Fatal Disclosure (19 page)

She wanted to throw her arms around him and beg him to stay with her, but it would do no good. Mark had always made it clear his job came first. All she could do was accept his choice and learn to live with it.

* * *

Mark sat in a chair next to the dispatcher’s desk at the sheriff’s headquarters on Ocracoke and drained the last drop of coffee from his mug. It had been a long night, and he needed some sleep. He, Brock and Scott had combed the island ever since he’d told them of Betsy’s meeting with Mona, but they had found no evidence of anybody bringing drugs ashore. They had no idea where to look next.

The horn from the departing ferry drifted from the direction of the harbor, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Mona Davis should be on her way to safety.

Lisa, who was the dispatcher on duty, glanced up from her computer and smiled. “Scott called a few minutes ago. He’s bringing some muffins from The Coffee Shop in a little while.”

“Good. Is he planning to go home and get some rest then?”

Lisa shrugged. “I don’t know what my husband and Brock will do. They’ll probably stick around, even though we have two other officers on patrol this morning.”

The door opened, and Scott hurried inside. “Lisa, where’s Brock?”

“He’s out at the wild pony corral. They had some horses get out last night. Why?”

Scott glanced at Mark. “I just watched the ferry leave. Mona Davis wasn’t on board.”

Mark pushed to his feet. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I think we’d better check on her.” He glanced at Lisa. “Call Brock and tell him to meet us at Mona’s house.”

Without waiting for a reply, they ran from the office, jumped in Scott’s squad car and roared toward Mona’s house. They screeched to a stop at the front walk.

Mark frowned. “I don’t like this. Her car is parked exactly where it was when Betsy and I were here last night.”

They jumped from the car and raced to the porch. Scott pounded on the front door. “Mona, are you in there? Open up. It’s Scott Michaels.”

When there was no answer, he glanced at Mark. “Should we go in or wait for Brock?”

“Something may have happened to her. We need to check. Don’t worry—I’ll pay for the door if she’s all right.”

Before Scott could protest, Mark drew his leg back and crashed his foot against the door panels with all his weight behind the force. The door splintered, but his second kick knocked the door off its hinges. Scott pushed the sagging door aside, and they pulled out their guns.

Mark wrapped both hands around his gun and extended his arms in front of him. A deathly silence filled the room. “I don’t hear anything. That noise should have caused some kind of response from anybody inside the house.”

Scott’s fingers tightened on his weapon. “Yeah. That’s what worries me.” He inched forward. “Police!” he yelled. “We’re coming in.”

Scanning the room, Mark eased through the doorway behind Scott into the living room. No light filtered through the closed curtains, giving the room a ghostly appearance. “Mona, are you here?” Mark called out.

“Hello!”

The shrill word ricocheted off the walls and hardwood floors. Mark tightened his grip on his gun and darted a glance at Scott. “Mona,” Scott yelled. “Is that you?”

“Hello!”

Mark pointed to a door standing slightly ajar down the hallway. “It’s coming from there,” he whispered.

Scott took a step, and the floor creaked. The sound sent a chill up Mark’s back. Experience had taught him to never assume anything but be prepared for anything when entering a strange area. They had no idea what awaited them in that room.

Mark flattened himself against the wall and slid toward the door. A sound like someone scratching on wood drifted through the opening. With his gun trained on the door, he took a deep breath and yelled. “This is the police. Come out with your hands up.”

“Come in.”

A bewildered look flash across Scott’s face, and he glanced at Mark. “Ready?”

Mark nodded, inched closer and kicked the door open. It crashed against the bedroom wall, and a picture hanging in the hallway tumbled to the floor. Sweeping his gun in front of him, Mark charged into the room and came to a sudden stop. Scott plowed into his back.

A shrill cry from the corner of the room split the air. “I’m a pretty bird,” the voice called out.

Mark exhaled a long breath and relaxed his grip on the gun. In the dim light, he could make out a large birdcage sitting atop a corner table. He took a step closer and squinted. Inside the cage the biggest parrot he’d ever seen paced back and forth on his perch and eyed them suspiciously.

Scott chuckled and lowered his gun. “That bird nearly scared me to death.”

“Me, too.” Mark reached for the switch on the wall, and light flooded the room. His gaze raked the room, and he sucked in his breath at the sight of Mona lying motionless on the floor in a pool of blood beside the birdcage. “Here she is.” Mark dropped down beside her and felt for a pulse. “She’s still alive. Call for help.”

Mona stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. “Help me,” she whispered.

Mark squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Help is on the way. Can you tell me who did this?”

She licked her lips and frowned. “Mac.” She closed her eyes and gasped. “Caught me about to leave.”

Mark leaned closer. “Stay with me, Mona. The EMTs will be here any minute. Did you tell Mac about Betsy’s visit?”

“Y-yes. He hit me and I fell. That’s all I remember.”

Mark looked up at Scott. “Did you hear that?”

He nodded. “I’ll tell Lisa to alert our deputies to be on the lookout for Mac.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, and Mark turned his attention back to Mona. “Hang on, Mona. They’re almost here.”

There was no response, and Mark bent over her. “She’s still breathing,” he said. At that moment Arnold and his partner rushed into the room.

Mark and Scott backed into the hallway and let the men work on their patient. Minutes later, Arnold appeared in the doorway. “We’re going to transport her to the health center. Doc’s already called for the helicopter. She needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible. That nasty wound in the back of her head appears to have been caused by being struck with something. We’ll know more when we get her to the mainland.”

“Is she going to live?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know,” Arnold said. “I hope so. I’ve worked with Mona for several years. I sure would hate to lose her.”

Scott and Mark waited until the EMTs had left before they reentered the bedroom. Mona’s packed suitcases sat beside the bed, and the nightstand lay on its side on the floor. Scott pointed to the dresser. Several framed photographs lay on the floor beside it. “It looks like a struggle took place in here.”

Mark nodded and leaned closer to examine the corner of the table with the birdcage. Traces of blood covered the edge, and several hairs appeared stuck to the wood. “It looks like she might have hit her head here.” He pointed to the floor beside her body. “Did you see this? It looks like her attacker stepped in the blood and left his footprint.”

Scott bent over and studied it. “Yeah. I’ll take some pictures of this. Then I’ll get some evidence bags and collect some samples. Want to help process this crime scene? I’m afraid we don’t have any hired investigators in our county to do it for us.”

Mark chuckled. “Glad to help… I’ve done it lots of times before. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to call Betsy first. She’ll be upset if she hears about Mona from somebody else.”

He stepped into the living room, punched in Betsy’s number, and waited for her to answer. “Hello,” she said.

Mark smiled at the groggy sound of her voice. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I was awake, but I haven’t had my coffee yet. Did you find the drugs?”

“No, but there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

She listened while he told her of the recent events. When he’d finished, he heard a soft sob. “This is all my fault. I should never have gone to her house.”

“I’m sorry about Mona, too, but this isn’t your fault. Because of you, we now know where we need to look. As soon as Mac is picked up, we may be able to get to the bottom of this whole case.”

“I hope so. I want it to be over…and I want Mona to be all right.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and his heart lurched. If only there was something he could do to make her feel better. “Hey,” he said. “You didn’t tell me Mona had a parrot.”

“Oh, yeah. She keeps it in her bedroom. I didn’t see it last night.”

He chuckled. “Well, Scott and I saw it.”

By the time he had finished the story of how he and Scott had almost shot an innocent bird, she was giggling uncontrollably. The sound of it made him smile. She gasped for breath. “Oh, Mark, I can hardly wait to tease Scott about this. Mona would never have forgiven you if you’d killed Pedro.” Then she paused, and when she spoke again, her tone was once more serious. “That is if Mona lives. I hope she does.”

“So do I. All we can do now is pray.”

She didn’t reply right away. When she spoke, he detected a hint of surprise in her words. “Will you pray, Mark?”

Only then did he realize what he’d said and how natural it had seemed. “I’ve been thinking ever since we went to Raleigh. You and Laura think praying works for you. If it does, I need to give it a try. I want to know more about the peace both of you find in your faith. Will you help me, Betsy?”

“I will. Nothing would make me happier, and I’m sure it would Laura, too.”

“Then we’ll talk later. Until I get back to Treasury’s, though, I want you to stay there. Don’t go anywhere. Okay?”

“Okay, Mark. I’ll see you later, and be careful.”

“I will,” he whispered and disconnected the call.

He stared at the phone and thought about everything that had happened since he arrived on Ocracoke. John’s death, the attempts on Betsy’s life and now the attack on Mona had taken a toll on him. But nothing had affected him as much as hearing Betsy and his sister talk about their faith. If it worked for the two women he loved most in the world, then he wanted it, too.

He walked out the front door of Mona’s house into the yard and stared up at the sky. A few dark clouds, threatening rain, dotted the horizon. “God, most of the time I feel like those clouds. Like a storm’s brewing in my body. But I don’t want to feel that way anymore. Do You really care about me? If You do, help me find peace,” he prayed.

His eyes closed. The wind had grown stronger, and it blew the scent of the roses planted beside Mona’s house in his direction. It was as if the flowers spread their sweet aroma through his soul and left him feeling at peace with himself and the world. The picture of his parents’ lifeless bodies rose up in his mind, but he felt no anger. Instead he remembered how they’d told Laura and him how much they loved them before they left that fateful morning.

That was what he needed to hold on to. Not the violence that took them from him. For the first time since he was twelve years old, he knew he could now face their deaths and embrace a new life like Laura had spoken about. Most of all, he wanted Betsy to be a part of that life. He had to convince her to give him a chance to prove how much he loved her. Then maybe she would love him, too.

FOURTEEN

M
ark paced back and forth in the break room of the Ocracoke sheriff’s office. He wished he could be in Brock’s office right now helping interrogate Mac Cody, but he couldn’t. As far as he knew, the drug gang on the island still hadn’t figured out he was an undercover officer, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Waiting hadn’t been easy, though. From time to time one of them would open the door and peek into the break room to inform him of what was going on with Mac. So far, he’d insisted he’d spent the night at a friend’s house and hadn’t been to Mona’s house this morning.

The door opened, and Lisa walked into the room. “I thought I’d check on the coffeepot. I can’t let it get empty or Scott has a fit.”

Mark nodded. “I poured the last cup a little while ago. I should have made some more.”

She waved her hand in protest. “No, I don’t mind. Besides, it looks like we may be here a long time. Mac’s not talking, and Brock’s determined to make him.” She sighed and glanced at her watch. “None of you ate any lunch, and I know you have to be hungry. I need to run to the Sandwich Shop and pick us up some food before the storm hits.”

Mark walked to the window and looked out. Even though it was early afternoon, the sky already looked dark. “I saw the clouds earlier. Have they gotten closer?”

“Oh, yeah. We have bad storm warnings out. This one is moving westward, and they’re predicting high tides on the Pamlico Sound side of the island. A lot of the tourists are leaving. The line for the ferry that just left was long. I expect we’ll see an even longer line at four o’clock when the last one for the day leaves.”

His stomach growled, and he grinned. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought. A hamburger would hit the spot. Thanks for thinking of me, Lisa.”

She smiled. “I take care of all the guys around here. Happy to add one more.” She glanced over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “By the way, Doc called. Mona’s in intensive care at the mainland hospital. She has a bad concussion, and some bleeding around her brain. But she’s holding her own.”

“That’s a little good news. Maybe it’ll get better.”

Lisa closed the door, and he walked back to the window. If the dark clouds in the distance and the wind rustling the leaves on the trees were any indication, they were in for a downpour. He strode to a television across the room and scrolled through the channels until he found a station devoted to weather. The news for the eastern seaboard focused on the approaching storm, and he settled on the couch to watch.

According to the announcers, the severest part of the storm was tracking straight up the Pamlico Sound and should arrive on the island in a few hours. He glanced at his watch and thought of what Lisa had said about the lines for the last ferry. He wondered if the smugglers would be in the vehicles waiting to board at four o’clock. They might very well be if Mac didn’t break soon and tell them where the drugs were hidden.