HELL'S HALF ACRE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 2) by JACKIE ELLIOTT (classic literature books .txt) 📗

“Wow, this is amazing,” the man said. “You’ve done wonders with this place.”

“Oh, have you been here before?” Katie asked. “I don’t think I know you. But then, I’ve been at university for the last few years,” she added, feeling silly. Of course there were new people in town.

“I was here years ago,” the man said. “I’m back because of business. I’m a real estate developer. Always been interested in this little place. I visited the museum once before, but it was cluttered and a fierce old lady told me off for touching the glass.” He laughed.

Katie smiled. “Clara Bell. She is quite the character.”

She gave the man a quick tour, explaining how and where the exhibits would be presented. Remembering her sales pitch, she said, “The Heritage Festival starts soon. We’ll be ready for that, and I’m arranging a series of historical tours around the town, if you’re interested?”

“Sounds fascinating. If I’m here, I’ll certainly make time. Actually . . .” The man looked at her and then murmured, almost to himself, “No, probably just an old legend,” and shrugged.

“What is?” Katie asked, instantly curious.

“Well, I heard an old story once about how Coffin Cove got its name and I always wondered if there was any truth in it. It was about a priest who built a chapel in the woods.”

“A chapel? I don’t know of any chapel . . . There’s an old church in the valley. Could it be that one?” Katie asked.

“No, it was built of stone, but if it still exists, it will be derelict now, I’m sure. It’s supposed to be haunted by the ghost of a child. Apparently, the priest insisted on carrying out burials beside the chapel, even though he was warned that the area was too wet. He dug a grave for a small child who died, but before they could fill the grave, there was a tremendous storm. The coffin was dislodged by massive waves and washed out to sea. The child still haunts the chapel because he or she didn’t get a proper burial, or so the legend goes. And hence the name of the town . . . Coffin Cove, see?” The man laughed again. “Don’t mind me. It’s only an old story I heard once.”

Katie shook her head. “I’ve never heard that one. Where is the chapel supposed to be?”

He thought for a minute. “I think it’s somewhere in the wooded area by the gravel pit. There are some trails down to the beach. Do you know where I mean?”

“I do,” Katie said, surprised. “I live right by the gravel pit.”

“Oh, so you would know those woods?”

“Well, I was never allowed to play on the trails. There are so many old mineshafts around there my dad was always worried I would fall in one. So apart from one main path to the beach, I’ve never explored much.”

“Well, as I say, probably just an old tale.” The man cocked his head to one side and looked at her. “If the chapel exists, it would be a fun addition to your tour, don’t you think?”

Katie beamed. “What a good idea! Maybe I’ll take a hike out there.”

She could hear her dad coming through the back entrance of the museum.

“That’s my dad, I’ll ask him about it,” she said.

“You do that.” The man held out his hand. “Here’s my card, Miss Dagg. Good luck with the new venture. I look forward to those tours.”

And he was gone.

Katie shoved the card in her pocket.

She asked Lee about the chapel, but he looked at her blankly.

“Sounds like an old wives’ tale to me,” he said. “Ask someone in the Historical Society. But be careful if you go hiking out there. Those old mineshafts are overgrown and bloody dangerous.”

He and Nadine had been in the midst of another row. He’d been drawn and preoccupied, so Katie left it at that.

Mr Gomich, Katie’s old history teacher and president of the Coffin Cove Historical Society, had chuckled when Katie called.

“I haven’t heard that old story for years,” he said.

“So there’s really a chapel?” Katie asked, amazed.

“Supposedly. But I don’t think it dates back that far. I think the Whilley family built it. They used to own the property your house is on, and that stretch of land down to the beach was in their family for years.”

Katie said, “Mr Gomich, do you think the society members would be up for a field trip?”

Chapter Five

Nadine admired her newly constructed breasts in the mirror. Cautiously, she lifted each one and checked underneath. The scar lines had faded. That was a relief. On Friday, for the first time, her new breasts would be on public view. Well, not uncovered, of course, but the belly dancing outfits were quite revealing, and she expected that her enhanced chest would get quite a lot of attention. Nadine liked attention. She turned from side to side to admire her profile, focusing on her upturned nipples and ignoring the rolls of belly fat that obscured her nude crotch.

Nadine had “invested” a considerable amount of her husband’s money in the renovation of her chest and the removal of all body hair.

Hair, when it wasn’t growing on a head, revolted her. So did fat, and that was the focus of her next expenditure.

As she advanced through middle age, Nadine was making her body a project, with four main objectives — remove wrinkles, fat, body hair and “cankles”.

She couldn’t stop time, but she would defeat the gravitational pull and effects of aging on her body, she had decided, using her husband’s bank account as her main weapon.

What next, she thought? Liposuction?

As she mused in front of the mirror, the bedroom door swung open.

Lee Dagg marched in, pulling off a grubby sweater. He looked at his