Harbour Falls

by Grey, S. R.

  Adam caught up to me. “You don’t have to do this, Maddy. You know that, right?”

  “No, I do. I really do,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against his chest. My voice was soft but full of conviction.

  So we drove down to Max’s modest bungalow, where it took only ten minutes for him to take my formal statement. I basically recounted exactly what had transpired at the café, while Adam held my hand. After I concluded, Max pressed the stop button on the recorder he’d set out on the coffee table and then informed us that J.T.—who was back in Cove Beach—would be taken into custody later in the day. Max explained how J.T. would be processed and then admitted to a rehab facility. As opposed to the alternative, jail, it seemed more than fair.

  After we left Adam drove me down to the dock. My father was still expecting me today, though I dreaded the visit. Adam must have noticed my solemn mood, because he offered to ride over with me on the ferry to Cove Beach. Without hesitation I took him up on the offer. Apart from it being an opportunity to spend more time with him, I was kind of secretly hoping Jennifer would be piloting us over. I couldn’t wait for her to see who was with me. I highly doubted she’d be her usual bitchy self in front of the owner of the island.

  Unfortunately, though, the wrong Weston was at the helm today. As usual Brody said very little, and the ride over was uneventful. After we docked Adam instructed Brody to wait for him before heading back over to the island. We then walked over to where my car was stored.

  Adam lifted the door to the garage and looking in, said, “Oh, Maddy, I see you’ve been holding out on me.” He nodded to my car. “A BMW, eh? And a pretty sweet one at that.”

  Knowing that Adam could easily afford an entire fleet of the model I owned, the M6, I laughed. “This from a man who drives a Porsche. And not just any Porsche, mind you. Let’s see…” I furrowed my brow in mock concentration and began to list off the stats, the facts rolling off my tongue smoothly. “The 911 GT2 RS…620 horsepower…only about five hundred in the world.”

  “I’m impressed.” Adam arched an eyebrow. “Someone must be reading their Car & Driver.”

  “Not exactly,” I admitted. “I looked it up on the Internet.”

  Adam chuckled. “Resourceful girl,” he said with a wink.

  Oh, if only he knew…

  I was reluctant to part, so I wrapped my arms around him. He held me tightly and said, “Just text me when you’re on your way back, and I’ll pick you up at the dock.”

  “I’ll be back before dark,” I promised, pulling back.

  Adam kissed me until I was breathless, and then he opened the driver’s side door for me. “Have a nice time with your father.”

  “I will,” I replied, getting in.

  In my rearview mirror, I watched as Adam walked away. And then I was off. Half an hour later, I was parked in front of my dad’s stately, white frame house in Harbour Falls. The home I’d grown up in.

  My dad and I spent only a short time at the house—mostly I tidied things up for him—and then we headed over to one of the local steakhouses. I suggested it because I knew my dad’s beloved Patriots were playing, and that particular place had a big screen TV.

  My dad appreciated the gesture, but he had no idea I had another, more selfish reason for suggesting the steakhouse. I was hoping that if the mayor was occupied with the football game, he’d be less likely to inquire about whether or not I was staying away from Adam.

  And it went pretty well for a while, with no mention of Adam. Then at halftime he brought up the investigation. “So, sweetie, you finding all you need in those case files to work on that book of yours?”

  “Mmm, yeah,” I muttered as I focused intently on cutting a piece of steak. “They’ve been really helpful,” I added, probably with more enthusiasm than was warranted.

  I wasn’t lying though. The case files had been helpful. But not enough to prevent me from snooping around, and I knew that was what my father had hoped to prevent by giving me those files. No doubt my dad would kill me if he knew I’d already paid off a shady bartender for information the police didn’t even have.

  “That’s good.” My dad took a drink of his soft drink and then setting the glass back down with a clink, continued, “I want you to stay under the radar, Madeleine, if you’re going to continue to live on that island.”

  Huh? “What do you mean, Dad?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about those pay phone records.”

  “And?”

  “Ms. Hannigan didn’t once use her cell phone after leaving the hotel, but we know it was in her possession.” The mayor paused meaningfully. “However, as we know, she did make a call from the pay phone at the bank…to Mr. Ward.”

  Uh-oh.

  My dad eyed me curiously when I suddenly coughed. “Is something wrong, Maddy?”

  “No, no.” I cleared my throat. “So you were saying.”

  “Ms. Hannigan made that call and then attempted to make another in Cove Beach.”

  “At the convenience store,” I added helpfully.

  My dad nodded. “And we have no way of knowing how many other calls she made that night that weren’t caught by any surveillance cameras.”

  “Exactly!” I agreed. “I thought the same thing when I read the files.”

  My dad leaned forward, while looking around to make sure nobody was listening to our conversation. “I think it’s safe to assume Ms. Hannigan was calling people from these other phones because she didn’t want them traced back to her.” I nodded, and my dad continued, “I have two theories: One, the most obvious is that she was covering her own ass in case the authorities ever got ahold of her cell records. This way they’d show nothing damning.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure her drug dealer wouldn’t have appreciated her calling from an easily traceable phone, like her cell.” I added. “Nor would Chelsea want that drug dealer traced back to her.”

  “Yes, but maybe she was calling someone other than some drug dealer from these other phones.”

  “Like who?”

  “Maybe she was calling a lover,” my dad said, his face reddening.

  I was just as embarrassed as my dad. We never talked about those sorts of things.

  I quickly said, “So she was calling, er, someone else.” I paused. “And you think she was protecting herself—and that person—from the authorities?”

  “Not from the authorities.” My father held my uncomprehending gaze. “This is where my second theory comes into play.”

  My ears perked up because, when it came right down to it, the mayor really was incredibly wise. “The flaw in the first theory is that we’re assuming Ms. Hannigan was being proactive in case the authorities ever caught up to her. But based on all her prior behavior, I think we can safely say she viewed herself as being above the law.”

  That much was true. Chelsea had done plenty of illegal and immoral things with no regard for the consequences.

  “What are you getting at, Dad?” I asked, kind of at a loss.

  “By not using her cell phone, Ms. Hannigan was behaving as if she had every expectation that those records would be seen, seen by someone other than the police.” My father looked at me pointedly.

  I swallowed hard. “Who would have been checking her cell records, Dad?” I asked meekly, afraid that I already knew the answer.

  “My guess? Her husband-to-be, Adam Ward.”

  “But she called him from the pay phone at the bank,” I protested. “Why didn’t she just use her cell to call Adam? What was the point of using the pay phone?”

  “I wondered that as well,” he said. “But maybe she was originally planning to call someone other than Mr. Ward from that pay phone and then had a change of heart once she started to dial.” I bit down on my lip, while my dad added, “After all, we still don’t kn
ow why she detoured to Harbour Falls. It seems she was planning on doing something there and changed her mind at the last minute.”

  This was good stuff. Very plausible. I wanted so badly to share with my dad what Adam had told me about the strange things Chelsea had said to him during their short exchange. Asking him to tell her to not do something, telling him she’d turn around and go back to the hotel if he’d just tell her he loved her. But I couldn’t betray Adam’s trust. Not this soon after he’d been so forthcoming with me.

  And what was Chelsea doing in Harbour Falls anyway? Maybe my dad was right. Maybe she’d originally planned on calling someone else from that pay phone and then changed her mind at the last second. It certainly fit with her bizarre, cryptic comments to Adam that night.

  The rest of my dad’s theory made sense too. If Chelsea truly suspected Adam was checking her cell records, then by using pay phones that night she could be certain he’d see only what the police had ended up seeing: No calls were made from her cell phone.

  But Chelsea had been trying to call someone. It had to have been someone she spoke to often. Why else would she have attempted to make those surreptitious calls that night? And Adam, if he’d been working on tracking that person down through her cell records, must have suspected she was in contact with someone she was hiding from him. But who could it have been? Not J.T., Adam knew all about him. So who?

  By blackmailing him, Chelsea had taken away something Adam was used to having—control. Maybe he’d been leveraging to catch her in her many lies, so he could turn the tables and get out from under her hold. It was starting to look like Adam and Chelsea had been playing a game of cat and mouse, with Adam closing in on her. If only she’d used her cell that final night…

  “Honey,” my dad said, breaking me out of my reverie. “Are you OK? You look a little peaked.”

  I pushed my hair behind my ears. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about what you said. I think you may be onto something.”

  “Well, the most important thing is” — I met my dad’s concerned, fatherly gaze— “for you to continue to steer clear of Adam Ward. Any man with that much power is capable of anything.”

  Too late for that, and time for a subject change. I nodded distractedly and glanced up at the television, mounted on the wall, where the football game was in progress. “Look, Dad, I think we just scored!”

  That was all it took, and the mayor, thankfully, dropped the subject. The game soon ended, and my dad paid the bill, and then we headed back to the house.

  I knew it was only a matter of time before my dad found out about my relationship with Adam. I couldn’t keep it from him indefinitely. I was certain he’d also soon hear about what had happened at the café with J.T. And then he’d probably push for me to give up on the investigation and move off of Fade Island. But I was in way too deep. I wasn’t about to give up. Not now.

  I dropped my dad off at the house. But before I started back to Cove Beach, I detoured over to the bank on the edge of town, the one where Chelsea had made that last call. There really wasn’t much out here. Besides the bank, there was a sub shop, a small neighborhood where Sean and Ami lived, and Hensley Discounters, Sean’s family-owned business.

  First I pulled into the bank parking lot. A patch of unkempt grass and weeds occupied the space where the pay phone had once stood. It was quiet out here, especially today, since the bank was closed. I glanced around, but I knew there were no answers out here.

  With a sigh I pulled out of the bank parking lot. Hensley Discounters, located a block away, made me think of Ami. At the last second, I turned into the gravel lot and parked. I hadn’t heard anything from her since the day I’d signed the lease. And that had been almost three weeks ago. By my calculations, the baby would be here any day now. Maybe Sean was working today. If so, I could get an update on Ami. Not to mention I hadn’t seen Sean in ages. Spending the afternoon with my dad had made me feel a little nostalgic, and I longed to stay connected with the few people from my past that, unlike J.T., hadn’t changed.

  It was Sunday and close to closing time, so when I walked into the store, the first thing I noticed was how empty it was. A young girl of about sixteen was ringing up a sale, while the only other customer—an elderly woman with gray-blue hair—was rummaging through a sale table overflowing with discounted backpacks.

  Once the teenage boy who’d been checking out left, I approached the young girl. She was plain but cute, with long dark hair and a name tag that read, “Cami.”

  “Hi,” I said, smiling. “Is Sean Hensley in today?” The girl eyed me up and down suspiciously, probably wondering who the hell I was. So to avoid any misunderstandings, I added, “I’m an old friend of both his wife and him.”

  “Oh, that’s cool,” she said, interest apparently waning. “But he’s not here today. Neither is his wife. Sorry.”

  Damn. “Can you tell them Maddy Fitch stopped by?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Cami answered distractedly. “But it’ll have to be after they get back from their trip.”

  Trip? They? I thought. As in Sean and Ami were away? Instantly I had the sense that something was amiss.

  But just as I was about to question Cami further, the elderly lady with the blue-tinged hair called her over to the sale table. “Honey, I need some help over here picking out a backpack for my grandson.” Cami brushed past, effectively halting my opportunity to dig for more information.

  Back behind the wheel of my car, I sat, ignition off, lost in thought. How could Ami be traveling with Sean? She’d been huge; she’d told me her due date was only a month away. That would’ve put the expected delivery at no more than a week from now, give or take. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something vital. Turning the key in the ignition, I made a mental note to ask Adam about Ami once I was back on the island. Surely he’d know something, since she was, after all, one of his employees.

  Brody took me back over to Fade Island, and Adam met me, as promised, at the dock.

  Never one to miss much, he immediately noticed something was off. “What’s wrong?” he asked as we got into the Porsche. “You look distracted. Did everything go well with your dad?”

  “Everything was fine with my dad,” I replied, fastening my seat belt.

  I’d eventually get the nerve up to ask Adam if he’d been checking Chelsea’s cell phone records, but at this moment, the strange Ami development took precedence.

  So I said, “There is something kind of bothering me.”

  Adam turned to me, the car idling, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “I stopped by Hensley Discounters on my way back. Uh, to ask about the baby—”

  “Baby?” Adam interrupted, his tone clearly troubled.

  “Yeah, Ami’s baby.”

  Adam sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Did Ami tell you that she was pregnant?”

  “Adam, yes,” I looked at him in disbelief. “I mean, haven’t you seen her lately? It’s kind of obvious.”

  “Maddy,” Adam said softly. “There is no baby. Ami is not pregnant.”

  My first thought, which I voiced loudly, was “Oh my God, did something happen to the baby?”

  Adam placed his hand over mine, and said, “No, nothing happened. There never was a baby.”

  “Yes, there was,” I insisted. “I saw her! She was definitely pregnant, Adam.”

  “No, Maddy,” Adam said slowly, as if I wasn’t comprehending what he was saying. “Sean and Ami can’t have children.”

  That sick feeling was back. “Adam, what’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  Squeezing my hand gently, he said, “I think I’d better tell you about what happened to Ami Dubois-Hensley a few years back.”

  Chapter 14

  Before delving into the tale of Ami Dubois-Hensley, Adam
drove me back to my cottage, where he pulled in behind the Lexus he and Trina had, as promised, picked up earlier from the café. With a turn of the key, the purr of the Porsche’s engine silenced. In the shadows I watched as Adam breathed in deeply and then shifted his tall form so that he was angled toward me. “I should have told you sooner,” he said, sighing. “But I had no idea it had started up again.”

  “Adam, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with Ami?”

  In the darkness of the car, lit only by the ambient glow of a half moon, Adam told me Ami’s story. And what a story it was.

  Unbeknownst to me, my former best friend had suffered some kind of a mental breakdown four years earlier. Ami had ended up in a mental health facility that autumn. After locking herself in the master bathroom of the house she shared with her husband, she’d attempted to commit suicide by downing a crazy cocktail of prescription pills and booze. Luckily Sean had come home from work early that day and found her lying unconscious on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

  At the hospital, after her stomach had been pumped, Ami was moved to the psychiatric ward for observation. Following a series of tests, exams, and sessions with a psychiatrist, she was deemed to be a danger to herself but not to others. So she’d been moved to a Harbour Falls mental health facility for further, more intensive treatment.

  Searching for a possible catalyst for her breakdown, which appeared to have come out of nowhere, the new psychiatrist treating her began to suspect it stemmed from her inability to have children—a condition which she and Sean had discovered that summer after a year of failed attempts to conceive.

  Following two more months of treatment, Ami was finally released and initially appeared to be “cured.” She’d gone back to her house and her loving husband, and even returned to her job at Harbour Falls Realtors.