he said, “I was just coming to look for you.”
From the look on Adam’s face, I knew something was up. When I asked him that very question, he didn’t respond directly. Instead he moved aside and asked me to come in. A loud thunderclap reverberated—making me jump—as I stepped across the threshold.
As he sat back down behind his desk, Adam appeared to be less than amused when I laughed at my own skittishness. “Madeleine, why is your cell phone turned off?” he snapped, while leaning back in his chair.
“It’s charging,” I responded, taking a few steps closer to the desk. “Why?”
“Hoffman has been trying to reach you all morning.”
A sick feeling came over me, and I shifted from one foot to the other. “Why? What’s going on?”
Adam closed his eyes and was silent for a minute. Oh, this is going to be bad.
When he opened his eyes, he said quietly, “The police want to talk to you.” He hesitated. “It’s about Ami’s disappearance.”
“What?” I murmured as I sank into the leather chair across from him. “They don’t think…?” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Adam raked his fingers through his hair. “Besides Sean, you were the last person to speak with Ami. And the authorities know she was on her way to see you.”
“Adam, this can’t be happening.” I covered my face with my hands.
Before I knew it, Adam was kneeling in front of me. I felt a tug at my hands and intertwined them with his. “Shhh,” he soothed, warming my hands in his own. “It’s just another formality, nothing to worry about. Hoffman will be here with the detective—”
“They’re coming here?” I interrupted, just as another low rumble of thunder rolled ominously overhead.
“Yes, but it’ll just be Detective Mitchell.” Adam eyed me carefully, probably to make sure I fully comprehended that the nicer of the two detectives—Mitchell, not Crowley—would be the one questioning me. I nodded, and he continued, “And remember, Hoffman will be here as well.”
Adam hesitated, and I knew there was more. Sure enough, he said, “Maddy, you should know that the Harbour Falls police are now working with the Harbourtown PD on this one.”
“’Cause they think it’s connected to Jimmy, right?” I stated dully. “They suspect me in both cases. Oh, Adam, this is bad.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he reminded me. “Just let Hoffman do most of the talking. It won’t take long. Less than an hour, I’m sure, and then it will be over.”
Adam knew the drill with these things. No surprise there, since he’d been through a number of interrogations and questionings of his own over the years.
“So when will they be here?” I asked, suddenly feeling queasy at the prospect of more questions—questions to which I had no real answers. Or rather answers that I couldn’t divulge.
Adam tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Soon, another hour. Maybe less, since they want to get this wrapped up before the storm hits.”
The huge storm that had been in the forecast was promising to deliver a knockout punch by evening. A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, and both Adam and I turned to the window just in time to watch it sizzle into the sea.
Yeah, a storm was brewing, and it was promising to be a big one.
Max drove Detective Mitchell and Elliott Hoffman up to Adam’s compound following their arrival to Fade Island. Max took a seat in the foyer, while Adam ushered Hoffman, Mitchell, and me into his study. Detective Mitchell looked unsure when Adam offered his stately desk chair to him, but he sat down, nonetheless, and set up a small recorder after taking out his trusty notepad and pen.
Hoffman and I settled in the seats across from Mitchell, and Adam leaned casually against the wall by the door. The detective seemed about to say something, probably to ask Adam to leave, but held off when their eyes met in a meaningful stare. The implication was clear: Adam may have graciously given up his chair, but the trade-off was that he would be staying for the questioning.
Clearing his throat and focusing his attention back on me, Detective Mitchell said, “I’m sorry to be bothering you again, Miss Fitch, but this has to be done. I promise to keep it short.”
I gave him a tight smile and nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Hoffman shifted in his seat, and Mitchell got down to it, mumbling some preliminaries into his recorder and then asking, “Are you acquainted with a female named Ami Dubois-Hensley?”
“Yes.”