“You have the resources, man,” Sean pleaded, his eyes focused solely on Adam. “Please help me. Look, I know she has, um, issues” —his voice cracked— “but I love my wife. Please, I have no where else to turn.”
“You can file a report with the police,” Max gently suggested, while Adam appeared to be assessing the situation with a cool head.
Tears welled in Sean’s eyes, and my heart went out to him. He clearly loved Ami.
“I tried the police,” he said, turning to Max. “They said I have to wait forty-eight hours. I can’t wait. What if, what it…” A tear trailed down his cheek, and in a choked sob, he turned back to Adam and said, “Please, Ward. I know you can do something.”
Sean’s heartfelt pleas must have touched Adam. Or maybe his own feelings for Ami got the best of him. In any case he agreed to help. He promised Sean he’d pull a few strings to get things rolling on the search for Ami. But Adam was adamant that he wished to remain anonymous for obvious reasons. The last thing he needed was to be publicly attached to yet another missing person.
So later that night on the local news—following a report on the search for more clues in the Jimmy Kingston murder that left me cringing—the missing person’s report Adam had pulled several strings to have aired as soon as possible was broadcast. Ami Dubois-Hensley’s pretty face flashed on the screen, along with her vital stats. Female, late 20s, blonde hair, blue eyes, five foot two…
I watched the report from Adam’s bedroom, sitting at the foot of his massive bed. Adam was still downstairs doing who knew what. Surely Max and Sean had left hours ago. I hadn’t been in Adam’s bedroom since the night we’d spent together in this room, sleeping. I didn’t even know if I should be here now, but my bags were by the closet, and he had been the one to bring them up, so I supposed this was where I should be.
The report ended, and I flipped the television off. It was getting late, and I had no clue if Adam was planning on sleeping in here or not. With everything going on, it felt like our relationship had stalled. And I didn’t know how to get it back on track. We’d not even been fully intimate yet, even though we’d declared our love.
Adam had been so aggressive before, and I really liked that version of him. I wanted him to be that way again, but ever since my meltdown following the night Julian had stayed, it felt as if Adam was holding back. Did he think I was too fragile? That I wanted space? He couldn’t have been more wrong. Because with everything going on, the one thing I craved was to feel even closer to him.
Feeling defeated, I didn’t even bother to change into my pajamas. Instead I tugged at the comforter beneath me, cocooning it around me as I scooted back to lie among the sea of pillows. That was me, adrift in Adam’s bed. How had things gotten so crazy? Jimmy murdered in cold blood; Ami vanishing without a trace. And I was linked to both.
It was only a matter of time before the police would seek me out to discuss Ami’s sudden disappearance. I mean, come on, who had she been on her way to visit? Only the prime suspect in the murder of a local bartender. Not a good position to find oneself in.
I buried my face in a pillow, suppressing a scream of frustration. Choking back a sob, my thoughts turned to the interrogation I’d undergone in Harbourtown. Detective Mitchell didn’t seem as if he really believed I was capable of murdering Jimmy. But he surely suspected—correctly—that I was withholding information. On the other hand, Detective Crowley was all set to send me up the river. I imagined him, at this very moment, working overtime to build a case against me. Maybe he liked and respected my dad, but he sure as hell didn’t care for me.
I knew the thing my father had said about being honest with the detectives was sound advice, but I was resistant to confessing all I was hiding. Sure I could come clean and tell the detectives everything I’d discovered, thus far, in my own private investigation of Chelsea Hannigan’s disappearance. But that would mean I’d have to give up my search for the truth. I’d never find out who was in that photograph. The one Jimmy had ended up dying for. And Adam’s name might never be cleared. This case had been in the hands of two local police departments for years, and it still hadn’t been solved. So no, I wasn’t going to tell the police all I knew. Not quite yet. Not until I had the answer I was so close to discovering.
And as I drifted off to sleep, I prayed that in the meantime no one else would turn up missing…or dead.
The next morning, I woke up fully clothed, still wrapped in my comforter cocoon. From the impression in the pillow next to mine, it was apparent Adam had slept in here with me. I mentally kicked myself for sleeping so soundly. No wonder our physical relationship was stalled. I was just as much to blame—missed opportunities and all that.
Reluctantly emerging from my cocoon, I reached up to the side of the headboard and pushed one of several buttons. The heavy curtains covering the large windows began to pull back, revealing a mass of storm clouds darkening the horizon. The big storm that had been forecasted was on its way, the island blanketed in near darkness.
I snatched up the remote control and turned on the television. The same local news channel was on, and new reports were being broadcast. Ami’s white SUV flashed up on the screen. I turned up the volume. Her abandoned vehicle
