But what had happened to Ami? The report made no mention of her stopping in the store to buy anything. So why had she been there? That store wasn’t far from the dock, so had she walked to the ferry? Had she still been planning on taking the ferry and meeting up with me? If J.T. were to be believed, he hadn’t seen her. Or, had he?
The news update ended, and I flipped the television off. One thing that had changed overnight—despite it still being less than forty-eight hours since Ami’s disappearance—was that the police were now involved. The missing person’s report on last night’s news had ensured it. Sean had Adam to thank for that.
After showering and dressing, I went downstairs. Adam was sitting at the breakfast table, drinking a cup of coffee, and pecking away on a laptop. He wore jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, so I assumed he was working from home today. I spent an extra minute admiring how good he looked, his hair still wet from his shower and blacker than ever, but then I grabbed some coffee for myself and sat down across from him at the long breakfast bar.
“Have you seen the news reports?” I asked.
Adam looked up from whatever he was working on. “Yeah, I have.”
Knowing that Adam had inside sources—such as Max—I asked him if the police knew more than what was being reported. He said no, they knew nothing more. And then, seeing the troubled look on my face, he tried to comfort me by telling me he truly believed Ami would surely turn up soon—alive and well.
In that moment I realized just how much Ami’s mental diagnosis tended to color Adam’s opinion of her. He saw her as a victim. But not of foul play. No, Adam seemed to view Ami as a victim of her own mind. I heard the pity in his tone and suddenly knew why he’d kept her on as his employee for so many years. Sure she was competent enough to perform her job duties, but it was more than that. Adam felt sorry for her. Maybe even to the point of obligation. Ami probably sensed that. I supposed that was why she had so fervently defended Adam the first day I’d traveled with her over to the island. I just hoped she wasn’t in some way taking advantage of Adam’s kindness toward her.
Adam closed his laptop and said something about needing to go make some calls. I wanted to say something to let him know I was ready to move forward with him. I needed him, wanted him, craved him, and I was through with being coddled. So I sat my coffee cup down and said, “You should have woken me last night.” I tried to catch his gaze but couldn’t. “When you came to bed,” I added, stressing the last word.
He eyed me tentatively. “You needed the sleep.”
“Don’t baby me, Adam,” I replied tersely, rising to dump the rest of my coffee into the sink.
He moved toward me, his voice softening. “Maddy.”
“Just…” I waved him away, and he released a held breath.
A moment passed, neither of us moving. And then he retreated, departing, I assumed, for the study to make his calls.
Well, that had gone well. Not.
Too restless to concentrate on much of anything, I meandered around the house—making the bed, fluffing the pillows, wandering the long halls. At last I found myself at the closed door to the study. I wanted to talk to Adam, fix things from earlier, so I raised my hand to knock.
But before I had the chance, Adam opened the door. “Maddy,” he said, “I was just coming to look for you.”
From the look on Adam’s face, I knew something was up. When I asked him that very question, he didn’t respond directly. Instead he moved aside and asked me to come in. A loud thunderclap reverberated—making me jump—as I stepped across the threshold.
As he sat back down behind his desk, Adam appeared to be less than amused when I laughed at my own skittishness. “Madeleine, why is your cell phone turned off?” he snapped, while leaning back in his chair.
“It’s charging,” I responded, taking a few steps closer to the desk. “Why?”
“Hoffman has been trying to reach you all morning.”
A sick feeling came over me, and I shifted from one foot to the other. “Why? What’s going on?”
Adam closed his eyes and was silent for a minute. Oh, this is going to be bad.
When he opened his eyes, he said quietly, “The police want to talk to you.” He hesitated. “It’s about Ami’s disappearance.”
“What?” I murmured as I sank into the leather chair across from him. “They don’t think…?” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Adam raked his fingers through his hair. “Besides Sean, you were the last person to speak with Ami. And the authorities know she was on her way to see you.”
“Adam, this can’t be happening.” I covered my face with my hands.
Before I knew it, Adam was kneeling in front of me. I felt a tug at my hands and intertwined them with his. “Shhh,” he soothed, warming my hands in his own. “It’s just another formality, nothing to worry about. Hoffman will be here with the detective—”
“They’re coming here?” I interrupted, just as another low rumble of thunder rolled ominously overhead.
“Yes, but it’ll just be Detective Mitchell.” Adam eyed me carefully, probably to make sure I fully comprehended that the nicer of the two detectives—Mitchell, not Crowley—would be the one questioning me. I nodded, and he continued, “And remember, Hoffman will be here as well.”
Adam hesitated, and
