There was something about the blonde mystery woman that was bothering me. There had been no reported rumors—like with Chelsea and J.T.—about Chelsea and this individual. Adam had known about J.T. and Chelsea for quite some time. And he had been made aware of the other random men, and the drugs. Had he known about the mystery blonde as well? Or had Chelsea kept that part of her life successfully hidden?
I knew I should have just asked Adam, but I was reluctant. What if that night at Billy’s had been a one-time event? Or what if Jimmy had lied about what he’d overheard Chelsea and the mystery blonde saying? Hell, he could have made the whole thing up. Besides, hadn’t Adam made it clear he didn’t really care to discuss the things I was uncovering in this investigation?
That seemed strange too. Unless he didn’t really anticipate I’d discover anything that hadn’t already been reported in those files. If that were the case, then it only served to make me want to dig deeper and solve this damn thing, once and for all.
Somewhere along the line this investigation had become much more than “research.” Now it was personal.
Early Monday morning my father called. Yes, as expected, he’d found out about what had happened with J.T. O’Brien. It took nearly twenty minutes to calm him down. The only good thing that came out of it was that he reluctantly agreed Adam had saved me from further harm. I guessed it made him feel better about me staying on the island, because he didn’t threaten to come over and drag me back home. Although, I half-expected that to still happen.
On Thursday I drove down to the dock. Dressed in some raggedy jeans and an old flannel shirt that I knew would make me fit right in at Billy’s, I was all set to pay Jimmy another visit. As I made my way to the waiting ferry, I inwardly groaned when I noticed Jennifer Weston was at the helm. I was in no mood to deal with her today.
“Oh yay,” I muttered to myself as I stepped aboard.
Jennifer appeared to be as excited to see me as I was to see her. “If it isn’t Madeleine Fitch.” Sarcasm dripped with every word as she purposely blocked my way. “Must be my lucky day,” she snapped.
Pushing past her, I took a seat. “Back to the mainland so soon?” she continued, starting up the ferry. “Running low on people to press charges against? Or is island life just too boring when your rich boyfriend isn’t around to beat the piss out of someone?”
OK, so it was clear Jennifer had taken issue with the J.T. incident. No surprise there. She obviously still had feelings for him. Ignoring her comments, I rummaged through my bag, searching for the book I’d brought along to pass the time.
Without warning the ferry lurched forward uncharacteristically, and Jennifer shot me a look of satisfaction, surely pleased at startling me. “J.T. was right about you, you know,” she said.
“Oh, this ought to be good,” I muttered, pulling out my book.
Jennifer snickered. “We had a bet on how long it was going to take for you to end up in Ward’s bed.”
I rolled my eyes. What was it with her and J.T.? I hadn’t even slept with Adam…yet. Well, I’d slept with him in the literal sense, but I was sure they meant more. Just the thought of it, when it did happen though, brought a secret smile to my lips.
“That’s what I thought,” Jennifer snarked, misinterpreting my smile. “Looks like I won. I said less than a month.”
“Whatever,” I huffed dismissively.
“It won’t last, you know,” Jennifer continued, undettered.
Oh, it was going to be a long ride to the mainland.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Adam.” I should have just ignored her, but I felt compelled to say something.
“Relationship?” she spat. “If it makes you feel better to call it that, then fine.”
I opened my book and began to read in an attempt to end the unpleasant conversation. But Jennifer would not shut up. “Do you want to know what I can’t figure out, Fitch?”
No, not really, I thought, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the book when, really, I’d not read a single word.
“You don’t seem at all like what Ward usually goes for. Odd,” she mused out loud, clearly baiting me as she feigned a lost-in-thought expression.
I put my book down. She sure had my attention now. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, returning her glare.
“Let’s just say, I know plenty more about Adam Ward than you do.”
“Sure you do.” I laughed and taunted, “You’re so well-informed.”
“I know this,” Jennifer hissed. “Ward is a powerful man who prefers beautiful women.” She eyed me up and down, like I didn’t make the cut.
When I rolled my eyes, she continued, “Not to mention” —Jennifer tapped her finger to her chin mockingly, pretending to be in deep thought— “he’s a man with a voracious appetite that I doubt you could keep up with. You seem a little too, I don’t know, bland maybe.” She winked knowingly, and my eyes widened.
How in the hell would Jennifer know something like that, unless… I narrowed my eyes at her, and she said pointedly, “Oh please, Fitch, drop the look of dismay. I never touched your precious Ward. I’m just saying I’ve heard things.”
Heard things? Like what, I wanted to ask? And from whom? Jennifer had certainly not been friends with Chelsea. Did she know Lindsey? No, I doubted it. But I didn’t know who all Adam had been with over the years and whose paths had crossed with Jennifer’s. I didn’t care to dwell on it either. But it just bothered me to no end. Who would have confided in Jennifer?
“I’m not particularly interested in whatever crap you’ve heard,” I said, trying desperately to sound unfazed and uninterested.
“Suit yourself,” she countered. “But did you ever consider you might
