river docks in Harbourtown. The time stamp read 22:32. So she’d been there shortly after ten thirty. Only one photo had been lifted from the surveillance footage, as there was only one camera at Billy’s, and it recorded only the comings and goings of patrons as they passed through the entrance to the bar.
I studied this shot, and though in black and white, Chelsea’s flowery sundress and sky-high heels were clearly out of place with the hard atmosphere of the bar. Why was she there?
Detectives interviewed the bartender at the time, a man known simply as Old Carl. He hadn’t coughed up much information to the police, but he did confirm Chelsea had been a regular at the bar. He recalled that on that hot July night, Chelsea had consumed a couple of wine coolers and then asked Old Carl a rather odd question.
She wanted to know why he’d never gotten married. When he replied that he’d just “never met the right one,” Chelsea laughed and said something to the effect of “Neither have I, Old Carl, neither have I.” Even the bartender had to admit it was a bizarre response, especially since he knew Chelsea was getting married the very next day. But who knew why people sometimes said the things they said. Chelsea left the bar at 23:30, less than an hour following her arrival there.
A number of Billy’s regulars were also questioned. Nothing could be substantiated, but a scandalous picture of Chelsea began to emerge. Most of the men had “no comment” when asked, but a few of the women patrons talked.
Several claimed to have walked in on Chelsea—more than once—while she was snorting lines of cocaine from a small mirror she’d placed on the bathroom counter. A few of the women claimed they’d sometimes seen her in there doing those drugs with a good-looking, muscular guy. But they had no idea who he was. Descriptions were sketchy, but every single one said he had short-cropped red hair and brown eyes.
Oh my God, J.T.?
He’d once had a drug problem. But what would J.T. be doing at a place like Billy’s with Chelsea Hannigan? I couldn’t remember the two of them ever even acknowledging one another. There was no way this man could have been J.T., right?
Paging hastily through the files, I searched for, but could not find, any mention of J.T. O’Brien. He’d never been questioned, never been considered. And, really, why would the police suspect him? He had no known connection to Chelsea. But for some reason, I couldn’t shake my first impression that the muscular man with the red hair was, in fact, J.T. O’Brien.
There was one way I could find out who the man had been: go to Billy’s. If this Old Carl was still bartending—and I hoped to God he was—then I’d ask if he’d ever seen J.T. with Chelsea. Chelsea had been a regular, so he’d surely recall her. And I had plenty of old photos of J.T. from back when we were in high school.
Anxious to get started on really investigating this thing, I considered heading over to the mainland today. But it was a Saturday, and the bar would probably be too busy by the time I got there. I decided to try Monday instead, late morning or early afternoon. A time when the bar would be open but most likely not busy.
Since I’d reached the end of the Harbourtown section, I took a quick break. More energy bars and bottled water. Ugh, I couldn’t wait to get some real food in the place.
I gathered up the metallic wrappers, crinkled them in my fist, and tossed them in the trash. And then I hunkered down and started on the Harbour Falls part of the case files…
Shortly after midnight Chelsea was observed in surveillance footage taken from a bank on the edge of town. She used a pay phone that had once stood in front of the establishment. She was in the phone booth for less than a minute, and then she was seen pacing around the parking lot in her high-heels, looking agitated. A few still shots from the surveillance footage were attached to the file. I flipped through the photos and surmised she’d definitely been mad about something. Perhaps it had to do with the phone call?
So whom had she been calling?
I scanned the next several pages, but shockingly, no one had ever thought to get the call records from the pay phone company. Even though those records were