Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(33)

Helena had somehow found out about our interrupted date, probably from Nate, who I was sure had heard about it from Adam. Helena had already left almost as many voicemails as Adam himself. When I didn’t respond to any, she threatened to drive out and break down my door if I didn’t, at the very least, let her know I was OK. So I texted back that I was hanging in there, and I’d talk to her eventually, but I just needed some time to myself. That seemed to have calmed her.

Running low on food, I reluctantly placed a small grocery order online but then couldn’t bring myself to open the door when Nate knocked. Standing on one side, peering through the peephole, I waited until he finally gave up and placed the groceries on the step. “Maddy, I know you’re in there,” Nate had said. “I’m going to leave these here, but locking yourself away from the world isn’t healthy, you know.”



“I know,” I’d whispered, leaning my head against the smooth wood door and listening as Nate drove away.

My father was another issue entirely. He wanted to rush out to Fade Island and move me back to Harbour Falls as soon as possible. He only relented when I solemnly promised to stay away from “that Ward guy,” as he had put it.

So far keeping that promise was proving to be a snap.

As September faded into October, I discovered holing up in my cottage gave me a lot of time to think. And I waffled back and forth, wondering what I should do. Give up on the case? Scrap the book idea? Forget about Adam? I wasn’t sure what to do with any of those things.

The day after the date-that-had-gone-all-to-hell, I became so despondent that I called my agent, Katie, since she was also my best friend. Barely holding back tears, I’d told her that I was ready to break my lease and return to Los Angeles. I was done with Fade Island and everything associated with it. She reminded me that Maddy Fitch didn’t give up so easily. I made a commitment, and I should stick with it. Besides, the case really did have the makings of a great book. Her words gave me pause; I promised to reconsider. However, that didn’t mean I was ready to jump right back into the investigation.

Instead I found a better hiding spot for the case file—under a loose floorboard in the living room—and forgot about the Harbour Falls Mystery. Or maybe I just pretended to forget as I kept myself preoccupied with mundane tasks.

Busy, busy, busy, I was like a whirlwind, cleaning the already-spotless cottage daily. In eight days I’d done the laundry—four times, reorganized my closet twice, alphabetized my shoes, and when I’d run out of domestic projects, I had plopped down on the sofa and eaten all four tubs of H?agen-Dazs chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream Helena had so thoughtfully snuck in with my grocery order.

With nothing left to do, it was no surprise I now found myself bored. Bored to tears. I paced around the living room, back and forth, back and forth. Enough. Tentatively I went to the front door and opened it a crack. I’d not been out of the house in days.



Indian summer was now upon us, and it was beautiful outside. The two white-flowering chrysanthemum plants from Max still rested on the doorstep. It’s as good of a day as any to finally get them planted in the window box, I said to myself as I eyed the pots.

Yes it was.

So I slammed the door and jogged up the stairs to change my clothes. I threw on an old, faded pair of jeans and a black tee. The jeans sat kind of low on my hips, and the tee was cut off at the midriff. It was a little risqué for gardening with that much exposed skin, but it wasn’t like I was expecting company. Nope, not on this island. There was little chance I’d even be seen. So I slipped on some old, beat-up Chucks, found an old, but still usable, garden trowel under the sink, and went outside to get to work on the flowers.

I knelt below the window box and worked the plants free from their plastic pots. I then carefully placed one mum—and then the other—in the rectangular structure. There was dirt already in the box, and as I worked, I found the sun-warmed soil a soothing balm for my frazzled nerves. A light ocean breeze rustled through the leaves, and I leaned my head back, allowing the sun to warm my face. Despite my indecision in the days leading up to this one, it was at that exact moment I knew, without a doubt, I would stay on the island until I found all the answers I was seeking. I’d finish my investigation, no matter what.

Resolved, I stood, swiped my hands clean, and brushed away some dirt from my jeans. I stepped back from the window box to admire my handiwork, and just then I heard a familiar—and currently unwelcome—sound of a car engine. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Adam’s Porsche pulling into the driveway.

“No way,” I hissed through gritted teeth, while quickly calculating the distance to the front door, wondering if I could get there faster than Adam if I made a run for it.

“Maddy, wait,” Adam’s voice rang out as I bolted for the door. What the hell is he doing here? Had I not made it clear I didn’t want to see him? Persistent, much?





Obviously he was back from the business trip. He’d never mentioned where he’d gone. Maybe back to Boston? Where Lindsey lived. As I lunged for the doorknob, I had myself convinced his trip had probably included a visit to his former hookup. Especially since I’d left him hanging on date night. Bastard, I thought as I worked myself into quite the angry frenzy.

Just as I was shouldering the door open, almost in the clear, Adam’s hand glanced down my arm. “Fuck. Just stop for a minute, OK? This is getting to be ridiculous.”