Page 162 of Buried Too Deep

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 9:00 A.M.

Cora stretched, sore in all the right places. She’d been right. Phin definitely knew what he was doing in bed.

But he hadn’t stayed in her bed after his nightmare. She’d slept, but only fitfully. Every time she’d woken, he’d been sitting in the chair next to her bed, SodaPop at his feet.

He was gone now, the blanket he’d used neatly folded on the chair. She wished she could have woken with him, but she understood.

She checked her phone for any messages, hoping to see one from Tandy, but was unsurprised when there was nothing. She didn’t expect Tandy to apologize for her anger. Cora knew what her friend was feeling.

Patrick had been like a father to Cora, too, and she still didn’t believe he could have killed her father or hurt children. Not deep down.

But there were an awful lot of facts that pointed to the suspicions being true.

The pleasant buzz with which she’d woken was gone. Dammit.

She paged through her notifications. She’d missed a call from Harry late last night, right about the time they’d found the necklace, and she hadn’t been interested in her phone after that. She’d call him back after breakfast.

She also had an email from the head of the regional libraries, expressing condolences for the loss of Minnie.

Cora didn’t want think about her old boss right now. She hoped Minnie hadn’t felt any pain.

She blinked tears away, determined to think about something else. Something productive. Something to keep herself busy.

Phin was right. Keeping oneself busy helped.

She thought about Phin and some of the tightness in her chest eased, making it possible to breathe again. He was one of the good things to have come of this whole fiasco. Phin and all the people he came with—Burke and Molly, Antoine and Val. Stone and Delores.

So get busy. She opened a browser window and typed how to start a group home for homeless vets. Her eyes gravitated to a link that explained how to provide transitional housing for military veterans.

This was exactly what she needed to know. Number one: choose a property. Check. Number two: permits and licenses.

This was the paperwork phase. Chasing down permits would certainly be one way to keep herself busy.

The aroma of coffee got her attention and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She’d bookmark this website and work on it in between searching the attic and whatever else Burke had planned for the day.

She found Phin at her stove, frying eggs. SodaPop sat to one side, watching Phin work. Cora couldn’t blame the pup. She liked to watch Phin work, too.

Molly sat at the kitchen table, looking at her phone. Blue lay on his bed by the kitchen door. Having people in the house again was nice.

“Good morning,” Molly said, giving her a quick up-and-down appraisal. “You look rested.”

Cora felt her cheeks heat even though Molly hadn’t said the words with any hint of double meaning. Of course she knows. That she and Phin had kept their activities secret was too much to hope for when there were alert bodyguards in the house.

Cora went straight to the coffeepot, bumping her shoulder into Phin’s biceps. “Thank you for making breakfast.”

His smile was easy. “It won’t hold a candle to what you cooked yesterday, but it’s food.”

She was smiling up at him when her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. She checked her screen and went still. “It’s Harry.”

Phin frowned. “What does he want?”

“I won’t know if I don’t answer it.”

Molly patted the table. “Put it on speaker. We’ll be quiet.”

Cora obeyed, sitting next to Phin, who’d taken the eggs off the stove. “Good morning, Harry,” she answered.

“Cora, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’ve been worried.”

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