Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(109)

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?