Page 187 of Buried Too Deep

Ponchatoula, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 5:50 P.M.

“You should wake her up,” Val told Phin from the driver’s seat. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“I know.” But Phin hated to wake Cora. She’d been sleeping so peacefully in the back seat of the company SUV, her head on his thigh. He ran his fingers through her hair before giving her shoulder a gentle shake.

“Cora, honey, wake up,” he said quietly. “We’re almost there.”

She’d slept so soundly, not even Phin’s phone calls to Stone or Val’s to Antoine had disturbed her. She slowly blinked awake, staring at him for a moment before her vision seemed to focus.

“Almost where?” she asked sleepily, and Phin wished they were in her bed. He loved sleepy Cora.

“The Glendale Psychiatric Hospital,” he said, and her eyes blinked wide open.

“What?” She sat up, her hair falling in her face. “Why?”

Phin brushed her hair back. “Antoine found the police report from Jennifer Beauchamp’s drug overdose. He asked André to contact the cop who’d filed the report. The guy is retired now but remembered that Jennifer was admitted to Glendale. Stone and Antoine did some more digging and found out that she never left.”

Cora’s mouth bent in a sad frown. “She’s been there for twenty-three years?”

“Seems like,” Phin said. “And I called one of my old army contacts to track down the middle brother’s military record. Guess when Walton Beauchamp enlisted?”

Cora sighed. “Twenty-three years ago?”

“Bingo,” Phin said. “Six months before Ashley’s birthdate. He was only seventeen, so he needed parental permission to join. It was an odd arrangement. He dropped out of high school, got his GED, then joined up. There was no waiting period. He entered boot camp the following week.”

“They got rid of him,” Cora said. “That’s one way to keep him from his sister. Unless it was the older brother?”

“It’s possible,” Phin allowed. “That brother was Sage’s father. He was married at the time and living in Mobile. He and his wife divorced—guess when?”

“Twenty-three years ago,” Cora said wearily.

“Yep. I found the record of the divorce decree—irreconcilable differences—and the timing was just too convenient. It’s possible that she found out that her husband had fathered the child. We may not be allowed to see Jennifer. But we can try. Best case we find out who fathered her child and if she surrendered her child willingly. That’s something we can give to Detective Clancy. If the Caulfields did participate in an illegal adoption, it’s unlikely that they’ll be prosecuted because the statute of limitations ran out long ago. They’re the best case to present to the police because their adoption of Ashley is directly linked to your father’s death. You wouldn’t have to reveal any of his other clients like Alice VanPatten.”

Val’s GPS directed her to turn into the psychiatric hospital and Phin’s gut tightened. It looked like the VA hospital he’d spent too much time in.

Cora noticed his sudden stress. So did SodaPop. The dog shoved her muzzle into his hand. Cora cupped his face in her palms.

“You don’t have to go inside. Val can go in with me.”

Val parked the car, saying nothing. It would be Phin’s choice.

“I’ll go in. If I have to leave, I know where the SUV is parked. I don’t want you to do this alone.”

Cora pulled his head down and kissed him. “Thank you.”

He kissed her back, losing himself in the moment until Val cleared her throat. “Guys, please.”

Phin rolled his eyes. “Like you and Kaj didn’t do this all the time.”

“And you said, ‘Guys, please,’ ” Val shot back.

Phin didn’t remember that happening, but he wasn’t going to argue. “Let me walk SodaPop. She’s been cooped up most of the day.”

“She’s probably hungry and thirsty, too,” Cora said as she slid out of the SUV behind him.

“I fed and watered her while you were sleeping.” He took SodaPop to a patch of grass. “Potty time.”

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