Page 76 of Buried Too Deep

Cora flinched. That was not what she’d expected Alice to say. “You knew my mother?”

“Not personally, no. Your father talked about her. Once he showed me a photo. It was your mother with you and your brother.”

Cora was unsure of what to say. “My father showed you a photo of my mother?”

Alice nodded. “He loved her very much.”

Cora blinked again. “Were you…involved with my father?”

Alice’s weary resignation gave way to what looked like guilt. “Yes, but not in the way you’re assuming. Before I tell you the story, I’d like to know how you found me.”

“We were searching my father’s records and found a receipt from a gun store in Twin Falls the year he died. He bought .30-30 ammo. I googled those things and came up with the news story of the death of your husband. My PIs checked you out and saw that you’d moved here to Baton Rouge and remarried.”

“I’m Richard VanPatten,” the man said. “Alice saw the news report two weeks ago of your father’s body being identified. She recognized his picture right away. She’s been a nervous wreck ever since.”

“And grieving,” Alice murmured. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Cora. I didn’t know he’d been killed before two weeks ago.”

“Me either,” Cora said. “Someone’s been sending me letters signed by my father for the last twenty-three years.”

Alice gasped and Richard’s face went slack with shock. “What?” they said together.

“That’s why Cora hired us,” Val said. “Someone’s been trying to get to her. She’s had several break-ins at her house and she was chased through New Orleans yesterday.”

“We’re not here to get you into trouble,” Phin added. “Cora needs information. We need to protect her. How did you know Jack Elliot?”

“I didn’t know that was his name,” Alice said quietly. “He said he was John Robertson. My parents hired him to help me.”

Cora’s heart didn’t know whether to settle or race. John Robertson. He’d used John Winslow when he’d stayed with this woman at a hotel. He’d used her brother’s name as another alias. “Given your history of abuse, I’m guessing why your parents hired my father. But why my father? Why hire my father to kill your husband?”

Alice shook her head. “No. My parents hired an eraser, not an assassin.”

Cora frowned. “An eraser? What’s that?”

Phin stiffened beside her. “An eraser, like in the Schwarzenegger movie?”

Alice nodded once. “Yes.”

Cora looked up at Phin. “What’s an eraser? It sounds like an assassin.”

He grimaced. “Sometimes it is. Depends on the case. I take it that Cora’s father did not work for the government.”

“No,” Alice said. “He most certainly did not. He was an independent.”

Cora was confused. “Stop. Tell me what an eraser does.”

Phin gripped her hand a little tighter. “Think witness protection without all the government’s procedures.”

It took Cora’s brain a few moments to process that. When it clicked, she stared at Alice. “Your parents hired my father to find you a new identity? A new life away from your abusive husband?”

“Yes. And he’d done that, but things went south at the last minute.” Alice sighed. “Jarred Bergeron was a brute. He’d beat me until I couldn’t move. He isolated me from my family. He made me believe that my parents didn’t care about me, that I was stuck with him. We lived several miles from town on a ranch, and we were alone out there except for a few ranch hands. Most of them didn’t want to get involved in the boss’s business—or they thought his young wife needed to be taught her place. But one of the ranch hands felt sorry for me. He told my parents what was happening. One day when Jarred was in town buying supplies, my parents showed up and took me home, to their house where I’d grown up.”

“But Jarred came after her,” Richard said, anger in his voice. “Threatened to kill her whole family, including her brothers and sisters. The youngest was only ten. So she went home with him.”

“And he punished you,” Cora said quietly.

Alice nodded. “It was…really bad. And then my parents’ house caught on fire. They got everyone out, but it was close. Jarred laughed. Said he hoped they got the message to stay out of our lives. I considered suicide, but I couldn’t make myself do it.”

“I’m glad you couldn’t,” Richard said gruffly.

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