had the most compelling reasons to want Chelsea out of the picture. I could just imagine her holding that illegal stock trade, and the threat of going to the SEC with what she knew, over him like a dagger ready to plunge at any second. I couldn’t fathom what that must have felt like for Adam to have only two options: One, obey Chelsea’s every whim, including staying with—and marrying—her. Or, two, leave her, thus giving her the opening to make good on her threat to go to the authorities with incriminating testimony against him. Then he could have lost everything and, if convicted, gone to prison. Yeah, great options, I thought bitterly.
Despite such a strong motive for murder, I just didn’t feel in my heart that Adam had done anything to Chelsea. Maybe I was blinded by love, but that was what I believed.
Besides, the list of suspects didn’t begin and end with Adam. Not by a long shot.
Chelsea had led a wild and dangerous life, making numerous enemies along the way. Even Adam’s own sister despised the woman. I still wondered what had motivated Trina to send those threatening letters. Had she really been trying to frighten Chelsea into backing out of marrying Adam? And why had Adam intercepted them? Despite what he’d said, maybe he actually believed Trina had taken matters into her own hands and followed through with those threats. In that case he surely wouldn’t have wanted those letters floating around, implicating his own sister.
Then there was J.T. Had Chelsea met up with him that fateful night? Was that what she wanted Adam to tell her not to do? And since he’d not dissuaded her, what if she had met J.T. and something had gone wrong? J.T. O’Brien was volatile and unpredictable. I’d been on the receiving end of his temper, and it made me shudder to recall the rage alight in his eyes that night at the café. And just days ago, he’d threatened Jimmy. It seemed J.T. was a walking time bomb, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. Yeah, when it came to Chelsea’s disappearance, a crime of passion could not be ruled out.
And, of course, there was also Jennifer Weston—another suspect. She certainly had her own demons and anger issues. That fact had been made clear throughout almost all of my limited interactions with her, particularly on the most recent ferry ride I’d shared with her. Apart from her veiled threats, it made me wary to know she was aware of private things pertaining to Adam.
Someone had told her, and based on her angry reaction that day on the ferry, I was fairly sure it had not been Chelsea. But someone had hinted at Adam’s sexual prowess in the bedroom. Who would know something like that? Someone who’d been with him sexually…or someone who’d known someone who had been intimate with Adam?
Jennifer had known about my high school crush on Adam, and there was only one person I’d ever divulged that information to: Ami Dubois-Hensley. Maybe she was the source of Jennifer’s information. But did that mean…God, no! My stomach churned at the thought of Ami ever having been with Adam. Though she certainly fit the bill of what his “type” had been prior to meeting me. Ami was beautiful, and she had long, blonde hair.
Hmmm, maybe he had slept with her. But Ami had all those mental issues, and I just couldn’t see Adam exploiting them by seducing her. Not to mention she was married. And she was his employee, which brought up a whole host of other potential problems. After evading an insider trading charge, surely a sexual harassment suit was the last thing Adam would have wanted.
No, if Ami had been the one to tell Jennifer those things, then she had heard them from someone else. I felt certain of this, but I wondered who would have shared that kind of information with Ami Hensley.
And how bizarre was it that she’d gone out to LA to contact my agent…and Julian? Telling them I was in danger here on the island. From what? From whom? Was Ami really trying to protect me? How much did she know? Did she have knowledge of what had happened to Chelsea Hannigan?
Good Lord! This whole thing was so confusing that a part of me wished something would surface to prove Chelsea had been the victim of some random stranger passing through town. But no, that wasn’t going to happen. There were too many