Encountering Evil: Dark Horse Guardians Book Two (33 page)

The secure phone rang and it was Bettencourt. “Welcome home, Chief. I will swing by if you’re free.” Ben said, “Please do.”
As he was putting the final touch on his office, he noticed Lara had moved some items from his university office to his home and was thankful she had done so. The William Earnest Henley poem,“
Invictus
,” blood-stained and wrinkled was hanging on the wall in a frame that would preserve it. The beheading sword was mounted just beneath it. Whenever he looked at the two items they spurred him on to another mission. He felt he was spared from death for a reason.
There was more that he had to do in this world before leaving it.

Within minutes he heard Lara talking to Bettencourt in the kitchen. Ben ran out to greet his good friend and former Navy SEAL brother. The two men walked to Ben’s newly set-up office but before closing the door, Ben motioned to Lara to join them. She walked in and closed the door softly, “What’s up?” she asked. Ben’s eyes met hers. “I want you to hear this information.” Bettencourt spoke of Nadia and her plans to remain in Rhode Island to finish her senior year of high school. Also, he mentioned Eric Henderson and his criminal involvement with Ali Farouz, and how Farouz was funding the terrorist compounds. Bettencourt’s face became serious and he focused on Ben, “If the SEC gets into this, Henderson will surely be in prison for a number of years. How do you want to handle this, Chief?”

This was Ben’s moment to squash the little bug he knew buzzed around his wife every time he went on a mission. He hated Eric Henderson and all men like him. But he also knew he had to maintain the secrecy surrounding the mission. “Let’s leverage him.” Ben said after thinking for a moment. “Tell him that you will keep him out of prison if he feeds you the information you request.” Ben studied Bettencourt and continued, “For security reasons, I can’t appear to be part of this. Bettencourt nodded, “You tell me what you want for information, Chief, and I’ll get it out of him.”

Ben knew that Eric Henderson was much more valuable to him as an informant than as an inmate’s bitch in prison. Plus, he knew the little bastard would do anything to save himself from such a fate. “Good, I’ll give you a list of items that I want to see, financial records from overseas clients. You can bring him an encrypted USB drive and he can store it on there and give it to you.” As Bettencourt rose to leave, Ben added, “Oh, one more little detail. Make sure that asshole, Eric Henderson, gives you the $300,000 that Ali Farouz gave him as a tip.” That money will be used to resettle the women and children from the compound. In fact, we’ll confiscate as much of Farouz’s fortune as possible to set the women up with small business ventures. These women need something to sustain themselves and their children.” Bettencourt smiled and winked, “Good thinking.”

~Bettencourt~

Before he left, Bettencourt paused to ask Lara how she was feeling. He embraced her with a friendly bear hug and whispered, “He’s home now. Everything will be fine.” In a moment he was in his police cruiser and off to another call. For the past few weeks since Lara had moved to Clearwater Farm, Bettencourt had been cruising along the waterfront neighborhood on the night shift. It was the night of the impromptu picnic. Being a former Navy SEAL and having a naturally curious personality, Bettencourt started parking his cruiser after dark and doing reconnaissance around Lara’s house.

What he discovered shocked and amazed him. The well-heeled playboy, Eliot Stone, was perched in the bushes behind Lara’s house. It was obvious to Bettencourt that Eliot had been watching Lara with binoculars for quite some time. He sat hidden almost motionless outside her bedroom window. Bettencourt sensed the guy was smitten with Lara, but never figured him for a voyeur. He had given serious thought to arresting him on the spot, but realized the powerful rich boy would fight the case and possibly win it. Thus, he wondered what purpose it would serve to arrest him. He also knew he couldn’t tell Ben because he’d most likely strangle Eliot Stone with his bare hands. Eliot left after about two hours and Bettencourt knew he was getting off on the whole scene.
That was the end of it, for
that
night. The officer knew he had to do
something
to stop the creep, and protect Lara.

Bettencourt decided to handle the situation his own way. He
requested a meeting with Eliot Stone at a small grocery market within walking distance from his house. It was a neutral location with space in back that held a few tables and chairs so shoppers could sample the freshly baked goods of the day. The meeting was to take place in five minutes. The cruiser was parked out of sight down the street and Bettencourt strode inside. Most of the people in the small town of Falmouth were now familiar with the tall officer and said hello or nodded. As he sat in the corner, he watched Eliot Stone make his way to the table. Eliot dropped a note on Bettencourt’s table without anyone noticing. Then he placed his bakery order. The note simply said,
Can we meet somewhere else? Everyone knows
me here.
” Bettencourt wrote on the piece of paper, “Community Park in Falmouth” and handed it to Eliot, “I think you dropped this.” He then bought a blueberry muffin, waved goodbye to the patrons in the store and cruised to the park.

Within a few minutes, the white 1956 Bentley pulled behind the cruiser. Eliot Stone climbed out of the Bentley as Bettencourt got out of his cruiser. The two men walked side by side through the huge park, now empty except for a few children on the swings at the playground. Bettencourt could see the sweat forming on Eliot’s upper lip, a sure sign of nervousness. “What’s this all about? Why do you need to see me?” Eliot demanded. Bettencourt stopped walking and looked into
his eyes, “I think you
know
why…”

~Eliot Stone~

Eliot was trying to stop the panicky feeling but he was now sweating and shaking. He knew that it was possible that Bettencourt saw him watching Lara. But was he really breaking the law? He was her neighbor and concerned about her living there all alone in the big house. He had brought a picnic lunch to her the first night she was there alone. They were close friends.

Eliot was sweating because he knew voyeurism was a felony and he’d do anything
not
to suffer the consequences. Attempting to sound calm and composed, Eliot spoke, “Lara and I are good friends. If you are referring to my visits to her home since she moved two doors down from me, then yes, I’m guilty of being a good neighbor and looking out for her.” But he knew what Bettencourt was going to say and the big man said it, “Looking inside her windows at night while she’s undressing…that’s
not
being a good neighbor. That’s against the law.” Eliot felt he had to defend himself immediately, “I never looked inside her window. I merely forgot an item in the dinghy and walked back to retrieve it.” The next sentence out of Bettencourt let Eliot know he had seen everything. “Yes, you retrieved the binoculars. But you didn’t leave. You sat in that patch of raspberry bushes and pleasured yourself while you watched her get ready for bed. That’s a class C felony. You can go to jail for that, Mr. Stone.”

Eliot now felt he was backed into a corner. “Well, if
that’s
the case, why didn’t you arrest me right there?” Bettencourt hesitated. His answer was thoughtful and courteous, “I wanted to talk with you first. You didn’t photograph her or attempt to go inside of the residence. And, I know Lara trusts you and considers you to be a good friend. I didn’t want to hurt her by exposing your sick little fantasy.” Bettencourt now grabbed Eliot’s collar and lifted him off the ground. He pulled Eliot’s face close as he growled, “Look, you little son-of-a-bitch…I
care
about Lara…she’s my friend. I’m going to tell her about this, but pressing charges against you will be up to
her
. I know you’ve got the money to hire the best lawyers and I know you’d worm your way out of it somehow. That’s why I didn’t arrest you! But I’m warning you – stay away from her house. If I tell her husband about this, I can’t be held responsible for what he might do.”

Humiliated, Eliot pulled away from Bettencourt, “Is that a
threat
?” Bettencourt snorted, “No, it’s a promise. Stay away from her residence. It’s private property. And, you’d be wise to stay away from
her
– period. She’s a happily married woman.” With that, Bettencourt walked back to his cruiser, got in and sped away. Eliot stood in the park for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. For a terrifying instant he thought he’d be pummeled by Bettencourt and only his driver would bear witness to the thrashing. But, thank God, that didn’t happen. Eliot was now worried about Bettencourt telling Lara. He had to get to her first. In the Bentley he dialed her number, “Lara, how about meeting me at your office today and we will go over some new potential clients. They’re small projects, but right up your alley.” He listened as her feminine voice said, “Sure, Eliot, what time?”

~Lara~

Life was slowly returning to normal, whatever that was. At least Ben was home and they resumed a semblance of routine as they walked Einstein and prepared meals and enjoyed the last vestiges of summer. Bettencourt had left a message on her cell phone saying he needed to see her. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to talk about and assumed it might be advice about Monique. She knew the two of them were getting serious. As she cruised to the bungalow she remembered Eliot Stone was arriving for lunch. She called the deli two doors down from the bungalow and ordered lunch to be delivered. She returned the call to Bettencourt and his voice came over the speaker in her car. “Hi Lara.” She queried, “What’s up, Bett? If you need to see me, I’ll be at the bungalow in a few minutes. Do you want to meet me there?” He was on duty, but said he’d be there in a jiffy.

Monique was already inside on the phone with a client when Lara arrived and she waved. Contractors came and went pulling forms from a rack hanging on the wall and checking in for items ordered for each project. Lara waited patiently and returned calls to clients as she watched through the window for Bettencourt’s cruiser.

~Eliot Stone~

He had completely forgotten that the Bentley would be in the shop for service and the driver was off for the rest of the day. The Porche 911 turbo was sitting in the garage. Eliot wedged himself into the stylish white sports car and turned the key. A low rumble came from the engine and he put it into first gear and pulled into the roadway. He hadn’t driven for so long he couldn’t remember the last time. Eliot wanted to get to Lara’s bungalow early to catch her
before
Bettencourt did. Shifting the sports car into second, then third, he suddenly felt a rush of freedom. He pushed the Porsche to a higher speed enjoying the exhilaration of driving wondering why he didn’t do it more often. Well over the speed limit, the sports car was built to hug the curves. Now testing the power of the vehicle’s thermodynamic limits, he suddenly heard a strange noise and the Porsche jerked to the left and he lost control.
A flat tire, damn
, Eliot was disappointed. But as his foot hit the brake pedal the vehicle swerved wildly over the double line. He downshifted and braked harder but that caused the car to veer to the right. At a high rate of speed the Porsche tumbled down a steep embankment. Eliot Stone lost consciousness.

~Bettencourt~

Driving his cruiser along the main road in Falmouth Foreside, Bettencourt saw fresh skid marks and his eyes riveted on a small white sports car that had just gone off the road moments before he rounded the bend. He stopped his cruiser and dialed 911. Bettencourt carefully crawled down the rocky embankment to get to the car wondering if the driver was still alive. The white sports car had hit a tree head-on. Smoke and steam was pouring out of the engine
making a hissing sound. There was nothing left of the vehicle. The entire front end was wrapped around the tree. The driver had collided with the steering wheel, the windshield and the tree with great force. A massive amount of blood covered the driver’s face and the dashboard, or what was left of it. Not knowing the identity of the man, Bettencourt’s first instinct was to check his wrist for a pulse. Nothing. Within a few minutes the police and ambulance arrived. One of the officers on the scene yelled, “Hey, don’t move this stuff until the accident reconstruction guys get here.”

The man’s wallet was pulled from the wreckage and when Bettencourt looked at the license inside he was shocked to recognize the driver. Only hours before he had spoken with Eliot Stone and now the man was dead. Bettencourt’s phone rang, it was Lara. “Hey, where are you? I’m here at the bungalow waiting.” Bettencourt somberly whispered, “I’ll be right there. We need to talk.”

~Lara~

Bettencourt sounded ominous on the phone. He was never an hour late, especially if he said he would be there in a jiffy.  His cruiser pulled into the parking lot at the bungalow and he bounded inside, all business-like. Lara was standing in the parlor and the tall officer’s soft brown eyes instantly told her something was wrong. Her knees felt weak as she feared the worst, “Ben? Did something happen to Ben?” Bettencourt came to her side and took her hand in his. “No. It’s Eliot Stone. There’s been an accident.” She wrapped her arms around Bettencourt with a mixture of relief that it wasn’t Ben, but horrified that something happened to Eliot. “What happened?” Lara asked with alarm. Bettencourt gave her the details and Lara felt there had to be some sort of mistake. “He’s so young, in his thirties, how can he be gone?”