Page 66 of Buried Too Deep

“It might be a heating element. Not as expensive as you think.”

She brightened. “Will you show me how to fix it?”

“Absolutely. Stay with Val today, okay? She’s fierce.”

“I promise.” She hesitated, then briefly squeezed his forearm. “I’m glad she’s your friend. You need support.”

“Only my friend,” he reiterated.

She grinned. “Got it. See you later. Can you check on Blue every so often? He’s asleep at the back door.”

“Of course. Wait. Where are you going?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you going to work?”

Cora sighed. “No. Well, yes, but only to get my library laptop. I already had this argument with Molly and Val. ‘It’s too dangerous to go to the library, Cora,’ ” she singsonged. “ ‘Think of the people who could be hurt if someone came after you, Cora.’ So I’m going to get my laptop so that I can work from home.”

“It was a compromise,” Val said dryly, closing the front door after seeing Patrick out. “Molly and I weren’t happy with it, either, but Cora does have to earn a paycheck.”

He didn’t like the idea of her leaving the house, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as she gathered her purse and followed Val out to her car. He knew Val would keep her safe. He also knew that Val would be calling Burke immediately to inform him about the van.

The driver of a white van had murdered Medford Hughes and his wife last night. Assuming it was the same person—and they had to assume so as to best protect Cora—the intruder would not get their hands on Cora Winslow.

Phin walked into the kitchen and carefully set his toolbox on the marble countertop. He wasn’t ready to bodyguard again but he had to do something.

He sent a text to Burke. You heard about the van at Cora’s on Friday?

Burke’s reply was instant. Val just called me. Not a good development.

Phin hesitated, then pushed forward. I can ask neighbors for camera footage.

There was a slight pause, the ellipsis indicating that Burke was typing. Stopping. Typing. Stopping. Finally, the reply came through.

Let’s do it together. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.

Phin could live with that. At least Burke was letting him be involved. I’ll be waiting.

Until then, he’d work on the windows.

He swallowed a groan. So many windows. Where should he even start?

But the answer was obvious.

In Cora’s bedroom. So she could sleep tonight.

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 7:45 A.M.

Having been using her Bluetooth so that she could drive, Val ended the call with Burke and glanced over at Cora. “You okay?”

“No,” Cora said honestly. “I didn’t know the white van was at the dead man’s house last night until you told Burke just now.”

These people—whoever they were—were killers. But hearing that the same vehicle had been at the scene of the brutal shooting of that man in his car made everything real, and she was terrified.

“It might not have been the same van,” Val said.

“But you think it was,” Cora said.

“Possibly. Either way, we will keep you safe.”

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