Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(91)

“Would you care to explain why this”—Crowley tapped the incriminating evidence—“was found in a trash bin under the bar at Billy’s?” When I didn’t answer, he put his hands on the table and leaned toward me. “Your prints, Ms. Fitch, are all over it!” he hissed.

“I didn’t kill Jimmy,” I suddenly cried out, standing.

I felt Hoffman’s hand on my shaking arm, silencing me, urging me to sit back down. “My client is invoking her fifth amendment rights,” he said sharply, with a light squeeze to my arm to remind me to keep quiet.

Crowley laughed darkly. “Fine, but let me tell you this…” I glanced up, and his eyes locked with mine. “If Bill Fitch wasn’t your father and a man I respect, I’d arrest you right now.”

Detective Mitchell moved in to calm his colleague, while Hoffman interjected, voice raised, “You’re out of line, Detective. I will not allow you to speak to my client in that manner. You have nothing here but circumstantial evidence at best.”

“Bullshit!” Detective Crowley fumed, shucking Mitchell’s hand off his arm. “We have a body and a suspect who is lying. I can name you hundreds of cases where the defendant was convicted on far less!”

Mitchell grabbed Crowley again and this time pulled him back, all the while apologizing for his colleague’s outburst. Hoffman’s only response was to remind both detectives that the five minutes had elapsed, and that we were done here.



Detective Mitchell refused to meet my gaze as my attorney steered me to the door. But Detective Crowley threw me a parting glance that promised he’d not let this slide.

Hoffman led me gently out into the hallway, and I thanked him for everything. He offered to walk me down the hall to the room where Adam was waiting. On the way he assured me there was no need to worry. The evidence was weak. “Circumstantial evidence doesn’t hold much weight with a jury, Ms. Fitch, despite Detective Crowley’s claims to the contrary,” he said.

I didn’t really know what to say in return. God, I sure as hell didn’t want things to get to the point of being arrested, let alone be faced with a trial.

As we walked Elliot Hoffman asked for clarification on a couple of the answers I’d given, but he never once asked me if I was innocent. I didn’t think he really cared. He’d been hired to be my advocate, and he was going to do his job. And, no doubt, he’d do it well.

When we reached the waiting room, I stopped abruptly. I was done thinking about the events of the day. All I wanted to do was fall into Adam’s arms. It was there that I felt safe and protected.

Unfortunately, when we stepped into the room, I realized my plans would have to be put on hold. Adam was not alone. There was somebody else in the room with him, waiting for me and looking less than pleased. It appeared my earlier fears had been confirmed. Someone had contacted my father, and now he was here.

Well this is going to be…awkward, I thought, sighing.





Chapter 24



My dad stood across from Adam, the full distance of the tiny waiting room, a gulf neither appeared willing to cross. Instead both acted as if the other wasn’t there. Adam stood leaning casually against the wall closest to the door, raven locks falling across his forehead as he scanned a Wall Street Journal. The mayor was standing as far away from Adam as was humanly possible on the opposite side of the room. His arms were crossed, his posture stiff, and his eyes everywhere but on the man he’d asked me to stay away from.

My dad caught sight of me and hurried over, ignoring both Elliott Hoffman to my right, and Adam, who lowered the paper and met my apologetic gaze. Wrapping me in a hug, he said, “My God, Madeleine, what the hell is going on?”

“Mayor Fitch,” Adam interjected, straightening.

I suspected this was the first either had spoken to the other in this small, enclosed space.

My dad spun to face him. “You!” he said through clenched teeth. “There’s nothing you have to say that I care to hear.”

Adam took a restrained step back, and my father moved toward him. “I knew my daughter would end up in some kind of trouble hanging around with the likes of you. I warned her to stay away.”

“Dad, stop!” I pleaded, taking note of Adam’s terse expression. “Dad, Adam is helping me, OK?”

“Yeah, I bet he is,” the mayor said with a derisive scoff, sweat beading on his brow.

After the day I’d had, this was just too much to take. I didn’t want the two most important men in my life at each other’s throats like this. The only way to diffuse the situation was to speak with my dad alone. Hoffman had already made himself scarce, having retreated back out to the hallway. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw he was busy with his Blackberry, paying absolutely no heed to the unfolding drama. Geez, that man is cool as a cucumber.



When I turned back, both Adam and my dad were watching me. I supposed they were waiting to see what my next move would be. And it was this: I asked Adam for a few moments alone with my dad. He nodded, shot a parting look of aggravation to my father, and then joined Hoffman in the hall. When the door clicked shut, I turned to face my irate dad. His eyes held all the disappointment I’d expected to see. Maybe more. He’d obviously been briefed, and I was sure no detail had been spared.

“Dad,” I whispered, dropping my eyes to the floor in shame.