“Was that it?” I asked, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
Jimmy shook his head, a lecherous smile turning up his lips. “No, there’s more. I remember this one time…”
I stood, waiting. Hell, I’d paid a hundred bucks for information; I wasn’t going anywhere until he finished. Jimmy shuffled around behind the bar, acting strangely excited. “And?” I said impatiently.
“Yeah, so like I said, Chelsea was wild.” He paused, all the while looking like maybe he was replaying in his head whatever tawdry tale he was about to tell. “So this time I’m talkin’ about, she was here with that hot girl…the blonde…and they’re both really drunk. Hangin’ all over each other.” Jimmy snickered. “Shit like that, you know what I mean?”
He looked at me, waiting, so I decided to humor him. “Sure.”
“So it’s late…like closing time late. Only people left are me, Old Carl, Chelsea, and her friend.” Jimmy leaned on the bar, continuing in a low voice, “So Old Carl pulls out one of them Polaroid cameras from behind the bar. He tells Chelsea he’ll let her bar tab slide for the rest of the week if she makes out with her friend. Oh, and lets him take some pictures, of course.”
“Of course,” I said dryly.
“Hell, she wasn’t offended or nothin’,” Jimmy said, snorting. “But it sure as hell wasn’t like she needed a pass on her bar tab. Everyone knew she had money. No, her ass was all over that shit just for kicks. Full on tongue action too, man. And Old Carl got his pictures. A bunch of ’em too.”
I perked up. Who was this mystery blonde? Nothing like this had been mentioned in the case files. Maybe it would turn out to be nothing, maybe she was just another wild girl who happened to meet up with Chelsea that night. But no, according to Jimmy, they’d been in here more than just that one time. She had to have been someone Chelsea knew. And that made me wonder why the police had never found her, never questioned her. What if she held some kind of key to the case? How much more had she known about Chelsea’s secret life? Without a doubt, I needed to find out the identity of the girl.
“Do you know what he did with those pictures?” I asked Jimmy.
“Don’t know what that old perv did with his, but he did give me one.”
It was looking like my hundred bucks was about to pay off after all. “You still have it?”
“Yeah, somewhere, I think. I’ll have to look for it, but I could call you if I find it.”
“That’ll work,” I said, writing my cell number on the back of a coaster.
Jimmy picked up the coaster, but as I got up to leave, he stopped me. “Oh wait. I remember one more thing about that night. It was somethin’ I overheard Chelsea sayin’ to her buddy.”
“What was that?”
“Right as Chelsea leans in to lay one on her friend, the girl starts pulling away…suddenly acting all uptight and shit.” Jimmy took out another cigarette. “Then I hear Chelsea whisper something to her, like ‘just go with it, nobody knows who you are here,’ and ‘it’s not like we haven’t done this before.’”
I blinked a couple of times, stunned, and stared blankly at Jimmy.
“That’s it,” he said, lighting his cigarette.
“Uh, OK, thanks,” I said hastily.
I practically ran for the exit. I needed some air, and I needed it fast. Chelsea had obviously been way more out of control than I’d ever dreamed. Poor Adam. She’d been messing around with J.T. for a long time, their presence at Billy’s confirming it. So that moved J.T., and probably Jennifer if she’d known, further up my suspect list.
But had Chelsea also been cheating on Adam with a woman? It was more important than ever to find out the identity of the blonde. I hoped Jimmy would truly search for the picture. Maybe he’d put some extra effort into it, thinking he’d make another quick hundred.
How could Adam not have known about Chelsea’s many extracurricular activities? Surely he had to have heard the rumors. Why on earth had he still been planning on marrying such an unfaithful bitch? There was really only one explanation: Chelsea must have had something on him. And what she had on Adam must have been huge. Like, life-ruining huge. But what could it have been? The police had turned up nothing unsavory in Adam’s past. But Chelsea obviously knew something more than they did.
But the question that haunted me the entire drive back to Cove Beach was this: Was this secret devastating enough for Adam to want to make Chelsea disappear?
Chapter 7
The following day, after my dad called to tell me he was making some progress in tracking down those pay phone records, I stopped by the café to visit Helena. Seated at a table near the front, staring out the picture window to her left, Helena was absently tapping her perfectly manicured fingernails on the side of a porcelain coffee cup.
“Helena?” I queried softly, reticent to intrude on what appeared to be an introspective moment.
She started at the sound of my voice, her hand fluttering to her chest. “Oh, Maddy, you startled me.” She laughed a little. “I’m sorry, I was just daydreaming.”
“I can always come back later,” I offered.
“Don’t be silly. Have a seat.” Helena stood, smoothed out the long, white cardigan sweater over her black leggings, and began walking back to the coffee bar, black heels tapping out a staccato rhythm. “What can I get you? Cappuccino?” she called back over her shoulder.
I shimmied out of my trench coat and replied, “Just regular coffee’s fine,” before taking a seat.
Helena returned with the coffee. “I’m glad you stopped by,” she began as she sat down across from me. “Nate left Sunday evening with Adam on a business trip, and it’s been entirely
