Page 144 of Buried Too Deep

The reverend hesitated once again. “Do you know what the dark web is, Sara?”

Dread took over the woman’s expression. “Yes. Please, Reverend Beauchamp, just tell me.”

Yeah, Phin thought, irritated. Just spit it out, man.

Sara pursed her lips when the reverend continued to say nothing. “He was murdered, Reverend. I’ve already told you that. How much worse can it get?”

Ah, so Clancy did tell her that much.

“He was into…children,” Beauchamp said reluctantly.

Phin stared. He really had not been expecting that.

Cora looked horrified, and she wasn’t alone. Val and Burke wore expressions of mixed horror and rage. Phin knew that Burke had dealt with those types when he was with the NOPD and still bore the emotional scars.

“Children?” Sara whispered.

“Yes,” Beauchamp said. “Teenagers, actually. I thought Medford had committed suicide. That’s what the news said. I thought maybe he’d become disgusted enough with himself to take his own life. But when you told me that he was murdered, well, that changes things. If he was killed by one of his associates…” He shook his head. “I don’t want any harm to come to you, Sara.”

Sara’s hand was pressed tightly to her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Medford abused children? Medford? I can’t believe that.”

Phin couldn’t blame her. It was a horrific crime, but it happened. He’d worked for Burke long enough to have seen a few investigations into child abuse situations.

Beauchamp’s expression was full of sorrow. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.”

Phin’s temper boiled up when the reverend’s words completely sank in. “Wait. You knew?” he asked, hearing the censure in his own voice and not giving a damn. “You knew Hughes was a pedophile and you didn’t turn him in?”

Beauchamp closed his eyes, misery radiating off him in palpable waves. “He never admitted it to me. Someone else did. The victim is getting counseling and has chosen not to press charges.”

“You’re a mandatory reporter,” Val said quietly, but her words were cold. “Your clergy-penitent privilege doesn’t apply here.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beauchamp snapped. “When I first was brought in, the child’s parents had already reported the abuse to the authorities. The child was in counseling but would not disclose who had abused him. All he would say was that there were pictures. Online. He’s thirteen. It’s—” His voice broke. “It’s hideous.”

Cora leaned in and rested her hand on the minister’s. He jumped at the touch but then settled. “Reverend Beauchamp,” she said softly. “That must have been a terrible thing to have to hear.”

“It was.” Beauchamp cleared his throat. “You want to help, you want to scream, you want to do things to the perpetrator that are not Christian. In the end, all you can do is provide comfort and counseling and pray for God’s justice. I did get the child’s parents into counseling, too. They had a lot of guilt.”

“I imagine so,” Cora murmured. “When did you know that Hughes was the perpetrator?”

Phin wasn’t sure how she was being so calm. Phin was glad he’d brought SodaPop with him. He hadn’t expected this interview to become so gut-wrenchingly awful.

“Today. The mother of the victim contacted me, asked me if she was sinning by being glad that Medford had killed himself. She never said why, but she didn’t have to. I was…stunned. Simply stunned. I knew that Medford did some shady work on the side, but it was more like reconditioning stolen laptops—and that was only a guess. I never knew for sure.”

“How did you guess that?” Cora asked.

“I’d forget my password sometimes and he’d fix it for me. I only used a few combinations of words and numbers, so he just…I don’t know. He had this software he used. He’d get the right password more quickly than I could, leaving me time to do my actual work. Once he muttered that I was his only legit client. I asked him what he meant but he said he was only kidding. So I had nothing of real value to report to anyone. But if Medford was killed for what he had on his laptop, his killer could have been one of any number of people.”

Cora digested this. “How would Medford have gotten his hands on Mr. Broussard’s laptops?”

Beauchamp shook his head. “I have no idea. I wish I did know, but I don’t. Maybe he stole them. Or, like I’ve said, he consorted with shady people.”

Cora patted the man’s hand and leaned back into her chair. “Thank you, sir.”

“Can you assign someone to protect Sara?” Beauchamp asked, looking from Burke to Val to Phin. “I don’t want anything to happen to her because someone after Medford thinks she knows something.”

Burke nodded. “I’ll find someone.”

Sara shook her head. “No, thank you. I can’t pay you for that.”

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