by S. R. Grey
The first one read:
Chelsea, I don’t know what you have on my brother, but I do know you’re going to end up ruining his life. Adam doesn’t love you. He hasn’t for a long time. You’ve become an evil person, and someday you’re going to get exactly what you deserve. –Trina
The second one, written one week later, read:
You are a bitch. I can’t believe you’re actually going to go through with this farce of a wedding. You can’t love Adam. If you did, you’d never do this to him. Call the wedding off, Chelsea, or I’ll personally make sure you’re sorry you didn’t. –Trina
With my heart in my throat, my hands would not stop shaking as I grasped the letters tightly. So Trina had been threatening Chelsea. While I was aware there’d been no love lost between those two after the incident with Chelsea and Walker, it was still disturbing to read Trina’s vitriolic words.
And how had Adam ended up with these letters in his possession? The police reports hadn’t mentioned anything about threatening letters. And surely they would have, had they known. Was Adam protecting his sister by keeping them hidden? Had she actually followed through on her threats and done something to Chelsea to prevent her from marrying Adam?
Frazzled, and with time running short, I shoved the file folder with the stock information back into the bottom of the drawer, on top of the gun, and left everything as it had been. I held onto the letters, however, placing them back into the ivory A4 envelope. I wanted those letters in my possession until more information came to light. If Trina had really done something to Chelsea, I couldn’t just sit by and allow Adam to continue to cover for her.
My head was spinning, and my pulse was racing from anxiety. I wanted to go back to my own place. I needed some time alone to think over the implications of both matters I’d discovered tonight. Clutching the envelope containing the letters, I stepped into the hall, and closed the study door behind me until I heard a soft snick.
I looked left, I looked right; the coast appeared to be clear. I hurried down the hall, through the foyer, and suddenly realized I’d left my bag in the study. And my car keys were in the bag. Damn.
So I turned around and rushed back, shouldering my way into the study’s half-open door. Odd, I thought I had closed that door. With no time to contemplate, I hurried over to where I’d dropped my bag to the floor.
But it wasn’t there.
I knelt down on the floor and checked under the desk. Nothing.
Suddenly a low, irate voice broke through the silence. “Looking for something, Madeleine?”
I rocked back onto my heels quickly, the ivory envelope containing Trina’s letters clearly visible in my left hand. I attempted to slip it under my knees and, in the process, glanced up to see Adam in the doorway. And, holy hell, did he look pissed.
He stood perfectly still, my bag dangling from his right hand. Which way had he come in? Not through the front, as I would have run right into him. And how long had he been back? Long enough to have seen me snooping around?
I bit down on my lip, hard enough to draw blood. Adam’s hard-muscled body was all the more pronounced with the way the desk lamp light fell on him. Coupled with the expression of fury on his face, I felt tiny and vulnerable from my vantage point on the floor. He dropped my bag and took three long strides, and then he stood before me.
I lowered my gaze, fearful to meet his dark, angry eyes. “Give me the envelope now!” he said, his voice steady but firm.
I held it out to him with absolutely no hesitation.
Snatching it from my hand, he scolded, “I’m extremely disappointed in you, Madeleine.” He circled around me, not unlike a stalking predator. “Going through my private papers, stealing from me.” Adam placed the edge of the envelope under my chin. “Look at me,” he demanded.
I reluctantly met his glare, and though his eyes were full of fury, there was also something else. Hurt? Betrayal? Whatever it was, I felt incredibly guilty for what I’d done. Adam had asked me—more than once—if I trusted him. And I had vehemently questioned his trust in me. Yet here I was, the one betraying him. How ironic.
Yes, Adam had secrets—and I’d wanted answers—but sneaking around in his private files was just wrong. Who was the bad person in this scenario? I knew the answer. It was I.
“I’m sorry, Adam.” I whispered, my voice cracking but not solely from fear. I was also ashamed. I truly was sorry, and in that moment, all I desired was his forgiveness.
Holding my gaze, he growled, “You’ve really gone too far this time. I have half a mind to terminate your lease and kick you off the island.”
“No,” I cried. “Please, Adam. I don’t care about the past. Even if your sister did something to Chelsea—”
“Trina did not do anything to that bitch! Fuck, Maddy, there are how many suspects out there?” Adam yelled, running his hand through his hair in apparent frustration. “Why are you so fucking set on blaming a Ward?”
“I’m not,” I tried to explain. “I believed you when you told me you were innocent. I still don’t think you hurt Chelsea. But those letters, Adam.”
“These letters” —Adam held the envelope up menacingly— “mean nothing. Trina was trying to scare Chelsea. My sister could never hurt anyone. She was only trying to protect me.”
“And you were protecting her in return,” I whispered.
“Yes, I was protecting my sister from having the police think exactly what you’re thinking right now. I intercepted these letters before Chelsea ever saw them, thank God.” Adam tossed the envelope onto the desk. “After she disappeared I started keeping them under lock and key.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, “for everything. If you want me to leave the island, I will…” My voice faltered, tears in my eyes.
I didn’t want to leave the island. And I definitely didn’t want to leave Adam. I longed to tell him I was falling in love with him, but I was fearful of being rejected, especially after tonight. And one thing for sure, I certainly wasn’t about to bring up the stock trade information I’d also discovered. No way. Not tonight.
“Stand up,” Adam ordered, his voice firm but less angry than before.
I stood up, shaky, and Adam took my hand. I looked up into his tormented blue eyes. “I don’t want you to leave the island, OK?”
“It was wrong of me to go through your stuff,” I said, knowing, and believing, it now more than ever before.
“It was,” he agreed, letting go of my hand.
“I should go.”
Adam didn’t protest. He led me out of the study but not before putting the envelope containing Trina’s letters back into the desk drawer and, of course, making sure it was locked this time.
We walked down the hall, through the foyer, out to the driveway, all in silence. At my car Adam stopped me. “Madeleine, I have business over on the mainland tomorrow, but I’ll stop by the cottage in the morning.” I looked at him quizzically. “We have one more matter to discuss,” he clarified.
There was no need to ask what he meant. He knew I’d seen more than Trina’s letters in that drawer. He knew I’d read the SEC stuff.
I drew a deep breath. “Adam—”
“Not now, Maddy.” Fingers on my lips, silencing me. “It’s late. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I didn’t argue. I got in the car and drove back to the cottage. Let myself in, dragged myself upstairs, peeled off my clothes, fell into bed.
Had Adam traded on insider information? If so, had Chelsea blackmailed him with her knowledge of it? How much would Adam tell me? And where did we stand after tonight? Would he forgive my snooping?
I didn’t know, but I’d surely find out tomorrow morning.
Chapter 16
Unfortunately sleep didn’t lessen the guilt I felt for going through Adam’s private things. He’d been more irate than I’d ever seen him. Well, maybe he’d been angrier at J.T. that night at the café. But Adam had never been that angry with me. The only bright spot I could find was that whate
ver feelings he had for me, Adam’s actions demonstrated that they were, without a doubt, full of passion.
That brought up the question of just what did Adam feel for me? Could he be falling in love with me? Like I was with him. Or was this something entirely different for him? This last possibility was the one that worried me.
But after what had happened last night, maybe it didn’t even matter. Sure, Adam had said I could stay on the island, but that didn’t mean he still wanted to see me.
I thought about the folder containing the stock trade information and the old, yellowed newspaper clipping outlining the SEC investigation of Adam. Had he truly forgotten to lock that drawer? Or had he wanted to share his secrets with me, and that was the only way he knew how? We’d gone back and forth on the trust issue. Had he been testing me? Had I failed miserably, or had I actually, in some crazy way, passed? After all, he hadn’t kicked me off his island. No, it appeared Adam wanted me to know, wanted to keep me close. The phrase “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer” came to mind. The only thing was that I was not the enemy. And I hope Adam knew that.
The doorbell sounded, and I raced to answer it. It was a little after seven, but I’d been up for two hours, waiting for Adam to arrive.
And now he was here, all dressed for business in black tailored pants, a crisp white dress shirt, dark tie, and black shoes. “You look nice,” I said lamely as I stepped aside so he could come in.
Adam’s eyes traveled over the charcoal-gray leggings, black tunic-style sweater, and Chucks I’d thrown on after showering. “And you look…comfortable,” he replied. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, and I started to believe we might just be able to work this out. Maybe he’d forgive me after all.
We walked into the living room, but neither of us sat. Adam spoke first, “There’s no point in pretending, Maddy. We both know what you found in that drawer.”
I dared to meet his gaze, expecting fury, but instead he just looked tired. He sighed. “No more games, OK? There’s one thing you have yet to ask. So just get it over with, ask me.”
“Are you serious?” My voice was incredulous. I hadn’t expected this.
Adam’s eyes, dark as cobalt today, met mine. “Deadly,” he replied coolly.
“OK.” I drew in a deep, calming breath. “Did you trade on insider information?”
“Yes, I did.”
My heart skipped a beat. Good Lord, what other illegal things had Adam done? He does have that gun.
I shook away those thoughts and spoke quickly, “And Chelsea somehow found out about it? That was what she was using to blackmail you, right?”
He nodded. “Yes, that was it.”
“But I don’t understand,” I said. “Why would you ever trust someone like her with something so important?”
“I didn’t tell her, Madeleine,” Adam replied, irritation creeping into his voice. “Chelsea was the one who gave me the insider information.”
“You’re kidding,” I murmured, astounded. “How did someone like her come across information like that?”
Adam loosened his tie and sat down on the arm of the sofa. “Chelsea overheard her father talking on the phone to a business associate about the impending buyout. I have no idea how he’d obtained that kind of information, but I can only imagine. Anyway Mr. Hannigan, wisely, never acted on the tip.”
“But you did.”
“Yes, Maddy, I did. I made a fuckload of money in a very short time. But I also brought a lot of unwanted attention to myself. I regretted it, but it was too late to undo it.”
“Did she encourage you to make that trade, Adam?” I asked, taking a hesitant step closer to him. I longed to comfort him in some way. But would my overture be welcome?
Adam closed his eyes, his beautiful features pained. “It doesn’t matter. I ultimately made my own decision.”
“Why would she use it to blackmail you though?”
“My relationship with her had degraded into one of habit, I guess. We certainly didn’t love one another anymore, but every time I tried to break up with her, she threatened me. It seemed the more I didn’t want her, the more she held on.” Adam was quiet for a moment—reflective, maybe—and then he continued, “When I caught her with J.T. O’Brien, I told her that was the final straw. But she said she’d never let me go. She said she’d rather see me in prison than with someone else. She wanted to get engaged, and she threatened to go to the SEC and offer her testimony against me if I refused.”
“God, Adam, I’m sorry.” I reached for his hand.
Adam caught my hand and lifted it to his lips. “Don’t feel sorry for me.” He ghosted a single kiss across my knuckles. “My mistake was in listening to her in the first place.”
I squeezed his hand to reassure him, but his face grew somber. “The irony is that Chelsea may not have sent me to jail, but after she was gone, I ended up in a different kind of prison—one with walls of suspicion and doubt.”
“Oh, Adam,” I whispered, my voice pained.
“It doesn’t bother you?” His eyes searched mine. “Knowing these things about me?”
I wasn’t about to hold something he’d done years earlier against him. Chelsea had tempted him with the prospect of easy money, and he’d been young and rash. I secretly wondered if she’d done it on purpose in an effort to trap him. After all, he had ended up paying a high price for his actions.
Adam cleared his throat. “Maddy?” he asked, awaiting my response.
“No,” I answered honestly. “It doesn’t bother me.”
It didn’t seem possible, but his expression grew even more somber. With a grave tone, he stated, “This is a one-time discussion. It’s not something I ever speak of, and I expect it to stay that way.”
I looked into his eyes and hoped he could read the truth in mine. “I’ll never betray you, Adam. I swear on my life, no matter what you tell me, it will stay between you and me.”
He pulled me roughly to him and kissed me hungrily. His hands found purchase on my hips, his long fingers pressed gingerly into my flesh. There was urgency in these deep kisses, and I sensed it had nothing to do with lust. It was about acceptance. Soon, too soon, he loosened his grip, composed himself, and slowed the kisses. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and we held onto each other, both of us silent.
After several moments, he chuckled, murmuring into my hair, “There is one good thing that came out of it all. I was able to buy this island.”
I pulled back. “Weren’t you worried it would draw attention to you? Making such a large purchase?”
“Not at that time. The island didn’t go up for sale until months after the whole SEC investigation had concluded. My assets were no longer frozen, and I’d always planned on investing in real estate. So…”
“So you bought an island.” I smiled, brushing a dark lock that had fallen across his forehead back into place.
“I always loved this place, the beauty, the ruggedness, the privacy. My family used to vacation over here when I was a child.” He paused, and his expression darkened. “Of course, Chelsea hated this place. She told me she’d never live out here. I didn’t move here until after she was gone.”
“And here we are,” I said quietly.
“Yeah, here we are.” His fingers caressed my cheek tenderly. “I’ve never told a soul that whole story.”
“Would you have told me had I not…” I leaned into his warm touch. “Uh, you know.”
“Yes, eventually. Remember?” Adam said playfully.
I had to smile at his lighthearted reference to our words from the other night. This new openness between us made me feel brave enough to ask, “Adam, what’s going on between us?”
He hesitated, pulling back. “This is a conversation we should save for later. I have to go if I’m going to make my meeting over on the mainland.”
“I know,” I said, “I just thought…”
Adam cupped my face, kissed my lips, and then said, “I should be back at the dock by a
bout six. Let’s meet at the café, and we can talk there, sound good?”
That sounded good to me, so I told him so. Adam stood, and after one more long and lingering kiss at the door, he straightened his tie and left for his meeting over on the mainland.
Once he was gone, I checked my cell for messages I may have missed, since I’d turned it off yesterday evening before going up to Adam’s. Oddly enough Katie, my agent, had left two voicemails and three texts asking me to call her as soon as possible. So I sat down at the dining room table and dialed her number.
She picked up immediately. “Maddy, where have you been? Why didn’t you call me back last night?”
“Um, my phone was charging,” I lied, cringing at my pathetic excuse. And before she had a chance to question me further, I added, “Why? What’s going on?”
“Well,” she stated slowly, “some woman from Maine stopped by the office late yesterday afternoon. She said she was your friend, and—”
“Wait, what? She said she was my friend?” I interrupted, baffled. “From where? Here?”
“Yeah,” Katie continued, “from Harbour Falls. Her name is Ami. She was with a clean-cut-looking guy with kind of sandy-colored hair. I’m guessing he was her husband?”
Whoa, wait a minute. “Ami and Sean are in Los Angeles?”
Things were getting stranger and stranger. California was where they’d gone for their little trip? Bizarre.
“You do know them then?” Katie asked.
“Yeah, but what are they doing there?”
“Oh, you’re going to love this,” my agent continued, clearing her throat. “First her husband just kind of hung out in the background, looking uncomfortable and kind of apologetic.”
“Apologetic?”
“Yeah, I guess because this Ami was going on and on about how I needed to step in and put a stop to, oh wait, how did she put it?” Katie paused for a beat. “Uh, this was it, word for word: I should ‘put a stop to whatever the hell Maddy is doing on Fade Island before she ends up hurt. She’s in serious danger.’”