Page 80 of Buried Too Deep

This was good. Alan was getting hot and bothered. Which meant Sage had struck a nerve.

He feigned confusion. And guilt. “I’m sorry, Grandfather, but you actually did. At least I thought you did, which was why I followed her to Broussard’s yesterday morning. Was I wrong?”

Alan huffed. “No, you’re right. But we’re done following her. Don’t do that anymore. If her bodyguards see you…”

Sage wouldn’t mention that he’d already been caught tailing her once that day. “You don’t know who Alice VanPatten is?”

“I do not. And I’m ordering you to leave the woman alone.”

Hold on. Hold the fuck on. Was that fear in Alan’s voice?

Sage had obviously hit the jackpot. He just needed to figure out what the payoff was. “Cora or Alice VanPatten?”

“Both of them,” Alan snapped. “Stay away from both of them. You will only do what I instruct you to do. You will not follow either of those women. You are hereby forbidden to do so.”

Forbidden? Really?

Did his grandfather not know him at all?

Sage made his voice meek. “Of course. I promise.”

“All right.”

It was clear that Alan didn’t believe his act, so Sage abandoned the fake meekness. “I heard that Medford Hughes died. It was on the news this morning.”

“He killed himself,” Alan said, with just the right amount of sorrow.

His grandfather was too good at this.

“His wife’s dead, too.”

“I know. I saw the same report. A murder-suicide. It’s tragic, but I’m surprised Medford didn’t snap before now. His wife’s condition has been weighing heavy on his heart for a long time. Either way, it’s a tragedy. I’m devastated for them both.”

“Yes, it is.” The news hadn’t mentioned the Broussard laptops and Sage was tempted to throw that detail into the conversation just to rile the old man, but he held himself back. He’d wait until he figured out what Alan was up to. “I guess I’ll head on back to New Orleans. Do you need me for anything more?”

“Not at this time. I’ll call you if I need you again.”

Alan ended the call and Sage checked the time on the dash clock of his rented Camry. He had time to get back to New Orleans before his grandfather finished at work. Sage’s friendly guard would still be on duty. No one would tattle back to Alan that Sage had slipped into the neighborhood.

It was time to try to open that safe.

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 3:00 P.M.

Burke, Molly, and Antoine were waiting for them at Cora’s kitchen table, and it looked to Phin like they’d been busy. There was an easel and a whiteboard with markers and sticky notes.

Food, too, which was a welcome sight. Phin was starving.

Molly held up a hand when the three of them entered the kitchen. “The three dishes on the stovetop have no fish or shellfish. Those are Cora’s. All the stuff on the countertops is for the rest of us.”

Cora’s smile was grateful, but shaky. “That was kind of you, Molly, but I’m not hungry just yet.”

Phin made her a plate anyway. “Eat,” he commanded quietly when he put the food in front of her. “You need to eat something.”

Val sat beside Cora, her own plate piled high. “He’s right. We need you brainy and alert. You’ve had a shock, and I know what that feels like. But you can do this, Cora.”

Cora squared her shoulders. “Brainy and alert, huh?”

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