Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(83)

“I don’t know, maybe. If we head down there before it rains I could probably find the mound.”

The look Adam gave me told me I’d misunderstood. “I meant pointing out where you were on a map,” he said quietly.

With that, I nodded. But I knew I’d never be able to pinpoint the exact location on a map. I’d been so scared, I’d be lucky if I could find the right spot even if I did go with Max—though it sure would be more likely.

But I’d try it Adam’s way…for now.





The next morning I gave Max the best directions I could, trying to remember the exact lay of the land in the area where I’d seen J.T. The map was really no help at all. I could estimate, but I wasn’t sure how far down I’d traveled. I ventured a guess that I’d been about halfway to the lighthouse. When I mentioned that tidbit, Adam and Max exchanged an odd glance. Then Max folded up the map and took off in his Hummer.

When Max returned later that day and told us he’d been unable to locate any signs of the ground having been disturbed where he’d searched—no mound of dirt, no disturbed leaves—it came as no surprise to me. I insisted I’d have to go with Max if there was any hope at all of pinpointing the exact spot J.T. had been. But Adam quickly vetoed that plan. Instead he came up with an alternate plan to be employed the following day. The three of us—Adam, Max, and I—would go back and investigate the area as a group.



Unfortunately the weather had other ideas. Heavy rains moved into the area that night, making the likelihood of our getting back down the rugged access road—even in Max’s all-wheel drive vehicle—slim to none. So we delayed the plan for the following week. It was necessary anyway, because Adam was leaving for Boston the next morning for another three-day business trip. He was so close to closing the deal that I couldn’t help but be excited for him. Even though I’d be lonely until he returned on Sunday, which just happened to be Halloween. At least I’d have one treat to look forward to, Adam’s return.

So things were on hold.

I knew in my heart J.T. had been up to nothing good in those woods, and I suspected Adam felt the same way. Why was J.T. digging around in the most remote part of an already remote island? He was obviously burying something he intended to keep secret. Or maybe—and this one made my blood run cold—he’d been digging up and reburying something.

Yes, maybe J.T. O’Brien was reburying a long-hidden secret, because he feared somebody was close to discovering the truth. And that somebody was me. So if J.T. knew what I was doing, and I was getting close to uncovering secrets meant to stay hidden (or buried), then what exactly did that mean for me?

The question was: Did I really want to find out?





Chapter 22



Sunday, the last day of October, started out ordinarily enough. The mild temperatures we’d enjoyed the previous week were long gone, and we now found ourselves dealing with a bout of horrendous weather—ice-cold blowing winds and a relentless driving rain. It was the type of weather that had earned Fade Island its reputation as a most inhospitable place this time of year. Standing at the window in my sweats, a warm mug of cocoa in my hand, I watched the downpour from the comfort of my living room. Yeah, it appeared fairly certain I’d be spending the day in the toasty warmth of the cottage.

Sometime in the early afternoon, Nate arrived with a small grocery order I’d placed online the day before.

“Happy Halloween, Maddy,” he exclaimed cheerfully, despite his semi-soaked attire, when I answered the door.

“Oh geez, Nate, hurry and get in here,” I said, stepping aside so he could get in out of the weather.

“I completely forgot it was Halloween,” I continued, catching up to Nate as he headed to the kitchen with the two bags of groceries in tow, a trail of big, wet footprints in his wake.

“Easy to do around here,” he began, but just then a booming crash of thunder shook the foundation, making us both jump. “Then again, maybe not,” he amended.

I laughed in agreement and stopped next to the table as he set the bags down. “Do you want a cup of coffee before you go back out in this mess?” I asked.

“No, thanks. There’s plenty back at the café.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” I began. “Helena will be back tomorrow morning, right?”

The café had been closed for two weeks now with Helena still in Boston visiting with Trina.

“Nope,” Nate said, his tone indicating this was not a subject he cared to spend too much time discussing. “Actually there was a change in plans. Helena’s back in the area, but she’s been staying over in Harbour Falls with her mom.”

“Oh, is everything OK?” I ventured, recalling all the trouble those two had once endured at the hands of her abusive stepdad.

Nate, usually so easygoing, tensed. “Uh, yeah, no worries. She’ll be back by Tuesday.”

Silence descended, the sound of the heavy rain pelting the slate roof of the cottage punctuating the lull. Uncomfortable, I grabbed a package of cookies from the top of one of the bags and set it on the table. “Adam is supposed to be coming back today. But who knows with this weather,” I flung my hand toward the window, and then continued to ramble as I began to take groceries out of the bag closest to me. “He may be stuck in Boston until tomorrow. He’s trying to close some kind of deal.” A can of green beans I’d been grasping slipped from my hand, clattered to the floor, and rolled toward Nate.