replied reverently.
Adam bent down, his lips grazing mine. “It’s finally over,” he muttered against my mouth.
I caught his bottom lip with my own lips and then kissed him back, slowly and languidly, savoring his taste and the feel of his skin against mine. Breaking away just long enough to speak, I amended his words, “No, Adam. All the bad stuff is over, yes, but for us this is just the beginning. Our beginning.”
Chapter 29
On a bitter, cold November morning, Chelsea Hannigan’s body—or, rather, what remained of it—was recovered from the back of one of the many caves that lay recessed into the jagged cliff face overlooking the lighthouse. Skeletal remains and a few tattered shreds of a once-vibrant sundress were spirited away to the crime labs in Harbour Falls for final analysis. Though there was no doubt from the preliminary tests that were conducted on the scene that the remains were, in fact, those of the woman who’d once been engaged to Adam Ward.
Once the police were finished with both scenes—the cave, and the lighthouse, where Ami and then Jennifer had held me captive—the news of what had happened spread like wildfire, and the media descended onto our usually quiet community.
The story had enough tawdry details, as well as the resolution of a mystery that had haunted the Harbour Falls area for half a decade, to keep the general public hungry for details. Fortunately, since Adam owned Fade Island—and it was, therefore, private property—he was able to keep the news crews and nosy reporters far away from the actual scenes of the crimes. But that didn’t mean we’d been left to our own devices over on the island. No, quite the contrary.
My dad, the mayor, had rushed over only hours after the police had arrived on the scene at the lighthouse. My father was so grateful for Adam’s intervention that, much to my surprise, he’d grabbed Adam in a manly, awkward way and hugged him. Yeah, actually hugged “that man,” Mr. Adam Ward. So I guess you could say miracles do happen.
Following my father’s visit, Trina and Walker arrived, spent a couple of days. Nate and Max also paid many a visit to Adam’s compound, where I was still staying. Additionally the phones seemed to ring continuously. There were calls from my best friend and agent, Katie; Adam’s parents; my brother, Brent, in Chicago; and many, many more concerned friends and acquaintances. Even Julian had called. But I made sure to take that call in a different room, away from Adam.
Everyone was thankful we’d survived Ami and Jennifer’s machinations, and they were all relieved that the Harbour Falls Mystery had finally been solved. So much so that nobody seemed to care that I’d been secretly investigating the mystery all along. I guessed the outcome justified the means.
But among the many visitors and callers there was one notable exception—Helena. I’d yet to hear from her. I found it odd, but her absence was just one of many still unanswered questions that lingered in the days following the lighthouse incident.
Today, however, Adam and I would soon be finding out at least some of those answers. Detective Mitchell was venturing over to the island to bring resolution to many of our case-related queries. The question of why Helena was staying away would have to wait. For now.
Adam’s voice brought me back to the here and now when I heard him speaking outside the study with Detective Mitchell. I’d retired to Adam’s workspace to look over my own notes regarding the case. I’d long since decided not to write the original novel I’d come here to research and pen. But I had another idea. And I couldn’t wait to get Adam’s opinion on it.
I folded up my notes and was moving from Adam’s big, comfy desk chair to one of the two situated on the opposite side of the desk just as Detective Mitchell and Adam came into the room. Adam motioned for the detective to take the seat next to me, and then he settled into his own chair behind the desk.
Once we were all comfortable, the good detective began to speak. “First, Miss Fitch, I’d like to apologize for any, uh, inconvenience the last couple of weeks may have caused you.”
Inconvenience? I’d been accused of murdering Jimmy Kingston and suspected of involvement in what turned out to be the phony disappearance of Ami Dubois-Hensley, so I couldn’t help but scoff. But I knew Detective Mitchell’s intentions were sincere, so I nodded warily