Fatal Disclosure (6 page)

Now she was about to take refuge at Treasury’s bed-and-breakfast, where she would be reminded every day of how he’d deceived her in the past. She didn’t want to relive that time in her life, but with Mark’s presence at the inn, there didn’t seem to be a way around it. Not with her family insisting she wasn’t safe at home.

Mark turned the car onto the road leading to her house, and she glanced at him. He hadn’t said anything since they left the health center. Did he regret agreeing to watch out for her? She crossed her arms and frowned. Of course he did. He wouldn’t let anything interfere with his investigation. Not even her safety.

When he pulled the car to a stop, she jumped out and was already unlocking the front door before he caught up with her. “What’s the hurry?” he asked.

She shrugged and pushed the door open. “No reason.” She stepped into the living room and motioned toward the sofa. “You can have a seat there. I’ll pack some clothes and be back in a few minutes.”

“You need any help?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Betsy hurried into her bedroom, closed the door and leaned against it. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heartbeat. Her skin prickled just as it had done when the speeding car had raced past her. Mark had saved her life, and she had to admit she was thankful he was there.

She might have reservations about Mark as a person, but she knew he was good at his job. If someone did want to hurt her, she could do worse than have Mark Webber protecting her. Until they determined whether she was in danger, she would have to make the best of a bad situation and accept his help. With a sigh, she jerked the closet door open and began to pull out some clothes.

Fifteen minutes later, Betsy pulled her rolling suitcase into the living room. Mark rose from the couch and came toward her. “I’ll put that in my car for you.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “No, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For smiling. That’s the first time I’ve seen a glimpse of the Betsy I once knew since we met at Springer’s Point this morning. I always thought you had a beautiful smile.”

His words stirred a warning in her, and she frowned. “I’m not the naive girl I was then, Mark. I’ve discovered that you can’t trust some people, and it’s better to be wary before becoming close to someone.”

He exhaled and reached for the handle of her suitcase. “I’m sorry if I caused you to be cynical about people, Betsy. Your acceptance of everyone was one of the things I liked most about you.”

She jerked the suitcase away and glared at him. “Did you think that because I chose to see the good in people I would keep quiet about illegal activities like drug dealing?”

Mark glanced down at her hand clutching the handle of the rolling bag and flexed his fingers. “I told myself you wouldn’t, but you were always telling me how great Mr. Rousseau was and what a terrific boss he was. I could tell he was interested in you. I had to know if you were involved with him.”

Even after all these years, the hurt she’d felt when she found out Mark had used her to crack a case resurfaced, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “Well, you were wrong. I was just a girl from a remote island who’d never been away from home, and I thought you were my friend. All I was to you was a means to an end.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s not true. I had a job to do, and I did it. You weren’t even arrested.”

“No. I suppose I have your fellow officers to thank for that. Everybody else involved in the case knew right away I wasn’t involved. It was almost as if you were on some kind of mission to get the bad guys and it didn’t matter who ended up getting hurt.”

“I was on a mission, but I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he insisted. “I called dozens of times afterward, but you wouldn’t listen to what I had to say.”

Mark’s dark eyes flickered, and for a moment Betsy thought she detected a hint of sadness. She took a deep breath and shook her head. “This is getting us nowhere. We may never agree on what happened in Memphis. For now, though, it looks like we may be seeing quite a bit of each other for a while. Let’s try to make the best of it.”

He nodded. “You’re right. Think of me as a cop who’s on assignment and wants to make sure a potential witness doesn’t get hurt.”

Potential witness?
The words jabbed at her heart like knife pricks. History was repeating itself. He’d once viewed her as an opportunity to break a case, and now he saw her in the same way. She’d been right about him. He didn’t care about anybody or anything except whatever case he was working on.

She blinked back tears and lifted her chin. “I guess some things never change.”

His eyes grew wide. “Betsy, I didn’t mean…”

Her ringing cell phone interrupted her. She jerked it from her fanny pack and pressed it to her ear. “Hello.”

“Hello, Miss Michaels. How’s your day going so far?”

A chill flowed through Betsy at the raspy voice she’d heard once before when she thought it was a wrong number. This time, he’d called her by name. “W-Who is this?”

“Just a friend checking in to see how you’re holding up.”

Her hand shook, and her eyes grew wide. Mark frowned and stepped closer. His mouth formed a silent
what?

Betsy pulled the phone away from her ear, clicked to speaker phone, and held it out so they both could hear. “What do you want?”

A low chuckle rattled into the room. “Something you have.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Betsy’s hand shook, and Mark’s fingers tightened around hers to hold the phone still.

“Don’t play me for an idiot. He gave it to you.”

Betsy swallowed to relieve her burning throat, but her mouth had gone dry. “Nobody gave anything to me.”

“Oh, really? I find that hard to believe. I think you want to bargain with me. Okay, I’ll play along. How much do you want for it?”

“I’m telling you I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her shrill words bounced off the walls.

For a moment he didn’t speak. Then he sighed, and the sound seeped into her soul like an icy death knell. “Have it your way, Miss Michaels. But I think you’ve just made the wrong choice.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“The car at the cemetery was just a warning. You’d better keep looking behind you, because we’re coming for you. When we do, you’ll wish you’d cooperated with us.”

“Please, listen to me…”

The silence on the phone told her the caller had disconnected. The cell phone slipped through her fingers and thudded to the floor at her feet. Mark bent down, scooped it up, and handed it back to her.

“We’ll check the phone records, Betsy. I’ll find out who called.”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “You forget I’ve lived my whole life with police officers. I know he was smart enough to use a phone that can’t be traced.”

He reached out and gripped her hand. “You’re probably right, but we’ll try anyway. Until we know who he is, I’ll stay close to you. I promise I’ll protect you.”

Betsy glanced down at their locked hands. A few minutes ago, he’d held her fingers still when the voice on the phone had frightened her. In that moment she’d been glad Mark was with her, and she felt the same way now.

The memory of what had occurred in Memphis was nothing compared to what she had experienced today. Mark hadn’t given up until he’d brought that case to a close, and he hadn’t changed. His dogged persistence would make him do everything in his power to keep her safe and to find out who had called. If he could do that, it would make spending time with him worthwhile.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Mark followed Betsy through the back door of the Island Connection Bed-and-Breakfast. He hadn’t known Betsy had a studio in the house when he’d booked his reservation. Maybe it would have been better if he had stayed somewhere else, but then he wouldn’t have been able to watch out for Betsy.

He shook his head in resignation. This might not be what he’d envisioned when he came to the island, but he had to admit he looked forward to seeing Betsy on a regular basis. He had never meant to hurt her, and it pained him greatly that he’d done just that. Truth was, even when he was so intent on bringing down Rousseau, he knew Betsy had qualities he admired.

Why couldn’t he see the good in people the way she did? There were two reasons. The first was because she had a deep faith in God. He’d never known anyone like her. She’d often spoken to him and tried to convince him of God’s love, but he’d never been able to accept something he couldn’t see.

The other reason was because he’d seen what human beings can do to each other, and it sickened him. He’d never wanted to spend his life searching for hardened criminals who gave no thought to the hurt they inflicted on their victims, but that’s just what he’d done. And all because of that long-ago morning in his family’s driveway. He couldn’t forget the vow he’d made that day.

Now, eighteen years later, he couldn’t rid himself of the obsession that had ruled his life ever since. He’d put a lot of criminals behind bars, but he’d left behind some innocent victims along the way. Betsy was one of them, and he regretted that more than she would ever know.

Betsy walked into the kitchen of the bed-and-breakfast and he trailed close behind. Treasury Wilkes, the elderly owner he’d met when he first arrived, bustled through the door from the dining room. Her eyebrows drew down in a worried expression. “Land sakes, Betsy. Kate came by and told me what happened to you today.” She stopped in front of Betsy, grasped her arms and stared into her face. “Are you all right, darling?”

Betsy smiled and leaned over to plant a kiss on Treasury’s cheek. “I’m fine.” She straightened and glanced over her shoulder at Mark. “I know you’ve met Treasury, but you may not know she’s been a second mother to my sisters and me ever since our mother died.”

He pulled Betsy’s rolling bag to a stop and nodded. “You said your studio was here, but I didn’t realize the close tie between the two of you.”

Treasury’s eyes twinkled, and she put her arm around Betsy’s shoulders. “Oh my, yes. Kate, Betsy and Emma are the daughters I never had.” A smile pulled at her lips. “And speaking of Emma, we spent the morning at the beach and had a great time. Kate took her home with her. Emma was really excited that she’s going to help take care of the baby for a few days.”

Betsy’s forehead wrinkled, and Mark detected a brief flicker of fear in her eyes. “Did Kate tell you why?”

“She said the incident at Springer’s Point had upset you, and you were going to stay close to your studio for a few days.” She smiled at Mark. “And that Mr. Webber is going to keep an eye on you to make sure you do.”

Betsy darted a glance at Mark, and he chuckled. “I’ll try to do that, Mrs. Wilkes, but Betsy can be strong-willed at times.”

“Call me Treasury.” With a knowing look she directed a piercing gaze at him. “You sound like you know Betsy.”

Betsy nodded and reached for her suitcase. “Mark and I knew each other when I was in Memphis. I’ll tell you about it later. Now I need to unpack these clothes and do some work on the painting I’m sending to the gallery on the mainland.”

Treasury glanced at the clock above the kitchen stove and tapped her chin. “You’ll have plenty of time to paint before dinner. I’m not cooking for any of my guests tonight. So it’ll just be the three of us. We can eat on the back porch about six o’clock. Is that all right with the two of you?”

Mark frowned and shook his head. “You don’t have to include me in dinner if none of the other guests are eating. I can get something somewhere else.”

Treasury waved her hand in dismissal and chuckled. “Nonsense. If you’re going to watch after my girl, I want you around all the time. I’m sure Betsy does, too.” She glanced at Betsy. “Is that right?”

Mark detected a slight hesitation before Betsy replied. “Of course you should join us, Mark. After all you won’t find better food on the island.”

He stared into Betsy’s eyes and tried to sense a hint of truth in her words, but her stony gaze gave away nothing. After a moment, he nodded. “Okay, ladies. I’ll see you at six. Now, Betsy, I’ll take your bag to your studio if you’ll lead the way.”

Betsy whirled and hurried from the kitchen with him right behind. They didn’t speak as she led him up the stairs and to the room at the end of hall. When she opened the door and stepped inside, he followed and rolled her bag into the room. She motioned toward a spot next to a small bed that sat against one wall.

“You can leave the bag there.”

He placed the bag at the spot she indicated and glanced around the large room. Sunlight poured through two windows and lit the easel sitting in front of them. A computer, sketch pads and several stacks of photographs covered the top of a desk on the opposite wall, but it was the ceramic mug with a Degas painting stamped on it that caught his attention. An assortment of pens and pencils along with a pair of scissors stuck out of the top.

He picked it up and studied the imprinted artwork and glanced at Betsy. “
The Rehearsal
by Edgar Degas. I’ve always liked this painting.”

Her eyes grew wide. “I can’t believe you recognized it.”

Mark chuckled and placed the mug back on the desk. “Contrary to what you might think, Betsy, I graduated from college, and I happened to take some art classes while I was there. Degas is one of my favorite artists. I like the way he conveys movement.” He gave the cup a gentle shake and smiled at the rattle of the pencils and scissors inside. “I wonder what Degas would think about his painting decorating the side of a pencil holder?”

“I can’t believe you’re an art lover.” Betsy tilted her head to one side and arched an eyebrow. “You never mentioned any of that before.”

“I guess I never thought it was important.” He glanced at his watch and headed toward the door. “I’d better go so you can get to work. I’ll see you at dinner.”

He stepped into the hall but stopped when she called out to him. When he turned, he saw she had followed him to the door. She took a deep breath and licked her lips.

“Mark,” she said, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me today. I’m afraid I haven’t been as nice as I could have been. My mother always told me it’s better to guard your words than say something you regret. I hope you’ll forgive me for some of the things I said.”