Page 109 of Once Upon a Lie

Heads turn and conversations dip and people do that thing where they look at you like they’re trying to decide whether they’re allowed to speak to you again.

I keep my eyes forward and find Tracy at her desk. She’s been the captain’s civilian assistant for going on twenty years now, and every officer in here knows she’s the glue that keeps this station from falling apart most days.

“Hey, Tracy,” I say, forcing something I hope looks like a smile.

She looks up, and her expression softens like she’s relieved I’m real. “Hi, Shane. Good to see you.”

“You too.” I nod. “Cap said you needed signatures.”

“Mm-hmm.” She pulls a manila folder from a stack and slides it toward me. “These have to be in your file. Liability acknowledgments, reinstatement paperwork, the whole nine. I told him it could wait until Monday, but he grunted at me to get it done now.” She offers a wry grin and points to the papers. “Just need you to sign at the bottom of each one.”

I do as I’m told, and when I slide the now-signed documents back toward her, her eyes flick to my face. “You okay, honey?”

The question hits too close to the bone, but I swallow down my discomfort and put on a neutral face.

“Yep. I’m good.”

Tracy makes a skeptical sound and taps her pen on the desk like she knows better but isn’t going to make it her problem. “Just glad you’re back. And everything is . . . cleaned up.”

Tracy isn’t supposed to know the intel, but she works too closely with everyone not to. Though she’s a steel fortress when it comes to talking. Her two decades of working at MNPD prove that.

I swallow again and nod. “Thanks.”

“Oh, shoot,” she says after looking through all my signatures. She opens a file folder to pull out a few more papers. “I need you to sign these too. Sorry.”

“No big deal.” I lean back over her desk and start signing.

Behind me, I hear a cluster of voices that belong to a few SWAT guys.

“I’m telling you, my wife is going to be pissed at me for canceling our date night.”

“Overtime’s overtime, dude. Cap says we’ll get the full brief Friday.”

“Yeah, yeah, but what’s the big secret? It’s just security at Centennial Park.”

“You really think it’s just security if they’re putting all of us there? Ha. Don’t be so fucking naive.”

“You think we’re going to get some action, then?”

“I know we are.”

“Why is it at Centennial again?” a new voice chimes in.

“Cordone Freight thing.”

“Cordone Freight?” the new voice questions. “Isn’t that that big-money shipping company?”

“Yeah. Fancy gala. Black tie. They’re renting the whole damn park area by the Parthenon or something.”

“But Cap said no details until Friday. Like we’re gonna ruin the surprise by knowing what the hell we’re walking into.”

They chuckle.

But I’m not laughing at all. My blood goes cold so fast it feels like I’m falling down an elevator shaft.

Cordone Freight Gala. Centennial Park. Saturday night.

I was supposed to be Valentina’s date. I was supposed to be there.