Page 175 of Buried Too Deep

Like a father.

“We can find out,” Molly said, steel in her voice. “But, Cora, Patrick is somehow involved. We can’t gloss over that fact.”

“The paint,” Cora whispered.

“The paint,” Molly repeated. “That this Timothy Caulfield was a painter who used Renaissance-era paint formulas is…Well, I suppose it’s possible. At this point, anything is possible.”

“But not likely,” Antoine said gently.

Cora swallowed hard. “It’s bad enough to think that Patrick may have written the letters. I don’t want to believe Patrick killed him, too.”

“I know,” Phin murmured. “And you can keep hoping. But let us watch your back until we know for sure.”

“Okay.” She turned to face the table, still in Phin’s arms. “So when do we leave for Merrydale?”

23

Merrydale, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 11:45 A.M.

SAGE’S CHOP-SHOP COROLLA ROLLED TO a stop on the street near the house with the green door and the neatly kept lawn. He had no idea what he was going to do.

This had been the address on the piece of paper Alan had shoved at him. He’d recognized it immediately, of course, dropping his gaze so that his grandfather wouldn’t see his surprise.

This was where the girl lived. Ashley Caulfield.

The girl whose photos Alan kept in his secret safe.

Alan’s own granddaughter.

His grandfather had lied. Had told his own daughter that her baby had died. And then…what? Had her placed here?

Who were the Caulfields? How had Alan found them?

And what part had Cora Winslow’s father played in the entire fiasco? That Jack Elliot had been involved was only common sense.

The police had listed his probable date of death as the day the foundation had been poured in the Damper Building. The day after Ashley’s birth.

And the moment his body had been identified, Alan had been fixated on Cora Winslow. Sage might have been a fool, but he wasn’t stupid. He could add two and two and get four. Jack Elliot was definitely a part of this.

Had Jack brought her here? Had he been a go-between, getting rid of the baby that Alan had sworn was stillborn?

Why had Alan killed him?

Because Sage couldn’t think of another explanation that made sense.

This is insane.

And now Alan had ordered his own grandson to kill his own granddaughter.

Sage felt sick.

I killed that old lady and Sanjay. I’m just as bad as he is.

And if he killed the Caulfields? What then? Alan would have an even greater hold over him.

Or he’ll turn me in. Sage hadn’t noticed a tail as he’d driven out of New Orleans, but that didn’t mean that Alan’s PI wasn’t lurking. Sage hadn’t realized the PI had been watching him for years.

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