by S. R. Grey
“I didn’t have the heart to fire her,” Adam explained, “She’d been a model employee, and I saw no reason to let her go. In fact, I hoped if she returned to a normal routine, it might actually help.”
“Did it?” I asked, though by Adam’s pained expression I sensed it hadn’t.
He explained that, at first, she really had seemed like her old self. But then one day, after showing a property located in Harbour Falls to a nice young couple who were expecting their first child, Ami was seen later sporting a rather impressive baby bump. In this “condition” she went to a local grocery store and a gas station. She later confessed she’d purposely sought out opportunities to talk with people about her “pregnancy.”
For example, a man at the grocery store had allowed her to go ahead of him in the checkout line. She thanked him and then proceeded to tell him how much she appreciated his kindness and how she’d just been so tired lately with her due date coming up. At the gas station, she’d waddled in to pay with cash and then spent ten minutes talking about babies with the young lady working at the station.
When she returned home, Sean was out in the yard raking leaves. “You can imagine how he felt when Ami got out of the car and Sean saw she was ‘pregnant.’” Adam slouched in the leather seat and leaned his head back on the headrest.
“That’s terrible,” I lamented.
Adam shook his head in what I guessed was dismay. “She confessed everything to Sean that night and even asked him to take her back to the hospital. He called me to let me know why Ami was going to be missing more work. That’s how I found out what had happened.” Adam paused. “He was so upset he even told me that Ami had admitted to sneaking into the high school and stealing one of those prosthetic pregnancy suits that had been used in a school play.”
“Oh, Adam.” Tears welled up in my eyes as my heart went out to this broken woman who, as a girl, had once shared so much with me. “She didn’t end up at Willow Point, did she?” I asked, shuddering.
Willow Point was a mental health facility that housed patients deemed to be a danger to themselves and/or others. It was located over in Bangor, perched high atop a hill overlooking the small downtown area. Even without the knowledge that it housed the insane, the old gothic structure itself was just plain creepy. In fact, Willow Point had inspired many a lurid tale. Almost everyone who’d grown up within a hundred-mile radius of the place had heard the terrifying stories of what went on at Willow Point. Many of the stories were true. Back in the sixties and seventies the place had been so overcrowded that beds were placed in the hallways. The atrocities that had occurred with patients essentially running amok were truly hair-raising. Reforms were passed, though, and conditions improved. But it still was a place that inspired terror.
“Maddy,” Adam said, throwing me an exasperated look. “Willow Point is for the criminally insane. Ami didn’t commit a felony; she just needed more help.”
According to Adam, despite more treatment Ami still periodically regressed back to these false pregnancies. Over time, though, the episodes appeared to occur with less and less frequency. So the doctors felt it’d be best to just allow things to play out. Especially since her farce never lasted for more than a day or two. Consequently, people who knew better just played along, and people who didn’t know—like me—remained none the wiser.
“Should we call someone?” I asked. “Let them know she’s at it again?”
Adam shook his head. “No. I’m sure Sean knows anyway. That’s probably why he took her out of town. To get away for a few days.”
So he did know they were gone. “Do you know where they went?” I tried to keep my voice even.
“No idea,” he replied. “She just asked for a few days off.” I bit down on my lip and stared out the passenger-side window. Noticing, Adam added, “Maddy, if you’re that curious, I can find out where they are.”
There really was no reason, so I shook my head. “This is just a lot to take in,” I murmured, leaning my head against the cool glass of the passenger window.
I kept thinking of the time I’d recently spent with Ami. She’d seemed so excited about the nonexistent baby. The whole thing was just heartbreakingly sad. So much had changed since I’d left Harbour Falls. Everyone was so different, their lives so full of complications. Me, I just wanted to go inside and forget this whole day.
Adam put a comforting hand on my knee. “It is a lot to digest,” he agreed. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t think it’d be an issue.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know now, that’s what counts.” I put my hand over his. “We can talk more about everything tomorrow.”
“Uh, actually we can’t,” Adam said. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
I resisted the urge to groan. I was beginning to hate all these business trips of his. But after suppressing my irritation, I asked, “Where are you going? Boston?”
“No, I have some more business down in DC.”
“When will you be back?”
Adam hesitated. “Not until Thursday evening.”
“Oh,” I sighed.
Four long days with no Adam. And then I caught myself. I was definitely starting to rely on Adam’s presence far too much. But when Adam reached over and pulled me to him, I didn’t resist. A few heated kisses later, we reluctantly pulled apart and said our farewells until Thursday.
Later that night I woke up, and when I couldn’t get back to sleep, I padded down to the living room. After lifting the loose floorboard, I pulled out the case files and paged furiously through the reams of material with renewed interest. The past twenty-four hours had been eye-opening, and surely that was contributing to my current case of insomnia.
There had been Helena’s tale of why Trina hated Chelsea; J.T.’s attack that had, if nothing else, highlighted his substance abuse problems and anger issues; Adam’s confession that Chelsea had indeed been blackmailing him; and then my dad’s theory that Chelsea may have been hiding her calls from Adam. On top of all that, now I had to come to grips with the fact that my former best friend was a mental mess. Little wonder my mind was in overdrive.
I sat down, right there on the hardwood floor, and began to reread the files. When I reached the particulars of Chelsea’s last visit to Billy’s, I was reminded that I’d not heard anything from Jimmy. Obviously a return visit to Billy’s was in order. Maybe Jimmy had misplaced my cell number, or maybe he’d forgotten all about the alleged photo of Chelsea kissing some blonde girl. In any case a little reminder—and possibly another cash infusion—might be enough incentive to get him moving.
There was something about the blonde mystery woman that was bothering me. There had been no reported rumors—like with Chelsea and J.T.—about Chelsea and this individual. Adam had known about J.T. and Chelsea for quite some time. And he had been made aware of the other random men, and the drugs. Had he known about the mystery blonde as well? Or had Chelsea kept that part of her life successfully hidden?
I knew I should have just asked Adam, but I was reluctant. What if that night at Billy’s had been a one-time event? Or what if Jimmy had lied about what he’d overheard Chelsea and the mystery blonde saying? Hell, he could have made the whole thing up. Besides, hadn’t Adam made it clear he didn’t really care to discuss the things I was uncovering in this investigation?
That seemed strange too. Unless he didn’t really anticipate I’d discover anything that hadn’t already been reported in those files. If that were the case, then it only served to make me want to dig deeper and solve this damn thing, once and for all.
Somewhere along the line this investigation had become much more than “research.” Now it was personal.
Early Monday morning my father called. Yes, as expected, he’d found out about what had happened with J.T. O’Brien. It took nearly twenty minutes to calm him down. The on
ly good thing that came out of it was that he reluctantly agreed Adam had saved me from further harm. I guessed it made him feel better about me staying on the island, because he didn’t threaten to come over and drag me back home. Although, I half-expected that to still happen.
On Thursday I drove down to the dock. Dressed in some raggedy jeans and an old flannel shirt that I knew would make me fit right in at Billy’s, I was all set to pay Jimmy another visit. As I made my way to the waiting ferry, I inwardly groaned when I noticed Jennifer Weston was at the helm. I was in no mood to deal with her today.
“Oh yay,” I muttered to myself as I stepped aboard.
Jennifer appeared to be as excited to see me as I was to see her. “If it isn’t Madeleine Fitch.” Sarcasm dripped with every word as she purposely blocked my way. “Must be my lucky day,” she snapped.
Pushing past her, I took a seat. “Back to the mainland so soon?” she continued, starting up the ferry. “Running low on people to press charges against? Or is island life just too boring when your rich boyfriend isn’t around to beat the piss out of someone?”
OK, so it was clear Jennifer had taken issue with the J.T. incident. No surprise there. She obviously still had feelings for him. Ignoring her comments, I rummaged through my bag, searching for the book I’d brought along to pass the time.
Without warning the ferry lurched forward uncharacteristically, and Jennifer shot me a look of satisfaction, surely pleased at startling me. “J.T. was right about you, you know,” she said.
“Oh, this ought to be good,” I muttered, pulling out my book.
Jennifer snickered. “We had a bet on how long it was going to take for you to end up in Ward’s bed.”
I rolled my eyes. What was it with her and J.T.? I hadn’t even slept with Adam…yet. Well, I’d slept with him in the literal sense, but I was sure they meant more. Just the thought of it, when it did happen though, brought a secret smile to my lips.
“That’s what I thought,” Jennifer snarked, misinterpreting my smile. “Looks like I won. I said less than a month.”
“Whatever,” I huffed dismissively.
“It won’t last, you know,” Jennifer continued, undettered.
Oh, it was going to be a long ride to the mainland.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Adam.” I should have just ignored her, but I felt compelled to say something.
“Relationship?” she spat. “If it makes you feel better to call it that, then fine.”
I opened my book and began to read in an attempt to end the unpleasant conversation. But Jennifer would not shut up. “Do you want to know what I can’t figure out, Fitch?”
No, not really, I thought, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the book when, really, I’d not read a single word.
“You don’t seem at all like what Ward usually goes for. Odd,” she mused out loud, clearly baiting me as she feigned a lost-in-thought expression.
I put my book down. She sure had my attention now. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, returning her glare.
“Let’s just say, I know plenty more about Adam Ward than you do.”
“Sure you do.” I laughed and taunted, “You’re so well-informed.”
“I know this,” Jennifer hissed. “Ward is a powerful man who prefers beautiful women.” She eyed me up and down, like I didn’t make the cut.
When I rolled my eyes, she continued, “Not to mention” —Jennifer tapped her finger to her chin mockingly, pretending to be in deep thought— “he’s a man with a voracious appetite that I doubt you could keep up with. You seem a little too, I don’t know, bland maybe.” She winked knowingly, and my eyes widened.
How in the hell would Jennifer know something like that, unless… I narrowed my eyes at her, and she said pointedly, “Oh please, Fitch, drop the look of dismay. I never touched your precious Ward. I’m just saying I’ve heard things.”
Heard things? Like what, I wanted to ask? And from whom? Jennifer had certainly not been friends with Chelsea. Did she know Lindsey? No, I doubted it. But I didn’t know who all Adam had been with over the years and whose paths had crossed with Jennifer’s. I didn’t care to dwell on it either. But it just bothered me to no end. Who would have confided in Jennifer?
“I’m not particularly interested in whatever crap you’ve heard,” I said, trying desperately to sound unfazed and uninterested.
“Suit yourself,” she countered. “But did you ever consider you might be being played?”
I bit my lip, turning my head away. “Shut up, Jennifer.”
But apparently she was just warming up. “You’re a novelty to him, Fitch. You’re nothing but a between-inning stretch. What do you think is going to happen?” She snorted unattractively. “Do you dream of the great Adam Ward falling for you? Why would he want you, when he could have anyone he wants? Face the facts, bitch, he’s out of your league.”
As much as I was trying to fight them, tears threatened. Jennifer was awakening all the insecurities I’d ever had. “You don’t know anything about me,” I said quietly, blinking back tears.
“I know you once had a schoolgirl crush on Ward. Just remember, you’re not in high school anymore.”
What? How could Jennifer know that tidbit? Her words left me stunned. The only person who’d ever known about my crush on Adam was Ami. But Jennifer and Ami weren’t friends. Were they? I mean, it seemed unlikely since they’d barely spoken to one another on that first ferry ride over to Fade Island. Of course, Helena now probably suspected I’d always had a crush on Adam. And maybe she’d told Trina? But were Trina and Jennifer friends? What about Helena and Jennifer? I hadn’t gotten the impression they were pals.
But God, how’d Jennifer know about Adam’s supposed sexual prowess? Who else could she have been friends with? Maybe she had been buddies with Chelsea, despite everything? That would explain at least part of how she knew these things. So I asked, “Who told you those things about Adam? The part about his…” I winced. “...voracious appetite? Chelsea?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Jennifer cut the engine, leaving us to drift quietly on the water out in the middle of the ocean. She approached, and I hastily stood up.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” Jennifer was in my face. Close. Too close. “That fucking piece of shit slut was no fucking friend of mine. So don’t ever even think it.”
I took a shaky step backwards, the sound of the waves sloshing against the sides of the ferry seemingly amplified in the silence. “OK,” I responded meekly.
Jennifer cocked her head to the side, as if examining me. “What are you doing here, Fitch?” I shuddered, and before I could answer, she added, “You’re not poking around in things that don’t concern you, are you?”
I shook my head emphatically. “No, I’m not.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause if you are…” She trailed off.
“I’m not,” I insisted.
Jennifer suddenly backed off, laughing smugly. “Wouldn’t it be poetic if you found out you were sleeping with the enemy, so to speak, in this little scenario?”
“Adam didn’t do anything to Chelsea,” I stated with conviction.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Jennifer’s eyes were black and unblinking, her voice cold. Even colder when she added, “Personally, I hope he fucking offed the bitch.”
This was getting to be too much. Something bad was going to happen if I didn’t snap her out of this tirade. “Um, I need to get to the mainland, Jennifer,” I squeaked out in a meager attempt to diffuse her fury.
She snickered. “Of course you do. What do you think I’m going to do? Throw you overboard?” Her eyes flashed to the water as if she were considering it.
But to my relief, she returned to the pilot’s house and set the ferry back into m
otion. I sat back down, trembling. Maybe I should tell Adam about this incident.
The rest of the way to Cove Beach, I thought about ways I could broach the subject without having to divulge the more sordid things Jennifer had said about him—that he was playing me, that he was the enemy. Jesus. By the time we reached the dock, though, I decided it’d be best to keep quiet. I’d already sent J.T. to rehab; and I didn’t want Adam to retaliate against Jennifer, too, and make things somehow go from bad to worse.
With all that had transpired on the ferry replaying in my head, I got my car out of the garage and drove to Billy’s. Except this time, as I traveled along the two-lane state route, I kept getting the distinct impression that I was being tailed. I checked my rearview mirror. There were a few cars behind me, but when I slowed, they passed without incident. Hitting the gas I concluded I was just feeling extra paranoid due to Jennifer’s behavior on the ferry. Still, when I reached Billy’s, I parked the car directly in front of the door and practically ran into the establishment.
Jimmy was standing on a step stool behind the bar, stringing up Halloween lights. Rock music played in the background, and his head bobbed up and down with the beat as he secured the string of lights.
When Jimmy flipped a switch on the cord, a wash of orange and purple bathed the bar area. “Looks good,” I said, startling him.
“Hey.” Jimmy jumped down from his perch and folded up the step stool. “Didn’t see ya there.” He picked up an almost-spent cigarette in the ashtray behind the bar, took a drag, and stubbed it out. “What can I getcha?”
Before I could answer, movement from the back room caught my eye. Damn, I wasn’t the only customer today at Billy’s. This would make it harder to get information out of Jimmy, especially since his eyes kept darting to the back room.