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

she’d told him. When he was ready to leave, he pressed a fifty-dollar note into her hand. For a moment she glared at him, but then stuffed it into a pocket in her skirt. Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him nearer.

“Come again soon, James. And next time, bring diesel.”

Jim watched her in his rear-view mirror through the dust until he rounded the corner. He sped up until his phone dinged and he knew he was back in the range for cell phone service. He pulled over and punched in Andi’s number. They were on to something now, he thought, as he waited for the call to connect.

Chapter Twenty

“Ready for a top-up?” Hephzibah smiled down at the man.

“Sure, why not?” He held up his mug and smiled back.

Hephzibah was pleased. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to get a better look at him. Walter had been adamant he’d recognized this man, and now Hephzibah was really curious.

She sneaked a look at his face while she filled his mug. In his sixties, maybe? That made him older than Harry, but they might have been in school together, if he was from Coffin Cove. He looked like he took care of himself. His face wasn’t weathered, like most men around here. His hands were smooth, his nails trimmed. Definitely not a man who worked outside.

Hephzibah said casually, “Are you visiting Coffin Cove? I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before?”

The man said, almost teasingly, “I was just in here the other day, you don’t remember?”

Hephzibah felt herself blush. “No, I meant . . .”

The man laughed. “I’m sorry, I know what you meant. I’m in town for a few days, looking at real estate. I’m a developer and I heard your new mayor has a plan for the old fish plant site.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Hephzibah said. “It’s time that old building came down. There was a murder there, you know, and it’s time we got rid of that old monstrosity.”

“A murder?” the man said and pointed to a stack of fresh newspapers on a rack. “Looks like it’s a common occurrence in Coffin Cove.”

“Oh, no, it’s a very tragic case. Ricky Havers was the son of our previous mayor . . . but it’s a really friendly town,” Hephzibah responded, wishing she’d put the papers out of sight. The headline wasn’t great advertising for the beginning of the tourist season, especially as the Heritage Festival kicked off this evening.

“Friendly? Is that right?” the man murmured.

“I hope it doesn’t put you off. We need new blood.” God, Hephzibah thought, not the best choice of words to use!

“Oh, bad things happen everywhere,” said the man as he picked up his coffee. Hephzibah took that as a signal he wanted to be left in peace, but she hadn’t yet got a name. She didn’t recognize him at all, and only a name would satisfy Walter’s curiosity.

“Have you been to Coffin Cove before?” Hephzibah tried.

“Long time ago. I had relatives who lived here once.” The man focused once again on his coffee, in a way that told Hephzibah the conversation was now over.

* * *

Vega swore. “This is a damn hatchet job! Have you read this?”

Diane Fowler nodded. “It’s unfair, sir.”

He sank into a chair. It wasn’t even nine o’clock, and already the day was going badly.

He reread the article on the front page of the Coffin Cove Gazette. The paper only printed once a week, on Fridays, and it was distributed to every household and business in town. But thanks to Andi, the Gazette also had an impressive presence on social media, and Vega was certain Superintendent Sinclair would hear about this soon enough. The RCMP monitored online media for every mention of their activity, and this article wasn’t just reporting that Ricky Havers’ body had been found, it was confirming murder. If that wasn’t bad enough, the article questioned the police response to Ricky’s disappearance. More than just question, Vega saw with dismay. It was an unbridled attack.

“If our Mounties had done their job, would Ricky still be alive?”

Andi’s article was a methodical takedown of the entire investigation, from Charlie Rollins’ fuck-ups to their own “inadequate” press briefing.

“Coffin Cove deserves better,” the article concluded. “Let’s hope our new mayor will demand immediate improvements.”

Vega held his head in his hands. Andi hadn’t mentioned him or his team specifically, but he’d got the message loud and clear.

“Has Charlie Rollins seen this?” he asked.

Sergeant Fowler shrugged. “If he hasn’t, it won’t be long before he does. You know what this place is like.”

Vega nodded. “Keep him away from the front desk. I don’t want him or anyone else talking to the press. Especially not Andi Silvers or Jim Peters. I’ll talk to Sinclair and see what we can do to limit the fallout. To try and at least stop the rest of the media descending on us.”

“Are you going to respond to this?” Diane asked, holding up the paper between her fingers as if it were a soiled tissue.

“Not sure. I must talk to the Havers.”

If Dennis Havers was involved, Vega thought, he’d be on full alert. Damn Andi. She didn’t know the damage she’d done.

“Sir, PC Matt Beaufort. He thinks it was him who tipped off the Gazette. He didn’t mean to. He just let it slip, and now he’s shitting a brick,” Diane said.

“And so he should be,” Vega said, annoyed.

“The thing is, sir, I’ve been watching him. He’s not like Charlie. He’s dedicated, and in the short time he’s been here, he’s made a good impression on the community. They like him and they talk to him. He could be an asset, if—”

“If I don’t blast him for a silly mistake?” Vega finished.

“Yes, sir.” Diane looked relieved.

Vega nodded. “OK, I’ll talk to him later. You take him with