“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.
“It’s not enough. We need physical evidence. You did good, though, Landry. If William Baxter isn’t involved, he at least knows something.” He looked at Darrell. “Find out what you can on Baxter. If he’s not directly involved but knows what’s going on, maybe he’d be willing to cut a deal to save any embarrassment with his family’s business. His testimony could put Showalter away.”
“On it.” Darrell stood. “I’ll be at my desk if anything else comes up.”
After he left, Viola looked at Rick. “I don’t like it. Showalter was promoted long after the SEC started their investigation. Did he even have the means to do it before then? Seems too convenient.”
“Agreed,” Carson said.
Viola glanced at him. “That’s twice now you’ve agreed with my assessment. You’re kinda scaring me over there.”
He chuckled. “I know greatness when I see it. Besides, I never argue with a beautiful woman.”
“Annnd there you are.” Viola rolled her eyes.
“Childers, you concentrate on all correspondence in the weeks leading up to Showalter’s promotion—emails, texts, telegraphs, everything,” Rick said as he stood.
Carson grabbed his stuff and pushed up from the table. “Do they even have those anymore?” He chuckled.
Rick looked at Shelby, who was now standing with Viola beside her. “Your assignment is still ongoing. Report back with any new findings.”
“Yes, sir,” she muttered to his retreated back.
“C’mon,” Viola said. “You look like you could use a strawberry salad.”
“If by salad you mean margarita, then yes, yes, I do.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Shelby had been lured here under false pretenses. Strawberry salad hadn’t been code for something else. It was actually a salad with strawberries. She had refrained from boozing it up on their lunch hour anyway, though the temptation to indulge had definitely been great.
“Okay, spill,” Viola said around a mouthful of lettuce and berries.
“Er, there’s so much, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She could talk for hours and only be scratching the surface of her problems.
Viola stabbed her salad again. “Let’s start with your puffy eyes and piss poor concealer job.”
Shelby groaned. “I knew I should’ve forgone makeup today.” Viola looked horrified at the thought of doing such a thing, and Shelby laughed at her comical expression. “Yeah, I know. Sacrilege and all that.”
“No doubt.” Then her smile fell. “How’s your back?”
What back? The pain in her chest trumped everything else. “It’s okay, I guess.” She looked down and poked at her salad. Damn, she should’ve gotten a cheddar burger instead. With onion rings.
“Uh-huh. Now I know something is seriously wrong. You’re wearing the aftereffects of a good cry, and you had to think about your back.” She didn’t push more, just ate her salad, probably letting Shelby ease into the conversation on her own.
“I think we broke up this morning.”
Her head snapped up, and she chewed slower. “You think?”
Shelby groaned, dropping her fork. “I don’t know. He’s so closed off it’s hard to get a read on him. He seems to want me one minute and then pushes me away the next. Last night he asked me to spend the day with him. He was going to take off work because he wanted to be with me. Then this morning he says he cares about me, but he can’t do this. That I don’t know him. I agreed and said he didn’t know me either. He tried stopping me when I left, but only barely. It was a token effort, and I didn’t stick around to hear anymore.” Her laugh was nothing short of pathetic. “It’s not even real. How messed up is that?”
“Is it real for you?”
Shelby stared at her for several seconds, weighing her options. The question was really the heart of the matter, why she’d been upset. But could she tell her friend, her coworker the extent of her involvement? She ultimately decided on the truth. It wouldn’t change anything. “Yes.”
“Oh, boy,” Viola breathed, leaning back in her chair. “You can’t compromise the case,” she said slowly.