COFFIN COVE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 1)

to give away her ignorance.
“Also, local bands — local First Nations,” Jim corrected himself, “they got caught up in the protest because their traditional territories were being logged, and they weren’t getting compensated. Also, the clear-cutting was affecting the water supply. When the water contamination spread into the river and then the main reservoir that supplies the town, the city council was inundated with complaints.” Jim looked at Andi. “You have to bear in mind that back then, the entire local economy was built on the resources industry. There wasn’t one family in town who didn’t have some income coming directly from fishing or logging. And every small business depended on those families spending that money. So it was unprecedented when one of the biggest logging companies, McIntosh & Co, agreed to change their logging practices and clean up the pollution.”
Jim stopped to take a gulp of his coffee.
“What about the First Nation claims?” Andi asked.
“I’m coming to that. Joe McIntosh was forward-thinking. He could see that the future of logging was in decline. The environmental lobby had a louder voice, and indigenous land claims were being taken seriously. Joe figured that his company and the industry in general would have a longer lifespan if they adapted.”
“Sounds like a smart guy,” Andi commented. “So why the war?”
“It started much like today,” Jim said. “A few protestors showed up, stirred up a bit of trouble, nothing significant to start with. Joe headed up a committee and involved the band elders, local environmentalists, the union, and they hashed out a plan. Everyone was happy, or so Joe thought. Then one day, one of his crews came in to work and found that someone had sabotaged their machinery — and worse than that, they spiked trees.”
“What’s that?” Andi asked.
“The protestors had driven spikes or long nails into the trees. The logger can’t see the spike until his chainsaw hits it, and then the saw explodes. Imagine thousands of razor-sharp pieces of steel flying up in your face.”
“Holy shit,” Andi said, horrified.
“Yes,” Jim said grimly. “If the logger misses it, and the tree ends up in a sawmill — then it can be even worse when the spike is hit by a high-speed blade on a conveyer belt. Some poor kid was torn apart just like that, down in a California sawmill. It split his jaw in half. A bit more than ‘shock tactics’, don’t you think?”
“Was anyone hurt here?” Andi ignored Jim’s sarcasm.
“No, Joe shut down operations immediately. A few days later, Coffin Cove was swarming with so-called eco-terrorists, led by our friend out there.” Jim gestured towards the marina.
“So what happened?”
“Well,” Jim paused, looking down into his coffee cup, seemingly lost in memories for a moment, “it was a difficult time. Mason recruited some young people in the town, who were only too happy to hang out at blockades . . . You might have noticed, there’s not too much for teenagers to do in this town,” Jim added wryly, “and Joe kept attempting to negotiate with anyone who would listen. But the environmentalists wanted the whole show shut down, and the band wanted to take over the entire operation. And this is the weird thing—” Jim shifted forward in his chair — “Mason always seemed to be one step ahead of Joe. Every time Joe set up a meeting, Mason knew about it.”
“Someone on the inside,” Andi said. “But why all the focus on Joe’s operation? There had to have been other logging companies clear-cutting at the time?”
“Yes, but none as big as Joe’s and still privately owned.”
Andi drained her coffee. “So who was paying Mason?”
“A large American corporation, we think. But we were too late. Joe sold before we could find evidence.”
“He sold?” Andi was surprised. “Why?”
“Here’s the tragic part. And the reason it’s such a big deal that Mason’s back.”
Jim ran his finger through his hair and looked tired for a moment.
“Joe’s daughter, Sarah, went missing. Joe thought she was just acting up and hanging out at the blockades — you know what teenagers are like, anything for a bit of excitement. But she didn’t come home, so he called the police. They searched for days. But they suspected she might have been taken by the eco-terrorists.”
“What, you mean kidnapped?”
Jim nodded. “Yes, but there was no ransom demand. And then—” he paused and looked down — “her body washed up on the beach.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Andi could see Jim was getting emotional.
“Yes.” He sat up and looked Andi in the eye. “It was definitely foul play. They tied her legs and arms.”
“Oh no.”
Andi and Jim sat silent for a moment. Andi had questions but waited respectfully until Jim spoke again.
“It devastated Joe. Sarah was his only child.”
“There must have been an investigation?”
“Yes. It hit the town hard. Everyone knew Sarah, she was well liked, she lived with her mother most of the time — she and Joe split up when Sarah was little. She got on well with Joe . . .” Jim paused.
“But?” Andi prompted him.
“She didn’t like his new wife much. But that’s normal, I guess. The popular opinion was Sarah was abducted and something went wrong.”
“Abducted by the protestors? That’s pretty drastic,” Andi thought out loud.
“Not for those bastards.”
Andi was so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed someone behind her.
“Harry.” Jim gestured to a large man who had overheard Andi’s musing. “Sit down. This is Andi, the Gazette’s new reporter.”
Harry pulled up a chair. Andi could see he was a fisherman. He was wearing overalls and boots, the same as the crowd on the dock earlier. Even sitting, Harry towered over them. He looked familiar to Andi, but she couldn’t place him.
“Those bastards thought it was OK to spike trees and put loggers’ lives in danger, you reckon they’d think twice about taking