Harbour Falls

Epilogue



On a snowy afternoon in early December, Adam and I returned from California. We’d stayed longer than expected; hanging out at my house in LA, dinners with Katie and my other friends out there, and just generally sharing with Adam all of my favorite things about Los Angeles. And then we’d traveled up to San Francisco, where we spent Thanksgiving with his parents. Trina and Walker even flew out to meet us, so it turned out to be quite the Ward family holiday.

But now we were back, back on Fade Island. I was too tired to schlep down to the cottage, so I decided to spend the night at Adam’s place. In truth, we’d spent so much time together it felt weird to go our separate ways. But go our separate ways we did, because, despite my opting to stay at his place, Adam ended up getting pulled away by business, as usual. Nate had stopped by to tell him he’d missed a lot, so they’d left together to presumably get Adam up to speed.

This was how I found myself curled up in front of a roaring fire in Adam’s living room, going through a stack of mail Nate had handed to me before he’d left with Adam. Some of it was mine and some belonged to Adam, so I began the task of separating the pieces into two piles. Not surprisingly, my pile was significantly smaller.

Stifling a yawn, I continued to go through the bills, letters, even a few early Christmas cards. Adam Ward. Adam Ward, Adam Ward, the man sure did get a lot of mail. Finally, I reached the final item, a letter, addressed to me. When I noted the return address, despite the heat from the fire, I shivered. It was from Willow Point. And there was only one person I knew who currently resided at Willow Point, Ami.

I fought the urge to toss the envelope into the fire, but curiosity was getting the best of me. Besides, it looked innocuous enough. I couldn’t imagine what reason Ami would have for contacting me, especially since the last time I’d seen her she’d been trying to kill me. So yeah, I was a little wary. But at Willow Point Ami was receiving treatment for her mental issues. Maybe this was part of some recovery process. Offer an apology of some sort to help the person move on, that sort of thing. So without further ado, I tore the letter open.

Two photocopied newspaper pages tumbled out. Upon further inspection it appeared both were identical, and both were from the same little-known newspaper in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The one that had published the article detailing Adam’s suspicious stock trade from several years earlier that had brought him under the scrutiny of the SEC. In fact, these were exact duplicates of the one I’d found in Adam’s desk drawer. How bizarre. The only difference was that these were not yellowed, not originals apparently. My heart hammered in my chest. How had Ami found this article? And what would it mean that she had? God, had her ex-lover, Chelsea, told her what Adam had once done—traded on insider info? And why had Ami sent two?

I took a closer look at the two photocopied pages, put them side by side. On first glance, they appeared identical. I scanned each page furtively, awash in a feeling of queasiness. OK, same page, same edition, same date. All the surrounding articles were identical too. But it was the article detailing Adam’s stock trade from all those years ago that differed. So they weren’t identical after all. One page was an exact copy of the newspaper page I’d found in Adam’s desk drawer, the other told quite a different story.

Sure, it detailed the particulars of Adam’s fortuitous stock trade. But there was absolutely no mention of any wrongdoing. No words of suspicion, no reference to an SEC investigation. Nothing. In fact, it was actually a rather glowing write-up of Adam. More in line with the kind of thing one might expect from a small publication such as this one. So what the hell did it mean? What was going on here?

I flipped one page over and found a printed note on the back, a personal note from Ami. It read:



Which one is real, Maddy? Did you not wonder why only a tiny newspaper in Cambridge would publish a sensational story involving insider trading, especially if the accused was a wealthy, brilliant MIT student? Would a story so big remain undiscovered? Silly girl! Did you really think Adam would allow you to just happen upon the biggest secret of his life? Put those fine investigative skills back to work. Trouble is brewing. Helena knows something. I suspect Adam does too. And your dear lover’s future may depend on you uncovering the real truth. There’s just one catch: don’t tell Adam anything. Not just yet. Come visit me at Willow Point—I’ll give you the next piece of the puzzle. Tick tock, the clock is ticking. Hurry, Madeleine.

See you soon!

—Ami





I stared at the note for ages, the crackling fire filling the silence. Was this some kind of a sick joke? After all, Ami was messed up. But, in my heart, I knew it wasn’t.

One of these articles was genuine, and the other was obviously a fake. But if the SEC article was the fake one, meaning Adam had never been under scrutiny, then why had he hid that version in his files in the locked desk drawer? Had he, as Ami seemed to elucidate, allowed me to find it? I’d suspected as much at first, but then I concluded the unlocked drawer was Adam’s way of letting me uncover what Chelsea had held over his head. Had this not been it? Had he never even been under investigation? Perhaps he had just lucked out in the trade that netted him millions. It would explain why I’d never come across any mention of an SEC investigation. And Ami’s words rung true. How could a story so big remain hidden?

But how in the hell did Ami Dubois-Hensley know about all of this? Had she somehow been in on the ruse? Had the article been a decoy? Something to throw me off from discovering the real secret Adam held? And did this real secret have something to do with Ami? What did she mean by “trouble is brewing”? And how in the hell did Helena play into all of this? The meaningful glances Adam and Helena had thrown each other’s way that day she came over were now looking suspicious.

And if the SEC stuff was all just a smoke screen—one Ami had obviously been in on from the way things were looking—then Adam had never actually told me what Chelsea had been blackmailing him with. And if he’d cooked this up as a diversion, then whatever it was, it had to be something far worse. And that chilled me to the bone. So, yeah, I certainly would be putting my investigative skills back to work. And soon.

In fact one of the first things on my agenda was going to be a visit to my one-time best friend and, more recently, the person who’d attempted to kill me. That was bad. But what was worse was that now I’d have to go to the creepiest place in all of Maine—Willow Point.



Look for another Harbour Falls Mystery—Willow Point—in 2013.



Acknowledgements

It’s been a crazy, fun ride getting Harbour Falls ready for publication. Writing the story was only half the battle, one I couldn’t have done without the support of family and friends. And lots of Red Bull. Seriously though, I can never thank my parents enough for their encouragement and belief in me. A special acknowledgement goes out to Soul, Biel, Stephie, Lusi, Rosa, Michelle, and so many others for all the encouragement for me to keep writing, especially early on. And a huge shout-out goes to Laura for too many things to list.

Thank you to my Create Space team, especially my editor, Barbara. And a special thanks to Damon at Awesome Book Covers for putting together an amazing cover design. Also over at Awesome Book Layouts, thank you to Benjamin for some very awesome print and e-book layouts, and for being patient with my endless emails and questions.

Finally, to Tom, I couldn’t have done it without you. You got me through the rough patches and are always a sounding board for ideas. I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know. And here we go again…



About the Author

S.R. Grey is the author of Harbour Falls, first in the Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy. She resides in western Pennsylvania. Grey has both a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration from Robert Morris College, as well as an MBA from Duquesne University. And though she enjoys working in sales and consulting, her true passion lies in writing. Other interests include reading, traveling, running, and cheering for her hometown sports teams.