Page 108 of Buried Too Deep

“That,” Burke said, “is a damn good question. Detective?”

“I have no idea.” Clancy sighed. “People keep guns all the time, though. I can’t tell you how many times I see it. You’d think they’d toss them in the river, but so many don’t.”

“Did Medford Hughes’s neighbors hear the shot?” Cora asked.

“No, ma’am,” Clancy said. “I think the killer used a silencer, but it was gone from the scene.”

A cold shiver ran down Cora’s spine. “Because he plans to use it again.”

Phin’s jaw tightened. “Not on you. We won’t let him.”

She believed him, offering him what felt like a shaky smile. “Thank you.”

She wondered if Burke and the others would tell the detective about the eraser business, but no one did, so she followed their lead and kept her mouth shut.

“Did you find Hughes’s computer?” Phin asked. “He had our laptops in the back seat of his car. Where were his? He was an IT guy. He had to have had at least one computer. Maybe you can figure out what his motive was in all this.”

Clancy looked impressed. “He didn’t have one in his car and we didn’t find one in his house, either, which strikes me as odd.”

Phin nodded. “Maybe his killer took it. What about the white van the neighbors saw parked outside Hughes’s house? Have you tracked it? We need to know where it is.”

Clancy sighed. “We tracked it for a while, then lost it. It shouldn’t be hard to identify. It’s missing half its front bumper on the right side.”

“The killer had an accident?” Cora asked.

Clancy nodded, looking even more tired. “We found footage of the van on a Jackson Avenue street cam. It had drifted into oncoming traffic then veered back into its lane, hitting a parked car and driving away. The old Chevy it had been approaching head-on wasn’t so lucky. The Chevy’s driver must’ve panicked and wrenched the wheel because it lost control, went through an intersection on a red light and crashed into a bus. The driver of the bus walked away, but the four college kids in the Chevy didn’t.”

There was silence around the table. “Oh my Lord,” Cora finally whispered, horrified. “He killed four more people and didn’t even look back?”

“He did not,” Clancy said gravely. “We want to catch him. Badly. So now it’s your turn to help me.”

15

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 15, 9:05 A.M.

DETECTIVE CLANCY CRADLED HIS CUP of coffee in his hands. “Clearly this has something to do with Miss Winslow, given that someone’s broken into her house several times now. Also, that someone broke into your offices, Burke, and stole two of your laptops, shooting Joy Thomas in the process and chasing Miss Winslow through the Quarter. And that the gun that killed Jack Elliot ended up in Medford Hughes’s dead hand. And that some two-bit thug who still won’t tell me his name broke into this house last night intending to burn it down. And, finally, that you all are here and brainstorming. I don’t expect you’re here for the biscuits and gravy, even though they’re amazing.” He pointed to the easel against the wall. “I’m betting that there’s a whiteboard around here somewhere with your notes all over it. Captain Holmes has told me about how y’all work,” he finished with a drawl. “So…what in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is going on here?”

Cora froze, waiting for someone at the table to speak, but everyone was looking at her. Like this was her choice. She glanced at Phin, who was watching Clancy carefully.

“Do you trust him?” she asked Phin quietly.

Phin nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“He’s never given us a reason not to,” Burke added. “Although lots of others hadn’t given us reasons not to trust them until they did. It’s up to you.”

“At least I know it’s going to be good,” Clancy said. “Look, Miss Winslow, I know that you all have been searching your attic for the past two evenings, well into the night.” He took a sip of coffee when Cora turned her surprised stare on him. “I put an unmarked car at the end of your street after you came to see me on Tuesday morning. After you fled for your life from whoever shot Joy Thomas. I apologize that whoever took your statement after the break-ins didn’t treat the situation with the urgency it deserved. Had I known, I would have at least ordered drive-bys. Once I’d talked to you, I did put surveillance on your house. Last night it was me.”

“I wondered how you’d gotten here so fast,” Stone observed. “You walked in with the uniforms who responded to the 911.”

Cora had to process that. “Wait. You were here, at the end of my street, for two days? You said that I couldn’t have protection.”

“It wasn’t protection. It was surveillance. And I was only here last night. I had someone else here during the day and the night before. After my guys told me that you all had been searching the attic Tuesday night, I decided it was worth my time to check it out.”

Cora turned to Antoine. “And we didn’t know he was there? Our cameras didn’t pick him up?”

Antoine looked embarrassed, as well he should, Cora thought, irritated. “There were no lurkers within our camera range,” Antoine said. “How far down were you? I’ll get wider-angled lenses on the property, stat.”

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