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

He didn’t want her to leave, Andi knew that. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. The gunshot wound was healing, but she’d had a long time to think about her future while she lay in that hospital bed.

“I can’t promise anything long-term,” Andi said to Jim when he visited, “but I’ll stay until the Gazette is on its feet. But we have to make some changes if it’s going to work.”

Jim listened to her. “I can’t make promises either,” he said. “We’re . . . well, I’m practically broke. We’ll try what you suggest and see what happens. Let’s say we give it a year. Let’s reassess where we are then. Does that work?”

“It’s a deal,” Andi said, glad to kick this decision down the road. And it was settled.

* * *

It was her last day in hospital. Andi was surprised to see Harry.

He looked uncomfortable, sitting in the small metal visitors’ chair with his arms crossed.

“Are those from that newspaper guy?” Harry asked, nodding his head at the flowers by Andi’s bedside. “Your old boyfriend?”

“No,” Andi said, and smiled at Harry. She wondered why he had come. Just to make nosy comments about her flowers and sit there looking grumpy?

“How’s your girlfriend?” Andi asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Who?” Harry said, looking startled.

“Brenda,” Andi said, “I thought you and she . . .”

“No, no . . . well, not now. Once upon a time we . . . well, that was years ago,” Harry said, stumbling over his words. “She’s leaving Steveston and moving out east to live with her sister. She’s renting out her apartment and might even sell up. Says she needs a fresh start.”

“Oh, I see,” Andi said, amused to see him so flustered. “So, did you bring me some of Hephzibah’s muffins?”

“Er, no, I . . .”

“No flowers, no muffins, why exactly are you here?” Andi said, wanting to laugh, but frowning at him.

“OK, I wanted to say something,” Harry said. He looked serious and Andi wished she hadn’t teased him.

“That night, when you got shot, you were running towards me and Hilstead, do you remember?” He leaned forward and took Andi’s hand.

She nodded slowly. “Yes, I remember.”

“What I wanted to say . . . well . . . Andi,” he looked at her, and said slowly, “that was the most unbelievably fucking stupid thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Two Months Later

“You know, there’s one thing I never did find out,” Andi said as she accepted a mug of coffee from Harry.

“Oh? What’s that?” Harry sat on his faded canvas chair and looked at Andi perched on an old upside-down fish container, her arm resting on her crutches.

He handed her one of Hephzibah’s Morning Glory muffins, still warm.

Andi accepted it. Her appetite was coming back. She was sleeping better and had stopped drinking wine. Well, not so much anyway. Her leg was healing slowly, and she’d managed to clamber onto the deck of the Pipe Dream that morning without help from Harry.

He’d been surprised to see her.

Andi had been planning the visit. She needed an answer to a question that had been niggling her for a while.

“I never found out who shot the sea lions.”

Harry took a moment before he answered.

“Maybe Mason shot them himself?” he suggested.

Andi considered for a minute.

“I guess that’s possible. He wanted to create some drama so he could whip up some outrage.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Harry replied.

“Hmm.” Andi wasn’t convinced.

They both sat for a moment in the morning sun.

“The DFO have announced a study,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “To find out if there is any evidence that the sea lions are depleting fish stocks.” He rolled his eyes. “I could have saved them the cash.”

Andi laughed and winced a bit. “I suppose that’s a start.”

“After all the publicity about Mason and Gerry Roberts, I guess they thought they’d better do something. At least they are listening to our side this time.”

Andi looked at Harry.

“You should thank that person who shot those sea lions then,” she said, her gaze steady. “In a way, he started all this.”

He turned his head to look at her.

“I suppose he did,” he said, and smiled.

THE END

Acknowledgements

This book and the Coffin Cove series would not exist without the encouragement and support of my family, especially my husband, Bob.

Thanks also to my husband and other people in the commercial fishing and forestry industries who have corrected my terminology, explained processes and generally added to the authenticity of the story. Any errors that exist are mine alone.

Author’s Note

The War in the Woods as referred to in this book is a fictional event. The real War in the Woods, also known as the Clayoquot protests, took place in 1993 on Vancouver Island.

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