Harbour Falls (35 page)

Ami remained quiet but then said in a soft voice, “Actually I may be able to help you. But it’s too dangerous to talk over the phone. We should meet in person.”

“Fine, when?”

“I can make it over to the island in an hour. Meet me at the dock at one o’clock.”

After I agreed, we ended the call. I didn’t have much time. I wanted to tell Adam what was going on, so I tried his cell. But it went straight to voicemail. I thought about leaving a message, but there was too much to tell, so I just disconnected.

How could Ami possibly help? What did she know? These were the thoughts that occupied my mind as I finished my coffee, rinsed out the cup, grabbed my jacket.
Shit!
I suddenly remembered my Lexus was down at the dock. Since we’d taken Adam’s speedboat and docked on the northern end of the island, I hadn’t even considered my car. But when I opened the front door, resigned that I’d have to walk all the way down to the dock, I got quite the surprise. The Lexus was in the driveway. Adam must have had Nate or Max return it to the cottage sometime within the past twenty-four hours. In any case I was just thankful it was there, so I hurried out, hopped into the car, and turned the key that was still in the ignition.

The drive down to the dock took no time at all. I passed the café, but it was still closed. It was Tuesday, the day Helena was supposed to return to the island.
She should be back by now
, I thought,
opening the café for business
. Maybe she’d gotten tied up in Harbour Falls. I hated that I’d lied to her about my real reason for having been in Harbourtown, but I wondered if my remorse would really matter to her.

Detective Mitchell had informed me that the young officer had indeed found Helena waiting for me at the restaurant. But he hadn’t divulged what her reaction had been when she’d been told why I wouldn’t be meeting her for lunch. Had she been angry with me for lying? Or mad that I’d involved her in my mess? Surely she had to be wondering why I’d been at Billy’s. All the players in the Harbour Falls Mystery knew the significance of that place, so it was a certainty she’d put two and two together. Writing a book about the mystery had fallen off my priority list, but solving it was still at the top. Yeah, Helena was no fool, and she’d soon realize why I’d come to Fade Island. I just hoped she could forgive me when she did.

It was after one when I pulled into the parking lot down by the dock. The ferry was just coming in—fifteen minutes late—when I got out of the Lexus. Odd, since the ferries were quite punctual despite the motley crew that operated them.

I squinted into the glare from the sun to see if Ami was on board. But I frowned when I caught sight of the pilot instead. J.T. O’Brien. Ugh, why did it have to be him? I’d been hoping for Brody to be the one piloting the one o’clock ferry.

The possibility of a connection between Jimmy’s demise and J.T. made my blood run cold. He was about the last person I cared to see today. Hell, I still had no idea what he’d been up to over on the east side of the island. Digging around, burying something, reburying something, who knew?

I shuddered as I approached the dock. J.T. glanced up as he secured the ferry to the dock. “Maddy Fitch,” he said, expression grim. “What brings you down to the dock?” He lifted a dark satchel. “Are you really that anxious to get the mail?”

For a brief moment, I froze, panicked that J.T. somehow knew I was waiting for something from Jimmy. But he’d have no way of knowing such a thing. Besides, there was no way Jimmy’s mail—if he’d remembered to send it—would be here so quickly. Mail service was notoriously slow around these parts.

Looking past J.T. and ignoring his comment, I said, “Where’s Ami?”

He looked perplexed, but I couldn’t discern whether if it was an act or not. “Who? Ami Hensley?”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Yeah, she told me she was coming over on this ferry.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Maddy. The only thing I brought over is the mail,” J.T. said flatly as he hoisted the satchel over his shoulder and pushed past me.

A shiver ran down my spine at the brief contact, and I took a step back. Before I could think better of it, I muttered under my breath, “Likely story.”

J.T. dropped the satchel to the ground and spun around to face me. “You accusing me of something?”

“No,” I replied, looking everywhere but at his face.

And that was when I noticed a deep scratch running down the length of his forearm. It looked like it had been inflicted by something sharp, like maybe a long fingernail, and worse still, it appeared to be a recent wound. Like really recent.

My stomach lurched as J.T. stepped to close the gap between us. Fear gripped every part of my being, and I held my breath, expecting the worst. But suddenly a black Porsche screeched into the parking lot, skidding to a stop.
Thank God!

With his hot breath in my face, J.T. muttered, “Lucky bitch.” I stepped back, and he hissed, “One of these days, your luck is gonna run out.”

Calmly picking up the mailbag, J.T. snorted in derision and began walking toward the steep grade that led up to Main Street.

Adam got out of the car and shot J.T. a look of undisguised fury. But he kept on walking, ignoring Adam completely. Adam appeared torn on whether he should follow J.T. or come to me. In the end he headed in my direction.

“Maddy, what are you doing down here?” he asked in exasperation as he reached me, his eyes flickering to J.T.’s departing form.

“I thought Ami was coming over, I came down here to meet her,” I explained and then lamely added, “I tried to call you to tell you what was going on.”

“Ami?” Adam echoed, clearly confused. “Why would she be coming over to the island? I gave her some time off, so there’s no reason for her to—”

“Adam,” I interrupted. “She called me this morning. She wanted me to meet her here.” He arched an eyebrow, and I continued, “She said she needed to talk to me in person, that it was important. She said she could help me. I think she knows something about what happened to Jimmy.”

An indecipherable emotion flared in his expression, but then it was gone. “Maddy,” he began slowly. “I know you want answers, especially now. But Ami isn’t someone who can help you.”

“But Adam—”

“Madeleine,” he interrupted. “You know she has her own problems. Leave her out of this.”

He had a point, but…still. “OK, but even if you’re right, where is she?”

“I don’t know.” Adam sighed. “Unstable people do unpredictable things. She probably changed her mind and decided not to come over.”

He put his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Unfortunately it looked as if I’d gotten my hopes up for nothing. I was so desperate for answers that I’d believed the ramblings of a troubled person. Dejected, I got in my car and followed Adam back to his house. We made a quick stop at my cottage to pick up some clothes. He had suggested, as we’d walked to our respective cars, that I stay at his place. At least for a little while. I guessed he was worried for my safety after J.T.’s actions at the dock. It sounded good to me. Not just because of the J.T. situation, but also because I had no desire to spend another lonely night at the cottage.

After we arrived at his house, Adam made dinner. At one end of a long, ornate table in his impeccably decorated dining room, we sat down—Adam at the head of the table, and I to his left. Apart from a few distracted comments about how good everything tasted—and it really was delicious—we ate in relative silence. Adam seemed preoccupied, and I was lost in my own worried thoughts regarding Jimmy’s murder and my unenviable status as the primary suspect.

I reached for my glass of wine and bumped into Adam’s forearm. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

His eyes met mine, and I knew he sensed my feeling of hopelessness. “Maddy, everything is going to be fine. You have to trust me on this one.”

“How can you be so sure?” I murmured.

Adam covered my hand with his. “The police will find the person who killed Jimmy.” He sounded so certain. “And all of this will be over.”

“I hope you’re right,” I muttered.

I didn’t know how he did it, living under a veil of suspicion. I’d only experienced it for a little more than twenty-four hours, and I found the burden to be almost unbearable. Adam gave my hand another squeeze, and then we resumed eating. But not a minute later, the doorbell rang, the loud chime insistent. I threw Adam a questioning glance, wondering if he was expecting someone, but he shook his head. When he rose to go answer the door, I did as well. Adam hesitated for a moment and then shrugged.

Together we reached the foyer just as the bell began to ring again. Adam swung the front door open wide, and I could see there were two people on the other side. From my vantage point behind Adam, I saw Max, but his impressive bulk was shielding whoever was next to him. Max began to speak, explaining how he’d been patrolling the ferry dock and noticed someone pacing around in the dark. I thought I heard the name Hensley, so I stepped forward, fully expecting to see Ami. She’d made it over to the island after all.

But no, it wasn’t Ami standing next to Max. Instead the person at his side was Sean Hensley. And he did not look happy.

And that’s when things started to go from bad to worse.

Tears welled in Sean’s eyes, and my heart went out to him. He clearly loved Ami.

“I tried the police,” he said, turning to Max. “They said I have to wait forty-eight hours. I can’t wait. What if, what it…” A tear trailed down his cheek, and in a choked sob, he turned back to Adam and said, “Please, Ward. I know
you
can do something.”

Sean’s heartfelt pleas must have touched Adam. Or maybe his own feelings for Ami got the best of him. In any case he agreed to help. He promised Sean he’d pull a few strings to get things rolling on the search for Ami. But Adam was adamant that he wished to remain anonymous for obvious reasons. The last thing he needed was to be publicly attached to yet another missing person.

So later that night on the local news—following a report on the search for more clues in the Jimmy Kingston murder that left me cringing—the missing person’s report Adam had pulled several strings to have aired as soon as possible was broadcast. Ami Dubois-Hensley’s pretty face flashed on the screen, along with her vital stats. Female, late 20s, blonde hair, blue eyes, five foot two…

I watched the report from Adam’s bedroom, sitting at the foot of his massive bed. Adam was still downstairs doing who knew what. Surely Max and Sean had left hours ago. I hadn’t been in Adam’s bedroom since the night we’d spent together in this room, sleeping. I didn’t even know if I should be here now, but my bags were by the closet, and he had been the one to bring them up, so I supposed this was where I should be.

The report ended, and I flipped the television off. It was getting late, and I had no clue if Adam was planning on sleeping in here or not. With everything going on, it felt like our relationship had stalled. And I didn’t know how to get it back on track. We’d not even been fully intimate yet, even though we’d declared our love.

Adam had been so aggressive before, and I really liked that version of him. I wanted him to be that way again, but ever since my meltdown following the night Julian had stayed, it felt as if Adam was holding back. Did he think I was too fragile? That I wanted space? He couldn’t have been more wrong. Because with everything going on, the one thing I craved was to feel even closer to him.

Feeling defeated, I didn’t even bother to change into my pajamas. Instead I tugged at the comforter beneath me, cocooning it around me as I scooted back to lie among the sea of pillows. That was me, adrift in Adam’s bed. How had things gotten so crazy? Jimmy murdered in cold blood; Ami vanishing without a trace. And I was linked to both.

It was only a matter of time before the police would seek me out to discuss Ami’s sudden disappearance. I mean, come on, who had she been on her way to visit? Only the prime suspect in the murder of a local bartender. Not a good position to find oneself in.

I buried my face in a pillow, suppressing a scream of frustration. Choking back a sob, my thoughts turned to the interrogation I’d undergone in Harbourtown. Detective Mitchell didn’t seem as if he really believed I was capable of murdering Jimmy. But he surely suspected—correctly—that I was withholding information. On the other hand, Detective Crowley was all set to send me up the river. I imagined him, at this very moment, working overtime to build a case against me. Maybe he liked and respected my dad, but he sure as hell didn’t care for me.

I knew the thing my father had said about being honest with the detectives was sound advice, but I was resistant to confessing all I was hiding. Sure I could come clean and tell the detectives everything I’d discovered, thus far, in my own private investigation of Chelsea Hannigan’s disappearance. But that would mean I’d have to give up my search for the truth. I’d never find out who was in that photograph. The one Jimmy had ended up dying for. And Adam’s name might never be cleared. This case had been in the hands of two local police departments for years, and it still hadn’t been solved. So no, I wasn’t going to tell the police all I knew. Not quite yet. Not until I had the answer I was so close to discovering.