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on anyone else to get it.”

Brenda knew that Harry could talk to Nikos about Adrian without upsetting him or insulting his son. She knew how proud Nikos could be.

Yesterday, Adrian arrived back from breakfast (surprisingly early, Brenda thought) looking worried. He shut himself in the office, even telling Amy curtly after signing the cheques that he was too busy to be bothered with the social media strategy. He didn’t emerge for the rest of the day.

Brenda left early. She rarely did that, but Amy was still too busy sulking from being dismissed from Adrian’s office to notice. So Brenda gathered up the mail to take to the post office, making sure that the cheque she had written was included. The worried fisherman would receive payment, at least. Then she hurried home to think over the day’s events.

As she sat in her tiny apartment, alone, she made a few notes about what she had discovered in Adrian’s desk. She wished she had taken a few pictures with her phone, but she could remember enough to make some realistic assumptions about what was going on.

Brenda was certain that Hades Fish Co. was buying illegal fish and that Steve Hilstead had either arranged it or was heavily involved. She didn’t know what to do next. If she ignored it and Hades got caught, Adrian would face a fine and possibly jail time. If they didn’t get caught then Steve Hilstead, she was sure, would get more brazen. She wondered what he was getting out of it. He didn’t strike her as particularly selfless. And he was part of the reason that Hades was struggling. He’d encouraged Adrian to refurbish the offices and open the bistro. Adrian had needed little persuading, though. He loved luxury and hadn’t begrudged a penny of the thousands he’d spent on that ridiculous hipster place.

Thousands of Nikos’s hard earned cash, Brenda thought, and now they wanted to make a quick buck by selling substandard illegal fish and squeezing the fishermen who’d always been loyal to Nikos.

Brenda briefly considered quitting in disgust. But she was too young to retire, and wouldn’t get much of a pension. She’d hoped to have more savings before she stopped work. She’d been with Hades for her entire working life — who else would hire her now?

Besides, she owed Nikos Palmer a lot. He’d asked her to stay on and help his son. He deserved her loyalty. Maybe if she could persuade the old man to talk to his son, get rid of Steve, maybe, she fantasized, he might come back temporarily . . .

She needed some help. So she picked up her phone and called the only person she trusted, other than Nikos, to give her good advice.

Harry listened. If he had been surprised to hear from Brenda, he said nothing. He agreed with her. Nikos had given them both a chance and now they owed him the respect of at least laying out the truth. It would be Nikos’ decision, Harry said, what to do next, before telling her that he would come over.

“It’s a bit crazy over here,” he told Brenda, but didn’t say why. “I could do with getting out of Coffin Cove for a bit.”

And seeing me? Brenda hoped so.

She would have to lay out her case. Be factual, not accuse anyone of anything, but suggest that Steve wasn’t a good influence on Adrian. She grabbed her laptop and googled Steve Hilstead. Three articles popped up, one only dating back a year. He’d been charged with harvesting abalone. Brenda was astonished. Abalone, a shellfish that once had been plentiful on the West Coast, was now on the endangered list. The delicacy had been practically wiped out back in the nineties.

It was well known in the industry that organized crime syndicates paid large sums of money for the illegal shellfish. Poachers who got caught with abalone usually got massive fines, but Steve Hilstead was acquitted. There wasn’t much information, but Brenda read that Hilstead’s lawyer had put forward evidence that the DFO officers had conducted an illegal search.

Digging back further, Brenda found Steve had been charged several times for violating the Fisheries Act, but he had never got more than a fine.

He must have a good lawyer. In any case, the information was scant, and she wasn’t sure what she was looking for, anyway.

The omelettes at the Steveston Hotel were Brenda’s favourite. She ordered from the waitress who had worked the breakfast shift forever and thanked her for the coffee.

While she and Harry waited for Nikos to arrive, she told Harry again, this time in more detail, about her suspicions about Hilstead and what she had found in Adrian’s desk.

She coloured a little and stumbled over her words as she described her snooping, but Harry touched her arm.

“You did the right thing, Bren. Nikos and Adrian will thank you. Hilstead is bad news.”

Before Brenda could ask what he meant, Nikos Palmer arrived at the café. As he shuffled towards them, Brenda hoped her face didn’t show her shock at seeing how frail her former boss had become. Nikos wasn’t ever a big man, but his personality used to fill every room he was in. Now, he seemed shrunken and small — fearful, even, Brenda thought.

If Harry was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“Nikos!” He stood up and grabbed the old man’s outstretched hand.

“Harry. Good to see you, man. And Brenda. You two ask me here to invite me to your wedding?” Brenda was pleased to see the humour in his eyes, and she hugged him.

“No way, Nikos, I’m holding out for someone better!” she laughed.

“Ah, did you hear that, Harry? You’d better smarten up!” Nikos, a first-generation immigrant, had never lost his accent. He was full of energy and drive and swept everyone along with him.

Remembering that enthusiasm, Brenda felt twenty years fall away as she listened to

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