Harbour Falls

Chapter 28



I slowly edged back toward a still-unconscious Ami. And Jennifer Weston, gun in hand, stepped into the lighthouse, the door behind her sticking on sand and not closing all the way. Through the opening that led to freedom, I could see full darkness had descended on this fateful November late afternoon. Or was it early evening now? I’d lost track of time. I longed to run out into the velvety black night, out to where the waves crashed thunderously against the rocks, beckoning me to safety.

But a psychotic-looking Jennifer stood blocking my way. With a sinister chuckle she repeated the words she’d just uttered, “You didn’t think a f*cking crazy person could pull all of this off by herself, now did you?”

“You…you’re involved in this?” I gasped, finding it hard to fathom that she and Ami had been working together.

I started to say more, but she brandished the gun impatiently, silencing me immediately. “Don’t look so surprised, Fitch,” she scoffed. “My working with Ami makes perfect sense. After all, as far as I was concerned, Chelsea’s number was up the day J.T. fell in love with her.”

I couldn’t say I was shocked to learn Jennifer had played a role in Chelsea’s disappearance. I mean, I had suspected as much the day she wigged out on the ferry. But Jennifer working with Ami in the commission of God knew how many crimes did truly leave me speechless.

Jennifer’s glare bore into me, as she spoke in a calm, detached manner. “Chelsea ruined any chance of J.T. ever loving me. I knew he only married me in order to get back at her for getting engaged to Ward. But at the time, I foolishly believed he’d grow to love me.” She laughed bitterly, I supposed at this recollection.

“When he told me he wanted a divorce, just weeks after we were married, I knew he’d started seeing her again.” She paused. “You know, I refused to divorce him until after she was gone. I even gave him half of the ferry business, so he wouldn’t leave this area. But it didn’t matter. Nothing I did could stop him from loving that bitch.” The last sentence she spat, and I instinctively stepped back.

Jennifer’s expression was almost wistful, but her eyes were black. Unfortunately there was no escaping. Even though the door remained partially opened, Jennifer stood between me and freedom, and worse yet, the gun was currently aimed at my heart.

Since it had worked with Ami, it seemed my best chance of survival was to try to keep Jennifer talking. I held on to this fresh glimmer of hope. The more time that passed increased the chance that Nate or Helena would notice my parked car at the top of the cliff steps and come down to investigate. Or maybe Adam would come home and, finding the note, see that his handwriting had been forged and that a trap had been set. Too bad I hadn’t realized as much. But I hadn’t, so now Adam was one of my only hopes.

With this in mind, I sent up a quick prayer that Ami’s forged note wouldn’t blow away before Adam got to it, and then I asked Jennifer, “What happened that night?” My words were shaky, but it was my best attempt to stall for time.

Jennifer shot me an amused smile. “You’re brave, Fitch, asking me about that night. Either that or you’re just plain dumb.”

I ignored the insult, hoping I’d not pushed too far. I was about to apologize for good measure, but I stopped when Jennifer mumbled something to herself about it not mattering anymore what I knew. While that certainly chilled my soul, I tried to remain calm and listen as Jennifer focused her attention back to me.

“I was the one who ferried Chelsea over that night to meet with Ami. But what Chelsea didn’t know was that Ami and I had planned it all out. I couldn’t stand to see that bitch playing with yet another person’s feelings…” She trailed off, and I knew she was thinking about how Chelsea had toyed with J.T.’s emotions as well.

I wondered just how close she and Ami had become, so I whispered, “So you and Ami?”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Not like that, Fitch,” she spat. “Ami and I are friends, just friends.” She paused and narrowed her eyes at me but continued, “Over the years, with her ferrying back and forth, we got to know one another. She told me about her and Chelsea, and as time wore on, I could see she actually cared for the Hannigan slut. But I knew Ami was being used, just like J.T. had been used by Ward’s tramp of a fiancée.”

I swallowed hard as I imagined a distressed, unstable Ami, confiding in a bitter, angry Jennifer. Little wonder tragedy had ensued. And now I found myself at the culmination of it all.

Jennifer stepped closer to me, her finger lovingly caressing the trigger. “Chelsea suspected nothing,” she said, her voice scary soft. “Just like you suspected nothing.”

I looked away from her steely, unwavering gaze and down to my trembling hands. “Jennifer…please.”

“Please what?” Jennifer yelled. “Let you go? Feel sorry for you? Just face it—you’re going to meet the same fate as Chelsea Hannigan. But you should be happy, because you’re finally going to get the truth that’s eluded you. Isn’t that what you’ve been searching for all this time?”

With my heart hammering in my chest, I nodded weakly. Arguing seemed like a bad plan. Terror engulfed me when I noticed Jennifer’s finger twitching on the trigger. My God, please let me live, I prayed, all the while thinking it was weird how fear distorted time. Seconds that felt more like stretched-out minutes passed until, finally, Jennifer’s finger stilled.

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding, and Jennifer continued, her voice back under control. “I waited outside the lighthouse that night, listening. Just like I did tonight.” She paused. “Only we didn’t have a gun that night. Pity.”

Jennifer suddenly seemed unfocused, reminiscing as she was. I didn’t need to hear anymore. I already knew Chelsea had been killed that night, whether they’d had a gun or not. I judged the distance to the door and calculated that if I could get Jennifer to lunge for me, as opposed to shooting me, I might have a chance to get past her. It was a risk, but what choices did I have?

But first I needed to get her off her game.

“You and Ami murdered Chelsea, didn’t you?” I said tauntingly, even though I knew this approach could backfire terribly.

Jennifer looked stunned that I’d actually said it out loud, and I took that brief opportunity to make a run for it. Unfortunately Jennifer was faster, and she grabbed me easily, one arm hooking around my neck as she wrenched me back to her with more force than I’d anticipated. I cried out, and Jennifer hissed in my ear, “Shut up! Shut up, or I’ll f*cking shoot you right here.”

She jammed the gun against my temple for emphasis, and knowing she’d follow through on her threat, I quieted. Jennifer tightened her grip until I coughed, and then she relaxed her hold slightly, asking, “You wanna know how Chelsea died?”

“No,” I croaked, trying not to sob.

Nobody was going to rescue me. I was going to end up dead, like Chelsea. I wanted to cry over every mistake I’d made that had led me to this. I should have listened to my dad. I should have listened to Adam. I’d gotten in over my head, and my own stubbornness was going to be my end. I didn’t care to hear any more about the Harbour Falls Mystery. I’d heard enough answers to the questions I’d once sought. Realizing that I was likely going to pay with my life had a way of killing my last bit of curiosity.

But Jennifer, apparently, was determined that I knew it all before I took that final breath. “Ami tried to strangle Hannigan,” she ground out, laughing.

Still trapped in the stranglehold, Jennifer’s breath wafted across my face, hot and sticky, her voice harsh in my ear. Some small, incoherent sound escaped my mouth, and Jennifer slid her free hand to my throat. Traitorous tears rolled down my cheeks. So much for dying with dignity. Her fingers pressed along the column of my throat, and she whispered, “Ami couldn’t finish the job though.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fearful that Jennifer was truly going to strangle the life out of my body. I was sure she—as opposed to Ami—could “finish the job.” But thankfully, she moved her hand away and slid her arm back around my neck in a kind of loose chokehold.

“So I stepped in,” she resumed, the cold metal at my temple a reminder that Jennifer could shoot me just as easily as strangle me. “I dragged Hannigan out to the water. In her weakened state, she hardly fought. But it still took longer than I thought it would to drown her.”

It was all so horrible and cold-blooded: Ami strangling Chelsea to near-death, and then Jennifer stepping in and drowning her to finish the job. “Stop,” I groaned. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

But it was as if Jennifer hadn’t even heard me. “After it was done, we dragged her up in the caves,”—Oh my God, the caves!—“left her to rot. And now you’re going to join her.”

Terrified as I was, I managed to choke out, “You won’t get away with it twice.”

“Oh, but I will,” she said coolly. “Everyone will assume you shot Jimmy, as they do already. And then, when you just disappear, it will look like poor Ward went off the deep end for the second time.”

She laughed evilly, and I gasped, “No!”

Jennifer was going to frame Adam. All the years Adam had spent being the prime suspect in Chelsea’s disappearance, even still was, it was easy to imagine the police would put him through the same kind of hell once I went missing.

“Come on, Fitch,” Jennifer said, pulling me with the arm still wrenched around my neck. “It’s time to take a walk up to the caves and finally put an end to this.”

In a last-ditch effort to stall her, I asked, “What about Ami?”

Jennifer paused and looked down at Ami’s still form. She’d been out for a while so I tried to play on Jennifer’s sympathy. “She should see a doctor,” I uttered in little more than a whisper, since Jennifer’s grip was so damn tight. “She should have woken up by now.”

“She’ll be fine,” Jennifer said. “In fact, this will work out even better. Now, when she shows back up at home, she can claim she hit her head and had amnesia for a few days. Nobody will question it, since they all know she’s a little whacked.”

Jennifer started pulling me toward the door, but I struggled. “Quit it, or I swear, I’ll knock you out before we get to the caves,” she warned.

I was torn on whether to take my chances and continue to struggle, or see if I could get away from her once we left the lighthouse. In any case I knew that if Jennifer succeeded in dragging me up to those caves, I’d be done for.

But I didn’t have to think about it for long, because, out of the darkness, a familiar voice broke through the noise of our scuffle. “Let her go, Jennifer.”

Adam!



I’d never been so happy, and so terrified, all at the same time. I tried like hell to break free but quieted when Jennifer reclaimed her grip, and the gun was once again pressed to my temple. And then I froze completely when I caught sight of Adam in the doorway, his own .38 pointed at Jennifer. But I knew he couldn’t shoot her. It was too risky. If he missed, he might hit me. Even if he did succeed in targeting Jennifer, her gun could still discharge, shooting me. And she must have been thinking the same thing.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jennifer chided. “If you shoot me, my gun goes off and BAM! Your little girlfriend’s brains are all over the ground.”

Adam winced at Jennifer’s vivid words, but he took a step closer, his gun steady, his eyes never leaving her. “Hold it right there, Ward,” Jennifer warned. “Or I will shoot her, I swear. Don’t test me.”

Adam slowly began to circle the lighthouse interior, his movements shadowing Jennifer’s. Jennifer and I were edged closer to the door. I was sure if she got us out that door, Adam would be on her heels. She wouldn’t get far. She was going to have to rethink her original plan. If she did shoot me, Adam would surely kill her. She had to know that.

“Give it up,” Adam said, echoing this very thing. “Let her go.”

Adam took a slow step to his left, and his foot made contact with Ami’s arm, peeking out from under the stairway. He glanced down ever so quickly, and Jennifer tensed. But Adam was faster, and his gun swiveled back to Jennifer instantly. “What the f*ck is she doing here?” Adam growled, referring to Ami.

Jennifer began to chuckle. “You really never knew, did you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

From his expression it was evident Adam had no clue why Ami was lying unconscious on the floor of the lighthouse. As far as he knew, she was just a harmless, unstable girl who worked for him and had recently gone missing. Hell, he liked her so much that he’d even ensured the missing person’s report had gone out early.

Yeah, Adam had not known this tidbit, and in a way I was glad. He hadn’t deceived me, and it proved he’d given Ami the benefit of the doubt, even with her mental problems. But now he was about to find out the truth.

“J.T. wasn’t the only one your slut-fiancée was f*cking around with,” Jennifer said, glee in her tone at disseminating this tawdry information. “In fact, your girlfriend here has the photographic evidence. I saw it myself this morning in the mail, and I noticed her car at the café earlier, so I know she has the photo.”

So that was how she and Ami had known to put their plan in motion, why they’d trapped me here at the lighthouse. As I feared someone had seen the envelope from Jimmy, in this case Jennifer. And knowing I’d end up turning the photo in to the police once I saw who was in it, they knew it was time to act.

Except the one thing puzzling me was that Ami hadn’t known Jimmy had made a copy of that lone incriminating picture until I’d told her. Even though Jennifer had seen the mail and figured it out. It was looking more and more like Jennifer had been the mastermind behind this whole thing. She’d obviously kept certain elements of the plan from her own accomplice, even while putting said plan into motion this morning.

I glanced over at Adam. He appeared angrier than ever, having digested Jennifer’s words. “What photographic evidence?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

Jennifer nudged the gun against my temple, and I heard Adam growl in response. “Show him, Fitch,” she demanded, oblivious to Adam’s escalating anger.

Jennifer loosened her grip around my neck. From my jacket pocket, I shakily pulled the folded piece of paper that held the image of Ami kissing Chelsea. Before I had a chance to lift it, Jennifer snatched the paper from my grip, unfolded it, glanced at it with a snort, and tossed it in Adam’s direction.

The piece of paper flitted to the floor in front of Adam, and he knelt down slowly to pick it up, his gun remaining trained on Jennifer.

“See, Ami is just as involved in this as I am,” Jennifer whined as Adam glanced at the image on the paper. “And now, you know her motive,” she added with a snicker.

Adam crumpled the paper in his hand as he rose to his feet. Though he appeared calm, I saw a myriad of emotions in his eyes. Ami Dubois-Hensley had kept her secret so well hidden that not even Adam—the man who seemed to know everything— had uncovered this piece of information. He’d underestimated Ami, as had everyone.

But, then again, how could anyone have known? Ami had admitted to paying off Old Carl, Billy’s once-upon-a-time bartender, for all the incriminating photos. And Jimmy had misplaced the only remaining photo, recalling it after I showed up and started asking questions. And threw a little money his way.

Of course, none of it mattered now. We had the evidence to clear Adam once and for all, but Jennifer was determined to get rid of me. Adam might have ruined her original plan to murder me, hide my body in the caves with Chelsea’s, and allow Adam to be blamed for another inexplicable disappearance, but I could tell Jennifer was improvising some alternative plan even as we spoke. And that couldn’t be good.

“You and Ami killed Chelsea?” Adam asked quietly.

“No,” Jennifer replied, “You killed Chelsea.”

Adam looked perplexed, but I sensed the panic in Jennifer’s voice. She was starting to lose it. She pressed the gun harder into my temple, and I cried out in pain. Adam started toward us, but Jennifer stopped him in his tracks when she yelled, “Hold it right there, Ward, or she’d dead. You can shoot me after, but she’ll still be gone.”

It was obvious Jennifer wasn’t bluffing. Adam must have sensed it because he halted. But I’d never seen a person more furious. If looks could kill, Jennifer would have been a goner.

Oblivious, Jennifer said, “Now take your cell out, Ward. You’re gonna call the police and give them a long-overdue confession.”

No! This turn in her sordid plan was insidious. I’d rather be dead than allow Adam to take the fall for Chelsea’s murder. Of course I’d probably end up dead, regardless. But I could go down fighting.

Adam was removing his cell from the back pocket of his jeans when I cried out, “Don’t do it, Adam. Please.”

Jennifer hissed in my ear, “Shut up!”

I began to struggle, despite my fear of getting shot. I could hear Adam saying something as I managed to put some space between me and the cold steel of the .38. In response Jennifer wrenched my neck hard, leaving me gasping for breath.

But then, suddenly, a loud shot rang out, deafening me. Jennifer’s grip tightened, and I couldn’t breathe. But then her hold on me inexplicably loosened. I began to fall, certain that I’d been shot. Jennifer’s body fell onto mine, but I felt no pain. Maybe this is what dying feels like? Painless.

As I lay drifting in and out, somebody lifted Jennifer’s weight from me. I heard voices and then felt someone lifting my head from the ground. “Adam?” I whispered, opening my eyes as I felt his welcome touch.

“Maddy,” Adam whispered, “My God, I thought I lost you.”

His hands gently ran over the swelling on my cheek where Ami had hit me with the gun, and I winced. I struggled to sit up, and Adam helped me to my feet. “What happened?” I asked, my ears reverberating from the gunshot that had rung out so close to my head.

Before Adam could answer, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Max stepped into the lighthouse, smoking gun—literally—in hand. I relaxed back into the warmth of Adam’s chest as Max bent down over Jennifer’s very still body. “She’s dead,” he said somberly, releasing his fingers from around her wrist, where I supposed he’d been checking for a pulse.

Max had shot and killed Jennifer Weston. He’d saved me. He’d saved Adam. It was now more obvious than ever why Adam employed him as security here on the island.

“Took you long enough,” Adam said in a tone that would have sounded light in other circumstances, but now it just sounded grim. “I was worried I’d pressed the wrong key.”

I later found out Adam had somehow managed to call Max from the cell phone that had been in his back pocket. He had Max on autodial, and at some point during the ordeal, he reached back and hit what he’d hoped was the correct key. Thank God it had been the right one. I shuddered, imagining what might have occurred if Max had not arrived or if he had gotten here too late.

Adam held me close to his body, and I looked up at him, hoping my eyes conveyed the emotions no words ever could. “I’m sorry,” I said to him, wanting to apologize for having ever mistrusted him.

But just then Ami let out a moan as she began to come to. Max glanced at Adam questioningly. Adam grimaced and said, “She was in on this whole thing. But we finally have the answer to what happened to Chelsea. These two”—he nodded to Jennifer’s still body and then to Ami—“killed her.”

“And I know where they put her body,” I muttered, my voice weak.

Both Adam and Max eyed me, stunned. I told them all Ami and Jennifer had told me, finishing with how they’d dragged Chelsea up to one of the caves within the cliff face. Even before I’d finished my story, Max was on the phone with the police.

Adam wrapped his arms around me, holding me in a way that showed me he truly realized how closely he had come to losing me. “Let’s go outside,” he murmured into my ear. “Max can keep an eye on Ami until the police get here.”

I glanced over my shoulder; Max was cuffing a disorientated Ami to the metal railing. I’d seen enough, so I allowed Adam to lead me from the lighthouse, out into the welcoming cool air of night.

Under a black velvet sky that I was thankful to be walking beneath, waves crashed all around us. Adam and I walked silently, hand in hand, along the sandy stretch leading down away from the lighthouse, and then Adam stopped, turning me to face him. “Maddy,” he began, his voice catching. “I don’t know what I would have done had I lost you.”

“Adam,” I soothed, “you saved me. How did you even know I was here? Did you see the note?”

He nodded. “Yeah, and when I got here, I saw your car at the top of the cliffs. But you’re wrong about one thing.”

I looked up into his face, beautifully lit by a sliver of moonlight peeking from behind a lone cloud. “What’s that?”

Adam took a deep breath, and said, “Actually you saved me. You’ve shown me how to trust again. You’ve shown me how to live, how to love. And I love you, more than you know, Madeleine Fitch.”

I stepped toward him, pressing my body to his, soaking in all his warmth and strength and love. “I love you, too, Adam Ward,” I replied reverently.

Adam bent down, his lips grazing mine. “It’s finally over,” he muttered against my mouth.

I caught his bottom lip with my own lips and then kissed him back, slowly and languidly, savoring his taste and the feel of his skin against mine. Breaking away just long enough to speak, I amended his words, “No, Adam. All the bad stuff is over, yes, but for us this is just the beginning. Our beginning.”