Page 184 of Buried Too Deep

The Caulfields whispered to each other before nodding. “We’re going to agree,” Beatrice said, “for Ashley. Thank you.”

Burke’s smile was grim. “You’re welcome. If we leave now, we can get to my house by suppertime. I’ll follow you in my truck and keep watch for anyone who might get too close.”

“I’ll get Ash,” Beatrice said. She got off the bed and offered a hand to Cora. “Thank you for finding us. I hate that you lost your father. He talked about his family, how much he loved his kids. Said we seemed like nice people with a lot of love to give. He gave us the gift of Ashley. I’ll say a prayer for him every night for the rest of my life.”

When the older woman had gone to get her daughter, Cora turned to look up at Phin. “Who killed my father? Patrick? The guy who sold them a baby?”

“I don’t know,” Phin said. “But we need to find out if Alan Beauchamp is Ashley’s father.”

“And if he has a sister,” Val said.

“Or children of his own,” Phin said, not wanting to think about Alan raping his own daughter, but he had accused Medford Hughes of pedophilia, so it was possible that he’d been projecting. “We’re going to have to figure out how to tell the police what’s going on without compromising the Caulfields, but we can do that. We’ve done it before.”

Burke clapped Phin on the shoulder. “We have. Get Cora back to New Orleans safely, okay?”

“As soon as I can.”

And then he’d work with the others to figure out exactly what the hell had happened that night twenty-three years ago.

Who had killed Jack and hidden his body in the foundation? Phin’s money was still on Patrick because of the paint.

Who had written the letters to Cora? Again, his money was on Patrick.

Who had killed Medford Hughes and Minnie Edwards? That was probably Patrick, but Phin wasn’t sure. There wasn’t a connection between Patrick and Medford and Minnie. Not yet, anyway.

And who were Ashley’s parents? Alan Beauchamp? One of his children?

The more they learned, the more questions they had. But they were getting closer.

24

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 4:00 P.M.

VAL PULLED OUT OF THE fast-food parking lot, heading back to New Orleans. They’d missed lunch, and Cora had been starving. Stone and Delores had stuck behind them like glue, Stone sending Phin a flurry of texts as they’d sat in the drive-through line.

Delores had apparently brought him up to speed with what had been shared inside the motel room, and Stone had questions. From all the texts pinging Phin’s phone, the man had a lot of questions. Cora had wanted to ask Phin what those questions were, especially when, in the middle of the drive-through line, Delores and Stone had changed places in their minivan, Delores taking the wheel.

Stone was up to something. Cora could wait to learn what it was. Right now, she was mentally exhausted.

At least the food had helped. Her headache was gone.

Listening to the Caulfields’ story had been hard. Knowing her father had trafficked a baby was even harder. Ashley had gotten lucky. The Caulfields were good people.

Another couple might not have treated her so well.

Val eyed Cora and Phin in the rearview mirror. “We need to figure out what we’re going to tell Detective Clancy.”

Cora had been thinking the same thing. “I don’t know how to tell him anything without revealing what my father was doing. People like Alice VanPatten just wanted to be safe. And the Caulfields thought they were doing a legal private adoption.”

“Maybe,” Phin said. “They might have wanted to believe that it was an ordinary private adoption, but they got the baby delivered to them in the wee hours of the morning. And what if the mother of the baby didn’t give her up willingly? That would be kidnapping.”

“Then whoever wanted to place the child needs to be punished. How can we find out if the mother was willing?”

“We find the mother,” Phin said. “And then we ask her.”

“Wait,” Val said. “No, we don’t find the mother. We let Detective Clancy take it from here.”

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