Harbour Falls

Chapter 29



On a bitter, cold November morning, Chelsea Hannigan’s body—or, rather, what remained of it—was recovered from the back of one of the many caves that lay recessed into the jagged cliff face overlooking the lighthouse. Skeletal remains and a few tattered shreds of a once-vibrant sundress were spirited away to the crime labs in Harbour Falls for final analysis. Though there was no doubt from the preliminary tests that were conducted on the scene that the remains were, in fact, those of the woman who’d once been engaged to Adam Ward.

Once the police were finished with both scenes—the cave, and the lighthouse, where Ami and then Jennifer had held me captive—the news of what had happened spread like wildfire, and the media descended onto our usually quiet community.

The story had enough tawdry details, as well as the resolution of a mystery that had haunted the Harbour Falls area for half a decade, to keep the general public hungry for details. Fortunately, since Adam owned Fade Island—and it was, therefore, private property—he was able to keep the news crews and nosy reporters far away from the actual scenes of the crimes. But that didn’t mean we’d been left to our own devices over on the island. No, quite the contrary.

My dad, the mayor, had rushed over only hours after the police had arrived on the scene at the lighthouse. My father was so grateful for Adam’s intervention that, much to my surprise, he’d grabbed Adam in a manly, awkward way and hugged him. Yeah, actually hugged “that man,” Mr. Adam Ward. So I guess you could say miracles do happen.

Following my father’s visit, Trina and Walker arrived, spent a couple of days. Nate and Max also paid many a visit to Adam’s compound, where I was still staying. Additionally the phones seemed to ring continuously. There were calls from my best friend and agent, Katie; Adam’s parents; my brother, Brent, in Chicago; and many, many more concerned friends and acquaintances. Even Julian had called. But I made sure to take that call in a different room, away from Adam.

Everyone was thankful we’d survived Ami and Jennifer’s machinations, and they were all relieved that the Harbour Falls Mystery had finally been solved. So much so that nobody seemed to care that I’d been secretly investigating the mystery all along. I guessed the outcome justified the means.

But among the many visitors and callers there was one notable exception—Helena. I’d yet to hear from her. I found it odd, but her absence was just one of many still unanswered questions that lingered in the days following the lighthouse incident.

Today, however, Adam and I would soon be finding out at least some of those answers. Detective Mitchell was venturing over to the island to bring resolution to many of our case-related queries. The question of why Helena was staying away would have to wait. For now.

Adam’s voice brought me back to the here and now when I heard him speaking outside the study with Detective Mitchell. I’d retired to Adam’s workspace to look over my own notes regarding the case. I’d long since decided not to write the original novel I’d come here to research and pen. But I had another idea. And I couldn’t wait to get Adam’s opinion on it.

I folded up my notes and was moving from Adam’s big, comfy desk chair to one of the two situated on the opposite side of the desk just as Detective Mitchell and Adam came into the room. Adam motioned for the detective to take the seat next to me, and then he settled into his own chair behind the desk.

Once we were all comfortable, the good detective began to speak. “First, Miss Fitch, I’d like to apologize for any, uh, inconvenience the last couple of weeks may have caused you.”

Inconvenience? I’d been accused of murdering Jimmy Kingston and suspected of involvement in what turned out to be the phony disappearance of Ami Dubois-Hensley, so I couldn’t help but scoff. But I knew Detective Mitchell’s intentions were sincere, so I nodded warily in acceptance of his apology.



“Detective Crowley sends his apologies as well,” Mitchell continued. At that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and he added contritely, “Of course, we both thought it best he not deliver his message in person.”

Good call, I thought. I was glad Detective Crowley had remained in Harbourtown, as I sure didn’t care to see the man who’d been all set to send me up the river. But to Detective Mitchell, I just nodded.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, and Adam cleared his throat. “So, Detective, what did you wish to speak with us about today? You said on the phone that you had some information.”

“I do,” Detective Mitchell said. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Ami Hensley has been extremely cooperative.”

Adam and I glanced at one another hopefully. The last thing either of us wanted was a long, drawn-out trial. Now that the mystery was solved, we were anxious to put it behind us. We were ready to move forward. If Ami was willing to confess to all she’d done, our hopes could be realized.

“What does that mean exactly?” I asked, waiting for clarification.

“It means Mrs. Hensley has confessed to everything.” Adam and I let out collective breaths. “The planning and attempted murder of Chelsea Hannigan, murdering Jimmy Kingston, assault and battery on you, Miss Fitch.” He nodded to me. “She confessed it all. There’s more too: kidnapping, obstruction of justice, destruction of evidence. Need I go on?”

Both Adam and I shook our heads, and Mitchell added, “Suffice it to say, Ami is going to be locked up for a very, very long time.”

“In jail?” I asked.

Detective Mitchell shifted in his seat. “Actually we’ve worked out a plea. In exchange for her confession, Ami will be sent to a facility for the criminally insane.”

“Willow Point?” I asked timidly.

The detective nodded, and I winced. Willow Point was not much better than prison. Maybe worse if certain stories were to be believed. But Ami would probably receive better treatment for her disorders there than in prison. Or at least I hoped that would be the case. I glanced at Adam to get a gauge on his thoughts, but his expression was unreadable.

Adam ran a hand over his face and quietly asked Detective Mitchell, “What made her decide to plead guilty?”

I wondered as much myself, especially since Ami had guarded her secrets so intently—not to mention very successfully—over the last several years.

“Her husband,” Mitchell replied, and then he turned his gaze to Adam. “Sean Hensley said convincing her to plead was his way of saying ‘thanks’ to you.”

Poor Sean Hensley, just another victim in all of this. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the torment he must feel at knowing the true depths of Ami’s instability. Perhaps he’d wanted to return Adam’s favor—helping him when he believed his wife to be missing—but I was sure Sean had his own personal reasons for wanting to avoid a very public trial. In any case I was grateful, and I found myself hoping he could someday pick up the pieces and eventually move on with his life. Sean deserved some kind of happiness after all that had happened.

Detective Mitchell then provided answers to many of the questions Ami’s confession had raised.

For example, unbeknownst to me, Jennifer had followed me on my very first visit to Billy’s. I hadn’t even thought to look for people trailing me that day. Jennifer was also the one who sent Ami to LA, to try to waylay my burgeoning investigation. She had suspected right from the very beginning that I would investigate the Harbour Falls Mystery. After all, my books were murder mysteries. And she worried that unaccounted-for evidence could begin to surface with someone like me digging around. She’d been right to worry.

Detective Mitchell also told us where Ami had holed up during her faked disappearance. There was a seedy roadside motel named Fowler’s that was located on the outskirts of Harbour Falls. It was the kind of place where no questions were asked, and patrons could retain complete anonymity. Jennifer had rented a room there and hid Ami away in the rundown establishment. Thus giving the woman who’d killed Jimmy time to lay low and subsequently appear to have gone missing. And to more easily implicate me, of course.

Detective Mitchell was getting ready to go, when I suddenly remembered that my dad had told me the police had taken a statement from J.T. O’Brien. Mostly to find out what he’d known of Jennifer’s involvement in the mystery. So I asked, “What about J.T. O’Brien? Was he involved in any way?”

Detective Mitchell shook his head and surprised me by saying, “No, not at all.”

My eyes met Adam’s. We’d not been able to find the location where I’d witnessed J.T. burying something over on the east side of the island, even when we’d driven back down with Max yesterday. The recent storms had left the area in shambles. Trees downed everywhere, ruts in the access road turned into gushing torrents. It had been impossible to discern where J.T. had been digging. I’d told Adam I wanted to try again, but he stood firm, insisting that whatever J.T. had been doing, it had nothing to do with the case. Now it appeared he’d been right.

Adam’s gaze held mine, and I was sure he wanted to convey that it was time to scrap any further plans to locate that spot.

Well, we’d see about that.

Detective Mitchell, noticing our silent communication, cleared his throat. Adam and I both looked away. “Uh, one more thing you may be interested in hearing.” My eyes returned to the detective. “O’Brien admitted himself to an eight-week rehab program over in Bangor. He’s pretty broken up about this whole thing, and I guess he wants to start fresh.”

Adam had told me he’d heard from his sources—probably Max—that J.T. wasn’t taking it particularly well that Chelsea Hannigan had been murdered by his ex-wife. For as much as I was no fan of J.T.’s, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. After all, Chelsea had influenced the path he’d taken. Unfortunately for him, he had really loved her.

Now that Jennifer was dead, Brody stood to inherit Jennifer’s half of the business, so he and J.T. would be the sole owners of the ferry service. If J.T. could finally get help with his addiction, maybe he’d find his way after all. I knew somewhere behind all that vitriol was the kind, gentle J.T. I’d once known and cared for.

I was sure Adam was less concerned with J.T.’s well-being, but he was still thoughtful enough to state, “Maybe O’Brien can finally get sober now that he can put all of this behind him.”

I knew he was speaking for my benefit, so I whispered a heartfelt, “Maybe.”

Detective Mitchell left shortly thereafter. I sat for a bit longer in the study just thinking. Adam walked the detective to the door, and when he returned, he pulled the chair next to me close and sat down. “You holding up?” he asked, taking my hand in one of his own.

I breathed out. “I think so. It’s just been a lot to take in.”

“I know,” Adam soothed, his thumb caressing the back of my hand. “What can I do to make things better?”

I closed my eyes for a few seconds. “I think…I think I need a break from Fade Island. I don’t know. Maybe get away for a few days.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a break from me?” Adam asked, and though his tone was light, I saw sadness in his expression when I opened my eyes.

“Of course not,” I exclaimed, placing my free hand on his cheek and capturing his gaze. “I love you, Adam. I just want to get away for a little while. But not alone. I want us to go somewhere together.”

Relief washed over his features, and he said softly, “Wherever you want to go, Maddy, just tell me.” A grin formed on his lips. “After all, we have a plane at our disposal…as well as a pilot.”

For all of the places I could choose—exotic locales, world-famous cities—there was only one that called to me. A place that was the antithesis of all that was wet and cold, a place far away from this island. “I want to go to Los Angeles,” I said.

Adam appeared surprised, so I elaborated. “You can see where I live. You can meet my agent, Katie. She’s my best friend out there. I want to share with you what my life is like in California.”

“I’d like that,” Adam replied, smiling.

“Speaking of meeting important people in our lives,” I started. Adam cocked a curious eyebrow, and I continued, “When do I get to meet your parents?”

Back when I’d lived in Harbour Falls, I’d seen Dr. Ward and his elegant wife around town from time to time. But I never really knew them. But now, being involved with their only son, it seemed important to do so.

“I wasn’t aware you were all that interested in meeting my parents,” Adam replied.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I want to meet them. After all, they did produce you,” I teased.

Now it was Adam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Fair enough,” he said. “Last I spoke with my dad he said they were in San Francisco. We can fly up there from LA.”

I was happy with that, but there was another thing weighing on me. And it had been since the resolution of the mystery. I wondered what was next for us, for our relationship. Where did Adam and I go from here? Though I had an idea for a new book, I wasn’t sure where I’d be writing it. I had one month left on my lease. But I wanted to stay longer, write my next novel here. Adam, though, hadn’t asked me to stay. The thought of leaving Fade Island saddened me beyond words, because I didn’t want a long-distance relationship.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the doorbell interrupted. “Expecting someone?” I asked.

“No,” Adam replied. “You?”

I shook my head as the buzzer sounded again, this time with insistence. Adam dropped my hand and went to answer the door with me trailing behind.

When Adam opened the door, to my surprise, there stood Helena. “Oh, Maddy, I feel so bad,” she said breathlessly as she rushed in, engulfing me in a hug. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here for you. There’s just been so much… Never mind.”

“It’s fine, Helena,” I said. “And you’re here now.”

Helena stepped back, breaking our embrace, but keeping her hands on my elbows. “Are you OK?” Her blue eyes, looking somewhat troubled, swept my form.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “But is everything all right with you?”

“Uh.” Her hands dropped to her sides, and she glanced meaningfully to Adam. “There was, uh, something I had to look into over in Harbour Falls.” Her eyes darted to Adam’s once more, and she added, “Something to do with my mom.”

The whole exchange was odd, and I turned toward Adam, but his expression quickly morphed from worried to unreadable. Okaaay.

I asked Helena, “You mom’s fine though, right?”

She nodded, and the subject was dropped. Everything went back to normal, and we spoke for a while longer.

After she left, Adam and I went upstairs to begin packing for our trip to California. At first he and I discussed only our plans for the trip, but then, as I tossed a pair of jeans into the open, and very overflowing, suitcase on Adam’s bed, I ventured, “Did Helena seem a little off to you?”

“She seemed fine,” he replied, maybe a little too hastily.

“Why was she looking at you like that?” I asked as I attempted to zip up my too-full suitcase.

Adam gently tugged the zipper from my hand, turning me to face him. “Maddy, you know Helena and her mom have been through a lot. Do you remember her stepdad?”

Of course I did, so I said, “Yes.”

“Helena still worries about her mom,” Adam continued. “Even though everything’s been fine since that man took off.”

I recalled how Helena’s horrible stepdad—her mom’s second husband—had skipped town one day, after years of abusive behavior toward Helena and her mother. Since Adam had been such close friends with Helena, because of Nate, I was sure he’d been privy to even more than what was common knowledge among the Harbour Falls townsfolk. It had probably been worse than everyone imagined.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said quietly, feeling like I’d somehow intruded.

Adam put his hands on my shoulders. “Hey,” he said, “you can ask me anything, you know this, right?” I nodded, but Adam looked sad. “Maddy, there’s so much more I want to share with you, but it’s not my story to tell.”

It made me love Adam even more to see how much he valued his friends. I couldn’t help but smile at him. “What?” he said.

“I just love you,” I replied, wrapping my arms around him.

“I love you too,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss my neck. “So what’s next?”

Something about Adam’s tone of voice, I knew he was asking something important. Could he finally be asking about my staying?



Sucking in a breath, I dared to whispered, “What do you mean?”

Adam straightened, and his eyes met mine. “What’s next for us, Madeleine?” he replied, pulling me closer. “Where do we go from here?”

“You tell me,” I countered, lowering my gaze.

Time stood still, while I waited for Adam’s response.

Quietly he whispered, “I want you to stay. I don’t want you to leave the island. Stay for the winter at least.”

I nodded, but Adam wasn’t finished. “I never told you what my surprise was going to be the day you ended up down at the lighthouse.” Adam winced, I supposed at the memory, still fresh, of what I’d endured.

Curious to find out what he’d been planning, I said, “So what was the surprise?”

“You know the room next to my study?” Though I’d never been in it, I nodded. “Well I cleared it out a couple of weeks ago, changed some things around. That night I was going to ask you to help me get it ready…” Adam trailed off.

“Ready for what?” I asked, now more curious than ever.

Adam’s eyes, such a clear blue today, met mine. “I wanted you to have a room here all to yourself where you could write. I still do. I know you can write at the cottage, but you should have a spot for when you’re up here.”

I loved the idea, and I was touched he’d thought of it. I told him as much, and asked, “So what are you asking, Adam?”

“I want you to stay here on the island and write your book. Spend the winter here. We can spend it together, and hopefully I can convince you to stay even longer. Will you stay?””

My heart soared. “Of course I’ll stay.”

Adam walked me backward to the bed, where he pushed the suitcase off with one hand. Clothes tumbled out and to the floor, but neither of us gave it much thought. We were too engrossed in one another as we fell onto the downy comforter, quickly tossing our own clothes to join the pile on the floor.

An hour later, as we lay spent in one another’s arms, Adam asked, “What are you thinking about?” His hand toyed with my hair as I lay sprawled across his bare body.

“My next book,” I replied, lifting my head to rest my chin on his chest.

“Hmm,” he mused, eyebrow cocked. “Another mystery, I presume?”

Adam knew I’d decided not to write about the Harbour Falls Mystery, but it appeared he still expected me to pen a mystery of some sort. Crawling up so that my face was inches from his, I ran my hands through the sable locks I loved so much. “No,” I answered, “I’m thinking about writing something a little different this time.”

“Different?” Adam murmured, brushing my hair back from where it lay draped around us. “Different how?”

“I think I’m done with mysteries for a while,” I stated. “I’m going to write a love story instead.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, flipping me easily so I lay beneath him. Above me, he moved his body suggestively against mine. “And what inspired this?”

Breathless, my lips found his, showing him who—not what—had been my inspiration. Within seconds we were one, and as we moved together, I knew that no matter what kind of creative love story I came up with, it was never going to be as amazing as this one right here.