Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(37)

“Oh, OK,” I mumbled dejectedly, crunching into a bite of salad.

“Anyway,” Adam continued, “I have no desire to rehash the details of the case. It’s part of my past, and I’d like to keep it that way. Do what you need to do, but keep me out of it, got it?”

“Sure, I can do that. But you really don’t mind if I continue to look into it?” I asked, somewhat baffled that he wasn’t asking me to shut down my investigation. Maybe this was proof enough that he was innocent.

Adam twirled his pasta unconcernedly. “It’s just research for a novel, right?”

It suddenly dawned on me that, of course, Adam would naturally assume I was writing another work of fiction. He probably thought I was utilizing the case files as some kind of general outline. I was suddenly grateful I’d not gone off about my trip to Billy’s nor revealed that there was a mystery blonde Chelsea had been photographed kissing.



I had to rethink things. Maybe it was best to keep my real plans—to write a nonfiction account of the Harbour Falls Mystery—a secret after all, so I responded with, “Yeah, just the usual background research I do before sitting down to write.”

Adam held my eyes for a moment, searching. I kept my expression neutral, and he finally said, “In that case I don’t foresee any problems.”

After we were finished eating, and Adam helped me clear the table and load the dishwasher, we sat back down at the kitchen table. “I hate to eat and run, but I really do have to get going,” he said.

I glanced at the florescent-blue digital readout on the stove; it was only a little after eight. Nights were boring and lonely at the cottage, and had been especially so during my week of seclusion.

“Already? Why?” I blurted, and then added in a softer voice, “I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d stay longer. I thought maybe we could watch a movie together.”

“I wish I could, I really do. But there are some things I have to take care of before tomorrow morning.” Adam reached over and caressed my cheek. “Trust me, I’d much prefer spending the evening watching a movie with you than catching up on work. But duty calls.”

“That’s fine, I understand,” I said.

Adam must have detected the disappointment in my tone, because he offered, “Maybe another night?”

“What about tomorrow night?” I paused, and then added, “It is a Friday after all, the start of the weekend.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, smiling. “How ’bout I get here at seven?”

“Perfect,” I replied.

When Adam left he did so with only a chaste kiss to my cheek. Tease, I thought, when I noticed him suppressing a smile. Was he still withholding kisses? We’d see just how long that would last. I smiled as I envisioned movie night with Adam Ward…curled up on the sofa.



But I wanted to look more appealing than this. I glanced at my apparel—yeah, the wrinkled tee and dirt-smudged jeans look was not going to cut it if I wanted to really capture Adam’s attention. Although the exposed skin at my midriff had not gone unnoticed by him, I wanted to wow him with a sexier look. Silk couture, a la date night, might be a bit much, but I’d have to find something more enticing for tomorrow night.

While I sat mentally sifting through potential outfits, guilt began to nag at me. Reminding me that honesty—not some contrived outfit—was the real foundation of a burgeoning relationship. Adam had been honest with me about the phone call. It seemed wrong to let him go on believing I was planning on writing some fictional novel. But what choice did I have? I feared he’d ask me to stop if I told him the truth. And honestly, I didn’t want to give up on the investigation. I didn’t want to give up on the idea of a nonfiction book about the disappearance, and more than anything, I really didn’t want to give up on Adam.

So what would happen if—or when—he found out I’d lied to him? I’d cross that bridge when I came to it, and if it did come to pass, I surely hoped he’d understand.





Chapter 10



Friday afternoon was spent fully emerging from my week of self-imposed isolation. First I called Helena to let her know everything was fine and promised to stop into the café sometime the following day. The trill of conversation punctuated the background, and when I asked who was there, Helena said Jennifer had brought somebody over on the ferry, and she was in the middle of filling their order for two lattes to go. Before I had a chance to question her further to find out who had arrived on Fade Island, Helena yelled out a hasty, “I gotta go, talk to you later,” and disconnected.

My next call was to my father. He kept stressing that Fade Island was a lot closer to Harbour Falls than Los Angeles, but sometimes it didn’t seem that way. So after catching the hint that my father was missing his daughter, I made plans to head over to the mainland and visit him on Sunday afternoon. That seemed to brighten his day considerably.

After I hung up, I glanced over to where I’d hidden the case files, in their new spot under a loose floorboard by the bookcase. I knew I should go back over the material, review it some more, but I wasn’t really up to delving back into the mystery. Not just yet.

For one thing, I was too preoccupied thinking about the night ahead—movie night with Adam. And after the week I’d just had, I wanted one night where I could pretend there was no mystery, no missing person, no unsolved case. I wanted to be Maddy Fitch—a girl who was looking forward to spending a fun, flirty evening with a guy she was falling for. Tonight I didn’t want to be Maddy Fitch—the writer investigating a complicated cold case and getting in way over her head.