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

fishing seasons after that. He often says that he spent all that money for no reason. That narrows the time frame down.”

“So how does this help us?” Andi asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Jim replied. “But Mason sent that picture for a reason. And if you really intend to talk to the DFO about their sea lion policy, then you might as well follow up on this too.”

“Good idea. What about Harry? Is he back?”

“Not sure, I’ll check while you’re at the DFO. Might as well drop into Mason’s office while you’re there.” Jim smiled at Andi. “Chance to get out of town while you-know-who is around, right?”

Andi smiled back, grateful for Jim’s understanding.

She got up to go, but a question had been nagging at her since last night. She just wasn’t sure of Jim’s reaction.

“About Harry,” she started, “it seems strange that he disappears right after Mason is found dead . . . and I get a picture of his boat on my email from the dead guy.”

She waited while Jim leaned on his desk and clasped his hands at the back of his head. Finally he said, “You know, it is odd. But I’ve known Harry for a long time. He’s never taken much notice of what people might think if he does something. He just does it.”

“Should we keep an open mind, though?” Andi asked. There was something about Hephzibah’s enigmatic older brother that intrigued her, and she hoped he wasn’t involved. But she’d been wrong about men before.

“Yes.” Jim was serious. “We go where the facts take us, Andi. That’s our job.”

Chapter Nineteen

When Brenda got to the office after breakfast with Harry and Nikos, she waited until Amy was huddled in Adrian’s office before making a surreptitious call to the Department of Fisheries and Oceans’ laboratory from her own cell phone. For a few hundred dollars, Brenda discovered, she could find out exactly where a fish had been caught, just from a tiny scale sample. Brenda made a few notes about the procedure and was relieved that the lady on the other end of the line hadn’t bothered to ask why she needed the samples analysed.

That’s the easy part, Brenda thought. The next evening, she would have to find an excuse to wander around the cold storage.

Steve Hilstead did not appear at the office, but news of Pierre Mason had filtered back.

“A dead body in Coffin Cove!” Amy said. “The only exciting thing that’s ever happened there, I bet. It’s a dump. Have you ever been there?”

Brenda nodded. “A long time ago,” she said. “A lot of our fishermen live there. It’s quite pretty, actually,” she added, but Amy had lost interest.

Curious, Brenda googled Pierre Mason. She found a brief article posted by the Vancouver Mail. It was sparse on detail: Mason’s body had been found in the old fish plant. He had apparently died by a gunshot wound. Suicide had been ruled out by the coroner and the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team had been called in. Inspector Vega, the senior investigator, stated that they had “one person of interest” they were actively seeking, but apart from that, no leads. The article summarized Mason’s controversial career.

Brenda remembered Mason from a Greenpeace campaign against commercial fishing — overfishing, they contended. Mason was all about the publicity. He ran the Greenpeace vessel, the Ocean Crusader, and made headlines by firing water cannons at the fishing boats. He had nearly rammed the Pipe Dream, and hot-tempered Harry had aimed his rifle at Mason, threatening to shoot, until the crew calmed him down.

Wanting to milk the last drop of media attention, Mason insisted on pressing charges. Finally, Harry had to go to court, and luckily got a judge who was quickly weary of Mason and his supporters’ grandstanding. Nikos and all his crew had been ready to testify but the judge dismissed all charges. Mason didn’t care. He got what he wanted — publicity and donations.

It bothered Brenda a little that Harry hadn’t mentioned it that morning. Now Mason was dead, after leading a protest in Coffin Cove, and somehow Hades was involved with him, according to the paperwork she’d found.

Was it possible that this was all coincidence? Was she getting paranoid in her old age?

The rest of the day passed without incident, and Brenda was glad she didn’t have to talk to Adrian, and that Steve Hilstead was nowhere to be seen. Finally, Adrian left the office — early, of course — and Amy trotted out less than five minutes after.

Brenda, too, went home.

I have to get Nikos some concrete proof, she thought. This was on her mind all evening.

She didn’t sleep well. She lay awake, agonizing over whether she had done the right thing by making a big fuss and calling Nikos and Harry. Maybe she had overreacted. Maybe there was a simple explanation. But if there was, then the lab tests would prove it. And if she had been wrong all along — well, maybe it was time to quit. She’d manage. Just tighten her belt. The apartment was just about paid for, maybe she would get a part-time job in a coffee shop . . . but she was sure that she was right. She had been in this business a long time.

Brenda’s stream of thoughts swirled round and round. To think about something else for a moment, and maybe get some rest, she focused on Harry. What do I feel about him? She tried to analyse her feelings. She’d been glad to see him. It felt . . . comfortable? Was she too old to think there would be any more than just the warm familiarity of old friends after all this time?

She adjusted her pillow, turned on her bedside lamp and read a few chapters of her book.

Brenda finally drifted to sleep in the early hours of the morning, but only slept for a while. She woke