J.T. appeared kind of happy our conversation wasn’t over after all. I imagined it was hard to make amends to all the people you’d hurt when you’d been fucked up. It couldn’t be easy knowing you did things you never would have done had you been sober.
“Okay,” he said, “ask away.” His expression conveyed his eagerness. I knew him well enough to know he wanted to mend this relationship he had destroyed.
I felt confident I’d get an answer of some sort, so I began, “Back in October, I was taking a walk over on Fade Island.” I paused. “Over on the east side.” J.T. stared at me. Perplexed, I assumed. So I continued, “I saw you there, J.T., in the woods.”
I gave him a moment to let my words sink it. His brow creased, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, shit, you saw me that day? I thought I was alone.”
“Um, yeah, I kind of figured as much. But I was there and I saw you. You were digging something up. Or maybe you were…burying something?”
J.T. scratched the side of his head, frowning. “Yeah, I was burying a box, uh, a metal lockbox.”
Okay, that’s strange.
“What was in it?” I ventured, since he had, thus far, been forthcoming.
“I don’t know, Maddy. It wasn’t mine. Ami Hensley gave it to me. She asked me to throw it overboard on one of the ferry runs. I buried it instead, though. She was always changing her mind about things, and I thought she might want it back someday.”
Whoa, wait, I thought, this could be big. “Ami gave you a metal box? And she didn’t tell you what was in it? You have no idea?”
“None at all,” he replied.
“You didn’t look inside?”
“It was locked, Maddy.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t really care what was in it, anyway,” he said. “I was really messed up that day. I wasn’t even thinking straight. I probably should have just thrown it in the ocean like she asked. I don’t know where it is, though, even if she ever did want it back. To this day, I have no idea where I buried the stupid thing.”
“Uh, that was actually going to be my next question,” I admitted.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Maddy. I’d help you if I could, but I really have no clue. I just remember walking around in the woods for a while that day, and then stopping and digging. The whole day is really just a blur.”
J.T. started to look frustrated, uncomfortable even, so I stopped pushing right there. The guy was fresh out of rehab, and this time—so far—he was staying clean. I didn’t want to upset him in some way, send him spiraling. “That’s fine,” I said. “I’m sure it wasn’t anything important.”
We talked a few minutes more, and J.T. thanked me again for accepting his apology. I really did want him to stay clean and keep his nose out of trouble. It gave me hope that a part of him I thought was long gone seemed to still be there. And it made a kind of weird sense that Ami had entrusted him with something she’d wanted disposed of. Once upon a time Ami, J.T., and I had been the best of friends. But that was a long, long time ago.
I headed to the checkout line, but all I could think now was this: what was in that lockbox? What would Ami have wanted to see lost at sea? Maybe it was something related to the Harbour Falls Mystery. But that case had been solved. I supposed the police would still be interested if the box contained some piece of evidence.
But what if the box contained something else? The timing was awfully close to when Adam had allowed me to find the phony newspaper clipping. And Ami had obviously played a role in that little ruse. What if the box contained something related to the real secret I was trying to uncover?
It was too late tonight; full darkness had fallen. But I knew exactly where I was going first thing tomorrow morning—Fade Island.
Chapter Eight
All set to go the next day, I dressed in what seemed to have become my investigative uniform—dark skinny jeans, layers of long-sleeved tees, and a heavy cable knit sweater. I sat down on the sofa and laced up the final piece, my trusty hiking boots. On my way out the door, I grabbed a mid-weight jacket and headed to the driveway to get in my car.
The sun burned brightly on this late January day, the temperature actually above freezing. To my delight, much of the snow had melted. The heavy rain we’d had the night before had hastened the thaw. Consequently, the front lawn was a patchwork of clumpy snow amid washed-out and faded grass. I expected to find similar conditions over on Fade Island, which would be good, making my goal of finding the area where J.T. had buried the lockbox a whole lot easier. Or so I hoped.
In any case, I had it all planned out. There was a shovel in the basement of the cottage, so I’d stop by there and pick it up on my way to the east side. That way if I was successful in finding the right
