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

Vega sat back in his chair.

“Summer,” he said, watching her closely, “are you aware both Dennis Havers and his wife Sandra are dead? Shot sometime in the early hours of this morning?”

He watched as her eyes went wide and both hands flew to cover her mouth.

“Summer—” he leaned forward — “I have to ask you this. Do you still have that gun?”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Matt Beaufort made a surreptitious call to his wife. It was nine o’clock, and the detachment was still buzzing. It felt chaotic to Matt, as phones were ringing and Vega’s officers were rushing in and writing notes on the whiteboard or shouting to each other from behind their computer screens.

Inspector Vega stood in the middle of the room, calmly taking calls and assigning new tasks. Occasionally, he’d clap his hands as if he were the coach of some sporting team, encouraging them towards a win.

Matt told Lily he’d be late again. He didn’t have a specific task, but every so often, someone would stick their head out of the office and ask him to copy something or look something up.

All day he’d been making cups of tea for interviewees and sometimes taking notes for Vega’s detectives.

So far, the media hadn’t descended on Coffin Cove. But Vega had warned Matt it could happen soon.

“Hello?”

Matt looked up. He recognized Walter, the owner of the Fat Chicken.

“Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“Could I see Inspector Vega, please? I have some information for him. I’m not sure it will help, at least . . . I think . . .”

Matt smiled at the man. “Inspector Vega is busy. Maybe you can tell me?”

Walter nodded, “You’re right, of course. He must be run off his feet.”

Matt came out from behind the small counter and pointed to a couple of chairs in the foyer. “Sit down, sir. I’ll make some notes.”

Walter sat down. “You know, it sounds crazy, but I’ve talked to my wife, and then we called Jim Peters and we all think it’s peculiar.”

Matt was getting impatient. “Sir, the inspector can decide if it’s crazy or not.”

“I’ve seen a man in town the last few days. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He’s been staying at the Wilson Motel, and he told Peggy he was some kind of real estate developer. He was in the pub for the belly dancing thing too. And then, when I was in Andi’s apartment, I saw a photo on the wall. And I knew who the man reminded me of. Except the more I think about it, I think it’s really him. But . . .”

“But what, sir?”

Walter looked sheepish. “This is the crazy part. The man I think it is . . . he died years ago.”

* * *

Vega was frustrated. He stared at his cell phone, which was on loudspeaker, and wanted to hurl it across the room.

“You need more manpower, I know, Inspector. Unfortunately, there’s been a gang shooting here on the mainland, and a homicide in Prince George, so at the moment, you’re on your own until I can get more of our guys over there. However, you’ll have more locals at your disposal in the next hour or so. You can use them for door-to-door and interviewing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There was no use whining to the superintendent, it wasn’t her fault.

“It’s a bad business, Andrew.” Her voice softened. “I disliked Dennis Havers, but nobody deserves that. Are you sure it wasn’t suicide? A pact, maybe, between him and his wife?”

“No, ma’am. He looked like he was planning suicide. He left a note with a weird confession of sorts, but somebody finished the job for him. The gun was left at the scene. Wiped clean, of course, but I’ve got a team going over the house now.”

There was a brief silence.

“A confession, you say?”

“Yes. He said he was responsible for the death of a—” Vega looked down at his notes — “Daniel Ellis. We’ve looked him up, but it seems like he died years ago in a fishing accident. Dennis was not on the boat, so we don’t know what he meant. But we’re looking into it.”

“And the woman?”

“Identified as Nadine Dagg,” Vega answered.

“Cause of death?”

“Her throat was slit,” Vega said. “I’ll know more when the reports come in.”

Sinclair was silent again at the other end of the phone. Vega knew she wanted to ask more, but she never asked her officers to speculate. She’d wait for the report.

Vega continued, “And now Jade Thompson, the mayor, has gone missing.”

“Christ.”

“Ma’am, I have Summer Thompson here at the detachment. I’ve applied for a warrant to search her home. It seems she owns a gun. And there was an incident last year between Ricky and Jade Thompson. It seems Jade fired at Ricky, but Summer swears he wasn’t hurt. He went missing after that. I’m checking the dates.”

“And now Ricky’s body just showed up, and Dennis and Sandra are dead,” Sinclair said. “You’re thinking this missing persons report is designed to throw us off?”

“I have to think Summer Thompson, and possibly Jade, are suspects, ma’am, at least until we can rule them out.”

“And the other victim?”

“Not so sure about Nadine Dagg. It was a very clean slice, and I doubt either Jade or Summer would have the strength to do that. But forensics will tell us more. Hopefully, there’s some DNA evidence.”

“So you’re still looking at the husband for that?”

“In the absence of any other leads, ma’am, yes.”

Before Sinclair ended the call, Vega remembered something.

“Ma’am, there's something else I could use your help with.”

“If I can, Inspector, what do you need?”

“Remember you told me about an old investigation Emma was involved in — a drug cartel on the island? It involved a biker gang?”

“Yes, that’s right. Didn’t go anywhere.”

“Does Emma have the old files, ma’am?”