Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(13)

With a renewed sense of purpose, I threw back the thick pile of blankets and got out of bed, yelping when my bare feet hit the hardwood floor. Brrr, cold. I’d forgotten to turn up the heat before retiring for the night, and now it was damn nippy in here.

With a quick peek out the blinds, I was not the least bit surprised to be greeted with a steel-colored sky, winds strong enough to kick up little tornadoes of soggy—but still brightly colored—leaves, and a view of the tempestuous sea. This last muted by a dense film of fog.

Yes, it was true Fade Island weather, and I’d better get used to it. A steaming hot shower helped warm me up, but it was the oversized fisherman’s knit sweater that I threw on over my long-sleeved tee and jeans ensemble that promised to keep the island’s perpetual dampness at bay.

Tromping down the stairs, running a towel through hair that just refused to dry, I was startled by two heavy knocks on the front door. Who would be calling at this early hour? As foolish as it was, a part of me hoped it was Adam.

But when I peered through the peephole in the door, a fish-eye, distorted image of a hulking mass of a man greeted me. Though he wore a dark gray raincoat, the hood was down. His light brown hair was shorn close to his scalp. And, though he couldn’t have been much older than thirty, his features gave him a hardened appearance. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, not at all, but he looked like he’d seen far more than he should have for his years.

There was only one person on the island who fit that description, and I guessed from the two potted, white-flowering plants that he held carefully cradled—one in each arm—that this man, Adam’s security, had come to apologize.

“Maddy Fitch?” he ventured when I opened the door a crack.

I gave him a quick nod, and he continued, “I’m Max”—just as I suspected—“I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to stop by in person to apologize for scaring you last night.” He shook his head regretfully. “If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.” He offered his hand, while attempting to balance the plants in the crook of one arm.

He didn’t seem like such a bad guy in the light of day, so I opened the door the rest of the way and shook his hand. He readjusted the potted plants, and I asked if he needed some help with his floral cargo. “They’re actually for you,” he said, lowering one plant to the doorstep and handing me the other.

“They’re white mums,” I mused, slowly turning the blossoming plant in my hands.

Ami sure hadn’t wasted any time getting the word out that I was in the market for some white chrysanthemums. Had she mentioned it to Max, the security guy? Or to someone else? Like, maybe, Adam.

Though he had no idea I was thinking such a thing, Max confirmed my suspicions when he said, “Mr. Ward told me he’d heard you wanted this kind of flower to plant in the window box, so he suggested I give them to you as a kind of peace offering for last night.”

My face warmed at the mention of Adam’s name. I looked down at the snowy blossoms. Interesting how Ami mentioned my inquiry to “Mr. Ward,” and he just happened to remember the exact details. All I said to Max, though, was a simple, “Thank you.”

I handed him the plant, and he placed it gently next to the other. “I’ll just leave them here, if that’s OK,” he said, nodding to the doorstep.

“That’s fine,” I said and thanked him once more.



“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Max said as he turned to leave, but then he hesitated. “Oh, one more thing.” He dipped into the pocket of his rain jacket and pulled out a damp card. “Uh, Mr. Ward wanted me to give you my number, in case you ever need anything.”

I took the card and gave it a glance: Max Cleary and a phone number. I thanked him, and we said our good-byes. I watched him drive away in a dark green Hummer, and then I went back in and entered his number into my cell phone contacts. Tapping the phone to my chin, I wondered why Adam would want me to have this phone number. Max was in charge of security for the island, sure, but as proven, that really equated to security for Adam. What possible trouble could Adam expect me to get into out here on the island? If the trouble happened to involve Adam himself, Max would be of no use to me.

But what if the trouble involved someone else? Was Adam trying to protect me from someone in particular? One of the island residents? Or someone who had access to the island?

The questions were piling up, and it was high time to start getting some answers. I tossed my cell onto the coffee table and crossed to the bookcase. I yanked the case files from their hiding spot, spread them out on the dining room table, and began to delve into the facts relating to the disappearance of Chelsea Hannigan.

The files were divided into two sections, one for the Harbourtown portion of the investigation, and one for Harbour Falls. There were reams and reams of official reports from both police departments, dozens of notes from a slew of officers and detectives who had worked on the case, and several grainy still photos taken from surveillance footage.

This is what I found in the Harbourtown section:

In July, four years ago, following a church rehearsal, a dinner was held the night before Adam Ward and Chelsea Hannigan were to marry. Having interviewed everyone in attendance, the police concluded that nothing out of the ordinary had happened at the church. However, at the dinner that was held afterward, back at the hotel—where most of the guests were staying—a number of people reported that Adam and Chelsea had gotten into a rather heated argument. What it was about? Nobody could say. But a lot of people did report that Adam took steps to avoid Chelsea for the rest of the evening.