Fatal Disclosure. Sandra Robbins

to Brock. “I see.”

       The muscle in Scott’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak. After a few seconds he pulled a notepad from his pocket. “Betsy, can you tell us what happened?”

       He wrote as she related the events of the morning. When she’d finished, he flipped the notepad closed. “Brock, do you have any questions for Betsy?”

       Brock, who’d been unusually quiet since he appeared on the scene, shook his head. “I think we need to find out where the shooting occurred. Since Betsy told us where he emerged from the forest, we need to get busy.” He turned to Mark. “Maybe you heard something while you were sightseeing, like what direction the shots came from.”

       Mark nodded. “I don’t know much, but I’ll be glad to help any way I can.”

       Brock gritted his teeth and took a step closer to the body. He bent forward and stared down at the still figure. Arnold Culver, one of the EMTs, rose to his feet. “There’s nothing we can do for this guy, Brock. There’s no identification on the body. In fact there’s nothing in his pockets at all. Even the label has been cut out of his shirt. That seems strange.”

       Brock and Scott exchanged quick glances. “We’ll start checking around the island. Maybe somebody knows him,” Brock said.

       Arnold nodded. “It would be a shame if he has family waiting in some motel.” The EMT rubbed his chin and cocked an eyebrow. “But if he does, it looks like he’d have some kind of identification. At least a driver’s license.”

       “Yeah, it sure does.”

       Arnold shrugged. “Is it okay if we transport him to the health center?”

       Brock stared at the body a moment before he exhaled. “Yeah, go ahead. We’ll stay and look for the murder scene. I’ll stop by the health center when we get back to the village.” He glanced over his shoulder at Betsy. “I saw your bicycle in the parking lot. I’d rather you didn’t ride it back to the village. After all, there’s a murderer somewhere out here. Go back with Arnold and I’ll bring your bike to the station. Okay?”

       She was tempted to ask Mark if he would be going to the station, too. When she glanced at him, a veil descended over his eyes, and she knew she’d been right when she asked if he was undercover again. She had seen that look before. Betsy pulled her attention away from Mark and waited until Arnold and his assistant had finished bagging the body.

       Arnold smiled at her. “Ready to go, Betsy?”

       “Yes.” She glanced one more time at Mark, but he still hadn’t looked at her.

       Brock hooked his thumbs in his service belt and inclined his head toward the forest. “Okay, Mr. Webber, suppose you show us where you were when you heard the shots.”

       Without speaking, Mark headed toward the spot where he’d exited the forest. Brock and Scott followed behind. She stared at Mark’s back a moment, and the memory of his walking away from her once before washed over her. With one last glance in his direction, she jogged after Arnold and his assistant, who had already disappeared down the trail.

       As she hurried to catch up with the EMTs, she thought about the look in Mark’s eyes when he’d first seen her. Was it surprise, or was it something else? Could he possibly have been happy to see her? She frowned and shook her head. Thinking like that could get her in trouble. It had once before.

       Whatever he felt when he first saw her, it had changed in an instant. The old Mark had emerged and brought back all the memories she’d tried to push from her mind. The veiled look had alerted her to what she wished she’d seen when she first met him.

       How she wished she could forget what had happened, but she couldn’t. Even after all these years she still remembered the terror she felt the night two officers escorted her into a police department interrogation room. That fear had turned to anger when Mark walked into the room and advised her it would go easier on her if she told the police everything she knew. Then he walked out the door and left her to face the worst nightmare of her life.

       She’d called out for him to come back that night, but he walked away without a backward glance. Just like he did moments ago when he went with Brock and Scott. Now she only wanted to get away from him as fast as she could.

       Mark was on the hunt, just like before, and he’d once again gone into shutdown mode. She had no idea who he was after, but she knew one thing. He didn’t care who he had to walk all over in the pursuit of justice.

       This time, she was determined it wouldn’t be her.

      * * *

       Mark braced himself for the outburst he knew was coming. They had barely entered the forest before it happened.

       “That’s far enough, Webber.” Brock’s voice brought him to a halt. “What in the world were you thinking?”

       He took a deep breath and stared at the deputies. The branches of a huge tree shaded the three of them, but it didn’t hide the anger on their faces. Both of them glared at him with looks that told him they’d like to punch him in the jaw.

       “I had no idea you were related to Betsy.”

       “Are you serious?” Scott hissed. “The Drug Enforcement Administration gives you an undercover assignment on the island where Betsy grew up, and you don’t think it’s important they know about your connection?”

       He shook his head. “I knew she was from Ocracoke, but I didn’t know for sure she came back here after she graduated from art school. She told 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