Fatal Disclosure (14 page)

She buried her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. It seemed so right to be in Mark’s arms. She couldn’t deny it anymore. This is where she’d wanted to be since she’d first met him in Memphis. But her feelings didn’t make any difference. Mark didn’t want a relationship, and she would have to make sure he never guessed how she felt.

TEN

B
etsy didn’t know if she would ever be warm again. Even four hours after the attack in her studio, her body still shivered at what she had experienced. A hand squeezed her shoulder, and she glanced up from where she sat at Treasury’s kitchen table into the face of her brother. He poured her another cup of coffee and eased into a chair across from her. Mark and Brock sat on either side of her.

She picked up the coffee and tried to bring the cup to her mouth, but her hand trembled so she had to set it down again. Tears filled her eyes, and she bit down on her lip. Brock covered her hand with his. “I talked to Kate. She’s beside herself because she can’t be here, but the baby and Emma are both asleep. She wants me to bring you to our house.”

“That’s a good idea, Betsy,” Mark said. “Your studio is a crime scene now, and you can’t go back in. I can take you to Kate’s house if you want me to.”

“Maybe later.” She clasped her hands in her lap and rocked back and forth. She could almost feel those cold fingers still around her neck. “I didn’t see him in the dark. Why didn’t the light come on?”

“He’d unscrewed the lightbulbs,” Mark said. “He wanted to take you by surprise.”

“I was so scared.” She stared at Mark and remembered how it had felt to be in his arms. A tear slipped from her eye. “I killed a man, Mark.”

He sprang from his chair, knelt beside her and grabbed her by the shoulders. His fingers tightened their hold, and Betsy almost gasped at the blazing rage in his eyes. “The fall from the window killed him, Betsy. Not the gunshot wound in his shoulder, and not you. But he came here to murder you, and you had every right to protect yourself. I won’t have you feeling guilty for something that wasn’t your fault. Do you understand?”

“Mark’s right, Betsy. You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” Brock said.

She glanced across the table to Scott, and he nodded. “They’re right. When you have time to think about this, you’ll realize what we’re saying is true.”

Betsy heard the comforting words coming from her brother and her brother-in-law, but it was the burning concern she saw in Mark’s eyes that made her want to believe them. She tried to smile at him. “This is three times you’ve come to my rescue. How can I ever repay you?”

He released her and moved back into his chair. “By helping us catch these guys. Brock and Scott are going to question Luke in the morning to see what connection he has to the dead man, but there’s some reason they keep coming after you. They are convinced John said something or gave you something before he died. Are you sure you haven’t forgotten something?”

She shook her head and clasped her hands in front of her on the table. “I’ve already told you everything he said.”

“About the decoys?”

“Yes. All he said was to tell him the decoys aren’t what they seem.”

Mark reached across the table, covered her hands with his, and leaned closer. “There has to be something else. Think, Betsy. Was there anything at all out of the ordinary that he said or did?”

Her brow wrinkled, and she searched her mind for something she might have overlooked. It was as if her mind was on rewind, and she concentrated on everything that happened from the time John Draper stumbled out of the woods. There had to be something. But what was it?

After a moment, she began to speak her thoughts. “He came toward me, and I helped him ease down to the ground. I took my phone out of fanny pack and told him I was going to call the police. That’s when he said they caught him. I thought he meant someone had followed him and looked over my shoulder. I remember I felt his hand fumbling at my fanny pack, and I turned back to him. Then I…”

She stopped and took a deep breath. Mark squeezed her hands, and she turned to stare at him. “Then what?” he urged.

Her heart pounded like a bass drum, and she jumped to her feet. “I’d forgotten about my fanny pack!” Mark, Scott and Brock shot to their feet, too. She turned to Mark. “That night when I emptied my fanny pack there was a pen in it I didn’t remember putting in there.”

Mark cast a quick glance in Brock’s direction and then back to her. “Where is it now?”

“In the Degas mug. I’ll get it.”

She started to leave, but Mark shook his head. “You don’t need to go back in there. I’ll get it for you.”

Before she could respond, Mark had dashed from the kitchen. Scott and Brock both had puzzled expressions on their faces. “Was there anything unusual about this pen?” Scott asked.

She dropped down into her chair and shook her head. “It was just a black pen like they have on the desk at the bank with the deposit slips. I thought I had probably picked it up there.”

Brock and Scott settled back into their chairs, but their expressions told her they thought this might be the lead they had been looking for. Within minutes, Mark hurried into the room with the mug in his hand, set it in front of Betsy and took his seat. “Which one is it?”

Betsy’s body stiffened at the sight of the mug. The memory of how she had grappled to find the scissors filled her with a paralyzing fear. Her attacker’s agonizing groan as the blades plunged into his body still rang in her mind, and she didn’t know if she would ever be able to forget how she had fought for her life.

Mark reached out and grasped her hand. “Betsy, show us which one it is.” His voice had a soothing effect on her, and she took a deep breath.

She lifted her hand and pulled the black pen from the jumbled collection in her pencil holder. “This is it.” She held it out to Mark.

He took the pen from her and examined it on all sides. “It looks like an ordinary ballpoint pen.”

Brock frowned and leaned over to get a better look. “Do you think he might have written some message and hidden it in the barrel of the pen?”

Mark shrugged. “Could be. I’ll take it apart.”

He grabbed the cap of the pen and tugged it off. Mark’s eyes widened, and all four of them gasped at the same time. Betsy couldn’t believe what she saw. It was more than a pen.

Mark shook his head, chuckled and held it out for them to see. “Would you look at that? The other end of the pen is a USB flash drive. John must have downloaded some information on it.”

“That’s what he meant!” Betsy slapped her palms down on the table. “He said they caught me. I thought someone was after him, but he must have meant they found him downloading something they didn’t want anyone to know.”

Mark held the flash drive up in front of his face and peered at it. “It must be important information because they killed him for it and wanted to kill Betsy to get it back.” He jumped to his feet. “Treasury has a computer in her office. Let’s see what’s on here.”

Mark hurried from the kitchen with Brock and Scott close behind, but Betsy couldn’t move. A ballpoint pen with a flash drive on the other end placed in her fanny pack by a dying man. That’s what had made her the target of killers. And tonight the man in her room had almost succeeded.

She folded her arms in front of her on the table and laid her head on them. For the past few days, her life had been like a bad dream. Tonight it had turned into a nightmare. She no longer doubted her life was in danger. That illusion had died the minute icy fingers clamped around her throat.

The man who had attacked her was dead, but whoever had hired him was still on Ocracoke Island. When they found out the hit man they sent to kill her was dead instead, she would be in more danger than ever before. She wouldn’t be safe until everyone associated with her assailant was caught and put in jail.

* * *

Mark could hardly contain his excitement over the discovery of the flash drive. John had given his life to obtain whatever information was on it, so it had to be something important. With Scott and Brock right behind, he rushed into Treasury’s office and headed to her computer. The screen came to life the moment his fingers touched the keyboard. He inserted the flash drive in the USB port and was about to open it when he glanced around and noticed Betsy hadn’t followed them into the room.

Scott and Brock crowded behind him and peered over his shoulder. Brock jabbed him in the shoulder. “This could be what we’ve been waiting for.”

Mark frowned and stared at the door. “Where’s Betsy?”

“She’s probably still in the kitchen. Go on and open it. Let’s see what’s on it.”

Mark’s fingers touched the keyboard, but a sudden thought stopped him. Not only had John died for this flash drive, but it had also been the cause of the attempts on Betsy’s life. Maybe she didn’t want to see what was on it, and maybe the attack tonight had affected her more profoundly than any of them knew.

She had fought for her life tonight more than he’d ever seen anybody do in all his years of police work. Even though she’d survived, he suspected the ordeal had wounded her in a way only she could see—in her spirit. No matter what he’d said to try and ease her guilt, she knew she contributed to a man’s death, and she was suffering because of it.

Mark glanced back at the keyboard and then toward the door. Betsy still hadn’t appeared, and he grimaced. Scott nudged him in the back. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to open it?”

Why was he hesitating? The answer popped into his head. For the first time in years, something else mattered to him besides the case he was working on. The truth he’d refused to recognize couldn’t be withheld any longer. His feelings for Betsy were the most important thing in his life. Now she sat alone in the kitchen, and she needed someone.

He pushed back from the computer and stood. “I’m going to check on Betsy. You guys see what you can find on the flash drive.”

Without waiting for Scott and Brock to question him, he strode from the room. He balled his fists at his sides and shook his head in resignation. Facing the truth about loving Betsy should have made him happy, but it didn’t. Not after overhearing her tell Kate and Lisa he was the last person in the world she would ever become involved with. But it was probably for the best she felt that way. There was no way an undercover cop could have a normal life with a wife and family.

He stopped at the kitchen entrance and propped his hand against the doorjamb. Betsy still sat at the table with her head resting on her arms. He didn’t think she was crying, but her drooping shoulders told him he’d been right about her wounded spirit.

“Betsy,” he murmured, “are you all right?”

She jerked her head up and shot a wild-eyed stare at him. “What are you doing back? Have you already opened the flash drive?”

“No…Scott and Brock are looking at it. I wanted to come back and see about you. How are you feeling?”

She wiped at a tear in the corner of her eye, and he had to force himself not to rush over to her and wrap his arms around her. Instead he walked to the table and eased into the chair next to her. “I can still feel those fingers on my throat and hear how he groaned when I stabbed him with the scissors. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened tonight.”

He slid his hand across the table and wrapped his fingers around hers. “You may never totally forget, but it will get better in time.”

Her fingers tightened on his, and she glanced down at their hands locked together. “I’ve been thinking about the attempts on my life. I think I may be in more danger than ever now that the drug dealers’ hit man is dead. What am I going to do, Mark?”

“I won’t let you out of my sight until these guys are caught.”

“And what if you don’t catch them? You can’t stay on Ocracoke forever. You’ll have to leave sometime.”

One tear slid down her cheek, and the sight of it set his mind reeling. He longed to tell her he would stay forever if need be, but he knew he couldn’t. “Scott and Brock are here for you, too.”

“I know, and I’m grateful for them. Right now I feel frightened and kind of lost. I can’t get in my studio, and I’m afraid to go home. I wish I could get off the island for a few days. Maybe that would give me time to come to grips with what’s happened.”

“I think…”

Footsteps at the door interrupted him, and he glanced around to see Brock and Scott entering the kitchen. Both of them frowned. Brock held out the flash drive. “Bad news, Mark. We opened this up and scrolled through the documents. They appear to be some kind of ledger sheets, but they’re in code. We have no idea what they say.”

Mark pounded his fist on the table and pushed to his feet. “I can’t believe this. We have what they want, and we can’t read it.”

He strode across the kitchen to the sink and grasped the edge of the counter on either side with his hands. Betsy was right. She was in more danger now than ever, and he had promised to stay with her. But this new development needed immediate attention. He had to get the flash drive to Raleigh and let their lab people take a crack at breaking the code. How could he do both?

An idea popped into his head, and he let out a long breath of air. He turned to face Brock and Scott. “I need to get this flash drive to Raleigh right away. I’m going to call my superior and have him send a helicopter for me. I want to get this thing off the island before something happens and the smugglers recover it.”

Brock nodded. “Good idea.”

He glanced at Betsy, whose mouth had drawn into a grim line. Mark took a deep breath. “And I want to take Betsy with me.”

Betsy arched an eyebrow. “You want me to go with you?”

“Yes.” He returned to the table and slid into the chair next to her. “You’re in danger here, Betsy. Brock and Scott can’t be with you every minute. They have a job to do. I live with my sister in Raleigh, and there’s an extra bedroom. You can stay with us for a few days while I’m at headquarters.”

She frowned and glanced at Scott, who nodded. “I think that’s a good idea, Betsy. It’ll do you good.”