Page 56 of Buried Too Deep

Cora knew the woman was trying to take her mind off the fact that they’d learned the man who’d possessed Burke’s and Joy’s laptops had been found dead in his car, a bullet hole in his head. Which would have been bad enough, but Phin had discovered evidence that made it look like the man had been murdered.

Just like my father. Bullet to the head.

“Cora?”

Cora jerked her attention back to the blonde. “I’m sorry. My mind drifted. Can you repeat the question?”

“I asked where I can get a magnifying glass like this. It’s sturdy and hands-free. It would make my life so much easier.”

“It was my grandmother’s. I don’t know where she got it, honestly. She’d use it for her needlepoint and quilting. I’m sure you can find something similar on Amazon.”

“Not like this. I think this is at least a hundred years old. Your house is full of genuinely old stuff. I love it.”

Cora’s lips turned up. “When this is over, feel free to come back and help me sort all the genuinely old stuff so that I can sell it.”

“I might buy some of it. My sister would love something with history for her birthday.” She lifted her brows. “We could get Phin to help us move boxes. And then you could watch him while his muscles flex.”

Cora coughed. “I…I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

Molly chuckled. “He’s a fine-looking man, our Phin. And, as far as I know, unattached.”

“Are you matchmaking, Molly?”

“I am so matchmaking. He’s a nice guy and he doesn’t warm up to people easily. But he warmed up to you right away.”

“I hope he’s okay. I don’t imagine it would be easy for him to see something so grisly as that man’s body.”

“That’s true, but Antoine said the dog is making a big difference. I’m going to have to talk to the woman who trained him and get some tips for my fiancé’s dog. Shoe is generally well behaved, but he’s earned his name. He chews shoes.”

“Your shoes?”

“No, it’s always Gabe’s shoes. I think it’s because Gabe’s spilled something delicious on them at the Choux. That’s his restaurant.”

Cora perked up. “Le Petit Choux? I love that place. You’re engaged to the owner?”

“I am. I’ll ask him to send over some supper tomorrow that’s shellfish free. You ready for the next receipt?”

Cora nodded. “Go for it.”

“Days Inn; Tucson, Arizona; May 12. Memo: four nights lodging.”

Cora typed it in, her heart sinking a little more. During the last year of his life, her father had stayed at ten hotels in places far outside the New Orleans metro area. They still had three years of receipts to review, so this was likely to only get worse. “This isn’t looking good for my father’s fidelity, is it? Tucson, Austin, Wichita. As far away as Casper, Wyoming.”

“Doesn’t mean he was cheating on your mom,” Molly said. “That’s usually the first conclusion people jump to, but there are other explanations.”

“Like?” Cora asked, desperate to discover a legitimate reason for Jack Elliot’s travel. The thought of her mother seeing the receipts and believing the worst broke Cora’s heart.

“I don’t know. The first thing we’re going to do is input as many of the receipts as we can still read. The ones that are too faded to read, I’m putting aside. Antoine might be able to help me get better resolution on the ink that remains. Then we look for patterns.”

“So far, there are no patterns.”

“That’s a pattern, too. If he visited the same place repeatedly, he might have a business associate there.”

“Or a lover,” Cora murmured. “I won’t shatter, Molly. If that’s what it is, I’ll deal.”

“I know you won’t shatter. You’re too strong for that.”

Cora hoped she would be when she learned the truth. “And if we don’t find repeated destinations?”

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