in acceptance of his apology.
“Detective Crowley sends his apologies as well,” Mitchell continued. At that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and he added contritely, “Of course, we both thought it best he not deliver his message in person.”
Good call, I thought. I was glad Detective Crowley had remained in Harbourtown, as I sure didn’t care to see the man who’d been all set to send me up the river. But to Detective Mitchell, I just nodded.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, and Adam cleared his throat. “So, Detective, what did you wish to speak with us about today? You said on the phone that you had some information.”
“I do,” Detective Mitchell said. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Ami Hensley has been extremely cooperative.”
Adam and I glanced at one another hopefully. The last thing either of us wanted was a long, drawn-out trial. Now that the mystery was solved, we were anxious to put it behind us. We were ready to move forward. If Ami was willing to confess to all she’d done, our hopes could be realized.
“What does that mean exactly?” I asked, waiting for clarification.
“It means Mrs. Hensley has confessed to everything.” Adam and I let out collective breaths. “The planning and attempted murder of Chelsea Hannigan, murdering Jimmy Kingston, assault and battery on you, Miss Fitch.” He nodded to me. “She confessed it all. There’s more too: kidnapping, obstruction of justice, destruction of evidence. Need I go on?”
Both Adam and I shook our heads, and Mitchell added, “Suffice it to say, Ami is going to be locked up for a very, very long time.”
“In jail?” I asked.
Detective Mitchell shifted in his seat. “Actually we’ve worked out a plea. In exchange for her confession, Ami will be sent to a facility for the criminally insane.”
“Willow Point?” I asked timidly.
The detective nodded, and I winced. Willow Point was not much better than prison. Maybe worse if certain stories were to be believed. But Ami would probably receive better treatment for her disorders there than in prison. Or at least I hoped that would be the case. I glanced at Adam to get a gauge on his thoughts, but his expression was unreadable.
Adam ran a hand over his face and quietly asked Detective Mitchell, “What made her decide to plead guilty?”
I wondered as much myself, especially since Ami had guarded her secrets so intently—not to mention very successfully—over the last several years.
“Her husband,” Mitchell replied, and then he turned his gaze to Adam. “Sean Hensley said convincing her to plead was his way of saying ‘thanks’ to you.”
Poor Sean Hensley, just another victim in all of this. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the torment he must feel at knowing the true depths of Ami’s instability. Perhaps he’d wanted to return Adam’s favor—helping him when he believed his wife to be missing—but I was sure Sean had his own personal reasons for wanting to avoid a very public trial. In any case I was grateful, and I found myself hoping he could someday pick up the pieces and eventually move on with his life. Sean deserved some kind of happiness after all that had happened.
Detective Mitchell then provided answers to many of the questions Ami’s confession had raised.
For example, unbeknownst to me, Jennifer had followed me on my very first visit to Billy’s. I hadn’t even thought to look for people trailing me that day. Jennifer was also the one who sent Ami to LA, to try to waylay my burgeoning investigation. She had suspected right from the very beginning that I would investigate the Harbour Falls Mystery. After all, my books were murder mysteries. And she worried that unaccounted-for evidence could begin to surface with someone like me digging around. She’d been right to worry.
Detective Mitchell also told us where Ami had holed up during her faked disappearance. There was a seedy roadside motel named Fowler’s that was located on the outskirts of Harbour Falls. It was the kind of place where no questions were asked, and patrons could retain complete anonymity. Jennifer had rented a room there and hid Ami away in the rundown establishment. Thus giving the woman who’d killed Jimmy time to lay low and subsequently appear to have gone missing. And to more easily implicate me, of course.
Detective Mitchell was getting ready to go, when I suddenly remembered that my dad had told me the police had taken a statement from J.T. O’Brien. Mostly to find out what he’d known of