Page 91 of Buried Too Deep

“I couldn’t sleep.” Because he hadn’t been here. “It’s all starting to hit me.”

“I thought it might be,” Phin said in his quiet way. “I’ll make you some tea when we’re all done here. Maybe that will help you sleep.”

She smiled at him. “Maybe.”

Stone was smirking. “I might want tea, too, Phineas. Aren’t you going to offer me some?”

Phin flipped him the bird. “Shut up.” But his lips were twitching.

Footsteps on the stairs had them all turning for the door. Two uniformed officers came in, followed by a rumpled Detective Clancy.

Clancy took one look at the scene and sighed. “Bishop and O’Bannion. You two again?”

“You’re welcome,” Stone deadpanned.

Clancy snorted a laugh. “Thank you.” He crouched next to the intruder. “Not the same guy as last time.”

“No,” Phin said. “This guy is smaller. Tiny even.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, pursing his lips.

Clancy turned to Cora. “Are you all right, Miss Winslow?”

“I am. It was mostly over by the time I ran up here. Phin and Stone had matters well in hand.”

“She sat on his legs,” Stone offered. “It was kind of a group effort.”

Cora laughed and it sounded thin and hysterical to her own ears. “I think I really need that tea.” She righted her phone so that the intruder was in the frame. Recording was the only thing she could do at the moment. She felt powerless and it sucked.

Clancy looked sympathetic. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Cora shoved what probably would have been another manic sound back down. “No, actually. I’m not injured, though. Who is this man?”

Clancy shrugged. “I don’t recognize him. Didn’t you check him for ID?”

“No wallet,” Phin said.

“Who are you?” Clancy demanded. The man deliberately looked away.

Clancy sighed again and rose. “It’s gonna be like that, I guess. Get him on his feet,” he said to the officers. “Cuff him and cut the zips, then pat him down.” He pointed to the man who now stood, his expression surly. “You will not give these officers any trouble.”

Cora thought the detective wanted to deliver a more pointed threat, but Cora was still recording on her phone.

The man sneered but still said nothing.

The officers patted the intruder down as instructed and Cora’s stomach dropped further. The man had a snub-nosed handgun and three different knives.

But perhaps equally terrifying were the matches they pulled from his pants pocket. There was a gas can on the balcony outside the still-open window.

“He was going to try to burn my house down?” Cora whispered.

“Well?” Clancy asked the man.

The man spat, his spittle landing a half inch from Clancy’s shoe.

The detective shook his head. “You’re just piling up the charges, aren’t you?” He looked up and gave a satisfied grunt. “You’ve installed a sprinkler system.”

Cora nodded. “Back in the nineties when my parents did some renovation.” That was when they’d been newlyweds and had expected to live in this house forever. “My mother said it lowered the homeowner’s insurance rate.”

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