HELL'S HALF ACRE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 2), JACKIE ELLIOTT [best ereader for graphic novels .TXT] 📗

“Well, my friend, I didn’t know you had all this knowledge, but it’s paying off now,” Walter grinned. “Must be easier than fishing.”

“You’re right about that. And now I can share my wisdom with the rest of the world, thanks to Katie Dagg.” Harry smiled back and drained his coffee mug.

Walter shook his head. Cheryl was right. It was time the women ran things around here. He couldn’t help poking fun at his friend a little more. “You’ll be famous,” he said. “Maybe your friend Andi will interview you for the Gazette.”

Andi Silvers was the reporter for the local paper. She had investigated the murder at the fish plant and managed to uncover all kinds of secrets previously buried in the murky history of Coffin Cove. It had been fascinating, and for a while, the Fat Chicken had seen an uptick in business as Coffin Cove experienced its first influx of “murder tourists”. Harry had helped Andi with the investigation somehow. He’d been tight-lipped about it, but Walter knew Harry well enough. He was quite taken with Andi Silvers.

Harry didn’t bite. “I’ll be a legend,” he said comfortably. “Anyway, I’ve got to get on.” Harry got up and picked up his empty coffee cup to take inside to Hephzibah. “And I nearly forgot, when’s that belly dancing night at your place?”

Walter’s head shot up, looking to see if Harry was teasing him back, but the man looked serious. “Friday night. Why? You thinking of coming?”

Harry shrugged. “Sure, why not? Somethin’ different. Anyway, see ya later.”

Walter watched as he handed his mug to Hephzibah and left the café. He laughed to himself. His old friend wasn’t fooling anyone. Harry knew Andi would be there. And Walter was sure there would soon be an article about Harry’s smuggling tours in the Coffin Cove Gazette.

Wonders would never cease. Harry hadn’t been romantically involved with anyone for years. Walter thought he and Andi would make a good couple. Sure, Harry was older than Andi, but that didn’t matter these days. Both of them needed to settle down, he thought. It was time Andi moved out of the apartment and got herself a permanent place . . . Ah! Walter slapped the table. Rent! Andi hadn’t paid her rent yet. Well, that would cover a couple of bills.

Bruno barked, interrupting his thoughts, and Walter stood up too. Time to get back to the Fat Chicken. Maybe he should be more enthusiastic about this Heritage Festival. Maybe a half-naked Nadine Dagg would turn the business around. He laughed to himself and felt optimistic. And if things were really looking up in Coffin Cove, maybe he would pull out those old plans for a patio and . . . Walter bumped into a man coming out of the café. He was several inches taller, and Walter had barrelled into his chest, preoccupied with his thoughts. Walter stood back, embarrassed, and apologized. He saw the man was dressed in an expensive sports jacket and crease-free chinos. His fashionable haircut was greying at the temples. He looked like a businessman from the mainland, Walter thought, and wondered if he was the type of person the new mayor was hoping to attract to Coffin Cove. This guy looked like he had money. The man was looking Walter up and down, with a curious expression on his face. Walter was aware of his unshaven appearance and beer-stained T-shirt he’d grabbed off the floor this morning.

“No worries,” the man said eventually, moving around Walter and leaving the café. A waft of expensive aftershave lingered.

Walter saw Hephzibah staring after the man.

“See something you like?” he asked, winking.

“Oh, no, it’s not that,” Hephzibah smiled. “Although he looked a little more . . . well, businesslike, than my usual customers,” she said diplomatically. “No, it’s just that I’m sure I know him from somewhere. But I can’t think where.”

Walter looked out the door at the man’s tall figure striding down the boardwalk. There was something familiar about him.

An old memory surfaced briefly in Walter’s mind but was gone before he could grasp it.

“Sorry, Hep,” he said, “can’t help you. Anyway, got to get back to the grind.”

Walter hurried back, hoping to catch Andi and collect her rent payment before she left for work.

Chapter Three

Andi Silvers woke with a start.

In her dream, she was hanging on with all her might to a narrow ledge. Her fingertips were sore. Her arms ached and she was screaming for help. But because it was a dream, no sound was coming out of her mouth, and her only option was to cling on until her muscles were too tired to hold on any longer and she let go.

Nausea overcame Andi as she clawed her way back into consciousness, just as she had been about to plunge into the murky fathoms of her dream hell. She had to lie still until the feeling subsided and her mind cleared from the fog. Her arms and hands throbbed. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. The dream had seemed real enough for her to grip her pillow in fear. Her bedsheets were damp with sweat.

“This is normal,” she whispered to herself. The counsellor had warned her. The dreams were a mechanism the brain used to clear and reset the unconscious mind. Eventually they would pass into nothing, but occasionally a nightmare might be triggered by something in her subconscious, and she would be tormented again.

It had all sounded like bullshit to Andi. But she had to admit, the bad dreams did come less often these days. But she wished they would go away for good.

Jim, her boss, had recommended the counsellor. Not so much recommended, Andi remembered, as insisted. He’d made it part of the conditions of her return to work as a journalist and assistant editor at the Coffin Cove Gazette.

Andi had argued, of