Andi couldn’t help thinking that mug of coffee hitting the floor had signified the start of some very strange events in Coffin Cove.
Andi stopped walking and took a moment to take in the view of the ocean, as her thoughts remained with Jade Thompson.
A few days after the strange meeting at Hephzibah’s, Andi interviewed Summer Thompson. Summer was Jade’s mother. She was organizing a petition against the Smoke Room. It wasn’t going anywhere. Dennis was mayor, and the planning committee had already approved the application. The only chance to get rid of the Smoke Room was if Ricky really screwed up, or quit. It was a decent story, but Andi’s real motive was to probe a little further into Jade’s strange reaction to hearing Ricky’s name.
That interview had been weird too. Andi came away with more questions than answers. Summer had presented herself as an eccentric artist, all flowing skirts and arty knick-knacks everywhere. But it felt like an act, as if Summer wanted everyone to think she was a bit flaky. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Andi was certain Summer and Jade were hiding something.
The next day, Ricky disappeared.
The local police investigated, but as Ricky was a grown man and there was no sign of a struggle or foul play, there was little they could do. Sandra Havers was distraught and persuaded a relative in the RCMP to dispatch an inspector from the mainland to re-examine the Smoke Room and try to shake out some new leads. But there had been none. Several people, Andi included, had seen the neon “OPEN” sign of the Smoke Room turned on during the day of Ricky’s disappearance. When Sandra and Dennis first looked for him, they found the sign turned off and the door unlocked. But the cash remained in the till and the inventory was untouched. It looked as though Ricky had gone out for a smoke and never come back.
One thing Summer and Jade had both revealed: neither of them liked Dennis Havers. But then, few people had a good word to say about him.
And now his own wife suspected he was involved in Ricky’s disappearance.
Andi realized she’d been gazing at the ocean for a while. She checked the time. She was still early, but the gunshot wound still hampered her walking at times, so she needed to get going if she was going to be on time for her interview with Jade.
As she turned to walk up the hill, Andi’s musings turned to the election battle between Dennis Havers and Jade Thompson.
Dennis had never had a serious opponent before, despite the fact Andi couldn’t find anyone who had a good word to say about him. “Only in it for himself” seemed to be the consensus. But he’d been elected for multiple terms. Nothing in this town was straightforward, Andi thought as she struggled up the last incline towards City Hall.
Jade’s announcement that she was running for mayor that August had come as a complete surprise to everyone. She’d quit a good job on the mainland and moved in with Summer. Andi had been astounded. She’d grilled Jade as soon as she could about her reasons.
“Coffin Cove has been in the shadow of crime and economic depression for too long,” Jade had said simply. “I want to make it a better place for people to live. People like my mother. They deserve better.”
She sounded sincere. And Coffin Cove believed her. Jade Thompson won in a landslide.
Andi arrived at City Hall a few minutes early. She waited in the visitor’s area and flicked through a glossy community magazine all about Coffin Cove. It was impressive, she supposed. The mayor and her newly formed Tourism and Economic Development Committee had been working hard. Jade Thompson had leveraged grants and private investment to develop the boardwalk and open a new museum and heritage centre. The plans included improving the marina, hoping to attract sports fishermen and charter companies, grants and tax breaks for new businesses, and some much-needed repairs to the high school. It wasn’t everything the town needed, but it was a start.
The atmosphere at City Hall was upbeat. The receptionist had greeted Andi with a wide smile. Jade had replaced some staff to fill the vacancies left by Dennis Havers’ sycophants who didn’t see their long-term future working for Mayor Thompson.
Mayor Havers had enjoyed being important. He’d surrounded himself with people who reminded him daily of his power and significance in this little town. Jade apparently didn’t need constant validation, and all her team genuinely seemed to be focused on serving the community.
Well, nearly all, Andi thought as she watched Nadine Dagg appear in the foyer and lean over the receptionist’s desk. Nadine whispered something in the receptionist’s ear, and then leaned back and gave a loud tinkling laugh. Andi couldn’t hear what she said, but the receptionist frowned and tilted her computer screen away from Nadine, not joining in the hilarity.
Andi had heard the rumours about Nadine Dagg and Dennis Havers. Their affair was an open secret. Why hadn’t Jade Thompson got rid of this woman? Her loyalty would be with her lover, not Jade. Every chance she got, Nadine would be running back to Dennis with snippets of information.
For a fleeting moment, Andi wondered if Sandra Havers wasn’t using her and the Gazette to get back at her husband. It would snowball any chance of Dennis getting re-elected, that’s for sure.
Watching Nadine, in her cheap, inappropriate clothes and heavy make-up, Andi couldn’t entirely blame Sandra for wanting to hurt her husband. Sandra might feel guilty about Ricky, but she didn’t deserve the years of humiliation heaped on her from this very public affair.
It made Andi think of her mother. She had endured much the same thing from Andi’s father — a man who loved attention, especially from younger women. When he’d made a name for himself as a writer and journalist in Ottawa, he’d celebrated his fame by having one tawdry affair after another. When Andi was old enough to understand what was going on, she asked her mother repeatedly why she didn’t leave.
“Because I love him,” she would reply, and Andi would stand back, helpless, as her mother starved herself thin, bleached her greying hair and went under the surgeon’s knife in an effort to remain young and desirable for her philandering husband.
Andi realized she was staring at Nadine and dropped her eyes to the magazine she was holding. She felt sorry for Nadine too. After all, Andi knew what it was like to be the “other woman”. Who was she to judge? God, relationships were so complicated. Better to avoid them for a while. At least until she’d got her life straightened out a bit.
“Miss Silvers?”
Andi had been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard Mayor Thompson approaching.
If Jade Thompson was surprised to see Andi instead of Jim, she didn’t show it. She welcomed Andi into her office and invited her to sit down.
She seemed relaxed and cordial, and happy to talk about the progress she’d made in the last few months.
“It’s been harder than I thought,” she admitted. “Not everyone in the community is happy with the tax dollars being spent. But I believe the new developments will boost real estate values and business revenues for everyone. And we will recoup the initial investment and loans in extra tax dollars.”
Andi was scribbling notes.
“Can you tell me about the Heritage Festival?” Andi asked. “What are you hoping to achieve?”
Andi watched Jade talk animatedly about increased tourism and community participation.
If Jade was hiding a terrible secret, Andi thought, it wasn’t hindering her dedication to Coffin Cove. She really was committed to fulfilling her campaign promises.
Andi was beginning to think she was wrong. Maybe her instincts were off. Maybe Jim was right, she needed more time to heal.
“I do have one question,” Andi said, when Jade finished talking, “about the scheduled events for the festival.”
Jade screwed up her face. “I think I know what you’re going to ask,” she said, and giggled.
For a second, Andi stared at her. It seemed out of character for this serious, almost humourless woman. But then Andi laughed with her.
“Yes, Mayor. Er . . . belly dancing?”
; Jade cringed a little. “I know, Andi. But I encouraged community participation, and I understand Nadine and her dance troop are very professional.” She said the last bit with a straight face, so Andi just nodded and made a note.
Jade’s desk phone rang. She frowned but picked it up.
“I’m in an interview . . . oh . . .”
Andi waited. Jade swung her chair round and faced away from Andi.
There was a knock at the door, and it flew open.
“Mayor!” Nadine Dagg stood gripping the doorframe. “Mayor, I have to go . . .”
Andi found herself staring at Nadine for the second time that day. Even under that thick make-up, Andi could see Nadine’s grey pallor. She seemed to have aged twenty years since Andi saw her less than thirty minutes ago. Her swagger was gone, and she clenched her hands together as she stepped forward and opened her mouth again to give the reason for her departure.
Jade Thompson clicked her phone down and didn’t wait for Nadine’s explanation.
“Of course, Nadine,” she said quietly. “I just heard. Go.”
Nadine left in a hurry, leaving the door open.
Andi looked at the mayor. She was white-faced.
“You’ll know soon enough,” she said, “so I might as well tell you. A body, that is . . .” Her voice faltered. “They’ve found human remains near Nadine’s home. Her daughter Katie found them this morning.”
“That’s terrible news, Mayor,” Andi said, horrified. But her brain was working overtime.
“Yes, it is.” Mayor Jade Thompson stood and gestured towards the door. The interview was over.
Andi was certain she and the mayor had the same question: had Nadine’s daughter found Ricky Havers?
Chapter Nine
Inspector Andrew Vega looked at his watch. Old-school, that’s what I am, he thought. Just an ordinary watch that does one thing — tells the time. Not my sleep patterns, or blood pressure, or how many steps I’ve taken today — just the plain old time of day.
He was trying to simplify his life, and one thing he’d have loved to do was disconnect from the damn internet.
Vega hadn’t slept well the night before and he was irritable. His eyes felt gritty. He knew his mind was wandering away from his work and he tried to force himself to focus.
How much information does one man need? he thought, annoyed again as his smartphone buzzed with a new notification.
He gazed at the files piled on his desk and avoided looking at his computer screen. He knew how many emails were in his inbox. Most of them were marked “urgent”. So many that the designation was meaningless to him now.
So much of his job was form-filling. Statistics, reports, targets. He sighed. He knew the importance of data — he was a man who believed in the power of science — but some of the forms he was required to fill in every month seemed trivial.
He knew that he was procrastinating, and he needed to get on. He didn’t have much time before the meeting with his boss. But instead of tackling his pile of overdue tasks, he pushed back his chair and went in search of coffee.
Then perhaps he would be able to make progress.
As Vega stood by the microwave waiting for a sludgy cup of old coffee to heat up, he thought about the meeting Superintendent Sinclair had called for this morning, just before he left the office the night before. It must be something important. Their weekly meeting was scheduled in a few days’ time.
He’d arrived at E Division a little after 6 a.m., just as the sun was high enough to reflect off the building’s tinted windows and early enough for the bullpen in his department to be deserted. He’d settled behind his desk, hoping to make the most of an early start. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day for Inspector Vega, one of the youngest inspectors seconded to IHIT, the specialist Integrated Homicide Investigation Team. IHIT investigated British Columbia’s worst crimes. Its motto was Justice for Those Who Have Died Unfairly. Vega led seven investigative units comprised of the best and the brightest officers he had ever worked with. Usually his job was desk-bound, which he hated, but because of cutbacks, he was now working two roles — heading up one investigation team and supervising the rest. He loved being back in the field, but often felt overwhelmed by the extra load.
Vega checked his watch again and drained the last of the terrible coffee. He went back to his desk and made a concerted effort to clear up the boring administrative tasks he’d been ignoring for days.
Finally, he shuffled the last of his paperwork into a neat pile and headed to Superintendent Sinclair’s office on the top floor.
His meetings with Sinclair were usually updates on the cases he and his team were working. She expected her staff to be concise — able and prepared to answer all her questions.
Andrew Vega was always prepared.
He liked Sinclair. She was direct. Spoke her mind. She was a shrewd politician when she needed to be, but not at the expense of the RCMP members under her command.
Their meetings were always brief. Sinclair didn’t waste time with small talk. Not usually, anyway. They always worked through the list of investigations, Vega explaining the status and continuing lines of enquiry and Sinclair listening, taking notes and interrupting occasionally with a question.
When Vega entered her office, he was surprised to find her standing at the window with her back to her desk. After greeting him and gesturing for him to sit down, she was quiet and seemed lost in thought for a few moments.
Vega was surprised when Sinclair rested her elbows on her desk, leaned forward and asked Vega if he enjoyed his work.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered without hesitation. He loved his job. But where was this conversation going?
For a few minutes more, Superintendent Sinclair probed Andrew Vega about his career history before RCMP E Division and his promotion to inspector in IHIT.
Vega wondered why they were having this conversation. It was all in his personnel file. On paper, it looked like he was lacking ambition, he knew that. He’d taken a few sideways moves instead of promotions because the opportunities looked interesting. He’d even spent two years in Singapore on secondment with Interpol.
Many of his colleagues were constantly looking for the next leg up the career ladder, but Vega had never been motivated by that. It might be different, he often thought, if he had a family. Then the pay grade would be more important. But until then, he assessed every career move by two criteria: did it look interesting and could he make a difference?
Maybe Sinclair was looking for a successor? Vega knew he didn’t want her job, spending most of the day pushing paper around a desk and bending to the political will of the higher ranks. More likely, she was watching over her shoulder. There were some police officers who disliked reporting to a woman.
Not Vega. He knew that Sinclair must have worked twice as hard as her male counterparts to have the RCMP superintendent insignia on her shoulder. Vega thought it ridiculous that some men felt insecure about that. But Vega had grown up in an all-female household and was used to strong women.
He answered Sinclair’s questions and figured that she would reveal her reason for this gentle interrogation soon enough.
He was wrong.
Instead, Sharon Sinclair sat silently after Vega answered her questions. Her brow was furrowed, and Vega thought she looked like she was struggling with a decision. For a moment, he wondered if he was in trouble.
But then she seemed to gather her thoughts and she smiled at Vega.
“Very good, Inspector,” she said, “I have an assignment for you,” and she handed Vega a file. “You remember the missing person incident from last year?”
Vega nodded and frowned. “Yes, ma’am, I do. The mayor’s missing son.” His derision was palpable.
Vega was still irritated at being dispatched to Coffin Cove to help the local detachment with a missing person’s enquiry. The local cops were perfectly capable of dealing with the incident. It was purely a PR exercise, thanks to Dennis Havers�
� string-pulling, and a complete waste of his time.
“This came across my desk yesterday,” Sinclair said, gesturing to the file. “The decomposed body of a male was discovered yesterday in a derelict chapel in Coffin Cove. Forensics are out there now with the coroner, but as yet we don’t have an ID on the body, and we don’t know if it’s a homicide.” She paused and looked at Vega. “But a preliminary report suggests the body has been there for a while. They’ve recovered several items which fit with the description of Ricky’s clothing.”
“A derelict church?” Vega asked. He didn’t recall any buildings like that, and the search teams had done a thorough examination of the area. Supposedly.
“Apparently, it’s hidden in dense woodland, and it’s on private land. The local historical society were on a field trip or something and one of them found the body.”
“Ah, nasty.” Vega pulled a face.
“Yes, and although the local guys asked them to keep it all quiet . . . well, it seems the local gossip factory has been working overtime, hence a call to my office. And now you’re here.”
Shit rolls downhill, Vega thought, but kept his face expressionless.
“Should we get a team out there, ma’am?” he asked.
“I’d like you to go first, Andrew,” she said.
Vega was surprised. Superintendent Sinclair rarely dropped formalities and used his first name. Before he could answer, she asked another question.
“You’re familiar with Coffin Cove, right?”
He nodded. Apart from the visit to follow up on Ricky Havers’ disappearance, Vega had led a team investigating the murder of a controversial environmentalist. The investigation was complex and was eventually linked to two other murders — one of them a cold case from decades ago. Although two arrests were made, and the results considered a success, a journalist had been shot and seriously wounded. Vega had warned her about interfering with the investigation, but like all journalists, she considered it her God-given right to ferret around in things that didn’t concern her. “Uncovering the truth,” she’d called it. “Taking unnecessary risks,” he’d told her.
HELL'S HALF ACRE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 2) Page 8
