Page 164 of Buried Too Deep

“Harry’s neighbor. They’ve been doing a courting dance since I was in college at least.”

“After your mother died,” Phin said.

Getting his meaning, Cora nodded as she dug into her breakfast. “A few years after, yes. I guess he went on with his life. I’m glad. He shouldn’t have been pining for Mama forever. Not like Mama did for my father.”

“I brought down that box of your mother’s things from the attic. The gifts from your father that she kept. I thought you might want to put them on one of the knickknack shelves in the living room, now that you know he didn’t just leave you.”

What a sweet man. “I’m still angry with him, but I suppose I won’t be forever. When I’m not, I’ll put them up where I can look at them and remember my parents.”

Phin pointed to a box on one of the other kitchen chairs. “There’s the box of photo albums you asked me to bring down.”

Cora leaned over to kiss his cheek, smiling when he blushed. “Thank you.”

“You two are making me ill,” Molly groused, but she was smiling, too. “So tell me about these pearls you found.”

“Burke took them with him last night,” Cora said. “He put them in his home safe since I don’t have one and people seem to keep breaking in.”

“We let Vincent Ray break in,” Phin said defensively.

Cora patted his hand. “I know. But I don’t have a safe and if we all leave the house unattended, someone might get in that we don’t want to let in.”

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Molly said. “What about the pearls?”

“They’re pearls,” Phin said with a shrug. “Pretty ones.”

Cora laughed. “They’re natural South Sea pearls set in a five-strand necklace with a diamond and emerald clasp and well over a hundred years old. I’m going to have them appraised and then I’ll know more.”

“Sounds like you know your pearls,” Molly commented, pushing her empty plate aside. “But I figured you would since you wear those all the time.”

Cora ran a finger over the pearls she wore. “They were my grandmother’s. She wore them every day of her life, a wedding gift from my grandfather. They’re probably worth a set of new kitchen appliances. I’ve tried to sell them a few times, but I’ve never been able to go through with it.”

“I get that,” Molly said. “Now I’m wondering what other treasure is just lying around this house.”

“You can come help me hunt for fun when all of this is over,” Cora offered.

Molly refilled their coffee cups. “I just might.”

“You and Delores,” Phin said. He gathered their plates and put them in the sink. “She was so excited about those pearls last night. Stone said she chattered about them all the way back to my house. He wants me to make a piece of furniture for their house and put a hidden compartment in it so he can hide things for her to find.”

“They are a cute couple,” Cora said. “I’m glad you’ve had them.”

Phin lifted the box of photo albums onto the table. “Me too. We’ve got some time before Harry gets here. Let’s take a crack at these albums.”

Cora sighed. “Okay.”

Phin tilted his head. “You don’t want to?”

“It’s just…seeing pictures of my parents together is hard. But I need to do it.” She pulled a stack of the albums from the box. “Some of these are newer, after my father disappeared, so I’ll look at them last.” She frowned at the album with the photo of her parents inset on the cover. They smiled indulgently at something not in camera range.

“I wonder what they’re looking at,” Molly said.

“Me. That’s what my father said, anyway. I remember sitting on his lap and looking at this album. It was his favorite, just photos of me and Mama and John Robert. ‘Just us,’ he’d say.”

“Just us?” Phin asked.

Just us. She’d nearly forgotten the words her father had said so often. “This house is a Winslow house. It’s filled with portraits and furniture and things that are Winslow things. My father loved this album because it was just us. Me and Mama and John Robert. No Winslows. He used to say that. ‘Just us. No Winslows.’ ”

“He didn’t like being part of the family?” Phin asked.

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