Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(36)

“What was she yelling about?” I looked over at him, watching his features, beautiful still, even as he recalled that night.

“Most of it I couldn’t make out.” Adam ran his fingers through his hair. “It was a short call, but there were a couple of things I caught. She wanted me to tell her to stop whatever it was she was about to do.” He shrugged. “And something else, like, she’d turn around and come back if I’d tell her I still loved her.”



“And did you tell her you still loved her?”

“No,” Adam said, pained. “I told you, I hung up on her. I didn’t love her anymore, and I couldn’t lie.”

I wanted so badly to question him further about why he was marrying someone he just admitted he no longer loved, but frankly I was afraid. There had to be another way to investigate the validity of the blackmail claims. Asking Adam point blank about that particular rumor was just too intimidating.

So, instead, I focused on the phone call. “What did she mean when she asked you to tell her to stop whatever it was she was going to do? What was she up to?”

“Good question. I don’t know, probably nothing. Chelsea had a flair for drama.”

I looked down and asked softly, “Why didn’t you tell the police about the call, Adam?”

“What good would it have done? That call didn’t shed any light on what may have happened to her. It didn’t even make sense. And the police were already focused on me as the primary suspect. Why would I give them yet another reason to not even consider other possibilities?” His hand was at my chin again, urging me to look into his eyes. “Maddy, I need for you to believe me. I had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

I held his gaze, searching for any indication of guilt. He seemed so sincere.

“Do you believe me?” Adam quietly asked.

My heart and mind were at war, but my heart won this round. “I believe you, Adam,” I said softly.

His pained eyes filled with gratitude. He leaned down and curved his lips to mine in a simple gesture that spoke more intimately than any of the lust-filled kisses we’d previously shared. “Thank you,” he murmured, looking exhausted as he pulled away and leaned his head back against the sofa.



Thankfully our conversation drifted into less emotionally charged territory. We talked about the trip he’d been on. Making my earlier concerns that he’d used his trip as an excuse to see Lindsey seem even more foolish, he told me he’d not been anywhere near Boston. His business had been in Washington, DC. He didn’t elaborate on the nature of his business there but instead talked of restaurants and museums, and how we should fly down there some time so he could take me to those very places. Eventually we both grew weary and found ourselves stretching out on the sofa, my back to his chest, his arm draped over my shoulder.

In the waning hours of the afternoon, silence descended, and I fell into the best sleep I’d had in over a week, wrapped in the comforting warmth of—what I hoped was—an innocent Adam.





When I woke up, it was dark. Everything was quiet, except for Adam’s steady breathing coming from behind me. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I’d not eaten for hours. Delicately I extricated myself from Adam’s arms, being extra careful not to wake him, and then I tiptoed into the kitchen, where I began to rummage around for something to eat.

I was pretty certain Adam would be hungry as well, so I decided to make some pasta and a salad. I put water on to boil and took some vegetables out of the refrigerator, all the while trying to be as quiet as possible. Unfortunately I dropped a wooden bowl as I was setting the table, and minutes later a disheveled Adam appeared in the doorway. Sleepy and tousled but still one fine-looking man.

“Hungry?” I asked, holding up a head of lettuce and a tomato.

Adam stretched, and my eyes were drawn to the way the fabric of his shirt pulled taut over his well-muscled torso. “Starving,” he replied, yawning.

He chuckled when he caught me staring at his body, so I quickly looked away and said, “It won’t be long if you want to have a seat.”



Adam pulled out a chair and sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

I could not think of a single thing for him to do—other than just sit there and continue to look incredible—so I went with, “No, I think I have it. But thanks for offering.”

Soon the pasta was ready, so I drained the softened noodles, scooped some onto each of our plates, and ladled tomato sauce overtop. Adam thanked me as I placed our dinner on the table, and I smiled in return as I sank down into the chair across from him.

It took me a few minutes into our meal, but I finally worked up enough nerve to bring up the case once again. I still had a few questions. And I had an offer of my own.

Since Adam already knew why I was on the island, I told him I was willing to share all I’d uncovered so far in my investigation. He’d been honest; now it was my turn to reciprocate. On a roll I even confessed that I had a copy of the case files and, going one step further, offered to let him read through them. But surprisingly Adam waved it off. “I’ve already seen all those files—”

I gasped, interrupting him. He rolled his eyes. “Do you honestly think you’re the only one with the right connections, Maddy? I read those files a long time ago.”