COFFIN COVE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 1), JACKIE ELLIOTT [most recommended books txt] 📗

At least she’d got some work done last night. For the first time since she moved to Coffin Cove, she felt a sense of purpose. A story was within her grasp.

The previous evening, Andi had scribbled down some notes on her encounter with Pierre Mason. She then sat sipping her wine, trying to fit together the pieces of the story she’d discovered so far.

Nothing was making much sense. Andi knew what she had to do. When she was consumed by a complex investigation, Andi found it easier to figure out how all the different strands of details came together if she created a visual story wall. It clarified her thoughts and allowed her to see relationships and connections that might have otherwise been lost in the mass of information she collected.

It was a process that served her well, and she remembered with irritation that she had stopped doing this when she was with Gavin. He had teased her about it and called her Nancy Drew. Desperate to impress him, she’d laughed and agreed that it was ridiculous.

And look what happened, she thought. But she didn’t want to wallow in the past. Instead, she put her wine glass down and rearranged the few pieces of furniture in the apartment so she had one clear wall. Then she worked through Jim’s files and her own notes and created a spider’s web on the wall using postcards, pins and string.

A few hours in, and she already had half the wall covered. Jim had been thorough. Andi found notes of interviews with people she hadn’t heard of. He’d spoken to Sarah’s friends and schoolteachers, there were multiple notes about Joe, Sue, Fred and his late wife, Ruth, plus photographs of a much younger Pierre Mason.

By the time she had finished the bottle of wine, she had been through all the files and it was after midnight.

This morning Andi’s story wall prompted more questions than answers. This was usual. It was the beauty of the wall. Eventually, the story would tell itself, Andi theorized, as she drained her coffee cup. She felt better. She threw her notebook and phone in her purse and headed to Hephzibah’s for her second shot of caffeine.

Hephzibah had arranged a few mismatched tables and chairs outside the café for customers to make the most of the morning sunshine. The sun made all the difference to the town, Andi thought. The sky was already a deep blue, and the ocean sparkled as far as she could see. This had to be the prettiest day yet in Coffin Cove, and Andi felt lighter. She felt free. No secrets to keep, no facade to keep up. She promised herself again that she would leave the wine alone for a while and really get to grips with this story.

She realized as she got nearer the café that not everyone was sharing the same positive vibe.

Harry sat at one of Hephzibah’s outside tables, his hand gripping his coffee. A gaggle of fishermen surrounded him. Andi couldn’t hear what they were saying until she got closer, but she could see by their folded arms and hostile demeanour that they were not very cheery at all. She caught snippets of the conversation as she slipped past them into the café.

“It’s all right for you, Harry,” one of them was saying, “but I can’t be tied up for another day.”

Hephzibah was pouring her coffee before Andi got to the service bar.

“What’s going on with those guys?” Andi asked.

“Another day tied at the dock,” Hephzibah answered. “Those protestors called in a bunch of so-called infractions to DFO and they can’t go fishing until they get inspected.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” Andi was beginning to understand what this all meant to the angry men outside.

“You’ll understand more when you sit in at the meeting. Harry wanted you to be here.”

“Really?” Andi thought back to the previous evening. “I’m not sure Harry has a high opinion of reporters.”

“It’s true, he hasn’t had good experiences with the media. But he trusts Jim, and Jim employed you, so he thinks you must be OK.”

Hephzibah smiled at Andi.

“Harry spends too much time on the ocean or with other fishermen. He doesn’t have much practice talking to women these days.”

“He’s not married?” Andi looked outside where Harry was talking animatedly. Not bad looking, she thought.

“He was. Divorced, and one daughter. My niece is all grown-up now.”

“Harry’s a lot older than you?”

“Fifteen years. My mother left Ed, my dad, when I was a baby and I went with her. I never knew Harry until my mother died. Harry was married then, but he still took me in. We’re very close now. He’s a good man. Lots of fun when you get to know him.”

“I see.” Andi was curious. Harry wasn’t like any other man she’d met before. But then, she’d never lived anywhere like Coffin Cove either.

“Look over there, the sharks have started circling already.” Hephzibah nodded towards a blonde florid-faced man sat in an armchair at the back of the café. He was sipping tea from a cup and saucer that he perched on his knee.

He was dressed in the same fisherman’s uniform as the men outside but didn’t quite fit in, Andi thought. His hair was neatly combed, and as he bent to take another mouthful of tea, the sunlight glinted on a gold stud in his ear.

He was spotlessly clean. His canvas bib overalls were creased as though he had just unpacked them. He wore white runners and socks. His hands were soft and white, with manicured nails. Andi could see a large pinkie ring on one hand.

This was a guy, Andi thought, who wanted to look like a fisherman. But it wasn’t working.

“Who