To keep Ami talking, I asked as gently as I could, “Ami, what happened?”
The Ami I once knew, the girl I’d shared secrets with, that girl met my eyes. If I could reach her, maybe, just maybe, I’d get out of this unscathed. It took everything I had to muster an encouraging smile, but it worked.
Ami began to tell me everything.
She told me how she and Chelsea became friends, even before Adam purchased Fade Island and hired Ami to run Harbour Falls Realtors. She was thrilled that the beautiful Chelsea Hannigan had chosen her as a friend. But Chelsea had other plans. She became intent on seducing Ami. She complained to Ami that Adam had quit sleeping with her years earlier. Ami asked her why she stayed with him, but Chelsea said she’d never let him go. Never. And even though Chelsea claimed to hate Fade Island, many of her trysts with Ami occurred at the lighthouse. When Ami realized Chelsea was using her, she felt shameful that she’d cheated on her husband. And Ami had done so with someone who seemed to just want to get back at Adam for not wanting her anymore.
Shortly before the wedding, Chelsea sought to sever all ties with Ami. She confirmed that their fling had meant nothing to her. It had all been playful experimentation, she’d said. And now that she was getting married, it was time for it to stop. Ami felt slighted; for it seemed Chelsea’s words suggested that Ami having been married the whole time meant nothing.
“Chelsea didn’t care about things like marriage and fidelity,” Ami snorted, echoing Jimmy’s words—her victim—without even knowing it. “She just didn’t want me. She thought she could discard me; move on to the next one.”
I wondered if Ami knew Chelsea had been carrying on a fling with J.T. O’Brien as well. Maybe she’d known, and it hadn’t mattered to her. Unfortunately I didn’t have the luxury of figuring it all out, not with the gun still pointed at me. No, I knew time was wasting. So I stood perfectly still, glancing at the gun. Had she lowered it slightly?
“Ami,” I soothed, “I’m sure Chelsea cared about you in her own way.”
Ami’s pale eyes hardened to an icy blue. “No, she didn’t,” she countered. “I called her the day of the wedding rehearsal. She had a disposable cell phone she used for our…meetings” —that explained why Ami’s number never showed up in Chelsea’s phone records— “or sometimes we’d use pay phones. Anyway I asked her not to end it. I asked her to keep seeing me. She laughed at me. She told me she was destroying the cell phone and not to contact her once she was married. Maddy, I begged, but she just laughed.”
The emotion in Ami’s face was an odd mix of heartbreak and fury. “Ami,” I said softly.
But she laughed, the heartbroken moment quickly fading. “Don’t pity me, Maddy,” she hissed. “After she was done laughing, she threatened to tell Sean everything if I didn’t back off. I couldn’t take that chance, the chance of ending up with nothing. I asked her to meet me one last time that night. I told her to come down to the lighthouse. I knew she’d show up. And I knew what I had to do when she did.”
A sick feeling washed over me anew. “Oh God, Ami, what did you do?” I whispered.
“She came to the lighthouse. It was late, really late. She said she had stopped in Harbour Falls to tell Sean about us but chickened out at the last minute.”
That was why Chelsea had been at the bank; Sean and Ami’s house was in that neighborhood. It was all falling into place.
Ami continued, “She told me she almost went back to the hotel. She called Adam, but I guess he didn’t say what she wanted to hear.” Ami swiped at her face, wiping a tear that had fallen. “So she came here to the lighthouse and sealed her fate that night.”
I remained silent, fearful. Ami put both hands on the gun once more and aimed it at me. Good God, what had she done to Chelsea? And in this same place.
“I had to get rid of her, permanently,” Ami said. It was like she’d read my mind. Her eyes, now disturbingly lifeless, met mine. With a calm voice, she added, “Just like I have to get rid of you, permanently.”
Chelsea was dead. And this was it for me. I had to make my move—no matter how dangerous—now or never.
I held my breath and swung, hitting Ami’s shoulder. My movement was swift enough to knock the .38 out of her hands. It fell to the floor, skidding across the concrete floor of the lighthouse, out of both our reaches. I tried to make a play for it, but Ami grabbed my hair and yanked me back to her. I elbowed her in the stomach as hard as I could, and she loosened her grasp with a uuumph noise.
I hastily judged the distance to the door. The gun was right there—in front of the door. Thoughts raced through my mind: I needed to get to the door. I needed to get to the gun. I needed to get out!
But before I made my move, Ami came at me like a madwoman. I shoved her back with every ounce of strength I could muster, and she flew backwards. A loud cracking noise rang out, and I saw Ami’s head hit the metal railing that ran along the winding staircase. The candles shook and flickered madly, but thankfully, none toppled over. Ami, though, crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold.
I turned to make my
