Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(86)

Adam steps into the café, and I run to him, pleading with him to get me out of there. He leans down to kiss me, telling me everything will be fine. But as our lips move together, I suddenly feel the air being sucked out of my lungs. Gasping, I open my eyes. And I’m not kissing Adam. I’m kissing Chelsea. And she’s pale, cold, and dead.





Monday morning was cold and dreary, a light drizzle ushering in November. Jeans, layers of long-sleeved tees, a beige wool sweater, and my trusty hiking boots, and I was ready to face the day. Ready to go to Billy’s—hopefully for the last time—and get the picture from Jimmy. My heart raced with the anticipation of finally discovering who was in the Polaroid with Chelsea.

Nervous, but resolute, I locked up the cottage and headed down to the dock, scanning the area to see who was around. The café nightmare had made me especially uneasy at the prospect of having to deal with Jennifer or, God forbid, J.T. this early in the morning. But to my relief, J.T. and Jennifer were not around.

Instead it was Brody who waited for me to board the ferry. Always a gentleman, he smiled and helped my aboard, and then we were off. I was uncharacteristically chatty, surely due to nervousness, but Brody seemed preoccupied and tired, yawning almost incessantly. I got the hint, so I buried my head in a magazine I’d brought along to pass the time.

Once we reached the mainland, I quickly surveyed things. No sign of J.T., no Jennifer. Excellent. I hurriedly got the BMW out of the garage and raced toward Harbourtown. This excursion needed to be quick and anonymous, and so far, so good.

Paranoid that Adam had somehow discovered what I was up to, I kept a check on the traffic behind me, periodically glancing up to the rearview mirror. But there was no Max trailing me. In fact, I had the road mostly to myself, unlike the last time I’d traveled this route. Or the first time. With such light traffic, I reached Billy’s in no time at all. I parked along the side of the building, got out, and locked my car doors. It was always lonely down here, but today seemed exceptionally desolate, with no other cars or people in sight in the area around the bar. I guessed Halloween had been quite the party night down here by the docks, and now the revelers were all home recovering.



I hustled to the entrance. As I shouldered the door open and stepped inside, an unexpected chill ran down my spine. Breathing in the smell of stale beer and sweat I’d come to associate with Billy’s, I detected an unusual, underlying scent. Something so pungent I skidded to a stop just as the door slammed shut behind me. What I smelled was the scent of fear and…something else, something metallic.

I glanced around, my eyes adjusting to the dim interior. The string of Halloween lights Jimmy had strung up behind the bar was on, giving everything an eerie orange and purple cast. But otherwise everything looked normal. Well, as normal as Billy’s could look. A half-empty mug of beer rested on the bar, but not a soul was in sight. It was quiet, too quiet. Jimmy always played music, but today the only sound was a steady drip of water coming from somewhere in the back room.

“Jimmy,” I called out, taking a tentative step forward. “Is anybody here?”

My hollow voice echoed, and I sensed there was something terribly wrong. My heart raced, but I continued to take small, shuffling steps, forcing myself to keep walking toward the bar. Closer, closer, but then I slipped, quickly grabbing hold of a bar stool to steady myself.

I glanced down to the dusty, wooden floor. A piece of white paper or something was stuck to the heel of my hiking boot. Reaching down, I peeled it away. It wasn’t a piece of paper after all. It was an envelope. A shaky, childlike “M,” printed on the front in black marker, the only marking on it. A lump rose in my throat, because I knew in my heart that the “M” was for Maddy, and Jimmy had been the one who’d written it.

This was it—the picture! I turned the envelope over and lifted the flap, all the while my hands trembling. But the envelope was empty. There was no photo, nothing.

Had Jimmy dropped the envelope before having a chance to put the photo in it? No, that wasn’t right. Panic set in. Why was the envelope even on the floor? Had someone removed the photo and dropped the envelope? That was looking like the most likely scenario. But if so, who?



“Jimmy?” I called out once more.

Nothing.

Dizziness overtook me, so I closed my eyes. Count to ten...breathe slowly. I slid my hands from one bar stool to the next, letting them be my guide to the end of the bar. When I reached the final stool, I opened my eyes. Coming here was a mistake, a terrible mistake. I felt it with every fiber of my being. And when I leaned around the edge to look behind the bar, my fears were confirmed.

Lying on the floor, in a widening pool of blood, was Jimmy—a single bullet hole marring the pale skin of his forehead.





Chapter 23



The shock of it all knocked the wind out of me, I truly couldn’t breathe. I dropped to my knees, my heart hammering in my chest. My gaze swept over Jimmy’s still form. Nobody could lose this much blood and be alive. My mind refused to accept it though. I placed a shaky hand along the cool skin of his neck, feeling for a pulse. Please, even a weak one, I prayed.

But nothing, nothing. Jimmy was dead.

I yanked my hand back and watched helplessly as the pool of blood beneath his head slowly widened. Sickened, I scooted away and fumbled in my bag for my cell. Once in my shaky grasp—with Jimmy’s blood on my hands, literally and figuratively—I dialed 911. And then I dropped the phone back into my bag and waited.