Page 73 of Buried Too Deep

“And don’t you forget it,” Joy said tartly, then reached for Cora’s hand. “I was scared for you.”

Cora’s shoulders hunched. “I was scared for you, too.”

“He wanted you. Wanted your records. He said he was ‘looking for the Winslow woman.’ I knew you had to run. He meant business. I’ll remember his voice for a long, long time.”

Cora tilted her head. “If we find him, will you be able to ID his voice?”

Joy nodded, her eyes narrowing. “You bet your ass I will. And don’t say if. Say when, because Burke will figure this out. Where did you go when you very wisely obeyed me and ran for your life?”

“Through the Quarter. I went to Tandy’s gallery first, but she wasn’t there. She called me and told me you’d been shot. I went straight to the police station from there. They took my statement and sent me on my way.”

“They gave you no protection,” Joy said, tutting. “Shameful. But you seem to have found some protection on your own.” She leaned to look around Cora. “Hey, Val.”

Val waved from where she leaned against the wall. “Hey, Joy. I tried to bring you coffee and cupcakes, but Louisa told me no.”

Louisa gasped. “I did not. You’re trying to make trouble for me.”

Val looked pleased with herself when Joy laughed, a dry raspy sound. “You girls,” Joy said fondly. Then she sobered. “Tell me what’s happening, Cora Jane.”

Cora looked over her shoulder at Louisa, her expression clearly asking for permission.

Louisa shrugged. “You might as well tell her everything. Besides, I want to know, too. So will Nala. So dish, girl.”

Cora did, telling Joy about the files and receipts they’d found in the attic, the death of the man found with the laptops, and the woman they were going to see outside Baton Rouge. The woman who might have been having an affair with her father. Whose husband Cora’s father might have killed.

Joy sank back into the bed. “Mercy. That escalated fast.”

Cora’s laugh sounded startled. “Actually, I think it started with a bang,” she said wryly.

Joy grimaced. “Don’t make me laugh, girl. It hurts.”

Cora instantly sobered. “I’m sorry.”

“Hush. We knew this had to do with your daddy. It’s still hard to learn the truth, sometimes. The one truth that isn’t hard to learn is that Phin Bishop is a good man. You’ll be safe with him, no matter what he thinks of himself.”

“I think I figured that out myself,” Cora said softly.

“Because you’ve always been smart.” Joy looked up, met Phin’s eyes. “Your turn, Phineas Butler Bishop.”

Phin winced at being full-named, even as he shifted foot to foot over her praise. “I can’t be in trouble, Joy. I saved your life.”

Joy’s lips twitched. “Yes, you did, but you can still be in trouble. Come here. Let me look at you.”

Phin obeyed, sitting on the other side of the bed and clutching the bed rail with both hands. He wanted to say something, but his voice had deserted him.

Joy filled in the silence, her voice going a little hoarse, emotion in her dark eyes. “Thank you, Phin. You came home at exactly the right time. My kids told me what you did for me. How you saved me.”

“My friend Stone helped.” Phin’s mind replayed the memories of her blood on his hands, and his chest tightened again. As was becoming her habit, SodaPop pressed close, leaning against his leg. He sucked in a lungful of air, his nose burning at the disinfectant smell. “You stopped breathing.”

SodaPop licked his hand just as Joy snapped, “Phin.”

She’s not dead. She’s not bleeding.

She’s alive. You saved her life.

When he felt stable, he met Joy’s concerned brown eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I can see that.” She nodded toward SodaPop. “Who is this pretty one?”

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