Blind Betrayal

by Nancy Mehl

  “I agree.”

  “I’m going to get the interested parties on the phone. Are you willing to speak to them? Tell them what you told me, and also explain Al-Saud’s involvement in Warren’s life?”

  “Absolutely. I’d like to save Valerie and these Marshals. It’s my fault they’re in this situation.” He pointed at Owens. “I don’t mean directly. I’m a victim too, but this all began because I made a mistake. Got involved with the wrong people. It’s time to stop Al-Saud. He’s a cancer that feeds on human lives—and he needs to be excised.”

  Owens nodded. “It will take me a few minutes to get set up. Can I get you something? Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

  “Maybe just some water,” Avery said. Owens could see exhaustion combined with determination in his expression. Were they really close to bringing Al-Saud down? But would it be in time to save all the lives that hung in the balance?

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY

  When Casey and Valerie entered the living room where the FBI agents waited, Casey wondered why there weren’t any female agents present, especially considering they were transporting a female witness. Must just be the luck of the draw. The bureau didn’t discriminate.

  “How do you do?” she said, shaking the hands of each agent. “Casey Sloane.”

  “Good to meet you,” one of them said. “I’m Agent Palmer.” He pointed at his colleagues. “This is Agent Barker, Agent Anderson, and Agent Tucker.”

  “We’re really glad you’re here.” She turned to Valerie, whose face was set and determined. “This is Valerie Bennett. She’s the person you’ll be escorting to D.C.”

  “Thanks for the assistance,” Valerie said.

  Agent Palmer nodded at the others, prompting the agents to take out their badges and show them to Valerie.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Casey was pleased they’d taken the time to reassure Valerie, although she was certain E.J. had already checked their IDs.

  “We want to get on the road right away,” Agent Palmer said. “I know it’s late, but we feel it’s unwise to stay in one place for too long.”

  “We understand,” E.J. said. He turned to Casey. “Maybe you should help Valerie get ready to leave.”

  Casey nodded. “Let’s go, Valerie.”

  Valerie didn’t say anything, just followed Casey back to the bedroom where she’d put her bags. As she started gathering her things, Casey quickly phoned the hospital. Someone answered from the nurses’ station outside the ICU, a person she hadn’t spoken to before.

  “I’m sorry, I just came on duty. There’s no one in the waiting room right now. Either Deputy DeLuca went home or he’s somewhere else in the hospital.”

  Casey was certain Tony was still there. She knew he wouldn’t leave the chief’s side. “Could I leave him a message?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tell him Casey called. The FBI has arrived and we’re turning over our . . . package to them. We’ll be home sometime tomorrow. Since it’s so late, we may stay the night here before heading back.”

  There was a pause. Casey assumed the nurse was writing down the message. Sure enough, she read it back verbatim.

  “Yes. Exactly. It’s important he gets this message as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll watch for him. As soon as he shows up, I’ll make sure he knows you called.”

  “Thanks.” Casey ended the call and clicked off her phone. She turned to see Valerie waiting for her. “Everything will be okay now,” she said. “Don’t worry. The FBI will get you safely to D.C.”

  “I wish you and Doug were coming with me.”

  “I do too, but it’s the Feds’ case now. We have to step away.”

  “I . . . I understand, but these guys don’t look very friendly.”

  Valerie’s comment made Casey chuckle. “The FBI tends to take themselves very seriously. It’s par for the course. But it’s also one of the reasons they’re so good. You can trust them. I promise.”

  Valerie searched Casey’s face. “If you say so.”

  “I do. Let’s go.”

  They went back into the living room, where E.J. and Doug waited with the agents. Casey immediately noticed that something was wrong with E.J. He looked tense as his eyes locked on hers. What was going on?

  “The deputies were telling us about your situation,” Agent Palmer said to Valerie, “that your sister is in danger. Why don’t we talk on the way to D.C.? We can certainly help you.” He smiled at her. “You’re doing the right thing, telling us the truth.”

  Valerie’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you. Thank you very much. I’ve been so frightened.”

  “Well, it’s okay now. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.” She turned to smile through her tears at Casey, E.J., and Doug. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Casey said, her gut clenching and unclenching. What was wrong? Valerie put her suitcases down and hugged her.

  Casey looked over Valerie’s shoulder and saw E.J. staring at her. “You’ll be fine,” he said slowly. “Just keep your head down.”

  Immediately, Casey turned Valerie around so that her body was between her and the Feds. At the same time, she pulled her gun. E.J. did the same. Doug looked confused and hesitated a second before reaching for his weapon, but not before the man who called himself Barker pulled his gun and got a shot off. Doug immediately went down. In the next second, Casey took Barker out. The other three men scrambled behind the furniture. E.J. pulled Casey and Valerie through a nearby door that led outside to the dock. A yellow light fixture attached to the side of the house provided meager illumination, giving the area a strange eerie glow.

  “Get to the car!” he yelled at Casey. “Get Valerie out of here. I’ll keep them busy.” He pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Casey, who caught them with one hand while holding on to Valerie and her gun with the other.

  “What’s happening?” Valerie said, her voice high and her eyes wide.

  “These men aren’t with the FBI,” Casey said. “We need to get you to safety.”

  The women ran along a walkway that circled the house. Though Casey was certain it would take them to the garage, she had to step carefully since it was so dark. The last thing she wanted was for either one of them to end up in the water because she missed a step. When they finally reached the front, she held Valerie back while she checked to make sure no one was between them and the door to the garage. She prayed Doug hadn’t locked it. She’d just moved away from the house when the men calling themselves Agents Anderson and Tucker emerged from the shadows, their weapons pointed right at her.

  “Drop it,” Tucker said, a triumphant smile on his face.

  Casey, E.J., and Valerie sat on the couch, guns pointed at them, their own weapons confiscated by the fake Feds. Casey couldn’t help staring at Doug. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned away from them. No movement. No signs of breathing. He looked dead. How could this have happened? Batterson had arranged for the FBI to meet them here. So who were these guys?

  As if reading her mind, E.J. said, “Who are you? What happened to the real FBI?”

  Parker, or whatever his name was, shrugged. “We’re just hired help. We were told to meet you here, pretend to be federal agents, and take you and Ms. Bennett with us. That was the plan, but then you got cute.”

  “How did you know?” Casey asked E.J.

  He gestured at Parker. “His shoes”—he cocked his head toward Anderson—“and . . . that guy’s watch.”

  Casey looked at both Parker and Anderson. “What do you mean?”

  He nodded toward Parker. “Berluti shoes. Almost two thousand dollars.” He pointed at Anderson. “His Rolex goes for around six thousand. Too much for any FBI agent. I should have become suspicious sooner, but their IDs looked authentic. Maybe if I hadn’t been so slow, Doug would be alive.”

  Fighting tears, Casey tried not to look
at Doug again. He was a friend. A good man with a wonderful family. A loving wife and two kids who didn’t know their world had just been shattered to pieces.

  “Shut up,” Parker said. He pulled a phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. When someone answered, he said, “Things went badly here. I’ve lost a man, and one of the deputies is dead. You should know that your head Marshal, the one you thought you killed, is alive. In a hospital in St. Louis.” He listened for a moment. “So what do you want us to do?” After a brief silence he said, “You paid us to transport two people to D.C. Not three.” He listened for a little while but was shaking his head, as if the person on the other end of the line could see him. Finally he took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not gonna kill anyone for you. We already have two bodies here. You better clean this mess up real good and pray it doesn’t come back to us. Either we transport these people the way we planned or we’re outta here. This has gotten too complicated. I’m not interested in getting in any deeper.” Another pause. “Okay. That will work.” He took a small notepad and pen out of his pocket. “Give me the address.” After writing it down, he abruptly ended the call.

  “We gotta take them with us,” he told Anderson. “He’s gonna send someone to take care of them.” He pointed at the two bodies lying on the floor.

  Anderson swore under his breath. “I think we need to walk away. This has turned into something we didn’t bargain for.”

  “I don’t actually remember asking your opinion,” Parker snapped. “We’re going to Pennsylvania, dump these three, get the rest of our money, and take off.” He turned to E.J. and Casey. “You all get to meet the person who hired us.” Then he pointed at Valerie. “And if you want to see your sister alive, you’d better go to D.C. and do whatever you’re supposed to do.”

  The look on his face caused a tickle of fear to run up Casey’s spine.

  “All you had to do was let us take her,” Anderson grumbled. “Your friend woulda lived. Then you had to tell us your boss was still alive. I doubt he’ll stay that way much longer.”

  “You’re blaming us for your mistakes?” E.J. said angrily. “If you’d have actually played your part, we’d be on the way to D.C. now and your own man wouldn’t be lying dead on the floor.” He sighed with frustration. “FBI agents don’t wear expensive shoes and jewelry. Maybe whoever’s paying you will be interested in learning how you blew your assignment.”

  “Look, dude,” Parker said, “we don’t really know anything except what we were hired to do and the little bit we were told. We don’t even know the name of the guy who hired us. He uses a fake name. We got a boatload of money with the promise of even more once we deliver you and her.” He nodded toward Valerie. “Your friends were supposed to be sent home. Clueless until it was too late.” He shrugged. “I think the guy who hired us planned to take you out somehow. An accident or something. But we only care about our part of the operation. After we deliver you, we don’t need to do anything but retire to a beach somewhere.”

  “You’re an idiot,” E.J. said. “I suspect the man who hired you has no intention of letting you live.”

  “Sorry, that won’t work,” Anderson said with a grin. “Good try, though.”

  “So you think they’re going to kill us and let you live? Your benefactor doesn’t have a good track record for leaving people alive who could lead law enforcement right to him. You’re getting ready to meet him face-to-face? I have lint in my pocket worth more than your pathetic lives right now.”

  Anderson blinked a few times as E.J.’s words sunk in, but then his expression hardened again. “Let’s go,” he demanded, waving his gun.

  “And how is your boss going to explain away a dead Deputy U.S. Marshal?” E.J. asked him.

  Anderson shrugged. “Not my problem. He’s had a lot of experience dealing with death. I’m sure he’ll come up with something.”

  E.J. stood. “I’m going to check on my friend before we leave. I guess if you want to shoot me, you can, but it might ruin your boss’s plan to make it look like we died in some accident.” He walked slowly toward Doug’s body. Anderson kept his gun trained on him, but thankfully he didn’t fire. E.J. knelt down and put his fingers on Doug’s neck. After a few seconds, his shoulders slumped and he stood again. He looked at Casey and shook his head.

  Casey blinked away tears and tried to calm herself. Right now she had to concentrate on their witness, yet walking away and leaving Doug lying on the floor tore her to pieces inside. She nodded at E.J., then rose to her feet, pulling Valerie with her. “It’ll be okay,” she said softly to the frightened reporter.

  But was she telling her the truth? Casey wasn’t so certain.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Is everyone on?” Agent Owens asked.

  “I’m here,” Arthur Watson said. The FBI in D.C. had suggested that the Assistant to the Attorney General of the United States be in on the call. So now there were three hookups: Special Agent Norman Huddleston from D.C., Arthur Watson from the Attorney General’s Office, and Acting Chief Deputy U.S. Marshal for the District of Missouri’s U.S. Marshals Office, Tom Monnier. It was one o’clock in the morning, but a situation like this wouldn’t wait for office hours.

  “I’m here,” Monnier said.

  Special Agent Huddleston also acknowledged that he was ready to listen to Martin Avery.

  “Let’s do it this way, gentlemen,” Agent Owens suggested. “Mr. Avery will tell us how he first became involved with Senator Warren, and then with Ali Al-Saud. After that, we’ll take turns with questions. Will that work for all of you?”

  The other three men acknowledged their agreement with the setup. Owens turned to look at Avery, who seemed fairly relaxed. Maybe finally getting the truth out was a relief to a man who’d spent the last several months running for his life.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Avery,” Owens said. “Will you please state your name and confirm that you’re the Martin Avery involved with Champions for the Earth?”

  “Yes,” Avery said clearly. “I helped found the organization ten years ago. Recently we’d been focused on stopping the development of a new oil pipeline in the eastern part of the United States.”

  “Will you tell us how you became involved with Senator Warren?” Owens asked. “And then just bring us up to today—why you turned yourself in.”

  “Sure.” Avery took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “We were targeting plans for the pipeline. Not only did we feel it was detrimental to the earth, there were also concerns about how water in the area would be affected. I was contacted by Senator Warren, who supported our cause and wanted to help. Being the senator from Colorado, it made perfect sense. The pipeline was slated to run through his state. He told me he had financial backers who were willing to donate to support our efforts.”

  “How much money are we talking?” Owens asked.

  “Millions. We were able to buy advertising, send out mailers, keep our people out there protesting. We provided food and lodging, but that was it. No one was getting rich, believe me, but we were receiving a lot of valuable help. And then . . . things got weird.” He paused. “I want to make one thing clear. I still believe the pipeline should be stopped, but—”

  “Maybe you should explain what you mean by things got weird,” Owens interrupted, trying to keep Avery on track.

  “Some of the protestors who showed up had a different agenda. They didn’t want anything to do with us, even though they were supposedly on our side. And they had money. Lots of money. I caught one guy handing out envelopes. I think they were being paid to protest. Then one day a group supporting the pipeline appeared with signs. We had that happen before, and even though we didn’t agree with them, we respected their right to have a different opinion. They always protested peacefully, and we gave them their space.”

  “I remember something about this,” Owens said. “Didn’t a fight break out? Weren’t a lot of people hurt?”

  “Yeah,” Martin said with a sigh. “My
group got blamed for it, except it wasn’t us. These new people went nuts. They beat up some of the people who were supporting the pipeline. And when we tried to step in and stop the violence, they went after us. A guy pulled me aside after it was all over and told me if I ever went up against him and his friends again, I’d regret it. And he wasn’t kidding. Afterward, I went to Senator Warren and told him I was concerned about this group, that they weren’t part of us and they needed to go. Violence wasn’t going to help our cause, only hurt it. I told him about the money exchanging hands and asked him if he knew what was going on.” Avery shook his head slowly. “It’s an understatement to say that his reaction surprised me.”

  “And what was his reaction?” Owens prompted.

  “Anger. Rage. He acted as if I was somehow planning to destroy the environment singlehandedly. I tried to tell him I was just questioning this new group and their tactics. Trying to figure out where they came from. Why someone was giving them money. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t drop my questions and get back to fighting the pipeline, all funds would be cut off for our efforts and that I would be sorry. Really sorry.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I had no idea at the time, but I do now. It was a threat against my life. I didn’t feel it was coming from the senator. There was obviously someone else working behind the scenes. Someone scary.”

  “So what happened next?” Owens asked.

  “That’s when Valerie Bennett, a reporter for a newspaper in St. Louis, contacted me. We were friends in high school, and she wanted to interview me about the pipeline. I gave her the story she requested, the one her paper wanted, but then I started sharing some of my other concerns off the record. I thought maybe together we could figure out what was going on behind the scenes. She began to research some of the donations coming to us through the senator. That’s when the name Ali Al-Saud came up. I had no idea who he was, but Valerie did. He’s a Saudi businessman who makes his money through oil. We’re talking billions of dollars. Some suspect him of funding ISIS, but that’s never been proven. If it turned out to be true, he’d lose all his valuable oil contracts with America. But unfortunately, Al-Saud seems to be coated with Teflon. Accusations thrown at him just slide right off. People with information either won’t talk or simply disappear.”