Harbour Falls (30 page)

Lost in my lust-muddled thoughts, I tripped at the point where the pavement, and consequently the main road, ended abruptly. I glanced around. At last I’d reached the east side of the island. And it sure was desolate.

Before me, a nearly impassable access road—really just a widened trail—snaked deeper into the forest of ancient oak and thick pine. From my research I knew the access road meandered through the woods in a southerly direction, eventually coming out near the lighthouse area.

I took a few cautious steps, navigating the uneven terrain and the many muddy puddles. The access road was in worse shape than I’d anticipated, rutted and overgrown with wiry, coiled tangles of skeletal-looking branches. Towering pine trees grew in densely packed clusters on either side of the path, creating an overhead canopy that made the overcast day appear even darker. But I forged ahead, keeping safely to the middle. Dried leaves, clinging lifelessly to the trees, rustled all around me. I heard the scurrying of animals and the occasional bird chirp, but the forest was much too thick to actually catch sight of any of the island fauna.

After traveling what I estimated to be about two miles, the woods quieted. No more rustling leaves, no scurrying animals, no more chirping birds. It was actually kind of creepy, and I started to wish I’d stopped, after all, to let Max know where I was heading. Breathing in deeply, the smell of rotting leaves particularly pungent now, I fished out my cell phone to reassure myself Max was only a phone call away. But a sick feeling of dread passed through me when I saw I had no signal over here on this side of the island.
Stupid for not checking first
, I thought. I knew if I continued, I’d eventually reach the cliffs above the lighthouse. Recalling how Adam had told me there were hidden caves in the wall of cliffs, I shuddered.
Uh, definitely not going down there all alone
.

Although there was plenty of daylight left, I’d had enough. It was too quiet and devoid of life here. And I had no cell service. Worse yet I was starting to get a bad feeling. I stopped, took a swig of water to calm my nerves, and turned around.

I began to walk quickly but halted when I heard a weird
clang
noise, like metal hitting metal.
What is that?
Somewhere off to my right, coming from behind a cluster of particularly dense pine, it sounded again.
Clang!
And then a few seconds later,
Thunk! Thunk!
This time it sounded like something metal pounding at the ground. What the…?

Besides Max, Nate was the only other person who was supposed to be on the island today. Helena was still in Boston. But why would Max or Nate be over here in the deep woods on this side of the island?

Against my better judgment, I crept to the edge of the rutted road and crouched down at the treeline, the cool smell of pine filling my nose, in the hope of catching a glimpse of the source behind the steady, rhythmic noises that had yet to abate.

What I saw made my hand fly to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Oh God!
Several yards away, there was a man—in muddied jeans and a dark hoodie— and he appeared to be burying something. He was just about finished with his task, patting down the dirt neatly to obscure the digging he had done. Clutching my water bottle tightly, my hands grew sweaty, because I recognized this person. Though his face was mostly obscured, I knew, without a doubt, that the man patting down the dirt was J.T. O’Brien. And, hell, if I didn’t need to get out of here—fast.

I looked furtively left and right. Of course, nobody else was around.
Oh God, this isn’t good.
Here I was, stuck deep in the woods with my former friend, but more recently my assailant. Thankfully, J.T. appeared to be deeply engrossed in what he was doing, which, at this point, was kicking fallen leaves over the now barely noticeable mound of dirt.

“Get out of here!”
my mind screamed.

Quickly I stood—my limbs trembling—and backed away cautiously. My heart was taking up residence in my throat as memories of J.T.’s assault at the café flashed through my mind. Only this time there would be no Adam to save me. I turned and crept away silently, rapidly putting as much distance as possible between J.T. and me.

When I was certain I was out of his hearing range, I broke into a run. I needed to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible, but I still ventured a glance over my shoulder, my pace barely slowing. Relief washed over me once I confirmed I was not being followed. No J.T. in pursuit as I’d feared.

After what felt like forever, the forest a blur, I reached the entry to the access road, breathless and with my heart pounding. Gasping for air I slowed to a walk as my feet hit the paved surface of the main road. Safe, at last.

With fear taking a backseat, my thoughts turned to what I’d seen. What was J.T. O’Brien
doing
back there?
Bizarre
. Why would he be burying something out here on Fade Island? Whatever it was, I’d been fortunate he’d not caught sight of me. One thing for sure, J.T. O’Brien had certainly been engaged in some crazy behavior since his short stint in rehab. Showing up at Billy’s for the first time in ages, buying drugs, and getting so messed up he threatened Jimmy for shutting him off, and now, digging around out here on the island. Yes, J.T. was up to something. I hoped to God he hadn’t caught wind of my investigation. Suspecting I was poking around would be bad enough, but if J.T. actually knew specifics—like my visits to Billy’s—then that could spell big trouble for me. Especially if he was trying to hide something, and I was getting too close.

When I finally reached the cottage, I was a sweaty mess. I went in, showered, and changed clothes. Adam would be arriving soon, and I had to decide if I was going to share this new development with him. But there really was no choice; he had to be told that J.T. had been on the island burying something. But Adam would surely be upset with me. Not only had I not cooled it with the case, I’d put myself in danger, once again.

Later that evening, as I plated the eggplant Parmesan I’d reheated, the doorbell sounded. Wiping my hands on the apron I’d thrown on over my jeans and sweater, I hurried to the door and let Adam in.

He greeted me with a kiss that started out soft but soon deepened. Leaving me somewhat breathless, he pulled away way too soon for my liking. “Miss me?” Adam asked, his tone soft.

“More than you could imagine,” I replied.

His brow furrowed. “Is everything OK?”

I waved a hand dismissively. “We can talk while we eat,” I said. “Dinner’s on the table, and it will get cold.”

I was biding my time, waiting for an opportune time to bring up the day’s events. Now didn’t feel right.

We sat down to eat, and Adam talked of his business in Boston. He wasn’t pressing me to elaborate on my earlier comment, but he seemed to notice I was preoccupied.

Cutting into a piece of eggplant, he asked, “Maddy, are you with me here? You look like you haven’t heard a single word I’ve said.”

I looked up from my own plate, meeting his questioning gaze. “Um, not really.” I admitted. “It’s just that…”

Adam put down his fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Did something happen while I was away?”

I lifted a glass of water to my lips and took a long drink. Putting the glass down, I nodded. “Yeah, something did happen. When I was hiking down the access road over on the other side of the island, I saw some—”

“Jesus Christ,” Adam interrupted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “What were you doing over there? You know it’s not safe to be traipsing around on that side of the island. Hell, it’s almost impossible to even get cell service over there.”

“Adam,” I said, huffing in indignation, even though everything he said was true. “Please.”

I rolled my eyes at him, and he replied sharply, “You couldn’t find anything else to occupy your time?”

“What like cooking?” I pushed my plate away, my appetite lost.

“What about
writing
, Madeleine?” Adam’s voice was harsh, cold. “That is what you’re here to do. Remember?”

Yeah, I remember
, I thought, but I didn’t share with Adam all the second thoughts I’d had recently. Instead I said, “Look, I know you want me to take some kind of a break from the case, but I’m not going to sit around here locked up in this cottage all day like some kind of prisoner.”

“You’re hardly a prisoner,” Adam’s voice softened. “It’s just that anything could happen to you in those woods. If you fell or got hurt, we’d have a hell of a time even locating you.” Pausing, he added, “Did you at least tell Max where you were going?”

Uh-oh.
He’d just settled down, and now he was going to be pissed all over again. And I hadn’t even gotten to the J.T. part yet.

I shook my head, staring at my plate of unfinished food. “Um, no, I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

Adam was silent, so I glanced up. His eyes held, not anger as I expected, but disappointment and sadness. I suddenly felt genuinely bad for being so foolhardy. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

Adam reached over and covered my hand with his. “Don’t apologize, OK? I just worry when I’m not around to protect you. Next time,”—I was sure those words were killing him, because he knew there’d always be a next time with me—“just please tell Max.”

I took a deep, steadying breath. “I will, Adam, but, uh, there’s more.” He looked weary, so I added, “Promise me you won’t get angry when I tell you what else happened.”

“Just spit it out, Maddy.”

“Ok, uh,” I sputtered, “J.T. O’Brien was there today, in the woods on the other side of the island.” I cringed, dreading Adam’s reaction.

But instead of an angry outburst, he took a small drink of water and leaned back in his chair. “Do you really have so little regard for your own welfare?” He shook his head. In disappointment, I imagined.

“I never expected to see
him
out there,” I said in my defense. “Besides, he didn’t notice me. He was…preoccupied.”

“With what?”

“Digging, maybe burying something. He was covering the area with leaves, covering something up.” I raised an eyebrow of my own for emphasis. “That’s what I’ve wanted to tell you this whole time. I’m sure whatever J.T. was doing, he was up to no good.” I paused. “And I think we should find out what—”

“We, Madeleine?”

“Well, maybe not we,” I acquiesced. “But someone should check it out.”

“You’re right. O’Brien has no right trespassing over there. He’s well aware that side of the island is completely off-limits,” Adam said, clearly aggravated. “I’ll have Max take a look around. Do you think you could pinpoint the location for him?”

“I don’t know, maybe. If we head down there before it rains I could probably find the mound.”

The look Adam gave me told me I’d misunderstood. “I meant pointing out where you were on a map,” he said quietly.

With that, I nodded. But I knew I’d never be able to pinpoint the exact location on a map. I’d been so scared, I’d be lucky if I could find the right spot even if I did go with Max—though it sure would be more likely.

But I’d try it Adam’s way…for now.

The next morning I gave Max the best directions I could, trying to remember the exact lay of the land in the area where I’d seen J.T. The map was really no help at all. I could estimate, but I wasn’t sure how far down I’d traveled. I ventured a guess that I’d been about halfway to the lighthouse. When I mentioned that tidbit, Adam and Max exchanged an odd glance. Then Max folded up the map and took off in his Hummer.

When Max returned later that day and told us he’d been unable to locate any signs of the ground having been disturbed where he’d searched—no mound of dirt, no disturbed leaves—it came as no surprise to me. I insisted I’d have to go with Max if there was any hope at all of pinpointing the exact spot J.T. had been. But Adam quickly vetoed that plan. Instead he came up with an alternate plan to be employed the following day. The three of us—Adam, Max, and I—would go back and investigate the area as a group.

Unfortunately the weather had other ideas. Heavy rains moved into the area that night, making the likelihood of our getting back down the rugged access road—even in Max’s all-wheel drive vehicle—slim to none. So we delayed the plan for the following week. It was necessary anyway, because Adam was leaving for Boston the next morning for
another
three-day business trip. He was so close to closing the deal that I couldn’t help but be excited for him. Even though I’d be lonely until he returned on Sunday, which just happened to be Halloween. At least I’d have one treat to look forward to, Adam’s return.

So things were on hold.

I knew in my heart J.T. had been up to nothing good in those woods, and I suspected Adam felt the same way. Why was J.T. digging around in the most remote part of an already remote island? He was obviously burying something he intended to keep secret. Or maybe—and this one made my blood run cold—he’d been digging up and
re
burying something.

Yes, maybe J.T. O’Brien was reburying a long-hidden secret, because he feared somebody was close to discovering the truth. And that somebody was me. So if J.T. knew what I was doing, and I was getting close to uncovering secrets meant to stay hidden (or buried), then what exactly did that mean for me?

The question was: Did I really want to find out?