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

It wasn’t entirely an exoneration, Andi thought.

“So why was Pierre in Coffin Cove?”

“Hades Fish Co. employed him to protest,” Carol said simply.

“What?” Andi was stunned. “Isn’t he . . . wasn’t he on the other side? Wasn’t he against the fishing industry?”

Carol looked at her, almost with amusement, Andi thought.

“Pierre didn’t care about sides. He cared about the environment. Our oceans, our forests, our rivers. He knew how it worked. Some so-called environmental organizations are worse than big corporations. They exist only to make money from the bleeding-hearts who don’t do their research. Or they work for competitors of certain corporations. They don’t care about the cause. They care about the profit to be made. Environmentalism is big business now.”

“So why was Pierre part of that?” Andi asked.

“Pierre worked for anyone who wanted the same result,” Carol said. “Hades wanted the herring fishery disrupted so they could drive down prices and control the fishermen. Pierre wanted to stop the fishery because the stocks are depleted. The fishery is unsustainable.”

Carol leaned across the table. “Miss Silvers, Pierre was a pragmatist. He did what he needed to do. He understood that sometimes you need to lie down with the Devil to do God’s work.”

Andi was beginning to understand.

“And Hilstead?” she asked. “Was he the Devil?”

Carol leaned back and shrugged. “I don’t know. Pierre said that Hilstead was involved in a bigger poaching operation. He was working for someone else, and Pierre thought he was being helped — or at least not hindered — by someone in the DFO.”

“Gerry Roberts?”

Carol nodded. “Pierre tried to talk to him. And so did I. I thought I could at least get something from him that would help find who killed my husband.”

“But he wouldn’t talk to you?”

“No. I guess he was afraid. And now it seems he was right to be.”

“That night, Carol, why was Pierre at the fish plant? Did he tell you anything?”

“I told all this to the police. All Pierre told me was he was meeting someone who had information about illegal poaching. Someone he knew from his past.”

She finished her coffee, then pulled two files out of her bag and handed them to Andi.

“You can have these. I didn’t give them to the police. They are Pierre’s. Everything I know is in there.”

Andi flipped through the files and looked up at Carol. “This one is marked ‘War in the Woods’. You’re saying that Pierre’s death was connected to those protests?”

Carol Morin pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’m not saying anything. But Pierre died in Coffin Cove. And his connection with that place went back to the War in the Woods.”

“Carol, I have one more question. And then you’ll never hear from me again,” Andi said quickly. It was delicate, but she needed to ask. “Sarah McIntosh. Did Pierre . . . I mean, was Pierre . . .”

“Having an affair with a little girl?” Carol finished, her voice hard. “No, Miss Silvers, he wasn’t screwing a little girl, and he didn’t kill her either.”

“So why do you think they suspected him?” Andi could sense Carol’s anger, but she pushed for an answer anyway.

“Because he was an outsider,” Carol said. “Coffin Cove doesn’t like outsiders. Even though most of the community supported the protests, they still sided against him, rather than believe that one of their own could kill that child.”

“Pierre thought someone in Coffin Cove killed Sarah?”

“It’s all in the files.” Carol Morin reached out to shake Andi’s hand. “Be careful, Miss Silvers. You are an outsider too.”

“Thank you,” Andi said. Then she pointed at the file. “Why didn’t you hand these over to IHIT?” she asked curiously.

Carol smiled for the first time. “Old habits die hard,” she said. “Pierre and I got arrested many times. He was very proud of that.”

Andi laughed. “I really appreciate it. I am so sorry about Pierre.” She meant it sincerely.

Carol’s self-control cracked for the first time. “Thank you,” she said, her voice breaking with tears.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Where’s Nikos?” Harry asked as Brenda showed him and Terry into her small living room.

Terry nodded at Brenda and dumped a briefcase on her coffee table.

“I don’t want him to know anything about this,” a tall dark-haired man said. Harry assumed he was Adrian. He had Iris’s delicate features and he was dressed in an expensive suit, far too fancy for Nikos, but there was something about his nervous energy that reminded Harry of his old boss.

“Adrian, this is Harry,” Brenda introduced them.

Adrian smiled briefly, before his expression settled back into an anxious frown.

“I remember you,” he said to Harry. “My father left me with you on your boat one day. He was supposed to be looking after me, but he was too busy.”

“That happened a lot,” Harry interrupted. “I remember. I was busy too, and pissed off at your old man, but you didn’t make a fuss. You asked me a whole bunch of questions about fishing and didn’t get in the way.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” Adrian muttered awkwardly.

Harry remembered the serious seven-year-old. They dressed him in expensive clothes then as well, too nice for a fishing boat, and the boy hung his head when Nikos left him on the wharf and drove off. Harry felt sorry for that kid back then.

He wasn’t sure about now.

Adrian looked stressed. Every so often, he brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, paced over to the living room window and stared intently at the view, as if he could find answers to his troubles in the scenery.

Harry introduced Terry.

“So this is the problem we have,” Harry started, and recounted the conversation that he, Jim and Andi had the previous night. “We don’t have any proof that Hilstead hurt you,” he said to Brenda, “and he could very well make