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

“Go on,” Vega said, his tone sharper.

“Sandra thinks Dennis had something to do with Ricky’s disappearance. She asked me to help her after . . . well, after you guys stopped looking.”

“The case was open, Andi.” Vega felt defensive, but he knew she was right. “Have you found anything?”

“Not yet, Andrew. But I will not stop looking. I promised Sandra.”

“Damn it, Andi, you know that woman is grieving. She’s looking for someone to blame. Who knows what damage you’ll do to their marriage, their lives? Whatever you think of Dennis, Ricky was his only son. You can’t destroy a man just because you’re looking for a story.”

There was silence at the other end of the line.

“The damage was done, Andrew, when you — or at least, Sergeant Rollins — failed to do his job. And now you’re closing ranks.”

Vega exploded. “How dare you, Andi? I’m here to investigate the death of Ricky Havers. If — and only if — there’s evidence of foul play, we’ll find it. And if anyone has been derelict in their duty, then we’ll find that out too. Let us do our damn job.”

“You do your job, Inspector, and I’ll do mine.”

Vega sighed. “I can’t stop you, Andi. I don’t want to stop you. But if you get in the way of my investigation or hold back any information . . .” His voice tailed off.

There was another silence at the other end. Vega wished he hadn’t lost his temper and opened his mouth to apologize.

Andi said, “Good night, Andrew,” and the phone went dead.

He put his cell down after the call. He regretted his outburst. Why did he let Andi Silvers get under his skin? At least Andi sounded more like her old self, he thought ruefully. He remembered visiting Andi in hospital after she’d been shot. It was a wake-up call for the intrepid journalist. The last time they’d met — just after Ricky’s disappearance — he’d thought she seemed subdued. He sighed as he thought of Andi’s disguised probing for information a moment ago. He was used to getting rid of journalists. But Andi was different. He really hoped their separate investigations wouldn’t clash this time because he knew she would already be looking for that all-important story and wouldn’t rest until she got it.

Vega looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was after midnight. He only had a few hours to get some sleep before he was up and back to the detachment. But instead of heading to bed, he opened his laptop and grabbed files from his briefcase.

The first hours of an investigation were usually the most crucial, but this investigation would be different. Ricky had been missing for months. Any evidence at the scene would surely be compromised, and the killer or killers were, most likely, far away.

Vega knew what he had promised the Havers. His team would not rest, but a definite conclusion to this investigation — well, it seemed unlikely. He cursed himself and Charlie Rollins again. If only . . .

But he checked this train of thought. It wouldn’t do Ricky any good now. Besides, whoever killed Ricky Havers probably did so at the time of his disappearance. There wouldn’t have been a reason to keep him alive unless they wanted a ransom — and nobody asked for one.

He mulled over what Andi had told him. Sandra suspected Dennis. Hopefully, he’d bought himself and the team some time. All the Haverses knew at the moment was that their son was dead. And that was a hard enough burden to bear.

He shook his head. Facts first, he told himself. And there was one major fact in this case: Ricky had seriously pissed someone off.

Vega groaned and finally fell back on the bed. He rolled over and closed his eyes and slept fitfully until his alarm rang.

Chapter Fourteen

Andrew Vega was an early riser, but he always programmed the alarm on his phone just in case. He hated being late. Plus, he’d stayed at the Wilson Motel in Coffin Cove before and knew that Peggy Wilson walked her dog in the morning. He did not want to bump into her.

She was a gossip.

Peggy had probably already broadcasted Vega’s arrival and booking to her network, and his every move from now on would be the subject of speculation.

Vega wasn’t about to give away any gossip fodder, but he still didn’t want the distraction, so he rose as soon as the alarm sounded, showered and left his motel room.

He stood outside the door and looked around. Peggy had done some long-needed renovations. The entire building had been repainted. Outside every door was a hanging basket and there were new room numbers on the wall.

Vega had noticed the new sheets, comfortable mattress and fluffy towels, in sharp contrast to his last stay.

The upgrades must be working, he thought, as he saw a brand-new Mercedes parked in the bay next to his room.

Vega hadn’t had time to see the rest of the town, but he’d heard the new mayor was determined to make Coffin Cove a tourist destination and had implemented improvements. He’d also learned about the plans to demolish the old fish plant and thought it could only be a good thing. Apart from being an eyesore on the waterfront, the derelict building had been the scene of a murder just a little more than a year ago. It was a reminder of a traumatic time, and pulling it down would mark a fresh start.

Vega hoped he could put this investigation to bed as soon as possible. The most probable theory, given Ricky’s chosen career and his associates, was that he had made some unfortunate choices and enemies of the wrong people. It was tragic, but these things did happen. But Superintendent Sinclair’s “bad feeling” about Dennis Havers bothered Vega, especially now that even his own wife suspected