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

Brian began to calm down.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe if he just lay low for a bit they’d catch the shooter. Someone else might have heard the shot. Someone might have seen the killer’s truck arrive and leave. There was always some asshole watching everything, nosing in everyone’s business in this fucking town.

He tried to concentrate on his immediate situation. He needed food and somewhere to stay. Somewhere he could hide until the cops figured out who did the killing, and then he could come back.

He decided to take a chance and buy some food at the gas station. It was just up the road and it was early. He hadn’t heard any sirens . . . Maybe they weren’t looking for him yet? Then where to go next?

Brian suddenly remembered a place he could go. A place he hadn’t been for years. Nobody would think to look for him there.

He checked the cash in his back pocket, felt in his rucksack for his box of treasures and felt comforted. It would all work out.

Feeling almost cheerful, he headed towards the gas station, keeping his head down, and ducking as far out of sight as possible whenever a car or truck passed him.

Chapter Seventeen

Brenda lingered at Steveston Dock. Eight o’clock in the morning, and the marine mist was already clearing. The muddy Fraser River shimmered, disturbed only by a large grey seal, rolling lazily by the fishing boats, and seagulls skating along the surface.

It was too early for tourists in Steveston. Another couple of months and the town would be bustling.

So many changes, Brenda thought. As a child her father had brought her to Steveston to get freshly caught fish from the fishermen who sold their daily catch straight off the dock. She remembered the scream of the gulls circling the vessels as they came in, and the froth of blood and fish guts in the water. The old cannery was still in operation then. In those days, there was a steady stream of boats jostling for position to offload, just where she was standing now. The cannery closed a few years before Brenda started working for Nikos, and now tourists trooped through the old building learning about those historic heydays of the fishing industry, and gulls pounced on discarded junk food rather than rotting fish heads.

Not all changes were bad, Brenda thought. The stench of decomposing fish offal was gone. Brenda’s new apartment, built in place of the Imperial Plant that used to grind herring into powdered fish meal, had a spectacular view of the river and a smart new coffee house and boutiques on the ground floor.

She’d always loved living near the ocean and had bought into the new development before all the real estate prices went crazy. She lived a comfortable life and hoped that her current worries about Hades would be short-lived.

In the distance, Brenda could see a small aluminium boat heading up the river. She remembered waiting for that familiar sight with excitement and anticipation.

It’s the only thing missing, she thought. Someone to share my life.

She watched the boat get nearer and wondered if she had done the right thing. Wondered if she’d been waiting for a reason to make that phone call.

The past is the past, she told herself firmly. This is about saving the future. And she walked down the boat ramp to wait for the Pipe Dream to dock.

Brenda had often wondered how she would feel if she ever met up with Harry again. A long time ago, Brenda had hoped that their friendship would develop into something more intimate, but Harry was going through a divorce back then, and didn’t want the complication of another relationship while he fought for joint custody of his daughter.

So they agreed to be friends. And then drifted apart. Brenda was sad about that. She didn’t think she had waited for Harry, but in her mind, nobody had ever measured up, so most of her relationships had been short-lived.

She felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement as the Pipe Dream got nearer, and she saw Harry’s outline in the wheelhouse. Like a silly teenager, she thought. Pull yourself together.

He docked the Pipe Dream and hopped down from the wheelhouse. Still agile, Brenda noted, even if he was slightly thicker-set than she remembered. Grey hair and a face creased from the wind and sun — of course, it had been twenty years.

Brenda was suddenly self-conscious. Her hair, once jet black, was greying, and was scraped back in a bun, the same style she’d worn since she was a teenager. She didn’t go to the expensive gyms or trendy classes in the village, preferring to get her exercise from brisk walks in the ocean air, but she wasn’t as skinny as she’d been last time Harry saw her. And she hadn’t been happy either, then, she thought. They had argued — she had been hurt and a little selfish, she admitted to herself.

When they met face to face at the dock, she held out her hand. Harry laughed and gave her a hug. There was no trace of resentment or anger in his eyes, just the same kind twinkle, Brenda saw with relief, and she hugged him back.

“How have you been, Bren?” he asked.

“Good. And you?”

“All the better for seeing you,” he smiled. He used to say that to her every time they met. She was glad he hadn’t forgotten.

Brenda felt warm inside. I was right to call him. This would all be sorted out now.

Harry had fished for Nikos and Hades Fish Co. until he sold his licenses. His timing was good, Brenda thought, because the industry had waned since then. Nikos always liked Harry. He called him “the Gentleman Fisherman”.

“He never forgets that he’s only as good as his next catch,” Nikos used to say. “And he never steps