“OK,” he said at last. “I only came out to tell you Helena’s back. She saw you sitting out here in your car and wondered if you might want to come back in for a coffee.”
So Helena was around after all. Where had she been? At the bungalow? Had she walked right by me? I was parked directly in front of the café, but I’d been so preoccupied I wouldn’t have noticed. Oh God, had she seen me staring at the envelope from Jimmy? She could have been watching the whole time.
Damn, I needed to see who was in that picture, and I obviously wasn’t going to be able to do that in front of the café. Not now.
“Um, maybe I’ll stop back later,” I replied. “But I really do need to get back.”
Nate mumbled an “OK then,” and when he stepped away from the car, I got the hell out of there. Needless to say, I made it back to Adam’s place in no time. When I stopped in front of the house, I put the car in park and breathed a sigh of relief. Safe at last.
But then I noticed something attached to the front door, a slip of paper fluttering in the breeze. For a moment I watched the lazy movement of the paper, and then, leaving the car idling, I went to check it out.
A thick piece of parchment paper had been taped to the door, a single sentence visible on the front. I peeled the paper from the wood surface. Nine words were written in Adam’s neat, concise scrawl.
Home early, meet me down at the lighthouse. Adam.
It seemed odd that he hadn’t written more, odd that he hadn’t signed it love, Adam. I shook my head to dispel my negativity. Surely this was part of Adam’s big surprise plan for today. It wasn’t his fault he had arrived home early on the day I’d finally received the mail I’d been waiting for. The letter weighing heavy in my pocket dampened the usual excitement I would have felt knowing Adam had something special planned for us. But at this moment, my mind was focused on one thing only—the photo in the envelope.
I couldn’t wait any longer to see who was in the picture. Not another minute. I ran back down to the Lexus, wrenched the door open, and sat back down. Pulse racing, mouth dry, I pulled the envelope from my jacket pocket. I flipped it over, tore the flap, pulled out the piece of copy paper, unfolded it…
No no no! It couldn’t be.
But the image before me wasn’t lying. With my mouth agape, I stared and stared. The envelope—now as empty as the one in evidence—fluttered to the floor.
Oh. My. God.
Finally I blinked. But I continued to stare at the image of the Polaroid photo Jimmy had copied. It depicted exactly what he had claimed it would—an image of a blonde woman clearly making out with Chelsea Hannigan. Maybe it had all been part of a bet, but neither party appeared to be just “goofing around.” They both looked like they were into it. Way into it. Well, maybe the blonde more so than Chelsea.
And I knew that blonde. I could deny it all I wanted, but the image showed the truth. The mystery woman was a mystery no longer. The mystery woman had been my best friend in high school. And she was currently missing. Yes, the blonde mystery woman kissing Chelsea Hannigan was none other than Ami Dubois-Hensley. And what did that mean?
Ami had been involved with Chelsea, obviously. Did that mean Ami knew what happened to her? God, had she done something to her? But Ami was missing now as well, so maybe she’d known too much. Maybe someone had silenced Ami. Is that why she’d been trying to protect me? Was she afraid that if I knew what she knew, then I’d be in danger of disappearing too? But what had Ami known?
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the photo and what it depicted. This was the reason Jimmy was dead. Why was it so imperative that this picture remain undiscovered?
I shoved the photo back into my jacket pocket and started toward the lighthouse.
Adam.
How did he fit into all of this? Had he known who was in the photo all along? Was that the reason he’d downplayed its significance? Or would he be just as surprised as I was to find out who was in this picture with Chelsea?
I couldn’t imagine Adam keeping Ami on as an employee if he’d know about her and his fiancée. Or was his involvement much more insidious? I was sickened as I imagined all the ways Adam could possibly be a part of this. And if he were, then I’d been played thoroughly…and set up perfectly to take the fall.
As I neared the lighthouse, heavy clouds rolled in, eclipsing the sun. I passed the café, but it was dark inside, the sign on the door flipped to display the “closed” side. Weird, it had been open less than an hour ago. Why was it closed now?
I drove until I reached the end of the road, parking the car close to the edge of the sidewalk where it was only a short walk to the top of the steep, uneven steps that trailed precariously down the side of the cliff. I got out of the car, walked the path I’d traveled with Adam weeks ago. When I reached the edge, I looked down. A fog had rolled in over the dark rocks, engulfing the base of the tall, looming lighthouse in the distance.
Here goes nothing, I thought.
Carefully I began the descent, negotiating my way down the slippery, worn steps. A gust of icy November air cut through my thin jacket, making me shiver. The temperature was dropping, the winds picking up in intensity. When I finally reached the base of the steps, I had
