Fatal Disclosure (12 page)

He took a deep breath. “I want to explain about Memphis.”

The sparkle in her eyes dimmed and was replaced by the wary expression she’d worn at Springer’s Point. “There’s nothing to explain.”

He ignored her reply and nodded. “Yes, there is. I want you to know I never intended to hurt you. I liked you from the moment I came to work at that restaurant. But I have to admit I cultivated your friendship to find out more about Mr. Rousseau.” He cleared his throat. “After I got to know you, I realized you knew nothing about what was going on there, but I suspected Brenda—who was one of the waitresses—did.”

“I remember Brenda. I never liked her much.”

Mark chuckled. “Neither did I. When I told my captain about Brenda, he ordered me to concentrate on her.” He paused. “But I couldn’t do it. I wanted to be with you, and I knew you wouldn’t understand if I suddenly turned my attention to her.”

“So what did you do?”

“I kept an eye on her and noticed she went into Mr. Rousseau’s office a lot right before she left work. One night after work I hid in the alley where we parked our cars and spotted her and Mr. Rousseau loading bags into the trunk of her car. When she drove away, I saw one of her taillights was out. I called it in, and two police officers stopped her a few blocks from the restaurant.” He took a long sip of lemonade and continued. “When they searched her trunk, they found it filled with bags of cocaine. It didn’t take long for her to confess. That’s the night the police raided the restaurant.”

Betsy shook her head. “But if you knew Brenda was involved, why was I taken to headquarters?”

“I tried to tell them you had nothing to do with it, Betsy. My captain chewed me out and told me if I had followed his orders and concentrated on Brenda, we could have raided the restaurant weeks ago. He told me I was too emotionally involved and couldn’t make an objective decision and that he was taking me off the case.” He clenched his jaw. “When I protested, he told me if I didn’t back off, he would see that I never worked another case. He said he was turning the case over to my partner, Bruce Roberts.”

Betsy’s forehead wrinkled. “I remember him. He’s the one who was so nice to me.”

“I know. I told him you had nothing to do with it and begged him to get you out of there. He said he would take care of it, and he did.”

She regarded him with a steady gaze that made his heart sink. He didn’t think she believed him. “Why didn’t you tell me all this the night I was taken to headquarters? I begged you to do something, and you just backed away and told me to tell the truth. Then you turned around and walked out. I’d never felt so alone or so betrayed in my life.”

He wanted to tell her he remembered how she looked at him and how he’d hated himself for putting her though that, but she wasn’t concerned with how he’d felt that night. “My partner was with you, and I knew you were with the person who was going to get you out of there. I did what I was ordered to do and thought I could explain it all later.”

Betsy stared at him without moving for a moment. She still had given no indication if she believed him or not. Finally she sighed. “And when you tried to explain, I slammed the door in your face.”

“That’s right.” He winced. “It was the last thing I wanted, but I finally gave up. Then a few months later, I ran into one of your friends, and she told me you’d graduated and left Memphis. She said she thought you were going to New York.”

“I was, but once I came home, I knew I couldn’t leave the place where I grew up. I began to paint the island waterfowl and landscapes and joined the artisan community here. Will liked my work and let me show it at his gallery. I make a good living by selling my paintings to the tourists, but Will and I also send our work to a gallery in Raleigh. I sell a lot there.”

“Which gallery is it?”

“Denning’s.”

Mark shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been there, but I didn’t see anything with your name on it.”

She smiled and wagged a finger at him. “Then you’re not very observant for an undercover agent.”

The sparkle had returned to her eyes, and it gave him hope she had believed his story. He took a deep breath. “Betsy, I hope you believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I agonized over what to do every day. I couldn’t tell you what was going on, and I knew we were headed for a showdown I didn’t want. I tried to figure a way to get you out of it, but in the end I couldn’t.”

She smiled, and his heart leaped. “I’m glad you told me, Mark. I’ve held on to a lot of bad feelings toward you, and I didn’t act the way I should have when you tried to explain. Now I think I can move past all that. Can you?”

He nodded. “There’s nothing that would please me more.”

“You’ve saved my life twice since you’ve been here, and I’m glad you’ve taken this step to heal our friendship.” She stuck out her hand. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my actions in the past.”

He grasped her hand, and his fingers tightened. “I want you to forgive me, too, Betsy. And I promise you while I’m here, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re protected.”

She smiled and pulled her hand free. “I don’t doubt that for a moment. You’re very good at your job, Mark.” She pushed back from the table and stood. “Now why don’t we go see what Treasury is cooking for dinner? When I came through the kitchen, I could smell what I thought was her special roast beef. If so, you’re in for a treat.”

He stood and followed her to the door. Spicy odors filled the air and mingled with the smell of baking bread. His stomach rumbled, but it was the feeling in his heart that thrilled him. He hadn’t felt this good in years, and he liked the joy being with her again had brought back to his life.

She walked over to Treasury, who stood at the kitchen sink, and put her arm around the woman’s shoulders. Treasury smiled at her, and he recognized the look of love that passed between the two. A memory of his mother smiling at him like that flashed through his mind.

The happiness he’d felt a moment ago evaporated, and he remembered why he had become a DEA agent. Ever since the morning he’d run into the driveway of their home and had seen the bodies of his parents, murdered by a car bomb because of his father’s prosecution of the head of a drug ring, he’d known what he had to do.

He’d started on this path years ago, and no matter what he had to give up, he wouldn’t budge from his determination. Not until he’d brought to justice every drug dealer he could find. If he had to deny himself a personal life, he would do it. He just had to be careful and not let his feelings for Betsy turn to anything more than the friendship he wanted with her. He’d walked away once, and he could do it again.

He owed his parents that much.

NINE

E
ven though it had only been one day since a gunman had dragged Betsy across the parking lot at Sam Isaacs’s store, it seemed much longer. At Mark’s insistence, she’d spent most of the last twenty-four hours in her studio working on her latest painting, but now she was getting restless. Maybe it was the midafternoon sunshine pouring through the big window that had her distracted, but she needed to get outside for some fresh air.

She put the last of her clean brushes and paints away and headed downstairs. As she reached the last step, Mark came through the front door into the hallway. His dark eyes flashed, and his lips curled into a smile. “Are you finished for the day?”

Even though she tried to ignore it, his smile stirred the feelings she’d been experiencing ever since he’d reappeared in her life. “I had to get out of my room. I was about to go crazy in there. I thought I might sit on the back porch for a while.” Something about him was different this afternoon, and it took her a minute to realize what he’d done. “When did you shave your beard?”

He grinned and rubbed his hand over his jaw. “This morning. I thought having it might help me blend in with the crowd at the local hangouts, but it hasn’t helped me chase down any leads yet.”

“I know you went out last night. Did you not have any luck?”

He shook his head and snorted. “To hear the locals tell it this island is clean. No drugs for sale anywhere.”

Betsy sighed. “I wish that were true, but Brock and Scott have arrested several people who had drugs on them or in their vehicles.”

“Yeah, that’s what they told me.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, I just came by to check on you. Now I’m going over to the wood carver’s shop. Did you say his name is Luke Butler?”

“That’s right. How about I come with you?”

He tilted his head to one side, and Betsy knew he was considering her suggestion. “I don’t know if it’s safe for you to be out.”

Betsy directed a pleading look at him. “Please take me with you. I’ve been cooped up in this house all day. I need to get out. And besides, you need me to introduce you to Luke.”

He stared at her for a moment before he exhaled and spread his hands in surrender. “Okay, you win. We’ll both go.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she had the front door open. “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

He shook his head and grinned. “I think I’ve just been outsmarted.”

“You have. My mother always said she couldn’t resist me when I turned on the charm.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he gazed into her eyes. “I guess I can’t, either.”

Betsy’s breath caught in her throat. Did his words imply he felt an attraction to her? Her denial to Mona at the health center of any romantic involvement with Mark flashed in her mind. In Memphis they’d considered themselves friends, and she was sure that’s the way Mark wanted it on Ocracoke, too. She didn’t need to start reading something that wasn’t there into his words.

“Then what are we waiting for?” She hurried down the front steps and across the yard to his parked car.

Mark’s words were still milling around in her mind when he started the car and pulled into the street. The narrow road that curved through the village was crowded with families on bicycles and pedestrians this afternoon, and Mark seemed focused on his driving. Neither of them had spoken.

She pointed to the car’s CD player. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

He shook his head. “I always keep six CDs loaded. Just push one.”

She reached out and depressed the button for track one and settled back in the seat. The first notes from a guitar sounded, and she stiffened. She jerked her head around and looked at Mark. “Is that the CD I gave you when I wanted to introduce you to my favorite Christian rock group?”

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he stared straight ahead. “Yes.”

“B-but you told me you didn’t like it. You must have been listening to it since it’s on your CD player. Why did you keep it all these years?”

He exhaled slowly. “I suppose I kept it because it reminded me of you. I wanted to understand the faith you have and thought I could get an answer from the music you like.”

His response stunned her. Although she’d tried many times in the past to tell Mark about God’s love for him, he had been vocal about not being a believer. “I assume it made an impression on you or you wouldn’t have kept it.”

He shrugged. “I’m still listening to it. Still searching for answers.”

She studied his profile, but he didn’t glance at her. At that moment, Luke Butler’s studio came into sight. She pointed to the parking lot beside the small house. “Pull in here.”

He stopped the car and started to get out, but she reached out and touched his arm. He stared at her hand a moment before he glanced up. “What is it?”

“I think you know where to look for the answers, Mark. It’s just a matter of stepping out on faith.”

He bit down on his lip and nodded. “I guess I’ve never learned to do that.”

She sat still and watched him climb from the car. After a moment, she sighed and pushed her door open. Years ago in Memphis, she had prayed for Mark to find peace for whatever had happened in his life. She’d stopped praying for him when she left to come home, and that knowledge made her ashamed. No matter what had happened between them he was still a child of God, and she wanted Mark to know the joy that comes from knowing Him. She would have to see what she could do about helping him accept God’s love.

* * *

When they entered the studio, Mark looked around in wonder. He’d never seen anything like the displays on tables and shelves across the room. Everywhere he looked he saw carved sculptures of waterfowl—American widgeon, green-winged teal, scoters, ruddy ducks and probably every species of the Outer Banks.

He stopped next to a decoy of a bufflehead and stared at the patch of green above the bird’s beak. “The details on these are magnificent.”

“Luke is a master wood carver. His decoys are a favorite with the sportsmen who come to the island during hunting season. Of course, I can’t stand to think about those beautiful birds being hunted, but a lot of people here make their living by guiding hunters.” She smiled. “No matter how many times I come here I’m always amazed at the number of pieces Luke has created since the last time I was here.”

Mark glanced around at the people scattered across the studio. “Where is Luke?”

“There he is.”

Mark looked in the direction she pointed and saw a man, perhaps in his late sixties, talking to a group of tourists at the back of the shop. He held a decoy of a Northern Pintail and pointed out the markings on the duck’s back. He glanced up, spotted Betsy and waved. In a few minutes he excused himself from the group and came toward her. “Betsy, good to see you. Don’t tell me you need to buy a decoy?” His gray eyes twinkled behind the wire-rimmed glasses he wore.

“No, I’m not in the market for one today, but my friend may be.” She nodded in Mark’s direction. “This is Mark Webber, and he’s interested in decoys.”

Luke turned toward him. “Good. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Mark made a sweeping motion with his hand. “I can’t believe what you have in here. Did you do all this yourself?”

Luke chuckled. “I did. I’ve been carving wood ever since I was a boy and my daddy gave me my first penknife. I carve all kind of wooden sculptures, but decoys are my favorites.”