Fatal Disclosure (9 page)

“That’s Will Cardwell,” Betsy whispered. “This is one of his beginner classes.”

Will turned and smiled when he spotted her. “Betsy, what are you doing here today?”

She held up the canvas in her hand. “I brought another painting I want to include in the shipment to the mainland.”

“Then put it in the back room with the others. If you decide to send anything else, have it here by Tuesday at noon. The truck will leave on the last ferry of the day on its way to Raleigh.” His gaze landed on Mark, and he stepped forward with his hand extended. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Will Cardwell.”

“I’m Mark Webber, a friend of Betsy’s.” Mark shook the man’s hand.

Will smiled. “Good to meet you, Mark. Are you a visitor to our island?”

“I am. Betsy had told me how beautiful it was, and I decided to see for myself.”

Will’s eyebrows arched, and he stroked his short, gray beard. “So, where do you live?”

“I’m originally from Memphis. I met Betsy when she was in school there. At present I’m living in Raleigh.” He let his gaze wander over the people at the potter’s wheels. “I’ve always wanted to be able to throw a pot. Even took a course in school, but I’m afraid I didn’t show much promise.”

Will laughed and glanced toward his students. “It’s really not as hard as it looks. I’d be glad to show you while you’re on the island.”

Mark shook his head. “I’m more into wood carving. In fact, I used to do a lot of it.”

“You used to do a lot of what?”

He glanced around at Betsy who had re-entered the room and stopped beside him. He waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“He was just telling me he likes wood carving,” Will said.

Betsy’s eyes grew wide. “You never told me that.”

“It’s only a hobby.” Mark’s face grew warm.

Will glanced back at his students and grinned. “It looks like Mary Lou is about to have a meltdown. I’d better check on her.” He nodded to Mark. “It’s good to meet you, Mark. Have Betsy show you around the gallery before you leave. She has some great work on display there. You might even want to buy one.”

Betsy laughed and swatted at Will’s arm. “Don’t put him on the spot, Will. I’m sure Mark would rather spend his money on something besides a painting of mine.”

Will chuckled and turned to leave. He’d only taken a few steps when he whirled and came back. “I just had a thought. Since Mark likes wood carving, you should take him by Luke Butler’s studio. He might really enjoy seeing the decoys Luke carves.”

“Decoys?” The word caught Mark’s attention.

Will nodded. “He’s a master at carving decoys. You wouldn’t believe how many hunters collect hand-carved decoys.”

“I’d like to see some of his work,” Mark said.

Betsy crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you were going to buy me lunch at The Coffee Cup and then pick up Treasury’s list of items at the Island General Store.”

Will laughed and backed away. “You’d better take this girl and get her something to eat. She gets mean when she’s hungry.”

Mark nodded. “I see what you mean. Let’s go, Betsy. We can go to the wood carver’s studio later.”

When they were back in the car, Betsy swiveled in her seat and faced Mark. “Do you really want to go to Luke’s studio now?”

He shook his head and pulled into the street. “No. We can eat first, but it struck me as strange when Will mentioned there’s a man on the island who carves decoys.”

Her frown dissolved into a look of surprise. “The man at Springer’s Point mentioned decoys. Do you think Luke’s decoys could be related to the drug-smuggling ring in some way?”

“I don’t know. Does he ship any to the mainland, or does he sell from his shop?”

“He has several places he sends them. Do you think he might be smuggling drugs inside some of them?”

“It’s possible. I want to see his studio. As soon as we eat, you can take me there.”

Betsy shook her head and stared out the window. “Luke Butler involved in a drug-smuggling ring? I can’t believe it. He’s such a nice man.”

Mark didn’t reply. He was too busy thinking of John’s dying words about decoys and how they weren’t what they seemed. Could he have been talking about Luke Butler’s hand-carved lures that hunters used to attract waterfowl? It was certainly a possibility. Perhaps the pieces of this case’s puzzle would fall into place quicker than he thought.

He darted a glance in Betsy’s direction, and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Her attitude toward him today had shown a big improvement, and he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. The way she’d smiled and joked with him had reminded him of a time when he’d looked forward to seeing her every day. However, they weren’t the same people they were then. He was a man on a mission, and he couldn’t afford to lose sight of why he was here.

* * *

Betsy took a bite of her turkey sandwich and glanced at the customers in The Coffee Cup. There were a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd today. Most of them tourists, no doubt. She wiped her mouth on a napkin and leaned toward Mark. “This place is packed today.”

He swallowed a bite and picked up his glass of iced tea. “I always think of that as a sign of a great place to eat.”

“It is. I come here quite often at lunch. In fact—”

“Well, would you look who’s here, Lizzy? It’s that nice, young couple we met at the British Cemetery yesterday.”

Betsy looked up into the smiling faces of the retired schoolteachers she had talked to the day before. “Hello, ladies. It’s good to see you again.”

Mark pushed his chair back and started to rise, but Miranda shook her head. “Don’t get up. We were just leaving and saw you sitting here. We wanted to say hello again and thank you for your time yesterday.”

“I was glad to share what I know about the cemetery. As I said, it’s something we’re very proud of here on Ocracoke.”

Miranda nodded. “As well you should be.” She glanced down at their food and took Lizzy by the arm. “We don’t need to interrupt this nice young couple’s lunch.”

Betsy shook her head. “You’re not interrupting anything. I’m glad to see you again.”

Miranda smiled. “We really need to be on our way to the General Store. Lizzy dropped her sunglasses this morning and stepped on them before she realized it. She needs to get another pair.” She shook her head and wagged a finger at her friend. “I declare, Lizzy, sometimes I think I was put on this earth just to take care of you.”

Lizzy winked at Betsy. “I think it’s the other way around. She wouldn’t have any idea how to get anywhere if I didn’t lead the way.”

Miranda laughed and looped her arm through her friend’s. “I suppose we take care of each other. We’ve been doing it for a long time.” Miranda pulled Lizzy away from the table. “We hope to see you again before we leave the island.”

Mark smiled. “Have a nice day, ladies. I’m sure we’ll run into you again before you leave.”

“We hope so.” Lizzy turned and followed her friend from the restaurant.

Betsy watch the two step out the door then turned back to Mark just as he shoveled several ketchup-covered French fries in his mouth. She grinned, picked up a napkin and reached across the table to wipe at a spot of ketchup in the corner of his mouth. His body stiffened as she dabbed at the spot.

“You always were a messy eater,” she said, glancing his way. He stared at her without blinking, and too late she realized what she’d done. She pulled her hand back and dropped the napkin on the table. “I’m sorry, Mark. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s all right,” he said, but his voice sounded gruff.

She shook her head. “I guess I got carried away. I’ve enjoyed being with you today, and I guess I let myself think the past doesn’t matter. But it does.”

“Like the night we went to Memphis in May and ate barbecue on the banks of the Mississippi River? And I got sauce all over my face, and you wiped it off with your napkin? I enjoyed that night, Betsy. I don’t want to forget the times like that.”

She shook her head and pushed back from the table. “I don’t want to remember. Maybe in time.” She glanced at his plate. “Finish your meal and meet me outside. I’ll wait for you on the bench by the front door.”

Without waiting for a reply, she headed toward the front door. She’d just put her hand out to open it when he gripped her arm. “You can’t leave,” he growled. “Wait until I pay, and we’ll both get out of here.”

“All right.” She pulled free and waited as he paid the cashier.

They didn’t speak on the way to Mark’s car. He opened the door for her and waited until she climbed in. Then he leaned forward. “No matter how you feel about me, don’t run off like that again. Okay?”

She jerked her seat belt around her and snapped it in place. “Whatever you say. You’re the one in charge.”

A long sigh escaped his lips. “Let’s skip the trip to the wood carver’s studio today. We’ll pick up Treasury’s items, then I’ll take you back to the bed-and-breakfast.”

She nodded, and he closed the door. Betsy clasped her hands in her lap and breathed deeply in hopes of calming her racing heart. She still couldn’t believe she’d reached across and wiped Mark’s mouth. He was right. For a moment she’d felt just like she did the night they’d sat on the Mississippi River bank and eaten barbecue.

The memory of that night still lingered in the back of her mind, and try as she might she’d never been able to forget. Then she’d thought she was falling in love, but that feeling ended a few days later when she found out the truth about the man she thought she knew.

Now she had to be careful not to get drawn back to the good memories. Mark was the same now as then— an undercover agent who had only one thing on his mind. A friendship with her wasn’t part of his plan, and she would do well to keep that in mind.

SEVEN

W
hen Mark stopped the car in the general store parking lot, Betsy jumped out and hurried to the porch. She heard his car door bang shut and knew he was right behind, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she pulled Treasury’s list from her pocket and rushed inside.

Mark followed her up one aisle and down another without speaking as she pulled items from the shelf and dropped them in the basket she’d grabbed just inside the front door. She bit her lip and glanced over the list then turned toward the checkout line.

He ambled up beside her and stood with his hands in his pockets as they waited for Sam Isaacs, the owner of the store and the lone cashier today, to check out three customers in front of them. A giggle from behind caught Betsy’s attention, and she glanced over her shoulder. Lizzy and Miranda stood in line behind them.

“We meet again,” Lizzy gushed.

A smile pulled at Betsy’s lips. “So we do. Did you get your sunglasses?”

Lizzy held up a pair and a copy of
Island Life,
the weekly list of island activities. “I did, and I also picked this up. There are several nighttime events we want to attend.”

Betsy glanced at the brochure, and a thought popped into her head. “I meant to see if the latest issue of
Newsweek
had arrived.” She backed out of the line and turned toward the magazine rack. “Go on in front of me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mark follow her, but she didn’t turn around. They stopped in front of the display, and he reached around her. “Here’s a copy.”

Before she could reply, a woman’s scream pierced the air, and then a man’s shout echoed through the store. “Do as I say,” he yelled, “and I won’t have to hurt this woman.”

Betsy and Mark whirled at the same time. A man in a black ski mask stood behind Lizzy and held a gun to her head. A shorter man in a red mask brandished a gun in the direction of the frightened customers at the checkout counter. Sam, who a moment ago had rung up a customer, stood behind the cash register. His face had drained of color, and his dark eyes bulged with fear.

Lizzy’s mouth gaped open, and she cast a terrified glance at Miranda, who appeared frozen in place. A tremor of fear surged through Betsy, and she glanced up at Mark. “What can we do to help her?”

“Nothing right now.” He put his hand on Betsy’s arm. “Do as they say,” he whispered.

One of the men glanced their way and motioned toward them. “Hey, you two over there by the magazines, join us.”

The basket Betsy held slipped from her hands and tumbled to the floor. Mark put his arm around her waist and guided her toward the men. They stopped a few feet away. “What do you want?” he asked.

The man in the black ski mask tightened his hold on Lizzy and rubbed the barrel of the gun down the side of her face. He nodded to Sam Isaacs. “Open your cash register and empty it into a shopping bag.”

Sam’s hand shook as he punched a key on the register. The drawer slid open, and he began to pull the money out and stuff it in a bag with the store’s logo on the side. The second robber leaned forward. “No checks. Just cash.”

When the bag was full, the man in the red ski mask grabbed it from Sam’s hand and started to back away. His blue eyes, visible through the slits in the mask, flickered as he scanned the customers. His gaze came to rest on Betsy, and she swallowed the taste of nausea flooding her mouth.

The man eased toward her and pointed the gun at her stomach. His gaze drifted from her face to the necklace she wore. He slipped his fingers beneath the pendant, and Betsy flinched at his touch. Next to her, she felt Mark tense.

“Get away from her.” Mark’s words hammered in her ear.

The man pulled his hand back, and the pendant bounced against her neck. He turned his attention to Mark and shoved the gun in his face. “Okay, Mister Wiseguy, let’s see what you’re going to do about it.”

Before Betsy realized what had happened, the man grabbed her around the waist, pulled her against him, and stuck the gun to her head. A whimper rolled from her throat as he pulled her backward. She tried to pull free, but he gripped her tighter.

“Please,” she whispered. She didn’t know if the word was directed to the gunman or Mark.

“Let the old lady go,” he called out to his partner. “We’ll take Mr. Wiseguy’s girlfriend, instead.” He waved his gun toward the huddled customers. “If anyone comes after us, I’ll kill her.”