Page 7 of Buried Too Deep

Move. Get to the gallery. Think of a reason you look like you ran through the city like you were being chased.

“Ma’am?”

Cora wheeled around to find a young man giving her a troubled look. “Yes?” Her voice was full of residual fear.

The young man worked at the bakery, if his Marica’s T-shirt was any indication. He was tall and lanky, like he still needed to grow into his frame. But his blue eyes were kind. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

“I’m okay. Just…” She managed a smile. “Can’t do crowds.” It was a lie. She’d grown up in New Orleans and crowds were a fact of life.

He didn’t look convinced. “Can I call somebody to help you?”

She must have looked as bad as she felt. “No, thank you. I’m really fine. Have a good day.”

She set off at a brisk walk, ignoring his repeated offer to call someone for her.

Great. A witness. She looked around and sighed. There were cameras everywhere. Her flight from Broussard Investigations had undoubtedly been captured.

You didn’t do anything wrong.

Except leave Joy behind.

She turned another corner into another alley, only pausing when she emerged onto Royal Street, Tandy’s gallery now within sight. Her friend didn’t open the front doors until ten, but she’d be there already, doing the books or inventory or whatever tasks needed to be done.

She’ll know something’s wrong. She hadn’t told Tandy that she was going to see a private investigator because her best friend was a worrier. Then Tandy would tell her father and they’d both smother Cora with concern and Cora hated that. Their concern always made her feel helpless and she wasn’t helpless, dammit. She’d been taking care of herself for a long, long time.

Besides, she hadn’t even been sure she had a valid reason for her fear. Not until this morning.

Now…well, Tandy was going to be mad that Cora had kept this from her.

Slipping the burner phone into her pocket, Cora pulled the pins from her hair, releasing the braids she’d put up that morning so that she could wear the black wig.

Just in case whoever had been messing with her house was watching her.

Uneasy now, she looked around, searching for the man who’d chased her. All she saw were a few tourists, out early to gape at the sights.

Working the braids in her hair free, she knocked on the front door of Tandy’s gallery, but it was dark inside and there was no sign of anyone inside. Cora frowned. Tandy was always in her office by eight a.m.

I need to get off the street.

Just because she didn’t see the man who’d chased her didn’t mean he wasn’t out there.

She race-walked to the next alley and to the gallery’s back door. Punching in the keypad code, she let herself into the storeroom that doubled as Tandy’s office and disabled the alarm, then locked the door and reset the alarm. It was a security door and the windows were hurricane glass. Nobody was getting in.

She sank into Tandy’s desk chair. I’m safe. And now she could think.

She’d run this morning, like a coward. She needed to make sure that Joy was all right. Setting the burner aside, she dialed Joy’s cell from her personal phone, but it rang and rang. New dread made it hard to breathe once more.

“Answer your phone, Joy,” she muttered, but it went to voicemail.

I shouldn’t have run.

She had started to leave a message when her cell rang. It was Tandy.

“Where are you?” Cora demanded, not even saying hello.

“In an Uber on my way to the hospital. Why are you in my office? Are you all right?”

Cora lurched to her feet and stared into the camera in the corner of the office. Tandy could see the live feeds on her phone. “Am I all right? Are you all right? Why are you going to the hospital?”

---