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said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Brenda nodded and held her hand up to wave. “Sure, I will.”

But as she watched Harry climb into the aircraft, smiling and laughing with the pilot, she knew it was time to let the past go forever.

Chapter Forty-One

Harry drove. Jim sat beside him in the passenger seat. Neither of them said much, and Andi let her mind drift a little as the truck left the tarmac road and turned onto the gravel track that led up to the McIntosh house. As they climbed higher, the trees thinned out and Andi saw the view of the town and the ocean that had drawn Joe to build his house far up here on a rocky outcrop.

In the soft light that transitions day to night, Andi looked down on the lights of Coffin Cove. It looked so peaceful, she thought. Idyllic, almost. It was calm in the cove. The ocean stretched out like dark velvet, with just the occasional flash of light from a can buoy, warning vessels to keep clear of shallow waters.

Andi had submitted her first article to print. Terry sent pictures, including one of the startled, half-blinded Hilstead. Andi checked with Inspector Vega before publishing. She didn’t want to compromise the police investigation, which was now officially a manhunt.

Vega thanked her for her cooperation and promised an exclusive when the time came.

Andi wondered if she should have given Vega a heads-up about their new suspicions about Brian McIntosh. But right now, she reasoned, they knew nothing. They just had a tiny silver necklace and Sue’s grief-stricken theories. It wasn’t even a story yet.

She gazed down at Coffin Cove. At night-time the shadows hid the dilapidated buildings and potholed streets. For a town where everyone knew everyone else’s business, Andi thought, it kept its darkest secrets well.

Would she stay? She didn’t know. Jim had been skirting around this question, probably wanting to ask, but not sure how. The Gazette had increased circulation a little, and was attracting new advertising — even businesses from Nanaimo were buying space — but the newspaper was far from being a viable business. Jim was paying Andi out of his own pocket, Andi suspected. She could probably get hired by one of the big media companies now, maybe on the East Coast.

She sighed. Focus on one story at a time, she thought. Worry about the future later.

“What’s up?” Jim asked from the front seat.

“Just thinking about when I first got here,” Andi said truthfully. “I thought I’d be spending the rest of my career reporting on community bake sales.”

Jim said nothing, but Andi imagined his smile.

“OK, we’re here,” Harry said gruffly. He parked the truck in the driveway, and a motion light illuminated the yard. Andi could see a hunched figure sitting on the deck, a thin plume of smoke rising from a cigarette.

Harry twisted round in his seat to face Andi.

“He’s in bad shape, Andi. I don’t know if he’ll be sober. If he gets really agitated, we might have to leave it, OK?”

Andi nodded.

The three of them got out of the truck, and Harry led them up the steps to the deck.

“Harry? Is that you?” Andi heard a woman’s voice coming from inside the house. Tara, she presumed.

“Yes, it’s Harry.”

A woman with short grey hair and large glasses that framed kind blue eyes came out to the deck. “You’ve brought visitors,” she said, sounding confused. “Here, wait a minute.”

She stepped back into the house, and in a moment, the deck was flooded with light.

Andi blinked and refocused her eyes. Joe McIntosh was a shrunken, withered figure. He reminded Andi for a fleeting moment of Fred Harding, his father-in-law. But Fred had a life force, Andi decided, even if it was rage that still burned within him. This man was almost lifeless. The smell of alcohol was strong, and Andi realized that Joe was dousing the last embers of his humanity with booze. His life was over. He was just waiting for physical death to catch up with reality.

“What do you want, Harry?” Tara’s voice was anxious. “Why is Jim with you? Who is this?”

Harry introduced Andi.

“Sorry to come unannounced, Tara. But we — well Sue, actually, she found something and it might mean something . . .” Harry’s voice faltered a little, Andi noticed with surprise — she had never encountered gentleness from this man before.

“Mean something? I don’t understand. What did Sue find?” Tara demanded. “That woman’s not right in the head, Harry. You know that. I feel sorry for her, but we have enough on our plate.” She gestured to Joe. “I don’t think we can take much more, not after all this business with Mason.”

At the mention of Mason, Joe reacted for the first time. He lifted his head and stared at Harry with watery eyes.

“What did Sue find, Harry?” His voice was strong, but he sounded disinterested, almost, Andi thought, resigned to whatever news might be coming.

“This.” Jim stepped forward, opened his hand, and let the tiny silver necklace and cross spill onto the metal table next to Joe.

Joe stared at it for a moment and then turned his eyes away.

“What is it?” Tara pushed forward. “A necklace?” She picked it up and held it up to the light. “You think this is Sarah’s?” she asked incredulously, understanding now what Harry meant. “That’s crazy, Harry. There must be a thousand silver crosses out there. Sue told you she found it? Where?” she demanded. “You know that Sue thought she saw Sarah in town months after she died? She needs help, Harry, not encouragement!” Tara dropped the necklace. “Enough of this nonsense!” she almost shouted.

“Wait!” Joe said and turned in his seat to face Jim. “Where did Sue find it? What did she say?”

“Joe—” Tara stood between Joe and Jim.

“Out of the

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