Page 183 of Buried Too Deep

“Tell them the rest,” Timothy said wearily.

Beatrice cleared her throat. “You asked about Ashley’s cognitive issues. We wanted to see if there was anything genetic in her makeup, anything that would explain her condition or help us get her the right treatment.” She lifted her chin again. “We weren’t trying to fix her. She’s not broken. She’s perfect just as she is.”

“That you love her is crystal clear,” Delores said from where she sat at the motel room’s desk. “We don’t think you wanted to fix her.”

“Thank you,” Beatrice said. “Our doctor suggested we give her up when we found out the truth.”

Phin had a very bad feeling about what Beatrice was about to say. “What did the test results say, ma’am?”

“That her DNA was…muddled. She had overlaps. Far too many overlaps. Her biological parents were…related. Closely related.”

Cora flinched as Beatrice’s meaning became clear. “Incest.”

Beatrice inclined her head. “Yes. Our doctor said the results appeared to be a brother-sister pairing, but it might have been father-daughter. We tried to get in touch with John Robertson again, but the email he gave us came back as non-deliverable. We weren’t trying to give Ash back. We wanted him to know that the baby’s family had issues. There might even be legal issues if there was no consent to the conception.”

“Rape,” Cora said quietly.

Timothy’s skin had grown a rather alarming shade of gray. “That’s what we thought. We love our daughter, but if Ash was a product of rape, someone needed to be punished.”

Cora blew out a breath. “That’s a secret someone would kill to keep.”

“Then and now,” Beatrice said quietly. “I’m sorry your father was killed, Cora. I liked him. I don’t know if he knew.”

Cora shook her head. “I don’t, either. I don’t want to think that he did.”

But Patrick might have known, Phin thought. PN was the one who created the documents, who interfaced with the clients online. Had he tried to hide behind his more visible partner? The one who showed up at the clients’ houses to extract them? Or deliver babies to them.

Had the person who’d hired Jack to place infant Ashley known that Jack had a partner? Who was that person? What was their relationship to Ashley?

And why had the young man today given his name as Alan Beauchamp?

Phin brought up Beauchamp’s church’s website and found a photo of the minister. “Is this the man you saw today?”

Both Caulfields shook their heads.

“Absolutely not,” Beatrice said. “He’s far too old.”

Phin scrolled through the “About Us” page of the website and stopped cold. There was a photo of a man who looked enough like Ashley to have been her brother. Same golden hair, same smile. Same dimple.

He turned the phone to the Caulfields. “Is this him?”

Beatrice reached for the phone, enlarging the picture. “He had dark hair and glasses, but his eyes and dimple are the same.”

“Wig and glasses,” Timothy muttered. “Classic.”

“Well, he had been sent to kill us,” Beatrice said logically. “It makes sense that he’d disguise himself.” She returned Phin’s phone to him. “I think that’s him.”

“That’s Sage Beauchamp, Alan’s grandson,” Phin said, passing the phone to Val and Burke with a sigh. “That explains why Beauchamp tried to pin blame on Medford Hughes. He was trying to distract us so that we wouldn’t keep looking for your father’s clients.”

So that he could kill them. Or send his grandson to do the dirty work.

“He is a very bad man,” Cora whispered.

Phin rested his cheek on the top of her head. “He is.” He straightened. “Can we help hide these folks, Burke?”

“Of course. If you’ll trust us, we will hide you in a very safe place until Beauchamp is in police custody. I have a big house in New Orleans. You’ll be safe there. I also have a camp on the bayou, but it’s a little chilly to go there.”

“We can give you references,” Val offered. “We’re the good guys.”

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