Chapter 24

24

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 4:00 P.M.

VAL PULLED OUT OF THE fast-food parking lot, heading back to New Orleans. They'd missed lunch, and Cora had been starving. Stone and Delores had stuck behind them like glue, Stone sending Phin a flurry of texts as they'd sat in the drive-through line.

Delores had apparently brought him up to speed with what had been shared inside the motel room, and Stone had questions. From all the texts pinging Phin's phone, the man had a lot of questions. Cora had wanted to ask Phin what those questions were, especially when, in the middle of the drive-through line, Delores and Stone had changed places in their minivan, Delores taking the wheel.

Stone was up to something. Cora could wait to learn what it was. Right now, she was mentally exhausted.

At least the food had helped. Her headache was gone.

Listening to the Caulfields' story had been hard. Knowing her father had trafficked a baby was even harder. Ashley had gotten lucky. The Caulfields were good people.

Another couple might not have treated her so well.

Val eyed Cora and Phin in the rearview mirror. "We need to figure out what we're going to tell Detective Clancy."

Cora had been thinking the same thing. "I don't know how to tell him anything without revealing what my father was doing. People like Alice VanPatten just wanted to be safe. And the Caulfields thought they were doing a legal private adoption."

"Maybe," Phin said. "They might have wanted to believe that it was an ordinary private adoption, but they got the baby delivered to them in the wee hours of the morning. And what if the mother of the baby didn't give her up willingly? That would be kidnapping."

"Then whoever wanted to place the child needs to be punished. How can we find out if the mother was willing?"

"We find the mother," Phin said. "And then we ask her."

"Wait," Val said. "No, we don't find the mother. We let Detective Clancy take it from here."

"And tell him what?" Cora demanded. "Arrest Alan Beauchamp because a couple we aren't supposed to know about, who basically bought a baby, said that his grandson told them that someone was coming to kill them?"

"We can tell him to arrest Patrick for murder," Val said. "Old paint, guys. Old freaking paint."

Cora's headache was coming back. "Look, Detective Goddard in Houma knows about the paint. He's shared the lab results with Clancy. Clancy knows he's looking for an art restorer who has some connection to me. If he comes up with Patrick's name on his own, fine. But if we tell him now, we're going to have to tell him about the partnership and the eraser stuff. Which leads them to Alice VanPatten and the others who legitimately needed help."

Val huffed out a frustrated breath. "Goddammit. I hate that you're right. Let's find the mother of that baby, then."

"We might have some leads," Phin said, showing his phone. There, on his screen, was a photo of Reverend Alan Beauchamp. He was smiling and congenial, his arm around a much younger woman. The caption said that she was his wife, Lexy.

"Unlike you, Cora," he said, "Alan Beauchamp has a lot of personal information on the internet. First of all, he has no siblings. He's an only child. So Ashley's biological mother was not his sister. He has three children, though, from his first marriage. Wife number one—Anna—died in a car accident. Their oldest son, Alan Jr., is deceased. He also died in a car accident. He was Sage's father. Alan's middle child is Walton Beauchamp, a decorated colonel in the army. He's served several tours and is currently stationed in Colorado. Alan's youngest child is a daughter, Jennifer. She's most likely Ashley's mother. She would have been fifteen at the time of Ashley's birth." He swiped on his phone. "Here's an article about her from—surprise, surprise—twenty-three years ago, a few weeks after Ashley was born. There's no mention of a pregnancy or birth. The article says that Jennifer took an overdose of drugs. They found her in time to save her life, but she didn't fully recover. She was hospitalized for schizophrenia shortly after the overdose. Her father blamed the schizophrenia on the overdose."

Cora frowned. "But a drug overdose doesn't cause schizophrenia. It can make schizophrenia worse if it already exists, but there's no causal relationship."

Phin shrugged. "Facts apparently didn't matter to Alan. He used the overdose to bring attention to the issue of teenagers and drugs. He raised money off the cautionary tale of his daughter's ‘sin' and funded a new drug rehab ministry. His church still runs it to this day."

"What happened to Jennifer?" Val asked.

"Stone's checking it out," Phin said. "He's got contacts."

Cora raised her brows. "What kinds of contacts?"

"Probably the kind we don't ask about," Val said. "Like Antoine's computer searches. Just say please and thank you, and don't ask the details. It's like not asking what goes into sausage."

"Exactly," Phin said. "He's checking the psychiatric hospitals now to see where she might have been admitted. It'll take him some time, but he'll figure out where she is."

"He should pair up with Antoine," Val said.

"He already has." Phin shook his head. "They've worked together in the past."

"I keep forgetting they were friends first," Val said, "before you came into the picture, Phin. I think we should be afraid if those two have joined forces."

"Very afraid," Phin agreed.

"We need to call Joy," Cora said unexpectedly.

"She's good," Val said. "I visited her this morning. They're going to keep her another few days, but she's mending well."

"No. I mean, good that she's better, but that's not what I wanted to ask her. She heard the voice of the man who shot her, remember? Phin found Sage Beauchamp on the church's website and I've seen him on TV commercials for the church. He's about the same size as the man who chased me—and the man who shot Joy."

"Cora," Val breathed. "Burke really does need to hire you."

"He really does," Phin agreed.

"We should get a clip of him speaking," Cora said, pleased at the praise, but she'd be happy when she could go back to the library. This PI life was not for her. "Maybe Joy can ID his voice."

"Find one and send it to Joy's kids," Val directed. "One of them will get her to listen to it. If Sage was the intruder who shot Joy, he is an important connection to Alan Beauchamp. Alan knew Medford Hughes. He lied about him to get us to investigate Medford for a crime he likely didn't do, if what André told Antoine is correct. And André is usually right about these things."

"Reverend Beauchamp specifically asked if Sara Morton had her brother-in-law's laptop." Cora thought about that moment the night before. "Why would he lie about something that the police might be able to challenge—if they had the laptop, of course."

"But they don't have the laptop," Val said. "Clancy said they didn't collect Hughes's computers, only the laptops that were stolen from us, which struck him as odd. That a guy who did network stuff for a living didn't have a single computer in his house."

Cora forced her brain to focus on Medford Hughes's laptop. "Is it too huge a leap to assume that Beauchamp had the computer himself or he knew where it was?"

"I don't know," Val said. "Keep going."

"Well, if he was so confident to make a claim that could be disproven if the police had Medford's computer, I think it makes sense that he knows that the police don't have it. He'd be certain of this if he had it himself. If he does have Medford's computer, he had to have taken it from Medford Hughes or from his house. Is it possible that he killed Medford Hughes and took whatever was in the trunk of Hughes's car?"

"I think that's very possible," Val said. "That would mean that our computers that were found in the back of Hughes's car were put there by Beauchamp. Maybe he asked Hughes to break into them. And, if Beauchamp had our laptops, he might have gotten them from Sage, which means he's the one who shot Joy and chased you. We really need a video clip for Joy."

"Found it while you were weaving in the loose threads," Phin said. "Sage's job on Sundays is to welcome visitors from the pulpit, deliver the church announcements, and then introduce his grandfather for the sermon. Listen. He's recorded every week." He hit play.

Cora leaned over his arm to watch the video he'd found. Sage stood in front of the pulpit in a massively large auditorium, his golden hair shining under the lights. He was smiling and joking. He had the audience laughing and turning to welcome the person standing next to them.

Sage was engaging and charismatic.

He'd also warned the Caulfields to run.

But he might have shot Joy. And chased me through the Quarter.

"He was only two years old when my father was killed."

"True," Phin said, "but his grandfather keeps him close. Who better to send out for information than a family member who you trust?"

"Could he have been the one following us?" she asked. "Maybe watching us from his car down the street from my house? Maybe even involved with Vincent Ray breaking in to burn my house down?"

"We'd have to see how Sage Beauchamp and Vincent Ray might connect," Val said logically. "We do know that it's possible for Patrick and Vincent to have crossed paths."

Cora pressed her fingers to her temples. "Could Patrick, Alan, and Sage be working together?"

Phin gently tugged her fingers from her brow and began massaging her temples with a pressure that was just right. Cora nearly moaned with relief.

"They might be," he said. "But let's focus on one connection at a time. Sage and Joy. Let's get Joy to listen to this clip. You call one of her kids and tell me who to text the clip to."

He stopped rubbing her forehead and Cora wanted to pout. But he was right. One connection at a time.

Cora called Nala, Joy's oldest. "Hey, it's Cora. Are you with your mother?"

"I am," Nala said. "What's up?"

"Phin's going to text you a video clip. Don't show it to your mother. Just have her listen to the man's voice. Ask her if it's familiar."

Phin fired off a text with a link to the video and then they waited.

"Cora," Nala said warily. "This clip is of a preacher's grandson."

"I know. Just have her listen."

"Okay, fine. I'll call you right back."

Phin held Cora's hand while they waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, Nala called them back.

"That's the guy, which is wild, Cora Jane. He's the one who shot her. Mama's absolutely sure. She said that he sounded familiar at the time and now she knows why. She's seen him on the TV ads for his grandfather's church. How the hell did you arrive at this?"

"Long story," Cora said. "I'll tell you later. Can you let Detective Clancy know that your mother ID'd Sage Beauchamp as her attacker? Don't tell them it came from us. Just say she saw him on TV."

"I can do that. I'll call the detective right now. Mama says you two better come back to visit her or you'll be sorry."

Cora smiled. "Tell her that we'll come as soon as we get a chance to breathe."

"Keep breathing," Nala said, with all seriousness. "Do not do anything dangerous."

"I won't. I promise. Bye now." Cora ended the call and wanted to crow. "Now we just need to find Jennifer Beauchamp. I wonder if her remaining brother knows where she is." She grimaced. "I wonder who's the father of her child—one of her brothers or her father."

"If it's the oldest brother, he's dead," Phin said. "At this point, we wait for Antoine and Stone to come up with a location for Jennifer Beauchamp. Now, I think you should rest. You've had a hard few days."

Cora wasn't even going to argue. "Wake me up if something happens."

Phin kissed her, slow and sweet. "I will."

Ponchatoula, Louisiana

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 5:50 P.M.

"You should wake her up," Val told Phin from the driver's seat. "We'll be there in ten minutes."

"I know." But Phin hated to wake Cora. She'd been sleeping so peacefully in the back seat of the company SUV, her head on his thigh. He ran his fingers through her hair before giving her shoulder a gentle shake.

"Cora, honey, wake up," he said quietly. "We're almost there."

She'd slept so soundly, not even Phin's phone calls to Stone or Val's to Antoine had disturbed her. She slowly blinked awake, staring at him for a moment before her vision seemed to focus.

"Almost where?" she asked sleepily, and Phin wished they were in her bed. He loved sleepy Cora.

"The Glendale Psychiatric Hospital," he said, and her eyes blinked wide open.

"What?" She sat up, her hair falling in her face. "Why?"

Phin brushed her hair back. "Antoine found the police report from Jennifer Beauchamp's drug overdose. He asked André to contact the cop who'd filed the report. The guy is retired now but remembered that Jennifer was admitted to Glendale. Stone and Antoine did some more digging and found out that she never left."

Cora's mouth bent in a sad frown. "She's been there for twenty-three years?"

"Seems like," Phin said. "And I called one of my old army contacts to track down the middle brother's military record. Guess when Walton Beauchamp enlisted?"

Cora sighed. "Twenty-three years ago?"

"Bingo," Phin said. "Six months before Ashley's birthdate. He was only seventeen, so he needed parental permission to join. It was an odd arrangement. He dropped out of high school, got his GED, then joined up. There was no waiting period. He entered boot camp the following week."

"They got rid of him," Cora said. "That's one way to keep him from his sister. Unless it was the older brother?"

"It's possible," Phin allowed. "That brother was Sage's father. He was married at the time and living in Mobile. He and his wife divorced—guess when?"

"Twenty-three years ago," Cora said wearily.

"Yep. I found the record of the divorce decree—irreconcilable differences—and the timing was just too convenient. It's possible that she found out that her husband had fathered the child. We may not be allowed to see Jennifer. But we can try. Best case we find out who fathered her child and if she surrendered her child willingly. That's something we can give to Detective Clancy. If the Caulfields did participate in an illegal adoption, it's unlikely that they'll be prosecuted because the statute of limitations ran out long ago. They're the best case to present to the police because their adoption of Ashley is directly linked to your father's death. You wouldn't have to reveal any of his other clients like Alice VanPatten."

Val's GPS directed her to turn into the psychiatric hospital and Phin's gut tightened. It looked like the VA hospital he'd spent too much time in.

Cora noticed his sudden stress. So did SodaPop. The dog shoved her muzzle into his hand. Cora cupped his face in her palms.

"You don't have to go inside. Val can go in with me."

Val parked the car, saying nothing. It would be Phin's choice.

"I'll go in. If I have to leave, I know where the SUV is parked. I don't want you to do this alone."

Cora pulled his head down and kissed him. "Thank you."

He kissed her back, losing himself in the moment until Val cleared her throat. "Guys, please."

Phin rolled his eyes. "Like you and Kaj didn't do this all the time."

"And you said, ‘Guys, please,'?" Val shot back.

Phin didn't remember that happening, but he wasn't going to argue. "Let me walk SodaPop. She's been cooped up most of the day."

"She's probably hungry and thirsty, too," Cora said as she slid out of the SUV behind him.

"I fed and watered her while you were sleeping." He took SodaPop to a patch of grass. "Potty time."

It was her signal to go. She was exceptionally well trained.

When his good girl was finished, they joined Cora and Val, who were waiting at the SUV. Val gave him the keys. "In case you need a break."

He hated that he might actually need to take her up on it, but he took the keys nonetheless and together they entered the hospital's front doors.

Phin hated hospitals, but he was calmer than he'd expected to be. Cora had one of his hands and SodaPop was pressed to his leg on the opposite side.

Thank you, Delores. Her gift had given him a freedom he'd only dreamed of.

A woman in scrubs looked up when they approached the front desk. "Can I help you?"

"We'd like to visit Jennifer Beauchamp," Cora said with a smile. "I hope we're still in time for visiting hours."

"You are," the woman said. "Are you family?"

"No, ma'am, but we are friends of her family."

Not a lie, Phin thought. Ashley was Jennifer's family, whether Jennifer wished it to be so or not. He hoped that surrendering her child for a private adoption had been her idea. Or at least that she'd agreed.

"You have good timing. She's pretty lucid today. But if you upset her, you'll have to leave."

"We understand," Cora said. "We just want to drop in and say hey."

Hey and a lot of other things. But again, Cora hadn't lied.

They were given directions to Jennifer's room, where they found a gray-haired woman sitting on a sofa, watching television with a nurse's aide. The woman looked far older than the thirty-eight years old that Jennifer would be by now.

The aide, a young woman of about twenty, looked up in stunned surprise.

"Visitors?" she said. "We don't get visitors."

Jennifer stared at them for a long moment before returning her attention back to the television.

Cora smiled at them. "Just not often or ever?"

"Ever," the aide said. "Or at least since I've been Jenny's aide. That's been two years. The aide before me said the same thing."

So this really was Jennifer. She looked like she was sixty years old.

Phin really hated Alan Beauchamp. Not only had the man lied to distract them into investigating a fake lead, he'd ignored his daughter for years.

Like you ignored your family for years?

Phin inwardly winced. It was a different situation, true. But, yeah, he'd ignored his family, too. When this was over, he was going straight home. He was going to make this right if it was the last thing he did.

Maybe Cora would come with him. Her hand in his was a comfort.

And his mother would love her.

Cora squeezed his hand before releasing him and sitting next to Jennifer on the sofa. "Hi, Jenny. I'm Cora."

Jennifer didn't look away from the television. "You have a dog."

"We do. Her name's SodaPop. She's my friend Phin's service dog."

"Why?" Jennifer asked.

Cora tilted her head. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why does Phin have a service dog?"

"Because I get anxious," Phin said. "I can't stop it, and it's not fun."

Jenny nodded. "Dogs are good."

"They are," he agreed.

They were quiet for a few heartbeats, waiting. For what, Phin wasn't sure.

Finally, Cora said, "Jenny, we wanted to talk to you about something that happened to you a long time ago. Right before you came here."

The aide's eyes widened, but she held her tongue. For the moment anyway. Phin was expecting her to call for security any minute, but she didn't.

"Long time," Jenny agreed. She sighed quietly. "Such a long time."

Cora's expression was pained before she regained her composure, her lips curving in a kind smile. "I met your daughter today," she said softly.

Jenny's head swung around, her eyes narrowed. "You see ghosts?"

Cora, to her credit, didn't flinch at the sudden movement. "No, Jenny. She's real. Not a ghost."

Jenny shook her head. "She can't be," she said flatly. "She's dead."

Cora took a little longer to wipe the pain from her face this time. "Who told you that?"

Jenny turned back to the television. "Father. He said she died." She held her chin high, but two tears rolled down her cheeks. "My baby died."

Cora met Phin's eyes, hers sad and uncertain.

Phin went down on one knee in front of Jenny. He knew that the woman was aware of his presence. Her jaw clenched as she gazed steadfastly ahead.

The aide was watching in fascination.

Phin hoped they were doing the right thing.

"Your father didn't tell you the truth," Phin said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Jenny shook her head, her eyes fixed on the television. "No."

SodaPop squeezed between them, one side pressed into Phin's bent knee, the other into Jenny's legs. Phin stroked her back. "Good girl," he murmured.

"She is a good girl," Jenny said, but she made no move to touch SodaPop. "I like dogs. She's working, though."

"She is. Thank you for not distracting her from her job."

"She's warm," Jenny whispered.

"She is." Phin hesitated, then sighed. "Jenny, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but…do you remember the father of your baby?"

Jenny froze, her only movement the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She closed her eyes as two more tears slid down her cheeks.

After what seemed like a lifetime, she nodded. "He's gone."

"Dead?" Phin asked, because gone could mean different things.

"No. Sent away. Like me."

So she knew she'd been sent away. New rage bubbled in Phin's gut, but he kept his voice gentle. Kept his fingers in SodaPop's coat. "Why, Jenny? Why was he sent away?"

A slight shrug. "Father said Walton sinned. Like me."

Not Alan or Alan Jr., then. It had been the younger brother, who was now an army colonel. Sonofabitch.

Alan Beauchamp had known. He'd sent the brother into the army and the daughter to a psychiatric hospital.

Phin drew a breath. "But you didn't sin, did you, Jenny?"

Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Father said I did."

The aide's face crumpled. "Oh, Jenny. I'm sorry."

Another shrug. "Why? I sinned, not you. I don't like this show. Turn the channel, please."

The aide scrambled to comply. "How about the dog show, the one with puppies?"

"Yes. I like that one." One side of her mouth lifted in what might have been an attempt at a smile. "SodaPop likes it, too."

Phin chuckled softly. "She does. She was raised with dogs in a shelter, so she likes other dogs."

Jenny lowered her gaze to study SodaPop. "Why?"

"Why was she raised in a shelter?" Phin asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"My friend runs the shelter. She takes care of the dogs. She said that SodaPop was left at the dog pound as a puppy. Her old owner didn't want her."

Jenny's expression softened. "Poor SodaPop. Nobody wanted her."

"But my friend Delores wanted her," Phin said. " I want her. I love her."

Jenny splayed her hand over her stomach. "I wanted her. But she died."

Phin wanted to correct her, but Jenny seemed so fragile that he was afraid to. "I'm sorry, Jenny," he whispered instead. Because he was. So damned sorry for this woman who'd been locked away, abandoned by her family, by the very people who were supposed to love her no matter what.

The way your family loves you. They'd loved him even when he'd been too messed up to understand why.

But it didn't matter why they loved him. They just did.

His eyes burned and he had to draw in a breath. "Thank you for visiting with us, Jenny."

Jenny nodded once before turning to Cora, who still sat on the sofa beside her. "He's your friend?"

"Yes," Cora said. "He's a good friend. A good man."

Jenny's gaze was intensely focused. "Keep him."

Cora smiled gently. "I plan to. Would you like me to come back? Visit with you again?"

Jenny turned back to the television. "Do you have a dog?"

Cora laughed. "I do. His name is Blue. But he's pretty old. Do I have to bring a dog to come back to see you?"

Jenny did that little half smile again. "Yes."

"I have a dog," the nurse's aide said. "His name's Trouble, because he's always getting into trouble."

"Bring him," Jenny instructed. "Please."

The aide grinned. "I will. I promise."

"Excuse me?" A woman stood in the doorway, her neat pantsuit marking her as administration versus a nurse or an aide. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting," Cora said calmly.

"They are friends," Jenny said, focused again on the television where puppies cavorted. "Go away, Mrs. Collinsworth."

"I'm afraid visiting hours are over," Mrs. Collinsworth said with a painfully fake smile. "Your friends will have to come back later."

"With a dog," Jenny said.

"With a dog," Cora promised.

Phin held his hand out to Jenny. "Thank you."

She took his hand without looking at him. "You're welcome. I hope your dog helps you for a long time."

Phin gave SodaPop an affectionate stroke down her back. "I hope so, too."

The three of them started to leave, Val slipping the aide her business card. The aide's eyes widened at Broussard Investigations , and she pocketed it with a slight nod.

They were to the door when Jenny's voice stopped them in their tracks. "She cried, Phin."

Phin turned, ignoring the Collinsworth woman who was ordering them to get out. He went back to the sofa, kneeling in front of Jenny once again, the woman's gaze fixed straight ahead. She was looking at the television, but Phin didn't think she was seeing it. "She cried?"

"My baby. She cried. My father said she was born dead, but I heard her cry." She dropped her gaze to Phin's, her expression steely. "He said I was wrong, but I know I heard her. I told everyone that I heard her and they said I was crazy."

Phin didn't look away. "They lied," he whispered. "You're not crazy."

Jenny nodded soberly. "Thank you."

"You need to leave now," Mrs. Collinsworth said loudly. "Or I'm calling the police."

Jenny rolled her eyes, surprising him. "Come back. Please."

"I will," Phin promised, then briefly squeezed Jenny's hand. "Enjoy the puppies."

"I will."

Phin rose and met Cora and Val at the door. "We'll go," he said to Collinsworth. "No need to call the police."

The woman's eyes were angry. "You are not allowed to be here. The family wishes Jenny to have her privacy and now you've upset her. Do not come back. I'll escort you to the door."

She did just that, making a grand gesture as she waved them out.

Phin stopped walking once he was outside. His stomach hurt. His heart hurt.

"Her brother," he said.

Val sighed. "Yes. I recorded the whole thing. I think Reverend Beauchamp has quite a few things to explain." She rubbed Phin's upper arm comfortingly. "You were so good with her, Phin. So patient."

"She's all alone," Phin said. "I know how she feels. Except she was forced and I chose it."

Cora stepped in front of him, giving his shirt collar a little yank so that he looked down at her. "That is not true. Your brain lied to you, Phin. Told you that you weren't good enough. It's normal to believe your brain. You weren't in the right place mentally or emotionally to make those choices. Now you are, so what you do now is important. Your family will understand that. They will respect that. Or they will answer to me."

Phin could only stare at her. Then her words sank in and his chest filled with warmth and he could breathe again. He leaned in and kissed her and she smiled against his lips.

"Good answer," she said when he pulled away. "Are you ready to talk to Detective Clancy?"

"Yeah. Let's give the man a collar."

"Let's go to his office. I'd prefer not to have him in my house again. Not until I have a chance to make sure that my father's client list is properly hidden."

"He's going to want to know about it," Phin said. "He's going to want to know how we found the Caulfields."

Cora shrugged. "We'll tell him the truth. We'll tell him that we found my father's notes about his side business and a note on his final job that he left for my mother to find because he didn't trust his partner. We'll give him access to my father's old computer after Antoine makes sure the client list is no longer accessible."

Phin kissed the tip of her nose. "You really do fit in with this crowd, telling a lie without actually telling a lie."

Cora looked pleased with herself. "Thank you."

Val laughed as she unlocked the SUV. "Get in and buckle up."