Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(5)

Colorful, two-story storefronts stood on both sides of the road: a teal-blue hardware store, a general store painted the color of a freshly unfurled spring leaf, a store selling candy—the pink exterior a perfect match to the bubble gum advertised on a placard in the window. All the businesses were closed for the season. The proprietors, who generally lived in the second-floor apartments, had gone back over to the mainland. We passed darkened building after darkened building until we reached the last one on the left.



A cute, olive-colored affair with a paned picture window and an awning big enough to shelter patrons from the rain was not closed. The scalloped front edge of the dark green awning flapped erratically in the wind, intermittently obscuring the bright white lettering that read: Café. The lights inside blazed. Aha, this was where the fisherman with the lobster boat would be procuring his coffee.

“Why’s that one not closed for the season?” I asked Ami, pointing to a small sign in the window that was turned to the side that proclaimed it was open.

“Nate’s wife, Helena, keeps it open year-round. She runs the place. The fishermen passing by the island appreciate a place where they can stop and grab a cup of coffee. Besides, there are always people going back and forth, even during the off-season.” Ami slowed to a crawl. “The café is also where you’ll pick up your mail. It comes over every weekday on the ferry. And you can order groceries through Nate and Helena. I don’t know if your dad told you, but Nate’s the manager of Fade Island.”

I nodded absently, because I had already heard that from my dad. And I found it odd. Nate had been almost as adept as Adam at things like computer programming and software development. In fact, I recalled a time that together they’d hacked into the school computers and changed all the grades. So why was Nate just “managing” this island? Or was it some kind of cover?

Ami cleared her throat and, in a worried voice, asked, “You do remember Nate and Helena from high school, right?”

“Of course I remember them,” I replied.

And I did. Quite well in fact. In addition to his skill with all things computer-related, Nate had been the star quarterback for the football team—big, muscular, mocha-colored skin, amiable brown eyes. Yeah, he was a good-looking guy. And one of the nicest. I remembered him always trying to make me laugh. He had a legendary sense of humor.



Back then and apparently now, based on their close proximity, Nate and Adam had been best friends. And they’d been teammates. With cheering crowds of Harbour Falls residents—myself included—Nate Jackson had thrown many a winning touchdown to his top wide receiver, Adam Ward.

Helena, who had dated Nate since sophomore year, was his perfect match—friendly and fun to be around. With her model-like looks—beautiful, long legs, blonde hair, and big, expressive blue eyes—it would have been easy to hate her. But quite the opposite was true; everyone adored her. In fact, she and Nate were voted “Most Perfect Couple” senior year.

But things were far from perfect for Helena. Following her parents’ particularly unpleasant divorce, her mother met and married what seemed like the first guy who came along. Helena was just fourteen. At first her new stepdad appeared to be an average guy in almost every way: average looks, average build, average job. He even had an average name, Ron. He was the kind of guy people passed on the street and forgot about a second later.

But Ron’s anger wasn’t average. He had a violent temper, and before long the whole town bore witness to the bruises his rages left on Helena and her mother. After all, even the best makeup doesn’t always conceal a black eye.

Thankfully, during her freshman year away at college, Helena’s stepdad left her mom, taking off for places unknown with no explanation. The general sentiment was good riddance. At the time Helena had been attending the University of Maine with Ami. In fact, she and Ami shared not just a dorm but a room as well.

At the end of freshman year, though, Helena quit college and moved down to Massachusetts to be closer to Nate. He was attending, and playing football for, Boston College. They were married in a small, private ceremony shortly thereafter. And that was it. I’d heard nothing more. It was strange to think that they’d ended up living out here on secluded Fade Island. Something to look into, for sure.



Ami resumed her slow crawl up toward the northern boundary of Main Street, to where it turned into a paved, two-lane road twisting through the forest on the west side of the island.

Ami was pointing to an olive-colored bungalow adjacent to the café, so I focused my attention back on the here and now. “That’s Nate and Helena’s house,” she said.

The home was fairly large, with an elaborately landscaped front lawn. “But Helena spends most of the day at the café,” Ami continued. “If you’re trying to catch her, always check there before you go anywhere else. She’s almost always there.”

Another bungalow, this one smaller and also painted olive-green, sat directly across from Nate and Helena’s. “Who lives there?” I asked.

“Max,” Ami replied. “He was in the military a while back, did a few tours of duty. But now he handles security here on the island.”

“Is he a police officer for Harbour Falls then?” I asked, knowing Fade Island, though privately owned, still fell under the Harbour Falls jurisdiction.