Page 186 of Buried Too Deep

“Found it while you were weaving in the loose threads,” Phin said. “Sage’s job on Sundays is to welcome visitors from the pulpit, deliver the church announcements, and then introduce his grandfather for the sermon. Listen. He’s recorded every week.” He hit play.

Cora leaned over his arm to watch the video he’d found. Sage stood in front of the pulpit in a massively large auditorium, his golden hair shining under the lights. He was smiling and joking. He had the audience laughing and turning to welcome the person standing next to them.

Sage was engaging and charismatic.

He’d also warned the Caulfields to run.

But he might have shot Joy. And chased me through the Quarter.

“He was only two years old when my father was killed.”

“True,” Phin said, “but his grandfather keeps him close. Who better to send out for information than a family member who you trust?”

“Could he have been the one following us?” she asked. “Maybe watching us from his car down the street from my house? Maybe even involved with Vincent Ray breaking in to burn my house down?”

“We’d have to see how Sage Beauchamp and Vincent Ray might connect,” Val said logically. “We do know that it’s possible for Patrick and Vincent to have crossed paths.”

Cora pressed her fingers to her temples. “Could Patrick, Alan, and Sage be working together?”

Phin gently tugged her fingers from her brow and began massaging her temples with a pressure that was just right. Cora nearly moaned with relief.

“They might be,” he said. “But let’s focus on one connection at a time. Sage and Joy. Let’s get Joy to listen to this clip. You call one of her kids and tell me who to text the clip to.”

He stopped rubbing her forehead and Cora wanted to pout. But he was right. One connection at a time.

Cora called Nala, Joy’s oldest. “Hey, it’s Cora. Are you with your mother?”

“I am,” Nala said. “What’s up?”

“Phin’s going to text you a video clip. Don’t show it to your mother. Just have her listen to the man’s voice. Ask her if it’s familiar.”

Phin fired off a text with a link to the video and then they waited.

“Cora,” Nala said warily. “This clip is of a preacher’s grandson.”

“I know. Just have her listen.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll call you right back.”

Phin held Cora’s hand while they waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, Nala called them back.

“That’s the guy, which is wild, Cora Jane. He’s the one who shot her. Mama’s absolutely sure. She said that he sounded familiar at the time and now she knows why. She’s seen him on the TV ads for his grandfather’s church. How the hell did you arrive at this?”

“Long story,” Cora said. “I’ll tell you later. Can you let Detective Clancy know that your mother ID’d Sage Beauchamp as her attacker? Don’t tell them it came from us. Just say she saw him on TV.”

“I can do that. I’ll call the detective right now. Mama says you two better come back to visit her or you’ll be sorry.”

Cora smiled. “Tell her that we’ll come as soon as we get a chance to breathe.”

“Keep breathing,” Nala said, with all seriousness. “Do not do anything dangerous.”

“I won’t. I promise. Bye now.” Cora ended the call and wanted to crow. “Now we just need to find Jennifer Beauchamp. I wonder if her remaining brother knows where she is.” She grimaced. “I wonder who’s the father of her child—one of her brothers or her father.”

“If it’s the oldest brother, he’s dead,” Phin said. “At this point, we wait for Antoine and Stone to come up with a location for Jennifer Beauchamp. Now, I think you should rest. You’ve had a hard few days.”

Cora wasn’t even going to argue. “Wake me up if something happens.”

Phin kissed her, slow and sweet. “I will.”

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