COFFIN COVE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 1) by JACKIE ELLIOTT (tharntype novel english .txt) 📗

“We’re meeting tomorrow at Hephzibah’s,” Harry said abruptly. “Be there early if you want your story. You’ll find out it’s not the fucking sea lions that need saving, it’s us. The fishermen are the only endangered species around here.”

He turned and walked away before Andi could answer.

As Harry left the Fat Chicken, two young men dressed in army fatigues, but sporting ponytails and nose piercings so that nobody could mistake them for military men, pushed past him when he swung open the door.

“What the fuck?” Harry said, loud enough for Walter to pay attention.

The men ignored Harry as he let the door swing shut behind him, obviously irritated. They laughed, and Andi watched them slide into a booth. She guessed from Harry’s reaction that they must be members of the so-called Black OPS protest group.

“Fuckin’ fisherman.”

That confirmed it. Andi couldn’t see them from the bar but heard clearly enough. She wondered how she could shuffle along the bar so she could listen in to their conversation without being noticed.

Walter took their order for two beers, and the two started talking in low tones.

Andi kept her back to the booth and carried on eating, straining to hear. She caught a couple of references to “Pierre” and “Mason”, and the word “march”, but Walter put an end to her eavesdropping. “How was the fish?”

“Really good,” Andi said, meaning it. “The salad too.”

“Another soda?” Walter picked up her empty glass.

Andi shook her head. “No thanks. My laundry is probably finished by now, and I’ve got work to do.”

“Jim got you hard at it, eh?” Walter asked. “I hear you were out at Fred and Sue’s place today. You doing a story on Mason and Sarah?”

The low murmur from the booth stopped. Andi guessed that the two men had heard Walter mention Mason.

She answered loudly enough for them to hear. “Yes. It’s a real mystery. I’d like to help those poor people find some answers about Sarah’s death. So they can finally have some peace, at least.”

“That’s good,” Walter nodded in approval and waved off Andi’s attempt to pay for her meal.

“It’s on the house. Your first poached salmon meal.” He winked at her.

Andi, still mystified, lingered over her soda water.

The two men finished their beer and left the bar. Andi scrolled through her phone and began tapping in a few notes about the meeting with Sue and Fred McIntosh.

“May I buy you a drink?” A man sat on the stool beside Andi.

“Thanks, but I’m . . . oh.” Andi looked up and saw Pierre Mason sitting beside her. He wasn’t smiling.

“Then perhaps I could take up a few minutes of your time?” he asked, gesturing at the booth behind them recently vacated by his colleagues. Andi nodded, guessing that after the two men overheard her mentioning Mason in connection with Sarah McIntosh, they had immediately reported back to Mason.

She was right.

“Andi — may I call you Andi?” Mason began after they were seated, and having waved off Walter, who hovered for a moment, probably displeased that Mason was there.

Andi tensed. Mason must have looked her up. Maybe he’d read her articles. She’d covered environmental protests before, but she couldn’t recall their paths crossing. She tried to keep her face expressionless, not wanting to let him know she was bothered. She nodded for Mason to continue.

“Andi, you probably know that I was falsely accused of being involved in the death of that poor girl,” Mason started.

“You mean Sarah McIntosh?” Andi interrupted, wishing that she had her phone set to voice record.

“I mean Sarah McIntosh, yes,” Mason confirmed. He had a slight French accent and a formal way of speaking that gave away his Quebec roots. He was neat — head shaved closely to disguise that he was going bald, his sweater unrumpled — and he sat upright. Again, Andi was reminded of someone in the military. He had an air of preciseness.

“The police cleared me at the time of any involvement whatsoever,” Mason continued. “Unfortunately, Jim Peters and his father continued to publish unfounded accusations, tarnishing my reputation.” He smiled unpleasantly and leaned forward. “I had to involve my lawyer back then, Andi, and I won’t hesitate to do so again.”

Andi didn’t move, not wanting Mason to think she was intimidated.

“I’m only interested in uncovering the truth for the McIntosh family,” she said.

“Ah, but that’s the problem, isn’t it, Andi?” Mason said quickly. “The reason you are here in this backwater is because of your . . . let’s say . . . unfortunate relationship with the truth, isn’t that so?”

Andi felt herself redden. Mason had done his homework, all right. She decided to let that go. “Mr Mason, you must have known that your arrival in Coffin Cove would attract attention from the locals, right? So why are you here? Surely not for a couple of dead sea lions?”

“I’m an environmental activist, Andi,” Mason replied sternly. “It’s what I do, what I’ve always done. Take action against poaching, overfishing, protect our wildlife, our oceans—”

“And you believe that the fishermen here are involved in illegal activities?” Andi asked. “They seem to think your Black OPS Group are unfairly harassing them.”

“Ocean Protection Society,” Mason corrected her. “And we reported safety infractions to the relevant authorities, Andi. How is that harassment?”

“Is someone paying you, Mr Mason?” Andi tried another approach.

Mason smiled and ignored the question.

“You’re missing the bigger picture, Andi. And this surprises me, because I’ve read some of your previous work, and it seems you’ve always been able to maintain some perspective. Until now.”

Andi tried again. “Did you have a relationship with Sarah, Mr Mason?” she asked. “Because you were seen with her just before she disappeared. You’d have been, what . . . thirty-ish? And she was fifteen, right? Is that what you’ve always