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said, “You’re right, son. The things those crime scene guys can find out, it’s amazing,” and he seemed to cheer up a little as he and Matt taped off the scene and waited for the coroner and backup from Nanaimo.

Soon after the coroner began her work, she appeared, looking grim, and made a call to the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team stationed on the mainland. She didn’t know yet if it was a homicide, but it was more than possible the remains were Ricky Havers’, although more work would need to be done before final confirmation. As the case of the missing man was already flagged as something IHIT had an interest in, she explained, she was calling in a team from the mainland.

Matt was in awe. IHIT was legendary. Only the most talented officers joined this specialized unit. They’d created IHIT back in 2004, after a catalogue of failures allowed a notorious serial killer to evade the RCMP long enough to murder over twenty women. After that, the RCMP made sure IHIT had access to limitless expertise and resources to investigate the worst crimes in British Columbia and bring the perpetrators to justice.

They didn’t take long to arrive. Ahead of the IHIT team arriving in Coffin Cove, Inspector Andrew Vega had joined the coroner at the scene earlier today, just twenty-four hours after the remains had been discovered. The forensics team were hard at work. It was clear to Matt that Inspector Vega was a man used to being in charge, as he quickly assessed the situation and assigned Matt to guard the trail leading to the scene of the discovery. The coroner would continue working with forensics, and when (and if) she deemed the death a homicide, the rest of the IHIT team would arrive and set up base for the investigation at the Coffin Cove detachment. Vega was quiet but had an air of authority which made even Charlie draw himself to attention when taking directions from this polite man.

For the entire day, the scene was invaded by ghostly figures in white suits, gliding around, examining, bagging and labelling the smallest items from the scene, anything that might help the investigating officers determine without doubt that this poor dead soul was indeed Ricky Havers, and the precise nature of his death.

Confirmation came later that evening. There was no doubt. It was definitely Ricky Havers, and Matt was now working his first homicide case.

Matt listened as Inspector Vega informed local officers. The mood was sombre.

“Forensics will continue at the site for another night, at least,” Vega said. “I will inform the family after this meeting. We will make a public announcement to the press tomorrow morning. There is nothing more we can do tonight, so please go home. Tomorrow my full team will arrive. Get some sleep because it will be a long day tomorrow. And—” his voice sharpened — “I shouldn’t have to tell any of you: do not divulge any information to anyone, got it?”

There were nods and murmurs from the listening men and women as they dispersed, leaving PC Matt Beaufort to lock and alarm the detachment.

A tragic day for the Haverses, he thought, as he remembered the distraught mother from earlier. He watched Charlie Rollins walk away from the detachment. He had a dejected air about him and almost shuffled along. Charlie had hardly said a word since they left the gravel pit. Matt had seen him talking urgently into his cell phone just before the briefing, but Charlie wouldn’t even meet Matt’s eyes. He didn’t even say goodnight as he left.

Matt felt sorry for Charlie. His days were numbered, Matt was sure. But he was at the beginning of his career. And tomorrow would be the start of some proper police work, he thought as he backed out the parking lot and drove home.

Chapter Thirteen

Inspector Vega arrived at the Wilson Motel after ten. He’d made time earlier in the day to collect a key from Peggy Wilson, who greeted him like an old friend.

“Welcome back to Coffin Cove, Inspector. Sorry it’s in such sad circumstances,” she said, fishing for information.

Vega didn’t bother to point out most people only met him in tragic circumstances. It went with the job.

Now, Vega sat on the bed in his small room. He wanted a shower but didn’t have the energy.

It seemed a lifetime ago he’d boarded the floatplane.

The forensics team had taken several hours to conclude the remains were likely those of Ricky Havers. They had found a belt buckle and scraps of fabric which matched the description Sandra had given them when Ricky disappeared. It would take days for DNA testing to confirm Ricky’s identity conclusively, but Vega felt he had enough information to speak to Sandra and Dennis Havers.

After the briefing, he went to the Haverses’ home. Joanna, their housekeeper, let him in. She was red-eyed and subdued. Despite Vega’s efforts to keep a lid on all information flowing around the town, he was sure Dennis and Sandra had surmised the bad news. Joanna led him into the living room. It was dark, and Coffin Cove’s night lights twinkled through the magnificent picture window.

Vega had thought about all the families in Coffin Cove that night. Some of them slumped in front of the TV or shouting at their kids. Getting ready for work the next day or eating a late meal. Normal people doing normal things. But there, in that room, it had been Vega’s job to take away any hope of these two people being “normal” anymore.

Logically, it wasn’t him who’d ruined their lives. It was the person who’d killed their son. But Vega knew from experience it would be him who endured their initial grief and anger.

The meeting was harrowing. Sandra Havers had obviously tried to pull herself together since their previous encounter. She’d put on some make-up and changed her blouse. She

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