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

hut in one direction, but she could double back quietly and ambush him from behind. He shivered from the damp and the mist seeping through his worn-out jacket and tried to be as quiet as possible.

When he was certain Sue had left, he hobbled back to the hut, bent over with pain in his lungs and chest.

Brian saw immediately that Sue had rummaged through his belongings. How dare she touch his stuff!

He fell to his knees, pulled apart his rucksack and emptied the tin on the ground. He carefully spread the contents on the floor and saw what was missing. Now he was afraid.

He wished he had more booze. He grabbed the empty bottle, held it upside down and shook it, hoping for a few drops. Nothing.

This was getting harder. He thought about his options. Go back to Coffin Cove and steal more food and booze? It was a risk, but he might not have any other choice. He needed alcohol. He was starving.

In his panic to get away after the killing at the fish plant he hadn’t thought this through. He could see that now. He should have given himself up. What he knew must be worth something. He could have cut a deal.

Brian sat on the floor and thought for a minute.

Maybe it would be all right. Maybe it was a good thing that Sue had appeared. It gave him an idea.

Maybe it was time to make those fuckers pay. He knew stuff. He was the one with all the power. He just needed to use it.

Brian struggled to his feet. He kicked his bag and filthy rucksack out the way. He didn’t need them anymore. Not where he was going.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Adrian hadn’t slept well. He’d barely eaten anything either. After his meeting with Steve, Adrian sat in his office for two hours trying to comprehend what he’d heard. How much trouble was he in? He knew that Steve was out there, operating in the grey area of the law. Adrian admitted to himself that he’d employed him for that very reason. Steve Hilstead took risks. He was confident. Adrian worried about everything. The business was overwhelming. There was so much he didn’t know. But he’d badgered Nikos to hand over the reins. He just couldn’t fail. And Steve was helping. Or so he thought.

Adrian couldn’t remember much of yesterday’s meeting after he’d realized in horror that Steve, or someone who worked for Steve, had bashed Brenda over the head and left her in the freezer. If the supervisor hadn’t come back when he did . . . Adrian held his head in his hands, feeling close to tears again.

He had cried last night when he got home. He’d left the office in a daze and driven back to his apartment. He’d paced up and down. He’d drunk far too much whiskey and gone to bed, hoping to blot out the day, but he’d been unable to sleep.

He wished his mother was still alive.

Iris made everything better. She would have listened without judging him and figured out a way to tell Nikos, making it sound like it wasn’t Adrian’s fault.

Except everything always was his fault. And this mess was his fault too.

Why had he got mixed up with Steve? He’d met him years ago at some party, and Steve’s easy confidence and in-your-face personality had impressed him. The gangster life had always fascinated Adrian, or what he imagined that life to be. Glamorous girls, fast cars and easy cash, he’d believed, and Steve represented all of those things.

“Try this,” he’d said, dropping a tablet into Adrian’s hand. “It’s good stuff, the best — on me, man, enjoy,” and Adrian had taken the drugs, shrugging and laughing, trying to appear street savvy. Hilstead had drawn him in, just like that.

When Adrian took over Hades Fish Co., he met Steve again. He was celebrating with friends at a nightclub, and Steve just appeared. “More champagne!” Steve had said, slapping Adrian on the back, and he’d kept the booze flowing all evening. By the early morning light, Adrian had offered him a job and Steve had accepted.

It was OK at first. Steve had good ideas, encouraged Adrian to start the bistro, listened to all his big plans, and always knew someone who could help.

Then he started making suggestions.

“I have a line on some cheap salmon,” he said one afternoon.

“Oh?” Adrian said, not sure what he meant.

“It’s not strictly legal, I guess,” Steve had laughed, “but everyone does it. Just mix in the cheap fish with the other stuff, nobody will know. Look, if you’re worried, just let me take care of it.”

And Adrian did just that. He stopped asking questions. He let Hilstead run the plant. Run everything, Adrian thought now. He’d been played. Steve had zeroed in on an opportunity and taken advantage of Adrian’s weaknesses.

Adrian knew he was shallow, careless. He knew he didn’t pay attention or work hard enough. His father had told him all these things — not cruelly, but sadly. He hadn’t wanted to put Adrian in charge. But when Iris passed away, something in Nikos died too. His drive, his purpose, his fierce energy was extinguished. Adrian saw his chance and hounded Nikos until the old man gave in.

Adrian had wanted to make Nikos proud. He boasted to his father how he would build an empire, take the small company and transform it into a massive corporation. Nikos had listened to his son and patted his hand.

“I believe you, son,” he’d said. “I believe you.”

Adrian looked around at his tastefully decorated office. It was all he was good at — the image. And he’d been content to turn a blind eye to whatever Steve was up to and be the face of the business, whatever that meant. Adrian wanted to pound his fists on the desk. He’d known that