took at various locations. There’s one after a massage parlor bust last year and others at some office gatherings.” He gritted his teeth. “I knew being married to an FBI agent was going to be hard, but when she went undercover as a masseur, I was ready to blow the operation just to get her off that case.” He pointed to the picture. “That one is of them all celebrating the day they nabbed the criminals and closed the case. Viola is the one wearing yellow. The one next to her is—”
“I can see who it is,” he said, cutting off the man as he continued to stare at the photograph.
Shelby. She was standing with her arm around a man who was faced away from the camera talking to somebody. She was smiling at Viola. They were all wearing gear emblazoned with FBI—hats, jackets, shirts. They were not hiding the fact they were all agents.
And Shelby was one of them. An FBI agent.
She had lied to him. Fucking played him.
“Yeah, well, I brought you the photographs so you would believe me when I told you Viola and I were at the club last night because it was part of her assignment. She didn’t give me any details, but since Shelby is involved with you, I suspect they’re investigating something you’re involved in.
Oh, this just got fucking better.
“Mr. Showalter, I am so sorry to intrude again, but Amber called and said Mr. Baxter is on his way down,” his assistant said.
“Thank you, Katie,” he said numbly. When he leveled his stare on
Dave, it took all he had not to kill the messenger. “You got your money. There’s an extra ten grand in it if you keep this to yourself. You tell no one that you came to me or that you know what Shelby does for a living. I mean no one. You’re going to walk out of here, tell my assistant how nice I am to donate to your cause, and you forget this conversation ever happened. If I find out you ratted out Shelby or your wife to anybody else, your bookie will be the least of your problems. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” the man said nervously.
“Get out.”
He picked up the phone and gave Katie her instructions. Then he grabbed his other cell phone and those photos before marching right past Katie and Dave.
“Um, Mr. Baxter is on his way,” she said, scrambling to stop his retreat.
He turned to face her. “Cancel my meetings this afternoon. Let Mr. Baxter know something has come up that needs my immediate attention. He’ll understand.”
He’d assume it had something to do with the Culpepper Fund, but it would buy Mason some time. As soon as he was out of the building and in his car, he hit the number of his own connection.
“Looks like William Baxter has already taken steps to fix the mess he made for you. See, told you you had nothing to worry about.”
Fuck William. He didn’t give a shit about him right now. He peeled out of the parking lot, no idea where he was going, but knowing he had to get away. “Find out everything you can about Shelby Landry.” An agent. A goddamn FBI agent who was working him. And to think he’d fallen in love with her. He suppressed a roar. His heart was doing it already.
After several seconds of silence, the man asked, “Why?”
“Because I fucking said so! I want to know everything, and mean every-fucking-thing. I don’t care how long it takes or if you have to stop working on William to do it. This is priority number one. I want to know all there is to know about her.”
He sighed. “I won’t have to stop working on anything to tell you about her. I already know all there is to know.”
“Just what the hell does that mean, Parker?”
“Mason, you came to us because you found illegal activity and suspected William Baxter as the cause behind it. The SEC doesn’t have the ability to conduct a full-on investigation like this, not when we realized the scope. We had to get help. She’s one of the FBI agents assisting with the investigation, but I don’t know the details of her involvement. She’s a linguistics expert. I assume she’s going over the foreign documentation to ensure it meshes with what Fieldstein and Baxter is reporting in the U.S.”
His contact had assumed wrong.
It was clear to Mason just what her assignment had been.
“Mason, why are you asking about Landry? Fuck, is William on to the investigation? Talk to me, man. If she or any of her team’s been made, I need to report it.”
He gritted his teeth as he thought quickly. Mason had his secrets. Secrets he’d kept from Shelby, but the difference was he hadn’t known his secrets had involved her. She’d been the one to break his trust, lie to him, play him for the fool. If they’d kept her real 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 man drank the stuff from morning ’till night.
She cleared her throat. “I overheard a telephone conversation between Showalter and William Baxter. He was enraged with his boss. It sounded as if Baxter was forcing Showalter’s hand in something. He said he’d found proof of wrongdoing by Baxter and if he wanted the feds involved, he would have reported him. He then told Baxter not to threaten him and that he’d take care of whatever it was Baxter wanted him to do.”
“It is William Baxter. I fucking knew it!” Carson said.
Darrell frowned
at Shelby and turned to Rick. “It could be a setup. Maybe Mason made Shelby and is trying to make Baxter look guilty.”
“He made himself look pretty damn guilty,” Shelby said. “He also confirmed getting rid of Carl O’Brian.”
“He said that?” Rick asked, squeezing his coffee cup to the point Shelby worried it’d bust.
“Yes. He told Baxter that this was the last time he was rescuing him. After this, he was done. I only heard one side of the conversation, but when he got off the phone, he was livid. He’d wanted to spend the day with me, but after that call, he said some things had come up at work.” She didn’t go into the fight they’d had. She hoped it wouldn’t matter anyway. “I think this is enough to get a warrant for more information.”
“You think he’s guilty of the Ponzi scheme?” Viola asked, brow furrowed.
“He knows something. When he bitched about his boss, he acted as if the man was inept, that he was only in his position because he was family. If that’s true, then Baxter isn’t capable of pulling off something like this. Not on his own. If Baxter is part of this…” Shelby slowly inhaled, trying to calm her racing heart. “If William Baxter is involved, then Showalter is in on it with him. Baxter has no need to steal money. He’s part of the family and grew up wealthy. His job was handed to him if Showalter is right. If I didn’t hear that conversation myself, I wouldn’t think Baxter was involved. What would his motive be? I still don’t see it.”
“We need more,” Rick said, and Shelby gaped at him.
“What do you mean? He confessed to killing O’Brian in front of a federal agent. Start there,” Shelby gritted. She could not keep seeing Mason to gain information. If she did, she couldn’t trust herself to stay objective…assuming she was still.
