Chapter 10
10
The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 8:50 A.M.
PHIN WAS SITTING WITH BURKE and Antoine at Cora's kitchen table when she and Val returned from the library by way of the entire Garden District. They should have been back thirty minutes before.
Burke frowned. "What took you so long?"
"We've been worried," Phin added quietly.
Val's expression was grim. "We had a tail. Black Camry. A man driving this same make and model was waiting for Cora at the library this morning. Her boss noted the plate." She handed a piece of paper to Antoine. "I drove around some more after we lost him. Wanted to be sure."
"I'm on it." Antoine was already typing the license plate into his computer.
Val gently pushed Cora into the seat beside Phin. "I'll make you some tea."
"Thank you," Cora murmured, far too pale for Phin's liking.
Phin laid one of his hands over Cora's where she'd clenched them on the tabletop. "You're like ice."
"You're safe here," Burke told her.
Cora swallowed audibly. "Thank you. That guy might have just been a reporter, but I'm shaken up. Not gonna lie."
"You have a right to be." Phin started to move his hand, but Cora surprised him by grabbing it and holding it tight.
"You're warm," she whispered, "and I'm so cold."
Burke left the room and came back with an afghan that had been on Cora's sofa. He draped it over her shoulders. "We're figuring it out, but these things take time."
Phin hesitated, then put his arm around her. Between his body heat and the blanket, he'd get her warmed up. She was shaking like a leaf. "You got a hit on that Camry, Antoine?"
Antoine frowned at his screen. "It's a rental. Getting the renter will take some extra effort. Did they seem hostile?"
"Didn't stop to ask," Val said as she placed a steaming cup of tea in front of Cora. "He was driving aggressively. I finally did a somewhat illegal move and lost him."
"Antoine, find out who rented it," Burke instructed. "In the meantime, Phin, tell them what you found out about the van in Cora's driveway."
Phin wished he didn't have to because it wasn't good. "I got camera footage from one of your neighbors. The van that parked here on Friday wasn't the same one that was parked in front of Medford Hughes's house. That one was a white panel van. The one in your driveway was a white minivan, also a rental. The driver was in your house for two hours. A ball cap hid his face."
"Bold," Val murmured.
Cora frowned. "He knew I wasn't home."
Because he'd bugged her purse.
Phin hesitated, hating to have to tell her this part. "We saw the same van in your driveway two other times, both during the day. Each time a man got out, a cap hiding his face, stayed in your house for between one and two hours, then left. Twice he came at night and he walked up to your house and went through your back gate. The first time was the day after your father's body was identified. He stayed less than five minutes that first time. That was probably when he bugged your purse."
Cora shuddered, her face growing pale. "He was here five times. Twice when I was asleep."
Phin's arm tightened and she leaned into him. "He won't get in again," he vowed. Even if he had to camp out in her house every night. She would be safe.
Her hands trembled as she wrapped them around the cup of hot tea. "I know," she whispered so faintly that he almost didn't hear it.
"We'll keep you safe, Cora," Burke assured.
"I know," she said again, then lifted her chin. "I can't do anything about those break-ins now. I can only move forward. Is there any good news? Please say yes."
Phin squeezed her hand, proud of her. She was tough. He hoped she'd find the next bit to be good news, but he didn't think she would. "Antoine found out about Twin Falls."
Antoine turned one of his three laptops around so that Cora could see the screen. "This is Alice VanPatten. She was Alice Bergeron when she lived near Twin Falls, Idaho."
"The wife of the man who was killed?" she asked. "Her husband's name was Jarred Bergeron. Did Alice remarry?"
"She did, ten years ago," Antoine said. "But she relocated to Baton Rouge only a few months after her husband was killed."
"Which was two weeks before my father died." Cora frowned. "She moved just an hour from New Orleans? That doesn't sound like a coincidence, even though he was dead by then."
Antoine shrugged. "I don't think it is a coincidence, but I can't explain it yet. For a while, she was a suspect in her husband's death."
Val took the seat across the table, cradling her own cup of tea. "I thought the ME ruled it an accidental death. A hunting accident."
"At first, they did," Antoine said. "Then Alice was under suspicion because she'd filed a police report claiming domestic abuse six months before he died. She claimed she'd left him, but he'd come to her parents' house to bring her home, threatening to kill them if she didn't comply."
"And then he's dead," Cora murmured. "Why didn't they suspect her parents?"
Antoine pulled his computer so that his screen faced him again. "They had an unshakable alibi—they were in church. Alice also had an unshakable alibi. She was seeing a man in a hotel room in Salt Lake City, two hundred miles away. The hotel confirmed that she'd been seen going up the elevator."
Cora straightened beneath Phin's arm, but she didn't move away. "Was the man's name Jack Elliot?"
Antoine shook his head. "John Winslow."
Cora covered her mouth with her hand, a tiny whimper escaping her. Phin thought this might be a bigger blow than an intruder invading her home.
"He used my mom's last name," she whispered. "Were he and Alice having an affair?"
"I don't know," Antoine said compassionately. "But soon after she was cleared, she sold the property in Idaho and moved to Baton Rouge. I found her address. She's an interior decorator. She married Richard VanPatten ten years ago. They have a four-year-old son."
Cora was silent for a long, long moment. Then she lifted her chin once again. "I want to meet her. I want to find out if my father killed her husband. And why."
"We figured you would," Burke said. "Val's going with you as your bodyguard. Antoine and I will stay here and keep searching the attic for anything your father or mother stored that's pertinent. Phin, you're on window security."
Cora turned to Antoine. "Have you reviewed all of the disks you found?"
Antoine nodded. "I did. There's nothing on them that looks out of place."
"And nothing that matches any of the receipts Molly logged last night," Burke added. "She entered all of them into that spreadsheet of hers. None of the names, places, or dates lined up with his client files. Based on what your mother copied from your father's computer, all of his clients were in New Orleans."
Cora's jaw grew taut. "So he was either having affairs or doing something that got him killed. Or both, I suppose."
"Or both," Burke agreed. "I say we ask Alice."
Cora tilted her head back to look at Phin, her eyes filled with exhaustion and pain. "Can you come, too?"
Yes. But he shouldn't. "I need to fix your window locks."
Cora's lips quivered before she pressed them together. "Okay. I understand."
"But I can do that when we get back," Phin said, hating that he'd upset her. "It might mean me working into the evening, late. Is that okay with you, Burke?"
Burke frowned. "I suppose so, but…why, Cora, if you don't mind my asking?"
Cora grew still, her composure morphing from tired and stressed to something almost regal. She looked polished, like she was heiress to this house and all it contained.
She looked like the portrait of her grandmother hanging in her living room.
"Because I've slept only three hours in the past two days and that was when Phin was in my house. No offense to Molly, but I didn't sleep a wink last night. I'm hoping to get some rest in the car on the way to Baton Rouge. I'd be most obliged if you'd allow him to accompany me."
Phin sat up a little straighter. He might have pulled her a little closer. And she might have leaned into him a little more. If he did nothing else, he'd make sure Cora got some rest.
Val hid her smile behind a cup of tea. "Let him join us, Burke. It's good training. Phin's always got my back. Plus, Cora feels safe with him."
Burke shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I can work on the windows."
Cora gaped at him. "You're going to put locks on my windows?"
Burke looked amused. "I can do handyman stuff, too, Cora."
"But don't you have work at your office?"
Burke's amusement faded. "The cops were going to release the crime scene this morning, but then Medford Hughes was killed with my laptops in the back seat of his car. They're holding the office closed a little longer. I've got a few bodyguards out in the field and they'll stay on their current assignments. I can work from here if I need to. And don't worry—I can work on the windows as well as Phin can."
Phin knew that was true. Burke was good at fixing things but had hired Phin to do the maintenance on the office and his house. Phin wasn't sure if it was to give him work or because Burke simply wanted to relax on his time off.
Probably a bit of both.
"We need to stop and see Joy on the way," Phin said.
Val nodded. "You betcha. Antoine, send me the file on Alice VanPatten, along with her current address. We'll say hi to Joy and then we'll hit the road."
Tulane Medical Center, New Orleans, Louisiana
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 10:00 A.M.
Phin paused in the sterile hallway, bracing himself to walk into Joy's hospital room.
He'd been in the hospital too many times himself, and he had the scars to prove it. Memories began to rise from where he'd stuffed them down deep.
A heavy weight against his leg had him reaching his fingers into SodaPop's coat. God, was he lucky. Delores had cared enough about him to train this amazing dog especially for him.
The realization calmed him enough that he was able to take a breath, then another. The tightness in his chest receded just enough for him to take the next step.
But pressure tightened on his other hand, halting him once again. He looked down to see Cora's hand clutching his. She wasn't moving. In fact, when he tugged her forward, she tugged back, resisting. Slowly he lifted his gaze to hers and was rocked.
She was afraid, but there was something else in her brandy-colored eyes.
Guilt.
It took him a second to process the reason behind it, but then he squeezed her hand back.
"She told you to run."
Cora stared at Joy's open door. "I should have stayed."
"You might be dead now." And he couldn't stand the thought of that.
"Joy almost was," she whispered. "You saved her."
"Nah, it was the EMTs," he said, and she looked up at him sharply.
"Stop that," she snapped. "You stop that right now. You saved her life, Phin. Don't minimize who you are and what you mean to Joy and all the rest of them."
Phin blinked. "I don't do that."
Val snorted from behind them, startling him. He'd forgotten she was there.
"Yeah, you do," Val drawled, "and it drives me nuts. Come on, children. We shouldn't be standing in the hallway. We're blocking the road."
He tugged Cora toward the door. "Val's right. Let's do this. For Joy."
Cora squared her shoulders, but the guilt was still there in her eyes. She fixed her lips in a smile that wouldn't fool anyone who truly knew her.
Like Joy, who'd known Cora since she was a child.
The hospital room was less intense than Phin had expected. Not as many beeping instruments. And the room was filled with flowers and balloons.
Louisa stood when they entered, a relieved smile breaking over her face. "Oh, thank goodness. Mama's been going on about how you needed to get your butts in here."
"I said asses, not butts," Joy said from the bed. Her voice was weak, but she was alive and Phin felt relief crash over him in a wave.
He was suddenly aware that he'd been expecting her to look much worse than she did. She was staring at him with one eyebrow raised, demanding he come closer.
A smile tilted his lips as he obeyed the command, stopping at the foot of her bed. "Hi, Joy."
Joy's stare remained sharp as a blade. "?‘ Hi, Joy, ' he says, like he hasn't been gone for six weeks. Get in here, Phin. Both of you." Her gaze dropped to their joined hands. "How long was I asleep, LouLou?"
Louisa was grinning. "Less than a day, Mama."
"That's what I thought. You move fast, boy." She patted the side of her bed. "Cora Jane Winslow, get over here. Stop hiding behind Phin."
Cora had indeed retreated behind his back. "She feels guilty for leaving you," he said.
Joy huffed. "I figured that out myself. Don't make me get out of this bed, Cora Jane."
Cora eased forward, glaring at Phin. "Asshole," she muttered.
He chuckled, not offended in the least. In fact, he felt calmer than he had in a very long time. "I've been called worse."
Cora moved to the chair next to Joy's bed. "I should have stayed with you," she said stubbornly.
Joy's eyes softened. "No, you did what I told you to do."
Cora shook her head, sending her red curls bouncing in every which direction. "If I'd stayed, you might not have been shot."
"I don't think he meant to shoot me. Plus, I did shoot him first." Joy said this so proudly that Phin laughed.
Cora snickered. "You're a badass, Joy."
"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?"
"SodaPop. She's mine. A service dog. For PTSD," he added haltingly and wondered how long it would take before he admitted that freely, without feeling ashamed.
"I wish I'd thought of that," Joy said. "Who did?"
"My friend Stone's wife. Delores trains dogs. She started training SodaPop for me over a year ago."
Joy nodded. "That's where you go when you leave."
Shame crept up his throat. Then he startled when Joy flicked his hand with her fingernail. "Ow, Joy."
"You always come back, Phin. We know that you'll always come back. I'm just glad you've had a safe place to land all this time. Tell me about them."
So he did, talking about how Stone and Delores had opened their home. He talked about all of Delores's dogs. And about how he was going back home at Christmas.
All the while, he was aware that Cora hung on every word. He wasn't sure if this pleased him or not, because now she knew how fucked up he really was.
He couldn't fix that. Not today, anyway.
So he told Joy about his family. His mother, the retired English teacher. His father, the captain in Cincinnati PD. His twin, Scarlett, who had a smart mouth and a tender heart, who'd adopted a three-legged bulldog and spoiled him rotten. He talked about his brothers and his uncle, the priest, softening his voice as Joy's eyes began to blink, her eyelids heavy.
"You're going to love them," he ended in a whisper, smiling when Joy let out a most unladylike snore. Not that he'd ever tell her that she'd done such a thing.
"You think they'll visit New Orleans?" Cora asked softly.
He met her gaze over Joy's bed. "I hope so. I hope they don't turn me away."
It was one of his deepest fears.
"I hope they don't, too. But it's hard to believe they could, based on how you've described them."
She had questions, Phin could tell. Like why have you avoided your family all this time when they're wonderful? But he was grateful that she didn't ask him anything more.
Cora rose stiffly and he saw her exhaustion. The dark circles under her eyes had grown deeper and darker. She'd sleep in the car on the way to Baton Rouge if he had to sing her a lullaby himself.
Phin met her at the end of Joy's bed, slipping his arm around her shoulders, gratified when she leaned against him. Why she'd latched onto him was still a mystery. He wasn't an investigator. He wasn't a bodyguard. He wasn't much of a friend or someone who could be depended on in an emergency.
But he wanted to be. He wanted it so badly he could taste it.
"Come on," he murmured. "You need to rest."
Val gave him a nod as she followed them out to Burke's company SUV. It was as bulletproof as a vehicle could be, and Phin felt safer having Cora in it.
"You drive?" he asked Val. "And I'll sit in back with her."
SodaPop sat on the floor, curled around his feet, while Cora leaned against him. Before they got on I-10 toward Baton Rouge, Cora was asleep.
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 12:30 P.M.
Alice VanPatten's house was tucked behind some trees at the end of a cul-de-sac. Cora stared at it numbly, not sure what she should be feeling.
"Cora?" Val prompted from the driver's seat. "You okay?"
"I don't know," Cora admitted. "Logically, I should be angry at this woman for having an affair with my father. But all I feel is…nothing."
Beside her in the back seat, Phin squeezed her hand. "Let's go ask her what happened. Or at least what she knows. Then you can decide what you feel."
Val turned in her seat to meet Cora's eyes directly. "And if you zone out and can't listen, Phin and I will be there. Sometimes hearing things that you never expected to hear—and that are diametrically opposed to what you want to believe—can send your brain into a kind of stasis. If that happens, you're far from alone. I'm even going to record the conversation on my phone."
"And if you don't want to go in, I'll go in and ask," Phin offered. "Val can stay out here and keep you safe."
Touched, Cora patted his hand. "Thank you, but I want to meet her. I want to know why she moved from Idaho to Baton Rouge. I want to know what my father actually did."
"Then let's get this done," Val said, getting out of the SUV and coming around to the back to let Cora out.
Phin got out of his side, then hesitated. "What about SodaPop?"
Val shrugged. "Bring her. If they don't allow a dog, she can wait in the SUV. It's cool enough that she'll be fine for a little while."
"Okay." Phin clucked to SodaPop, who jumped out and fell into line beside him.
"Thank you," Cora murmured as they walked to Alice's front door. "I got some sleep. You make a good pillow, Phin."
His smile warmed her, inside and out. "All part of the Broussard service."
Still, Cora was grateful. She wasn't sure what it was about this man that made her feel safe enough to sleep, and for now she wasn't going to question it. She'd accept it until her life calmed enough for her to think clearly.
For now, she was taking one step at a time. Literally.
Val climbed the steps first, waiting until Cora and Phin were on the porch before knocking. For at least a minute, no one answered. There were no voices to be heard.
Then, finally, the door opened, revealing a man who appeared to be in his fifties. He looked tense and wore no smile. "Yes?"
Cora took a deep breath. "We're here to talk to Mrs. VanPatten, if she's available. My name is Cora Winslow. I think your wife knew my father. I learned recently that he died twenty-three years ago. I'm hoping to learn something about him."
The man's face remained impassive, except for his left eye, which twitched. "What was your father's name?"
Cora didn't take her eyes off the man's face. "Jack Elliot."
His shoulders sagged. "I thought so." He opened the door wider. "Please, come in."
Cora exchanged glances with Val and Phin. Both of them looked as puzzled as she felt. But then Phin's hand caught hers and held it.
"We can leave at any time," he whispered. "Just say the word."
Cora squeezed his hand. "Thank you."
"May we bring the dog?" Phin asked. "She's my service dog."
Nodding silently, the man led them into the living room where a woman sat in the corner of a sofa, her hands folded in her lap.
Cora's breath hitched. Alice Bergeron VanPatten.
Slowly Alice rose to greet them, her expression one of weary resignation. "Are you police?"
Cora blinked. "No. I'm a librarian. My friends Val and Phin are private investigators. Do you need the police?"
Alice laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Oh no. Certainly not. Please sit down. I imagine you have questions, but I have one of my own first." She waited until Cora and Phin were seated on a love seat, SodaPop at Phin's feet. Val chose to remain standing directly behind Cora. The man sat beside Alice on the sofa and they held hands, their grips white-knuckled.
What had Cora's father done? Did the man holding Alice's hand know that she'd had an affair with a married man? Did he know that Alice's first husband had been murdered?
Maybe so. He looked stricken. And terrified.
Join the club, sir.
"I'm Cora."
Alice nodded, her smile faint. "I know. You look like your mother."
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.
Alice leaned against his shoulder. "Me too. Now. Then, I was desperate to get out."
"And law enforcement was no help?" Cora guessed.
Alice's mouth twisted bitterly. "Jarred was from a wealthy family. He could get away with anything. And then one day, when Jarred was in town, this man knocked on the door. It was your father. He claimed to be doing a political poll. I was instantly suspicious until he surreptitiously showed me the letter from my parents as he was going on about the candidate up for reelection. The letter said that I was to listen to this man. He'd get me out and I'd get a new ID. A new life. I'd move east. So I listened to him."
"No affair?" Cora asked, hopeful.
"No affair. Your dad's plan was simple. I was to pack up one backpack's worth of things I'd need and leave the pack in the woods behind our house. He gave me some powder to put into Jarred's coffee so that he'd go to sleep and I could sneak out. Then I was to wait for your father in the woods."
"But something went wrong?" Phin asked.
Alice sighed. "Yes. Somebody snitched. Probably one of the ranch hands. After my parents' attempt to take me home with them, Jarred had me watched. I don't think that Jarred knew your father was trying to help me escape. I think he honestly thought I was cheating on him. He beat me so badly that I was unconscious. I missed the pickup, and your father came knocking again the first time that Jarred left the property, a few days later. He took one look at my face and told me to come now . Not to worry about a backpack. He had me lie down in the back of his car and he drove. We stopped at the gun store on the way out of town and he bought the ammo. He already had a rifle. Then he stopped at a drugstore and bought bandages. Unfortunately, he didn't see Jarred lurking."
"Your husband was following you?" Cora guessed.
"He was. Your dad drove me to a hunting cabin he'd rented. He told me stories about Louisiana, about you and your brother, Cora. About your mother. He kept talking to keep me relaxed because I was still in bad shape. He hadn't even gotten the car stopped in front of the cabin when Jarred started shooting, but your dad was so calm. He stopped the car, took that rifle, told me to keep my head down, and fired one shot. Jarred was dead."
"Which put Alice in a bad place," Richard said. "If she disappeared then, she'd be suspected for his murder. Her face would be everywhere and cops would be looking for her. Starting over would have been even harder."
"So your father created an alibi for me. Jarred had already told everyone that I was cheating on him. So your father just used that. He took me to a tiny little roadside motel outside Salt Lake City and left for a few hours. When he came back, I had an alibi. I was supposedly with a man in a fancy hotel in downtown Salt Lake. I think our local sheriff doubted the story because I was so beaten up, but the alibi was so solid, he didn't have much of a choice. Jarred's family insisted I'd done it, but the hotel manager in Salt Lake City swore I was there. I don't know how your father got him to swear that I was there. I was cleared, which meant I could leave Idaho as a free woman—with an inheritance. I got the ranch and everything that went with it, much to the consternation of Jarred's family. Everyone thought I was a whore, but I didn't care. I just wanted out. I sold the ranch and moved east."
"You and your parents came to Baton Rouge," Phin said. "Why here?"
Alice smiled genuinely for the first time. "Cora's father made Louisiana sound so wonderful. We stayed in that roadside hotel overnight, so that I was recovered enough to walk unassisted the next day. He just kept talking to me. That's when he showed me the photo of his family. He called your mother once. I could hear how much he loved her. He told her he was in Baton Rouge with a client, and that sounded like a nice place. I didn't know he was from New Orleans, but I knew it was somewhere in the south because of his accent. I honestly just liked the sound of Baton Rouge. My parents had used all the money they got from the insurance on their house that burned down to pay for your father to hide me, but by then I had the money from the ranch, so we got a place together. I changed my name from Bergeron to my maiden name, which was Smith. I didn't change it again until I married Richard." She shrugged. "That's all."
That's all? Cora's mind was spinning. "I don't even know what to ask."
"I do," Phin said. "What about Jarred's parents? You said they were influential. Jack Elliot was killed only two weeks after he killed your husband. Could they have found out about what Jack did and killed him?"
Cora sucked in a breath. Good question.
Alice flinched. "I never considered that. I didn't know he was dead until two weeks ago. I suppose it's possible, but I don't know how you'd find out. They both died ten years ago. But they left me alone after I moved and they didn't fight my inheriting everything from Jarred. They tried to, because they said I was cheating on their son, but your father had given me something else—photos of my injuries. I hadn't had any of those before. Every time I went to the hospital, any records were somehow ‘lost.' But your father gave me photos from when he'd rescued me. I showed them to his parents and said that I'd go public. That their reputation would be ruined. I'd already reported Jarred to the local police and nothing had happened, but I'd go to a big newspaper and tell them. Jarred's folks were furious, but their reputation was important to them, so they let me go. I told them that if anyone in my new town got wind of who I'd been in Idaho, I'd bring out that photo. Your father had told me to put it in a safe-deposit box, which I did. He was a good man, your father. I'm alive today because of him. I'm so sorry about what happened to him."
Phin nodded. "Mrs. VanPatten, how did your parents find out about Cora's father to begin with? It's not like he would have advertised in the newspaper."
Another good question , Cora thought, glad that she'd asked Phin to come along.
"I don't know," Alice said. "I asked once, and my father changed the subject."
"Does he still live nearby?" Cora asked.
Alice shook her head. "He died five years ago. Mom's gone, too. I only asked him that one time. I realized that if anyone found out what he'd done, he could be in a lot of trouble. He'd risked a lot for me. So I…let it go."
Cora understood but wished Alice had pushed a little harder for the truth. "Thank you for telling me. I wasn't prepared to learn that my father had this other life, but at least he was helping people who needed it." A sliver of doubt entered her mind. "He did just help people who needed it, didn't he?"
"I don't know," Alice said honestly. "He didn't seem like he was the kind of man to do illegal things for bad people, but I don't know."
"Did your father leave any papers behind?" Phin pressed. "Anything we can use to learn more about what Cora's father was doing? It's likely that if he offered this same service to other people, someone killed him for it. Ever since his body was discovered, Cora hasn't been safe."
Alice shook her head. "Richard and I wondered if my father left any explanations when he died. We've been through all the papers he left behind at least twice, and we've found nothing. My father was big on shredding and burning sensitive documents."
"What did your father do for a living?"
"He was a lawyer. He practiced family law until the day he died. He believed in the law until it didn't protect me. He was jaded after that. He did a lot of pro bono work for women who'd been in my shoes."
Cora managed a smile. "It was worth a try."
"Did Cora's father work alone?" Phin asked. "Did your parents maybe deal with someone other than Cora's father? It seems like a lot of details for one man to manage."
Another good question yet again. The government had an entire division of people creating new identities for the witnesses they protected.
"I don't know," Alice said. "Like I said, I only asked my father about it once and he wouldn't talk to me about it. I only interacted with the man I knew as John Robertson." She studied Cora for a long moment. "Richard and I were finally blessed with a son. We named him John Robert VanPatten, after your father."
Cora's breath hitched. "What?" she tried to ask, but the word wouldn't come out.
Alice frowned. "I'm sorry. I know that John Robertson wasn't your father's real name, but it's the name I've known him by all these years."
"Cora's brother was John Robert," Phin explained when Cora could not. "He died from cancer a year ago."
"Oh," Alice breathed. "I'm so sorry, Cora. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"No, it's okay." She breathed slowly because she felt like she was about to hyperventilate. Phin let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders.
Grounding me. "I think," she finally said, "that my father would have been very happy to hear that. And I know that John Robert would have. He was involved in charities supporting victims of domestic violence. It's like his memory will go on."
Alice smiled. "That's lovely."
Phin cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to ask this, but one more question. When did you two meet? And when did Richard learn about your background?"
Cora's mind took a minute to parse the meaning behind Phin's question, but when it did, her eyes widened. Could Richard have been involved somehow? It didn't seem possible.
Richard VanPatten didn't seem offended. "Alice is an interior decorator. I bought this house twelve years ago and hired her to redecorate. She moved in a year later and we were married the year after that. She told me all about her past and the man she knew as John Robertson before we got married." He swallowed. "I saw the photos of what her husband did to her. I've thanked God for your father every day since. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have Alice in my life. I wouldn't have a son."
"Thank you," Phin said, apology in his voice. "I'm sorry that I had to ask." He twisted around to look up at Val. "Any other questions?"
"No. You asked the ones I had. You ready to go, Cora?"
"I am. Thank you, Alice," she said sincerely. "Now we know what to look for."
Val got them out to the car and Cora slumped into the back seat, exhausted once again.
"That was not what I was expecting," she said once Val had them back on the road. Phin sat beside her, SodaPop at his feet. "Thank you both for coming with me. For asking the questions I wouldn't have thought to ask."
"Phin asked all of the good questions," Val said. "Nicely done, Phin."
Phin's cheeks became flushed. "Thank you," he mumbled.
Val laughed. "You just took a compliment without making noise about how it ‘wasn't anything special.' Progress. I'm going to call Burke." She called her boss, talking through her earpiece as she drove.
Cora leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to ignore Val's rehash of what they'd just learned. "She's right. You were really good, Phin. Thank you."
He put his arm around her shoulders. "You're welcome. Get some more sleep. I'll wake you when we get back to New Orleans."
So she leaned into his shoulder and let herself drift off to sleep, knowing down deep that this man would keep her safe.