Encountering Evil: Dark Horse Guardians Book Two (9 page)

~ Ben ~

Although he didn't want to, he had to admit that Lara was right about Clearwater Farm. It was everything she had described and more. Ben shook Sterling Brown's strong hand and immediately liked the guy. Before looking at the property Ben wanted to get to know the small leather-skinned man who lived there for seventy years. He was a World War II veteran and when he brought them into his library, Ben scrutinized every photo on the wall. In twenty minutes Ben formed a synopsis of the successful life of Sterling Brown. He was a World War II fighter pilot. He flew a P-38 Lockheed Lightening in the Pacific Theater. His code name was Hedge Hog. He married the woman of his dreams in 1943 in a last minute ceremony on the steps of the courthouse before he was hastily deployed. The marriage certificate and wedding photograph hung prominently on the wall along with medals and ribbons and letters of commendation. He and his wife, Mary Ann, raised five children at Clearwater Farm and had wonderful memories to take with them. After the war, he worked for a defense contractor and traveled extensively. Sterling graciously took Ben on a personal tour of the entire property with Lara trailing behind taking photos. After seeing the house, Ben was pleasantly surprised. It needed no work. In fact, the décor was exactly to his liking – simple seashore style. It reminded him of the cottage he owned on Prince Edward Island but much larger.

After touring the property, Ben
was spellbound. With Lara by his side, he exited the wrap-around screened porch and strolled toward the water's edge. He held Lara's hand as they kicked off their shoes and walked along the private sandy beach. Birds were chirping in the sand dunes nearby. A refreshing saltwater breeze had a cooling effect on what had become a sweltering summer day. The feeling of the wet sand and the gentle waves splashing upon the shore brought Ben back to their wedding night on St. John Island, by far the high point of his life. To be able to live here with Lara and raise a family would be like living in a private paradise. If nothing else, this property would certainly increase in value. He stepped into the frigid ocean water for a moment and paused as he stared at the horizon. Memories flooded back. SEAL memories. BUD/S training, Javier Mendoza, Sam Clark, missions where he spent hours on end beneath the waves attaching explosive devices to enemy vessels. The scenes flashed before his mind's eye in the space of a minute. It was as if the sound, smell and feel of the ocean was part of him and would be forever.

Watching Ben, Sterling Brown seemed
able to read his thoughts. The leathery World War II veteran stayed on the screened porch giving Ben time alone with his young wife. Lara was standing beside him now and staring at the horizon, too. "Ben, I sense that you like this place….a lot…." He uttered three words, "I want it." He held the horizon in his gaze for a moment longer then turned to her. It was then he noticed tears in Lara's beautiful green eyes. "Hey, I didn't want to make you
cry
…" His strong arms immediately encircled her. Lara whispered, "I'm crying because I'm happy, Ben. I can't help it."

That sealed the deal for Ben. If this was what she wanted, he would deal with Eliot Stone in his own quiet way. This was the place Lara wanted to call home and it was the place that connected him to everything that made him a SEAL. The ocean, the oversized shingle-style cottage itself, the way the light played upon the landscape…it was all making sense now. He asked Lara to stay on the beach for a moment while he talked with Sterling on the porch. In less than ten minutes the deal was struck. Two million dollars would be wire transferred to Sterling Brown within thirty days. Ben contacted his real estate attorney who would handle all of the details of the closing.

As Ben and Sterling Brown stepped out of the screened porch, Lara was walking toward them. Ben watched as she gracefully moved toward them barefoot in the sand with an innocent look of anticipation on her beautiful face. "Congratulations!" Sterling said as he shook Lara's hand, "You've got yourself a house!" Lara threw her arms around Sterling Brown and hugged him tightly, squealing with delight. Then, she hugged Ben and whispered, "Thank you, love." Sterling Brown walked them to the motorcycle in the driveway. Ben thought he saw a tear in the old man's eye, but wasn't certain. Sterling remarked, "That's a beautiful motorcycle. I was a Harley man myself -- that was many years ago. But, I've got a great appreciation for the Indian." Ben somehow knew that Sterling Brown was happy that Clearwater Farm would belong to him and Lara.

~ Lara ~

Rushing home, Ben had to get ready to fly to Langley. He made a quick salad with chicken and warmed French bread in the oven. As Lara cleaned the kitchen after eating she watched Ben put together his Langley kit…computer, something that detected listening devices, a nice jacket and tie, his personal sidearm which he was cleared to fly with as long as it was unloaded and packed away.
She knew his mind was now elsewhere. He was no longer thinking of anything except what was coming up. At this point he had become a hound on the hunt. He probably had no idea how handsome he was when he had that serious distracted expression on his face. Once he ran through the checklist, he turned to her suddenly realizing she had been studying him all the while. "Oh my darlin' -- don't start worrying already…" there was the Irish brogue. She swore he turned it on to melt her heart.

"I know," Lara gave him a little smile, "Langley is just a strategy session, and a brief one at that. You'll be back tomorrow." Ben was now at her side and she knew he sensed the flood of emotions bubbling beneath her cool exterior. He snuggly embraced her. Her cheek was pressed upon his chest and she listened to his heartbeat for a long moment. Lara was unable to stop the one tear that slid down her cheek. She didn't want Ben to notice. Forcing herself to laugh, she pulled away and playfully slapped him on the rear. "Get going, you'll be late for your flight." She couldn't fall apart in his presence. It would weigh too heavily on him. Ben gave her a long, lingering kiss on the front porch and she waved as he took a cab to the airport. Then she went inside and cried. And, later she talked on the phone with Olivia for a little while. Olivia always seemed to understand.

~ Eric Henderson ~

Tomorrow Lara would be stopping to check on the renovation of his massive blue and purple Victorian home that he purchased a few months earlier. Lately the relationship with Lara had been anything but comfortable. She kept it all business and rarely looked at him while talking. Eight months ago, Eric had almost succeeded in breaking up the romance that developed between Lara and the Lieutenant. But, Ben's ex-wife confided in Lara. At that point, Eric's nasty behavior was laid bare.

Lara said she could
never
forgive him. He wondered if that was true. He now was working in Portland at the biggest investment firm on the East coast. Granted, it was a smaller suburban setting much different than the huge bank in the middle of Boston, but he felt at home in the intimate setting now. Eric was pleased with the hedge fund management position he had. It was his dream job. Being obsessed with making his own portfolio produce income, it only followed logic that he should use those talents to enrich others. His income level shot up to the upper end of six figures. He was the youngest one in his circle of friends with the highest income, but he still was lonely and far from satisfied with his life.

As Eric walked through the enormous home he purchased, he expected Lara would show up with her intern, Monique, tomorrow for the walk-through. The contractors were arriving just as he hopped into the black Infinity to drive to work. He was wracking his brain to think of a way to engage Lara in conversation. Maybe he would ask her about his uncle, Don Henderson. Don had been laid up recently with a back injury and hadn't been at the dojo, one of her favorite hangouts. His cell phone chimed with an appointment reminder: a new client, Ali Farouz, was meeting with him. This client was from Pakistan and had a fortune to invest. Eric tapped his phone and his receptionist answered. "Make sure everything is ready for the visit from Ali Farouz." It was a command, not a request, and he disconnected the call and casually tossed the phone onto his Louis Vuitton briefcase on the seat beside him.

~ Bettencourt ~

With warrant in hand, Officer Randall Bettencourt made a Monday morning visit to the West End home where Lara and Ralph Perkins heard blood curdling screams and witnessed a young Persian woman being beaten within an inch of her life. Two other officers followed in a cruiser behind him. After pounding on the door for what seemed like ten minutes, it finally opened. The small thin man servant asked the officers to please leave the property. Bettencourt explained to the servant that he had a warrant to enter the premises and would do so with or without the permission of the owner. "So, how do you want to do this – the easy way or the hard way?" All six-foot-four inches of Randall Bettencourt stared down at the small man as he nervously whispered, "There is no one here but me." Bettencourt took charge and pushed the door wide open, “Then we will make this quick." He waved the other two officers in and they moved through the open doorway.

The
home of Ali Farouz was an historical brick mansion in the finest neighborhood of the city. Filled with opulent furnishings and handmade Persian rugs, the officers searched for evidence of violence: broken furniture, blood stains and weapons. Swiftly, the officers swept through the first floor and moved to the second. As it turned out, the servant at the door had lied to them. There was
one
person at home and she was locked in an upstairs bedroom. Officer Bettencourt brought the servant to the door and demanded he unlock it. Then, Bettencourt softly encouraged the young woman to step out of the room into the hallway. "I'm Nadia," she whispered as the officer extended his hand to her. She was tall and slender with big brown eyes and long black hair. Dressed in Western clothing, nothing on her person identified her as Middle Eastern. "I'm Officer Bettencourt. Where is your father?" Nadia looked down at the floor. "He's gone but he will be back any moment." Bettencourt noticed she had visible bruises on her face and blood stains on her clothing. The young woman was trembling and he heard the fear in her voice. Bettencourt knew his only chance to interview her without her father's threatening presence would be to get her to the station and fast. Gently, he encouraged her to come with him and take a ride in his cruiser. The other two officers were amazed Bettencourt successfully coaxed her so quickly to leave. He had plenty of practice doing this in Iraq. He was an expert at removing innocent victims from dangerous situations.

Once at the station, Randall Bettencourt brought Nadia to an interrogation room. He gave her a bottle of cold spring water and sat across the table from the shaky young woman. Rebecca Benson, his female side-kick was in the room, too. But Bettencourt was the one asking the questions. "Where did you get the bruises?" he asked her directly. Nadia's eyes darted around the room and her fear was obvious. She was shaking uncontrollably. Bettencourt left the room for a moment and winked at Rebecca Benson signaling her to take over. "Who did this to you?" Nadia looked at Rebecca Benson for a moment and hesitated. "This must stop." Rebecca said softly. "We're here to help you, Nadia."

Finally, the floodgate opened and the girl started talking. She was intelligent and spoke English fluently. "My father is angry. I have a boyfriend and he is American. His name is David. He goes to my school. I have never even kissed David, but my father is accusing me of all sorts of things." Then the sobbing started. More of the story came out. The beatings were severe. Upon a cursory examination, Nadia had several broken ribs and was whipped repeatedly leaving long red marks on her back and legs. She had been punched in the face. Patches of her hair had been ripped out of her scalp. Also, food was being withheld for days on end as punishment. The young woman was emaciated.

When Bettencourt came back, he knew the girl had opened up to Rebecca Benson. It was a cultural thing. Women talked to women. A strange man in a uniform was just another threat. Rebecca signaled to Bettencourt to step into the hallway. They closed the door watching Nadia through a one-way mirror. Bettencourt leaned in, "Did you get her statement?" Rebecca nodded, "Yes. Her father has been beating her. I recorded everything…now what?" Bettencourt's look became determined, "We arrest the son-of-a-bitch. She's only 16 years old. What he is doing is against the law. You can't beat your daughter and starve her. Maybe in his
God-forsaken country it's fine, but not here." Bettencourt put Nadia into the capable hands of Officer Benson and took off with one other officer to arrest Ali Farouz. But the fat Pakistani was nowhere to be found. Bettencourt was frustrated, but glad for the chance to blow off some steam. He drove to his part-time job at the dojo at the end of his shift.

~ Lara ~

As she walked through the front door of the blue and purple Victorian now owned by Eric Henderson, Lara inhaled and exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm the rage that seethed inside her every time she saw his face. She did not fear Eric but she could not let go of the anger that simmered inside her for what he did behind her back for eight long months. She was relieved to discover Eric was at work. Only the contractors were in the house. Lara and Monique walked through the extensive renovation with the lead man, Ralph Perkins. She was making double the profit on this job and paid attention to every tiny detail. She wanted to squeeze Eric Henderson for every dime she could get out of him…
yes it was payback
. But Eric Henderson had it coming. Lara's intern, Monique, had been keeping close financial tabs on the job working with Ralph and sourcing materials with Lara after hours.