I hastily signed the last page and stacked the contract pages into a neat pile. As I held them out, I asked, “Well, who owns Harbour Falls Realtors?” After signing a lease agreement that was going to cost me a pretty penny for the next three months, I wasn’t about to give up so easily.
“Maddy, I’m really not at liberty to say,” she said quietly as she reached to take the contract without meeting my gaze.
For as much as she could read me, I knew her tells pretty well too. “Ami, come on.” I pulled the contract back. “What are you not telling me?”
She glanced up, guilt etched across her face. I knew she was going to spill. “Can you promise me you can keep it a secret?”
I nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“Adam. Adam Ward owns Harbour Falls Realtors,” Ami said, meeting my widened eyes. “And,” she continued, “he owns just about everything on this island. In fact, Adam owns Fade Island. Like the entire island, Maddy.”
I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Wow!”
I was truly speechless. I knew the Wards were a wealthy family. What with their long-standing ties to the local private university. And, of course, Adam had accrued a great deal of wealth of his own over the past several years. Hell, he was not just a computer genius; he was a very successful entrepreneur. And that was an understatement if ever there was one.
I’d perused all the financial magazines, reading all about how Mr. Ward amassed his vast fortune by designing and implementing elaborate and sophisticated security software programs for both domestic and international organizations. Supposedly some of it was really high-intrigue stuff—rumors abounded that some of his work even involved secret government contracts.
I didn’t know about that—Lord knew there were enough rumors floating around about Adam—but I did know his fledgling company had just been gaining momentum back when he and Chelsea were planning to marry. After graduating at the top of his class at MIT, he’d moved back here to be close to his family. And presumably to Chelsea, since they’d gotten engaged in the spring before his senior year. Although talk back then indicated the relationship was strained.
After her disappearance the tales grew more sordid. Chelsea cheated on Adam while he was away at college, Chelsea dabbled in drugs, Chelsea led a secret life that she kept well hidden from her fiancé. One thing for certain, separating the truths from the fabrications wasn’t going to be easy.
A fact that was not in dispute was that Adam and Chelsea had been planning on building a home in Harbourtown. But after she went missing, Adam moved out to Fade Island, where he spent a great deal of time traveling for work but otherwise kept to himself.
Now it made sense. Adam owned the island. Why not move out here to get away from the ugly accusations flying around? Focus on work instead of a missing woman. And, according to the financial magazines, Adam had poured every ounce of energy into his company after his fiancée’s disappearance. In return his company grew exponentially, so much so that he was able to buy his own corporate jet and obtain a private pilot’s license in his spare time. I imagined that made all that traveling that much easier.
But in all my research, I’d found nothing disclosing Adam Ward’s apparently vast real estate holdings. Well, now I knew who was behind the limited liability company, who the person was who had wished to remain anonymous.
Ami appeared to be pleased she had shocked me into silence. “Impressive, right?” she said smugly. “Are you sure you’re still not interested?”
I refrained from answering her ridiculous question, because I didn’t want her to know the truth. Of course I was interested. But she didn’t need to know that.
I reminded her that we had to be at the dock soon to catch the ferry back to Cove Beach before dark. I was dreading having to deal with the ill-tempered Jennifer again, so as Ami and I approached the dock, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw there was a guy at the helm. Something struck me as familiar as I scanned over his neatly trimmed red hair and muscular build.
Leaning toward Ami, I whispered, “Is that…?”
Before I finished my question, the man turned, and I instantly recognized my one-time friend J.T. O’Brien. He reached out to help me onto the ferry, smiling, and I returned his infectious grin. “Well, if