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.
“I would never do that,” Shelby said heatedly. She blinked slowly, letting her eyes stay shut as she gathered her strength for this confession. “But I want it over. I honestly believe we have enough to get the warrants and wire taps. When we get those, I don’t have to do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” she asked, arching a brow in question.
“Both.”
Viola nodded. “But Rick thinks you still need to be on the inside.”
“Doesn’t matter if Mason doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
“So he’s back to Mason now?” she asked with a smile. When Shelby narrowed her gaze at her, she raised her hands and said, “Sorry. Low blow.”
“You understand my dilemma.”
She cocked her head to the side. “And which one is that? The fact that you two have—for lack of a better phrase—broken up? Or that you’re into a guy who you think is a criminal?”
“Take your pick,” she muttered.
“C’mon, Shelby. You’re doing your job. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Except fall in love with a man I’m lying to, and not telling my boss the extent of my involvement.”
“You’re in love with him?” she screeched.
“Oh God, I need something more than rabbit food if we’re getting into all this.” She waved at the waitress and ordered the onion rings she’d wanted. If Viola had looked horrified at the thought of going without makeup, she now looked ready to arrest Shelby for a capital offense. “It’s a vegetable,” she said in defense.
“Deep fried in fat.”
“Vegetable oil.” Shelby shrugged. Though it didn’t matter if they were cooked in lard, she was going to savor every last one of them.
“You’re in love with him?” Viola asked, shaking her head as if she was still trying to wrap it around the news and forget the artery-hardening snack on the way.
“Please don’t lecture me,” Shelby said, exasperated. “I don’t think I can take it right now. I worked this case as assigned, and now it’s personal. I didn’t plan on that happening, but it did. I know there’s no way this can work. Mason looks guilty as hell, and I will do what’s necessary to bring him in because it is my job. If a judge and jury agree, he’s going to jail. If by some miracle, he’s innocent, I’ve used him to get information, lied to him about who I am. Believe me, I know how bad this is.”
Viola smiled, and Shelby gawked at her. “You find this amusing?”
She bit her lips in a poor attempt to hide her grin. “No. Not that. I’m just wondering… I mean, you like the BDSM stuff, don’t you?”
The tension she expected at the mention of that lifestyle didn’t come. In fact, she had to fight her own smile. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”
Viola shrugged and focused on her salad again. “I don’t know. I’m intrigued by it. Not that it matters now. Dave was disgusted with it. I guess I’ll have to think of another way to rekindle the flame.”
Shelby frowned at her. It hadn’t been the first time Viola had suggested
