Sandra Robbins - Fatal Disclosure

Arnold smiled at her. “Ready to go, Betsy?”

“Yes.” She glanced one more time at Mark, but he still hadn’t looked at her.

Brock hooked his thumbs in his service belt and inclined his head toward the forest. “Okay, Mr. Webber, suppose you show us where you were when you heard the shots.”

Without speaking, Mark headed toward the spot where he’d exited the forest. Brock and Scott followed behind. She stared at Mark’s back a moment, and the memory of his walking away from her once before washed over her. With one last glance in his direction, she jogged after Arnold and his assistant, who had already disappeared down the trail.

As she hurried to catch up with the EMTs, she thought about the look in Mark’s eyes when he’d first seen her. Was it surprise, or was it something else? Could he possibly have been happy to see her? She frowned and shook her head. Thinking like that could get her in trouble. It had once before.

Whatever he felt when he first saw her, it had changed in an instant. The old Mark had emerged and brought back all the memories she’d tried to push from her mind. The veiled look had alerted her to what she wished she’d seen when she first met him.

How she wished she could forget what had happened, but she couldn’t. Even after all these years she still remembered the terror she felt the night two officers escorted her into a police department interrogation room. That fear had turned to anger when Mark walked into the room and advised her it would go easier on her if she told the police everything she knew. Then he walked out the door and left her to face the worst nightmare of her life.

She’d called out for him to come back that night, but he walked away without a backward glance. Just like he did moments ago when he went with Brock and Scott. Now she only wanted to get away from him as fast as she could.

Mark was on the hunt, just like before, and he’d once again gone into shutdown mode. She had no idea who he was after, but she knew one thing. He didn’t care who he had to walk all over in the pursuit of justice.

This time, she was determined it wouldn’t be her.

* * *

Mark braced himself for the outburst he knew was coming. They had barely entered the forest before it happened.

“That’s far enough, Webber.” Brock’s voice brought him to a halt. “What in the world were you thinking?”

He took a deep breath and stared at the deputies. The branches of a huge tree shaded the three of them, but it didn’t hide the anger on their faces. Both of them glared at him with looks that told him they’d like to punch him in the jaw.

“I had no idea you were related to Betsy.”

“Are you serious?” Scott hissed. “The Drug Enforcement Administration gives you an undercover assignment on the island where Betsy grew up, and you don’t think it’s important they know about your connection?”

He shook his head. “I knew she was from Ocracoke, but I didn’t know for sure she came back here after she graduated from art school. She told me she wanted to live in New York.” He glanced at Brock. “When I met with you at Sheriff Baxter’s office on the mainland, I had no clue you were related to Betsy. And you, Scott, weren’t even there. If you had been, I probably wouldn’t have made the connection. I didn’t even know Betsy had a brother.”

Scott took a step closer to Mark. “I know all about Betsy’s experience with an undercover police officer in Memphis. If we had known it was you, we would have told Sheriff Baxter to send you back to Raleigh.”

“Well, I’m here now, and you’ll have to make the best of it,” Mark countered.

Scott clenched his fists. “I’m warning you, Webber. Watch your step around my sister. Understand?”

Brock laid a restraining hand on Scott’s arm. “I suppose there’s no use arguing about it now. We’ve got bigger problems. The murdered guy back there is John Draper. He’s been working undercover for several months here. He must have found out something that got him killed. Do you have any idea what it could be?”

Mark shook his head. “All I know is I was assigned to take over the investigation here. Draper was supposed to leave on the noon ferry today. I received instructions to rendezvous with him at Springer’s Point this morning. He had something to give me. When I arrived, he was dead.”

Brock pulled off his sunglasses and stuck them in his shirt pocket. “Do you have any idea what he had for you?”

“No. My message just said he’d made a big discovery that could blow the case open, and I was to meet him here. But according to the EMTs he didn’t have anything in his pockets.”

Brock’s forehead wrinkled. “Do you think he could have hidden it somewhere?”

Mark shrugged. “I don’t know.” His heart pounded at a sudden thought. “I wonder if he could have said anything to Betsy. Maybe something that didn’t seem important at the time.”

“That’s a possibility. We’ll see if she remembers anything.” Brock sighed and stared into the forest. “Before we do, let’s see if we can find the spot where he was shot. Could you tell where the sound came from?”

Mark pointed deeper into the forest. “This way. I was on the trail when I heard the gunfire and ran into the trees. I didn’t see anyone until I found Betsy bending over him.”

“Then let’s try straight ahead,” Brock said.

A sudden thought popped into Mark’s head, and his eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute. Whoever shot John must have followed him when he stumbled out of the forest. What if they saw Betsy? She could be in danger. We need to question her to see if there’s something she saw that may be related to John’s death.”

Scott’s mouth tightened. “I don’t want my sister to be dragged into the middle of an undercover drug sting.”

“And neither do I,” Brock added.

“I understand.” It was evident the two deputies were very protective of her, and Mark didn’t blame them.

His friendship with Betsy had died years ago, and there was no point in thinking it could be recovered. He’d tried over and over to explain what had happened, but she wouldn’t answer his phone calls or emails. Then when he’d worked up his courage, he’d finally gone to her apartment to beg her forgiveness. That gesture had earned him a door slammed in his face.

Only then did he give up. Betsy hated him and would never forgive him. He’d accepted what he couldn’t change. Or had he? Maybe when he’d received this assignment, he’d secretly hoped she might be on Ocracoke.

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. Forget that idea and concentrate on the job. A DEA agent had been murdered, and Betsy had been the last person to see him alive. She might have information that would be helpful in catching a killer. That’s all he wanted from her. Nothing more.

He had two goals—catch John’s killer and bring down a drug-smuggling ring. When that was accomplished, he’d be off this island and out of Betsy Michaels’s life for good.

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.”