Blind Betrayal

by Nancy Mehl

  “So America pursuing its own oil pipelines would put a crimp in his livelihood?”

  “More than a crimp. It could decimate him. Right now we have a president who is fully behind making America energy independent, and he’s moving quickly. You can see why Al-Saud felt the need to come up with a plan to help people like me delay or stop any and all pipelines.”

  “This is interesting, but where’s your proof?” Owens asked, frowning.

  Avery cleared his throat. Owens could see that he was starting to get nervous. “Valerie tried to get into Al-Saud’s and Warren’s financial records. She believed we could find evidence of collusion. But we never had time to search as thoroughly as we wanted to. Maybe there’s something there, but I can’t be certain. I haven’t talked to her in months.”

  Even though Owens had asked that the others on the line hold their questions until the end, he heard the agent in Washington swear loudly.

  “If Al-Saud had any suspicions you looked at those records,” he said, “they’re probably gone by now.”

  Owens saw the color fade from Martin’s face. “I’m sure you’re right. That means the only things we have left are our phones—and our word. You can certainly read the texts on my phone. I’ve got it with me, and I kept every exchange we ever had.”

  “That’s not enough to put Al-Saud away,” Owens said. “Frankly, I don’t quite understand why Washington called Ms. Bennett to testify before the grand jury.”

  “She is being asked to testify so we can determine if she has any evidence,” Arthur Watson replied. “There’s really no way to know that ahead of time. Now with the death of Senator Warren . . . well, I’m not sure that grand jury will be called after all.”

  There was silence for several seconds. Owens suspected they were each wondering if Valerie Bennett was still alive. And if she was, how much longer that would hold true.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  It took a while for them to prepare to leave. Casey, Valerie, and E.J. were thoroughly searched. All phones were taken from them and turned off, then tossed into a tote bag. They forced everyone to use the bathroom, warning them that once they were in the car, there wouldn’t be any stopping. E.J. couldn’t shake how weird it felt, almost like they were getting ready to take a family vacation. But their final destination wasn’t going to be fun, he was certain of that.

  When they finally got ready to leave the house, it was almost three in the morning. E.J. kept turning over scenarios in his mind, trying to find a way to escape from their kidnappers. He knew they had to break free, otherwise he and Casey would probably die.

  Once they were outside, the man calling himself Anderson led Valerie over to their SUV and pushed her inside. He got behind the wheel while Palmer climbed into the front passenger seat. E.J. and Casey watched as Valerie buckled her seat belt, her eyes fixed on them. E.J. gave her a quick nod, hoping to reassure her, but he wasn’t sure how much it helped. At that moment, unless backup arrived pretty quick, they were all in a lot of trouble.

  “You two get in the other car,” Tucker ordered. He pointed his gun at Casey. “You drive. And you,” he said, gesturing toward E.J., “get in the back. I’ll have this gun on her the entire time. Either one of you tries something, I’ll shoot her. We don’t want to kill anyone, but if you don’t behave, we won’t have a choice. No matter what, we intend to get the rest of our money.”

  “But you won’t kill Valerie . . . Ms. Bennett,” Casey said. “That would make it tough for her to testify, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t get paid.”

  He grinned. “You’re right. But we can do other things to her. Things that won’t keep her from the courtroom. Things that will make her wish we’d shoot her. You got it?”

  Casey glared at him, but she nodded.

  E.J. wanted nothing more than a few minutes alone with Tucker. He had a few ideas of his own that would have him wishing for death.

  They both got in the car, Casey behind the wheel. Casey fastened her seat belt while Tucker kept his promise, his gun trained on her. E.J. could see her fingers tremble. It was hard to shake Casey Sloane, but this dirtbag had done it. E.J. knew her well, though. He knew she’d rally, control her anger, and do everything she could to find a way out of this mess.

  The door next to him swung open, and Palmer stood there, holding a pair of handcuffs. “Just for insurance,” he said. “But first buckle your seat belt.”

  With his seat belt fastened and his hands in cuffs, it would be difficult for him to overtake Tucker—but not impossible. Reluctantly he fastened the belt. Palmer reached over and pulled it tight, then told E.J. to hold his hands out. If Tucker didn’t have his gun pointing at Casey, he would have taken that moment to go for Palmer’s gun. But it was too risky, so he stuck his hands out and the cuffs were slapped on his wrists.

  “Now, you be a good boy,” Palmer said, his smile more of a sneer. “If you’re nice, maybe you’ll make it to your destination with all your bones intact. You can hope for that anyway.”

  He and Tucker laughed. E.J. found their lack of empathy for others especially chilling. How did human beings get this cold-blooded? It was something he would probably never understand.

  Palmer slammed the door shut. Tucker hit the lock button next to him. As E.J. listened to the locks click, he hoped they didn’t signal the end of the line for him and Casey. He had one ace in the hole. One hope of getting help, but he had no idea if it would work out. Time would tell.

  “Okay, let’s get back to your story,” Owens said to Martin. “What happened next?”

  “Well, Valerie and I had been texting each other. Talking about Al-Saud and trying to decide what to do. Then one day I came home to find my apartment ransacked. Whoever broke in was looking for something. I have no idea what they wanted.”

  Owens grunted. “Maybe they were afraid you’d found the records you were looking for. They were probably ordered to make certain those records never saw the light of day. I suspect your phone was tapped.”

  “Not only that,” Martin went on, “I believe they cloned it. One day I was in my favorite coffee shop near the protest site. I left my phone on the table next to my backpack when I went to get my coffee from the barista counter. When I got back, the phone had been moved. Just a little, but I knew it wasn’t in the same spot. I asked several people if they’d seen anyone hanging around my table, but no one had. Everyone was so busy looking at their own phones and laptops, they didn’t notice anything unusual. I think someone downloaded my information. I know there are devices that can do that.”

  “What happened next?” Owens asked.

  “Right after I left the coffee shop I noticed two men following me. It certainly made me nervous. One man in particular turned up almost every place I went. I took his picture once and sent it to Valerie. She had a friend in law enforcement who investigated. Maybe he used facial recognition software, I don’t know. Anyway, this is the first time Ms. Bennett uncovered the identity of a man named Benyamin Mattan. The story is that his father was a longtime Al-Saud operative. But Valerie discovered something else very interesting about Ben. She believes he is actually Al-Saud’s son. Al-Saud certainly treats Mattan like the next in line. He’s involved in almost every aspect of Al-Saud’s dealings. They call him Al-Saud’s shadow.”

  “Excuse me, Agent Owens. It’s Tom Monnier in St. Louis. Mr. Avery, can you describe this guy?”

  “Well, he’s got black hair. Dark eyes. Medium build. The most recognizable thing about him is the large scar across one side of his face. The story is that he got it when his wife attacked him with a knife. Needless to say, she hasn’t been seen in years. Mattan and Al-Saud have little respect for women.”

  “I want to make sure I heard you correctly,” Tom said. “Did you say he has a scar across his face?”

  “Can’t you hold your questions until Mr. Avery is finished, Mr. Monnier?”

  “Not this one. Chief Batterson was attacked by someone with a scarred face. I think it�
��s the same guy.”

  “Can you tell me a little more about what happened?” Martin asked.

  “Someone using an ID belonging to one of our deputies got inside our building. By the time we realized that deputy wasn’t in town, the intruder was gone. We started evacuating the building, but before everyone got out, a bomb went off. Several people were killed, and our boss, Richard Batterson, was injured. Suspecting the explosion might be connected to Ms. Bennett, he told two of his deputies to go off the grid and get her to D.C. as quickly as possible. We assumed he’d called the FBI to pick up our witness. We found out later he never got the chance to contact the Feds. Someone hit him over the head and injected him with epinephrine. We’re certain his intention was to kill Batterson but make it look as if he died from his injuries from the blast. It almost worked, only our boss is a little too stubborn for that. As I said, when he woke up from surgery, he mentioned that the man who attacked him had a large scar on his face.”

  “I’m certain it was Ben Mattan,” Martin said. There was a short pause. “Do you have any idea where your people are?”

  “Not yet,” Tom said slowly. “We’re looking for them, but we still don’t have a confirmed location. However, we do know how Mattan and Al-Saud have been getting their information. Valerie Bennett has been in contact with them this entire time.”

  Avery shook his head. “I’d tell you I’m surprised, but I’m not. As I told you, he probably has her sister—or someone in her family. Threatening loved ones is his M.O.”

  “We’re investigating that now,” Agent Owens said. “We’re checking to see if the sister is missing.”

  “I hope you find her,” Martin said. “Mattan has a lot of operatives—everywhere. Most of them have never had direct contact with Mattan, and they don’t know each other. It’s why they’re so hard to find. He’s got a perfect network behind him. No one knows anyone else, and when any of his operatives learn too much, he has them killed.”

  “All right,” Owens said. “Let’s hold any further questions for a while and let Mr. Avery continue his testimony.” He cleared his throat. “So, what happened after your phone was tampered with?”

  “Valerie started getting threatening messages from my number. That confirmed my suspicion about someone accessing it. She was told to get away from me, that I wouldn’t live long, and if Valerie wanted to survive, she’d shut up about what we’d learned. Then one night when I got home, Mattan was waiting for me. He grabbed me and threw me into the trunk of his car. We ended up in Pennsylvania, where I managed to get away. Mattan followed me with a gun. I thought I was dead. But then like I told you, a homeless guy found me hiding under some trash next to a dumpster. I could hardly believe I’d lost Mattan. I still have no idea what happened, but I was smart enough to know that the next time I might not be so lucky. That’s when I knew I had to take off. I’d already packed some things and left them with a friend. I went to retrieve my stuff, and then I left the state. Never contacted Valerie again. I didn’t want to risk it. Not long after that, she called the authorities. They asked her to testify. I suspect her sister was taken shortly after she made that call. Mattan has probably been terrorizing her ever since.”

  “And you came out of hiding because Senator Warren took his life?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much do you think the senator actually knew?” Tom asked.

  “Everything. Remember all the money Al-Saud funneled through him? I’m sure not all of it went to environmental causes. I’ll bet a lot of that money found its way into the senator’s pockets. Between that and the threats toward his ex-wife, Al-Saud owned him. Warren would have sacrificed me in a minute to keep his money and his ex-wife.”

  “So you think you’re safer now? With Warren dead?”

  “I assume so. Having a U.S. senator call me a liar pretty well stripped me of my chance to get anyone to believe me. Now it’s just me and Al-Saud. I would hope that gives me a better chance of being taken seriously.”

  Owens asked if anyone else had questions for Mr. Avery. As Martin tried to respond to every query, mostly to points he’d already covered, Agent Owens was already looking for Susan Bennett.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  Tom Monnier walked into the ICU waiting room. He looked frazzled, his hair sticking up and his eyes red. Tony had a feeling that if he caught his own image in a mirror, he and Tom would be twins.

  Tom came over and slumped down in a chair next to him. “Well, this has been quite a night.” He frowned at Tony. “One thing I don’t understand—the chief calling his girlfriend before the FBI. That doesn’t sound like the Richard Batterson I know.”

  Tony shook his head slowly. “I know, but that’s what he told me. He never made that call to the FBI. I’ve never known him to put people before his job, but for some reason he felt calling Karen was . . . something he had to do. I’m sure he was worried about Marlon too and knew Karen would make sure to tell him Batterson had survived. He’s never been a father before. I think he was trying to do the right thing. The responsible thing. To be fair, he had no idea he wouldn’t get the chance to make that next call.” Tony studied Tom for a moment. “If you’d been in the building when it blew, who would you call first? Your wife and kids? Or would you jump on tracking the bomber?”

  Tom hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’d call Vickie and my boys to let them know I was okay. To think they’d spend even a minute thinking I might be dead . . .”

  Tony shrugged. “Seems our boss was in the same mind-set, Tom. I’m sure the call was quick, and I’m certain his next call was going to be to the Feds. He just didn’t get the chance to make it.”

  “So the paramedic who gave him the phone in the first place was the one who tried to kill him?”

  “Yeah. My guess is he wanted the chief to make the first call so he’d know how to track our people. But maybe the last thing he wanted was for Batterson to reach the FBI. He made sure that didn’t happen.”

  “Actually, I don’t think that had anything to do with it. I just spent time talking with the FBI and Martin Avery.”

  “Martin Avery?” Tony was shocked to hear Avery’s name. “I thought he was missing. Presumed dead.”

  “You’re right. But he’s not dead. He was kidnapped by one of Al-Saud’s henchmen, Benyamin Mattan. Somehow Avery got away. Went into hiding. After talking to him, my gut tells me that Batterson was a definite target.”

  “But why? What did they think that would accomplish?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but I found out something that helps to explain things a little. Mattan has a large scar on his face.”

  Tony’s mouth dropped open. “So he was the person who attacked the chief.” He turned to stare at Tom. “Maintenance man. I’ve got it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember I told you that Batterson said something about a maintenance man?”

  “No. I remember you said he mumbled something you couldn’t understand.”

  “He said maintenance man, Tom. I’m sure of it.”

  “And?”

  Tony sighed. Tom must be tired. “This guy, Mattan, he was dressed like a paramedic. He hit the chief and gave him a shot of epinephrine, tried to kill him.”

  “We already know that.”

  “But I know why now. He’s the one who planted the bomb. Batterson saw him. That’s why Mattan decided he had to die.”

  “How do you know Mattan set the bomb?”

  “Because Batterson said the bomber had a big scar on his face. Mattan got into our building by checking in as one of our new deputies. Then he changed clothes, became the maintenance man. He was getting ready to set the bomb when somehow he ran into Batterson. Maybe Mattan was afraid he’d remember him. That’s why he followed the chief and tried to kill him. Maybe he never intended to put the bomb by the chief’s office. Who knows? But once he realized that Batterson could identify him, Mattan decided to get rid of him. When the bomb didn’
t get him, Mattan took things into his own hands.”

  “He killed a paramedic so he could get his uniform and gear . . .”

  “Right. Then he approached Batterson, planning to make sure he died this time.”

  “But why go through all that? The chief was behind a wall. No one would have seen Mattan kill him.”

  Tony shook his head. “Mark talked to an officer who said the chief was out in plain sight. This is before the attack. Mattan had to do something, but he couldn’t draw attention to himself. I have no idea how the chief ended up behind the wall, yet it’s exactly what Mattan was waiting for. Then shortly after that, our witness and our deputies take off for D.C. Batterson wanted to keep them safe, although they actually became more vulnerable without backup.”

  “But they were going anyway.” Tom pressed his temples with his index fingers. “Something still isn’t adding up.”

  “Well, they were going to fly. That would have narrowed Mattan’s window of opportunity.” Tony slapped his forehead. “Of course. Mattan let the chief use his phone. He knew he didn’t call the FBI, so he set up the fake FBI. It had to be him.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe he didn’t want Bennett and our deputies to get too chummy. It’s possible she might have told them everything. Al-Saud . . . or Mattan couldn’t afford to let anyone unmask their schemes. He needed to make sure Valerie Bennett stuck to the plan. People respect the FBI. Assume they can help them, trust them.”

  “Could be.” Tom ran his hands over his face. “So now fake FBI agents have our witness and our deputies, and we still don’t know where they are.” He leaned back in his chair. “I wonder if our people know these guys aren’t the real deal. Casey and Doug are sharp. I can’t imagine they’d be fooled for very long.”