Читать книгу Fatal Disclosure - Sandra Robbins - Страница 11

TWO

Betsy stopped pacing the floor of the small office in the Ocracoke Sheriff’s Department and glanced at her watch. “What’s keeping them? They should have been here an hour ago.”

Lisa, the department dispatcher and Scott’s recent bride, looked up from her computer screen and smiled. “They’ll be here as soon as they’re finished at Springer’s Point. When Scott called in, he said they thought they’d found the spot where the man was shot. They’re looking for any evidence left at the scene.”

Betsy sank down in a chair by her sister-in-law’s desk and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Lisa, it was awful. That poor man. He died right beside me and I don’t know who he is or where he’s from.”

“I’m sure Brock and Scott will be able to tell us more when they get here.” Lisa reached out and patted Betsy’s shoulder before she directed her gaze back to the computer.

Betsy twisted in her chair and propped her elbows on Lisa’s desk. “Did Scott say anything about Mark Webber when he called in?”

A frown creased Lisa’s forehead, but she didn’t pull her attention from her computer. “Like what?”

“Like whether or not he’s coming back to the station with them?”

“No, but with him being a witness, too, they’ll probably bring him back.”

Betsy slumped in her chair and crossed her arms. “That’s what I thought.”

Lisa stopped typing, her fingers hovering over the computer keyboard, and stared at Betsy. “You sound like you don’t want to see him.”

Betsy’s face grew warm, and she blew at a stray lock of hair that dangled on her forehead. “I thought I’d seen him for the last time, and then he shows up again.”

Lisa tilted her head to the side and frowned. “I don’t understand. Had you met him before today?”

Betsy grunted and scooted down farther in her chair. “Oh, yeah.”

“But when? I’ve never heard you talk about anyone named Mark Webber.”

Betsy sighed and straightened. “I met Mark when I was in art school in Memphis. I worked part-time as a hostess at a restaurant, and Mark was a waiter there.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember Kate talking about your job. She showed me some pictures she took of the restaurant when she visited you once.”

“It was a great place to work, and the job was just what I needed, especially after I got that letter from Kevin saying he’d changed his mind about marrying me. He’d fallen in love with Sherry Kincaid, the girl who hated me all through school.”

Lisa pushed her computer keyboard out of the way and crossed her arms on top of the desk. “Yeah, he was a jerk. But I always thought he wasn’t good enough for you. He might have been the star athlete when we were in school, but look at him now. He can’t keep a steady job, and he and Sherry have three kids to feed. I’ll bet she’d change places with you in a heartbeat.”

Betsy reached over and squeezed her sister-in-law’s hand. “I doubt it, but you’re sweet to say that. Anyway, it’s all in the past. Back then, I was hurt and felt betrayed. Mark Webber was handsome and always seemed to have a lot of money to spend. But I couldn’t understand why he asked me questions all the time about our boss. Mr. Rousseau, the owner, had been good to me and helped me through the rough spot with Kevin. I decided Mark must think we were involved. I liked Mr. Rousseau a lot, but that’s as far as the relationship went.”

“So what happened next?”

“Mark really seemed to want a friendship with me, and soon I began to think he liked me. You know, in a more personal way. He kept asking me out, and when I finally gave in, I found I really liked him. In fact, I thought we might be headed for something serious. That is, until I learned the truth.”

Lisa’s eyes grew wide. “What truth?”

“Mr. Rousseau was the head of a drug ring, and the restaurant was a front for the organization. The police raided the place one night, and I discovered Mark was an undercover police officer who thought I was involved in the drug ring.” She swallowed hard. “So all the time he pretended to be interested in me, he really wanted to get some evidence against my boss and arrest me as an accomplice.”

“Oh, Betsy,” Lisa whispered, “how awful.”

“Yeah, it was. The officers took me downtown to police headquarters to question me. I was so relieved when Mark walked into the interrogation room, until I realized he thought I was guilty.”

Betsy wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. Even now it hurt to talk about that night.

Lisa wrapped her fingers around Betsy’s hand. “I can’t believe anyone who knows you could suspect you’d be involved in something like that.”

“I begged Mark to believe me, but he walked out and left me there. Later, I think he was really disappointed when he found out I had nothing to do with the drugs.”

Lisa’s fingers tightened. “What a jerk. I hope he does come in here. I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

Betsy took a deep breath and shook her head. “It wouldn’t do any good. I’m sure he thought he was doing his job and didn’t care who got hurt in the process. I’ll have to give him credit for trying to apologize later, but it came too late. He lied to me—just like Kevin did when he said he’d be here waiting until I finished school. Bottom line…I knew I could never trust him.”

“And now he shows up here. I wonder why.”

Betsy snickered. “I don’t have to guess. I know from the way he looked, he’s undercover again. The problem is, I don’t know who he’s after. But whoever it is, Mark had better stay away from me.”

Before Lisa could respond, the front door opened, and Scott and Brock walked in with Mark right behind. Lisa shot a glaring look at Mark as Scott walked over and put his arm around Betsy’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

She pushed her hair behind her ear and straightened her shoulders. “I’m fine. Lisa’s been keeping me company. I thought you’d never get here…”

“It took us longer out at Springer’s Point than we’d thought,” Brock said. He pointed to the back of the room. “Let’s go in my office and talk about what happened this morning.”

Without glancing in Mark’s direction, Betsy followed Brock and Scott into the office. Mark’s footsteps behind sent a warning signal flaring through her. When they entered Brock’s office and the door closed, she could sense Mark’s presence. She jerked her head in his direction. “What’s he doing here?”

Brock and Scott looked straight at her. “We thought we’d talk to the two witnesses together,” Brock said.

Betsy crossed her arms and sighed. “Don’t try to be evasive with me, Brock. I suspect Mark is an undercover officer.” She turned to face Mark. “I also know the Memphis Police Department has no jurisdiction on Ocracoke. So who do you work for now?”

“Betsy, please don’t…” Brock began.

She held out her hand with her palm facing Brock and shook her head. “No. I will not be tricked again by this man.” She turned to Mark. “Are you here to investigate me? Do you still think I must be involved in something illegal?”

Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Betsy, I never expected to see you when I came here. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.”

She took a step toward him. “Then be honest with me for a change. Why are you here?”

Neither of them blinked as they stared into each other’s eyes. Brock was the one to finally break the silence. “Mark, Betsy’s whole family has been involved in law enforcement as long as she can remember. She knows how important it is to keep matters confidential. You’re going to have to trust her.”

Mark’s forehead crinkled. “I do trust her, even if she doesn’t believe me.” He took a deep breath. “Betsy, I’m with the Drug Enforcement Administration stationed in Raleigh now. I’m undercover on Ocracoke to bring down a drug ring that’s smuggling illegal drugs into the country. The man murdered today was John Draper. He’s been undercover here for the past few months. I came to the island to replace him. Now it looks like I’ll be helping find his killer, and I think you can help.”

Betsy blinked in surprise. “How?”

“I received a message from him that he had some information for me and wanted to show me some evidence he’d discovered. But there was nothing on his body. Did he give you anything?”

“Like what?”

Mark shrugged. “I have no idea. All I know is he had something he said would blow our case wide open. I thought maybe he gave it to you.”

She shook her head. “No. He didn’t have time to give me anything. He died right away.”

Mark inched closer. “He must have done something with whatever it was. Think, Betsy. What happened after he came out of the forest?”

The events of the morning replayed in her mind, and she frowned in thought. “When I got to him, he said something about being caught. I thought he meant in the forest, but I didn’t see anybody else. Then I told him I was calling the sheriff’s office, and he mumbled something that sounded like ‘tell him.’”

“Tell him what?” Brock asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I told him to be still, and he said something about decoys. I thought he was delirious and maybe was thinking about duck season.”

Mark rubbed his hand over his head. “Did he just say the word decoy?”

“No. He said the decoys weren’t what they seemed. Then he gasped for breath, and I thought he had died. I closed my eyes and prayed for him, but it was no use. He was dead.”

Scott touched her arm, and she turned to him. “Are you sure he didn’t do or say anything else?”

She shook her head again. “No, that’s all he said.” She glanced from Scott to Brock. “If there was anything else, I would tell you. But that’s all he said.”

Brock let out a long breath. “We just want to make sure. If you think of anything else, let us know right away.”

“I will. Now is it okay if I go? I’m supposed to do some volunteer work at the British Cemetery today. I need to run by Treasury’s bed-and-breakfast and check on Emma before I go over there.”

“Who’s Emma?” Mark asked.

“My little sister,” Betsy said. “She lives with me in our family home out close to the beach. Scott lived with us until he and Lisa married recently.”

Mark nodded. “I do remember you telling me about her. How old is she now?”

“Eleven.”

Scott smiled. “Tell my little sister I’ll see her later.”

“I will.” She turned to leave, but Mark stepped in front of her and blocked her way.

His dark eyes stared at her. “Be careful. There’s still a killer out there somewhere.”

She lifted her chin and returned the intense gaze. “There may be a murderer on the island, but it has nothing to do with me. I’m not involved, just like I wasn’t the last time.”

He clenched his jaw and stepped out of her way. Betsy nodded to Scott and Brock and strode from the office. Lisa was on the phone and didn’t look up as Betsy rushed by. It was just as well, Betsy thought. She needed to get out of the office. Being around Mark brought up too many memories, and she didn’t need to dwell on things that happened years ago.

When she stepped onto the sidewalk, she saw her bicycle leaning against the side of the building. She jumped on and pedaled down the street toward Treasury Wilkes’s bed-and-breakfast. Whenever she needed someone to talk to, she ran to Treasury, who had been like a second mother ever since her own mother had died when Betsy was sixteen.

When she reached the two-story Victorian, she rushed inside, but Treasury and Emma were nowhere to be seen. They were probably off on one of their morning walks on the beach and wouldn’t be back until the middle of the afternoon.

Betsy glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that it was only ten o’clock. She had time to do her work at the cemetery before lunch. She hurried out the back door of the house to her truck, which she’d parked here this morning before her trip to Springer’s Point. Her gardening tools lay in the truck bed.

She grabbed the keys from under the driver’s seat and within minutes was on her way to the small cemetery where she spent time each week. The only way she knew to rid her mind of the events of the morning was to work off her pent-up energy on one of her projects. The British Cemetery topped the list of her favorite island spots.

She wanted to forget everything about the morning at Springer’s Point, especially the part about seeing Mark again. When she left Memphis, she thought Mark Webber was out of her life for good. Now he’d shown up undercover on her island. She couldn’t afford to let him into her life again, especially since she’d once thought they could have something special together.

Maybe a few hours of hard work and perspiration would erase that silly notion from her head.

* * *

Mark found it difficult to keep his mind on what Brock and Scott were saying. His mind kept wandering to the events earlier today. His gaze flitted across Brock’s office and came to a stop on a photograph sitting on a bookshelf behind Brock’s desk. Two women and a young girl smiled at him from the frame. One of them was Betsy.

Brock glanced at him and noticed him staring at the picture. “That’s my wife, Kate, and her two sisters. Emma is the youngest one’s name, and of course you know Betsy.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You can tell they’re sisters. They look alike.”

Brock picked up a paper off his desk and continued his discussion on leads John Draper had passed on to their office since his arrival on the island, but Mark tuned him out as he stared at Betsy’s picture. All he’d thought about all morning was how beautiful she looked at Springer’s Point.

She’d almost looked happy to see him in that first moment, but it passed quickly. A scowl replaced the smile, and he realized he was dreaming if he thought she’d ever welcome the sight of him again. Still, he couldn’t erase the picture of her standing at the top of the dunes—her feet planted apart, her dark eyes flashing, and her chestnut colored hair blowing in the breeze.

It reminded him of the night he began working in the Memphis restaurant and how he thought he’d never seen a more beautiful girl than Betsy, who was working as hostess. Although he kept telling himself to be careful about becoming too friendly with her, he couldn’t help liking her. In the end, though, he’d made a mess of that friendship like he had every other one he’d ever tried to have.

He sighed and directed his attention back to Brock Gentry. “What did you say?”

Brock chuckled. “What are you thinking about? You seem distracted.”

Mark pushed to his feet and shook his head. “I can’t get Draper out of my mind, and I’m tired. I didn’t sleep much last night. I think I need a cup of coffee.”

Scott jumped to his feet. “We can take care of that. Lisa keeps the coffee pot ready. Come on to the break room with me. You want some, Brock?”

Brock shook his head. “No, you two go on. I need to work on this report about Draper’s death.”

Mark followed Scott into the outer office. The woman who’d been at the dispatcher’s desk entered from a back room with a cup of coffee in her hand. She stopped as Scott approached her, and her eyes sparkled with a message meant for him alone. Scott smiled and leaned toward her.

“Me, too,” he whispered. Then he cleared his throat and straightened. “Uh, Mark, this is my wife, Lisa. We’re still newlyweds. I can’t believe this gorgeous woman would marry a guy like me.”

Mark smiled. “Congratulations. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Michaels. I’m Mark Webber.”

The smile on her face disappeared, and her eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Webber. From Betsy. She’s not only my sister-in-law, she’s a good friend. And I might add, she’s a wonderful woman.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Scott raised his hand to his mouth to cover a slight cough. “I told Mark I’d get him a cup of coffee. Is there any left?”

Lisa Michaels pursed her lips, nodded, and walked back to her desk. Mark took a step to follow Scott into the break room but stopped when the front door opened. A man in cutoff jeans, a T-shirt and a floppy straw hat strolled into the room and sauntered over to where Mark and Scott stood.

The man pushed his long gray hair behind his ear and grinned at Scott. “I heard there was some trouble out to the Point this morning. You got any idea who shot that feller?”

Scott sighed. “Mark, meet Grady Teach. He’s always the first to know whatever happens on the island, and he likes to spread the word. Grady, this is Mark Webber. He’s vacationing on the island.”

“Glad to meet you.” Grady grinned, and his tongue poked through a gap in the bottom row of his teeth. “Now about that feller that got shot. I happened to be at the health center when Arnold brought the body in, and I heard Doc talking ’bout how they didn’t know who he was. So I offered to look and see if I knew him.”

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Now, Grady. Don’t tell me Doc let you look at the body?”

Grady waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, he may not have known I looked, but I told him afterward I’d seen that feller over at the Blue Pelican a few nights ago. He was a-sittin’ at the bar like he was waitin’ for somebody.”

“Had you ever seen him there before?” Scott asked.

“No, but it seems like I saw him somewhere else. If I think of it, I’ll let you know. You got any idea who he is?”

Scott shook his head, put his hand on Grady’s shoulder and ushered him to the door. “I’ve got nothing to tell you, Grady, but thanks for stopping by and let me know if you think of anything else.”

When the door closed behind Grady, Scott turned around. “I’ll tell Brock we need to check out the Blue Pelican and see if anybody knows who Draper met there. Grady always knows just enough to try and find out more. He’s faster than a text message when it comes to spreading gossip. Now how about that coffee?”

Mark shook his head. “I think I’ll pass. Maybe I’ll get some later. I need to talk to my superiors and see where we go from here.”

Scott nodded. “See you later.”

Mark nodded to Lisa, who glanced up as he strode toward the door, exited the police station and hurried to his car. Once inside he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the DEA office in Raleigh. Moments later he was connected with his superior and related the account of John Draper’s death.

“What about this girl who was with him?” the special agent in charge asked.

Mark hesitated before he answered. “She’s a local artist. She says he didn’t give her anything, and I’ve told you what she said were his last words.”

“I don’t know, Mark. There may be something she’s forgotten. I think you need to question her again.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. I believed her.”

“Nevertheless, I’m telling you to talk to her. Don’t give up until you know for sure. Understand?” The voice vibrated with authority, and Mark knew it would no good to argue.

He sighed. “Okay, whatever you say. I’ll keep you posted.”

Mark ended the call and started the engine. Where was it Betsy said she was going? Some cemetery, but where?

He pulled into the street and spotted Grady Teach standing on the sidewalk outside the Coffee Cup. Mark pulled to the curb and rolled down his window. “Hey, Grady. I met you over at the sheriff’s office a few minutes ago, and I wondered if you can help me.”

Grady sauntered over to the car and leaned against the door. “What with?”

“A friend of mine was going to some special cemetery this morning, but I’ve forgotten the name.”

“Oh, that’s easy. All the tourists want to see the British Cemetery. Take Highway 12 until you come to British Cemetery Road and turn left. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Grady.” Mark waved and rolled the window up.

Taking a deep breath, Mark eased down on the accelerator. His boss was right. He needed to question Betsy more and see if there was something she’d forgotten. He didn’t want to intrude into her life, but a DEA agent had been killed. She might know something that would help them find the killer. Another thought struck him. She also might know something that would put her in danger. If so, he needed to find the killer as quickly as possible.

* * *

His fingers tightened on the cell phone when the name flashed on the caller ID. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Do you have it?”

“No. There was a problem.”

He sank down in his desk chair and wiped at the perspiration that popped out on his forehead. “What do you mean there was a problem?”

“Draper is dead, but he got out of the forest before we could reach him. We followed his trail out to the Point, but there was a woman with him. I had her in my sights and was about to shoot when this guy ran out of the forest. We heard her say the police were on their way. We couldn’t risk sticking around.”

He jumped to his feet, and the chair tipped backward and landed on the floor. “But you could risk the police finding what Draper had?”

The sigh that answered his question chilled his blood. “What Draper had is your problem. We were only trying to help you out. Our friends sent us here to make sure this next shipment gets to the mainland. After that, you’re the one who’s going to have to answer to why you couldn’t stop a DEA agent when you found him rifling through your office files.”

His heart slammed against his chest. “You don’t have to remind me. I need to recover whatever Draper found out. I’ll make it well worth your while if you can get it for me.”

Silence greeted his offer. He waited and finally his caller spoke. “We’ll see what we can do. We have information that there was nothing on his body when he was brought in. We also know the woman at the Point is an artist named Betsy Michaels. We think Draper probably gave the item to her, and the police may already have it. Want us to put some pressure on her to tell us where it is?”

A smile pulled at his lips, and he reached down and set the chair upright. “Yes, but be careful. Everybody in her family works for the sheriff’s department.”

“In that case, this could be trickier. It’s going to cost you twice what we usually get paid.”

“No problem. Just get it back for me before that shipment leaves.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

He disconnected the call and tossed the cell phone on his desk. “Betsy,” he muttered, “why did you have to get mixed up in this? It would have been better if you had stayed home this morning.”

He sat at his desk for a few moments thinking about John Draper and wishing he had killed him when he’d caught him snooping. Instead the man’s escape had put the entire drug cartel in jeopardy. When the bosses on the mainland looked for the weak link in their organization, he knew they would look to him for answers. He had to do whatever was necessary to protect himself, even sending those hired assassins after Betsy Michaels.

That decision should bother him, but it didn’t. He had too much riding on this last shipment to worry about Betsy. The Michaels family had a reputation as protectors of the island and its residents. Too bad they wouldn’t be able to do anything to help their sister. She had just come on the radar of the wrong people, and they never stopped until they got what they wanted.