me she wanted to live in New York.” He glanced at Brock. “When I met with you at Sheriff Baxter’s office on the mainland, I had no clue you were related to Betsy. And you, Scott, weren’t even there. If you had been, I probably wouldn’t have made the connection. I didn’t even know Betsy had a brother.”
Scott took a step closer to Mark. “I know all about Betsy’s experience with an undercover police officer in Memphis. If we had known it was you, we would have told Sheriff Baxter to send you back to Raleigh.”
“Well, I’m here now, and you’ll have to make the best of it,” Mark countered.
Scott clenched his fists. “I’m warning you, Webber. Watch your step around my sister. Understand?”
Brock laid a restraining hand on Scott’s arm. “I suppose there’s no use arguing about it now. We’ve got bigger problems. The murdered guy back there is John Draper. He’s been working undercover for several months here. He must have found out something that got him killed. Do you have any idea what it could be?”
Mark shook his head. “All I know is I was assigned to take over the investigation here. Draper was supposed to leave on the noon ferry today. I received instructions to rendezvous with him at Springer’s Point this morning. He had something to give me. When I arrived, he was dead.”
Brock pulled off his sunglasses and stuck them in his shirt pocket. “Do you have any idea what he had for you?”
“No. My message just said he’d made a big discovery that could blow the case open, and I was to meet him here. But according to the EMTs he didn’t have anything in his pockets.”
Brock’s forehead wrinkled. “Do you think he could have hidden it somewhere?”
Mark shrugged. “I don’t know.” His heart pounded at a sudden thought. “I wonder if he could have said anything to Betsy. Maybe something that didn’t seem important at the time.”
“That’s a possibility. We’ll see if she remembers anything.” Brock sighed and stared into the forest. “Before we do, let’s see if we can find the spot where he was shot. Could you tell where the sound came from?”
Mark pointed deeper into the forest. “This way. I was on the trail when I heard the gunfire and ran into the trees. I didn’t see anyone until I found Betsy bending over him.”
“Then let’s try straight ahead,” Brock said.
A sudden thought popped into Mark’s head, and his eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute. Whoever shot John must have followed him when he stumbled out of the forest. What if they saw Betsy? She could be in danger. We need to question her to see if there’s something she saw that may be related to John’s death.”
Scott’s mouth tightened. “I don’t want my sister to be dragged into the middle of an undercover drug sting.”
“And neither do I,” Brock added.
“I understand.” It was evident the two deputies were very protective of her, and Mark didn’t blame them.
His friendship with Betsy had died years ago, and there was no point in thinking it could be recovered. He’d tried over and over to explain what had happened, but she wouldn’t answer his phone calls or emails. Then when he’d worked up his courage, he’d finally gone to her apartment to beg her forgiveness. That gesture had earned him a door slammed in his face.
Only then did he give up. Betsy hated him and would never forgive him. He’d accepted what he couldn’t change. Or had he? Maybe when he’d received this assignment, he’d secretly hoped she might be on Ocracoke.
He gritted his teeth and shook his head. Forget that idea and concentrate on the job. A DEA agent had been murdered, and Betsy had been the last person to see him alive. She might have information that would be helpful in catching a killer. That’s all he wanted from her. Nothing more.
He had two goals—catch John’s killer and bring down a drug-smuggling ring. When that was accomplished, he’d be off this island and out of Betsy Michaels’s life for good.
TWO
Betsy stopped pacing the floor of the small office in the Ocracoke Sheriff’s Department and glanced at her watch. “What’s keeping them? They should have been here an hour ago.”
Lisa, the department dispatcher and Scott’s recent bride, looked up from her computer screen and smiled. “They’ll be here as soon as they’re finished at Springer’s Point. When Scott called in, he said they thought they’d found the spot where the man was shot. They’re looking for any evidence left at the scene.”
Betsy sank down in a chair by her sister-in-law’s desk and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Lisa, it was awful. That poor man. He died right beside me and I don’t know who he is or where he’s from.”
“I’m sure Brock and Scott will be able to tell us more when they get here.” Lisa reached out and patted Betsy’s shoulder before she directed her gaze back to the computer.
Betsy twisted in her chair and propped her elbows on Lisa’s desk. “Did Scott say anything about Mark Webber when he called in?”
A frown creased Lisa’s forehead, but she didn’t pull her attention from her computer. “Like what?”
“Like whether or not he’s coming back to the station with them?”
“No, but with him being a witness, too, they’ll probably bring him back.”
Betsy slumped in her chair and crossed her arms. “That’s what I thought.”
Lisa stopped typing, her fingers hovering over the computer keyboard, and stared at Betsy. “You sound like you don’t want to see him.”
Betsy’s face grew warm, and she blew at a stray lock of hair that dangled on her forehead. “I thought I’d seen him for the last time, and then he shows up again.”
Lisa tilted her head to the side and frowned. “I don’t understand. Had you met him before today?”
Betsy grunted and scooted down farther in her chair. “Oh, yeah.”
“But when? I’ve never heard you talk about anyone named Mark Webber.”
Betsy sighed and straightened. “I met Mark when I was in art school in Memphis. I worked part-time as a hostess at a restaurant, and Mark was a waiter there.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember Kate talking about your job. She showed me some pictures she took of the restaurant when she visited you once.”
“It was a great place to work, and the job was just what I needed, especially after I got that letter from Kevin saying he’d changed his mind about marrying me. He’d fallen in love with Sherry Kincaid, the girl who hated me all through school.”
Lisa pushed her computer keyboard out of the way and crossed her arms on top of the desk. “Yeah, he was a jerk. But I always thought he wasn’t good enough for you. He might have been the star athlete when we were in school, but look at him now. He can’t keep a steady job, and he and Sherry have three kids to feed. I’ll bet
