Page 21 of Buried Too Deep

She was younger than he was. Maybe thirty to his nearly thirty-seven. Her dark red hair reflected the overhead lights and surrounded her shoulders like a curly cloud. She wore a straight, dark gray skirt and a light pink sweater set. A strand of pearls hugged her throat and a pair of glasses dangled from a chain around her neck.

She looked like a professor. Or a librarian.

A sharp knock at the front door startled him out of his study.

“Cora!” a woman shouted from outside. “If I don’t see my friend in ten seconds, I’m calling 911.”

Burke laughed quietly as he went to the front door. “She’s a pistol, isn’t she?”

Cora’s smile was strained. “She’s worried about me.”

“Sounds like she has a right to be,” Delores said, in her gentle way. “We’ve worried about both Phin and Joy all morning.”

Cora’s gaze flew to Phin. “Did the police book you?”

“No. The cameras confirmed my story. And the gunshot residue test on my clothes came back negative.” There’d been too much blood to test his hands.

“So did mine,” Cora said dryly, “but I think I’m still on Detective Clancy’s suspect list.”

“Me too.”

“Cora!” Tandy rushed into the room, throwing her arms around Cora and hugging her tightly. “I was so worried. Don’t do that to me again, okay?”

“Okay,” Cora whispered. “Too tight, Tandy. Can’t breathe.”

Tandy loosened her hold immediately. Blond and curvy, Tandy was like a hurricane. Her energy almost crackled. “Sorry.” She glanced at Burke when he brought over another chair. “Thank you. I’m Tandy Napier. Joy’s daughters said we’ll be safe here.” She narrowed her eyes at Phin’s boss. “I’m trusting you.”

“You will be safe,” Burke said, taking his chair—the duct-taped BarcaLounger, of course. “Now, let’s get to the story. Joy’s shooter is still out there and will be harder to track down with every minute that passes. Cora, can you start with why you came to my office this morning?”

Tandy frowned. “Yes, Cora. Do tell. This is about your father?”

“Yes. Mostly.” Cora squared her shoulders and folded her hands on her lap. “My last name is Winslow, but my birth name is Elliot. My father was Jack Elliot.”

Antoine frowned. “I’ve heard that name recently.” His eyes closed briefly before flying open. “Elliot? The guy whose body was found in that building down in Houma when they demolished it?”

Cora nodded wearily. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Burke said, surprised. “That’s not what I was expecting you to say.” He looked at Stone, Delores, and Phin. “Do you know what she’s talking about?” The three of them shook their heads. “It happened right after you left, Phin,” he said. “The Damper Building down in Houma was damaged beyond repair by the last hurricane. Houma’s an hour and a half southwest of here,” he explained to Stone and Delores. “The last few storms hit the city hard. The Damper was demolished the first of November.”

“And a body was found?” Stone asked.

“Yes.” Cora cleared her throat. “The…um, victim was buried in the foundation. Not in the concrete, but in a crevice underneath. It was in the news for a week or so, and everyone forgot about it. The man had no ID.” She looked down at her hands. “He was just a skeleton.”

Phin made sure his voice was gentle because she seemed to have become suddenly fragile. “But they ID’d him as your father?”

She nodded. “Two weeks ago. It took them a month to test the DNA in his hair follicles, matching it with the genetic databases.”

“How did they match him to you?” Antoine asked. “Did you submit DNA to one of the databases?”

“Yes. Two years ago. I was actually looking for him—or anyone else related to him.” She looked up, her expression shattered. “Two detectives came to where I work. They were there to notify me. He had two bullet holes in his skull. He’d been murdered.”

“Oh my,” Delores murmured. “I’m so sorry, Cora.”

Cora mustered a small smile. “Thank you.”

Tandy leaned over to grasp Cora’s hand. “But the police are investigating, right?”

“In Terrebonne Parish, yes, but they aren’t offering a lot of hope. He’d been there for twenty-three years. Since the foundation was poured. That’s not why I decided to contact a PI, though.”

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