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Kit rubbed her forehead. “Don’t carry it with you, okay? You don’t have a concealed carry permit.” She hesitated. “Do you?”
“No, I don’t, so I won’t carry it.”
Kit stilled, a thought suddenly occurring to her. “Georgia, did Frankie have a gun in his apartment?”
Georgia drew in a sharp breath. “He did. His killer took it, didn’t he?”
She, Kit corrected to herself. “Probably. I’ll add that to my list of things to check today.” She turned for the door and noticed the iron statue on the entry table. “Ladies, did either of you notice a vase in Benny’s apartment any time in the last week or so?”
The two elderly women looked at each other, then both nodded slowly. “It was tacky looking,” Eloise said. “Benny used to have a jade carving on one of his living room tables, but about a week ago the carving was gone and the vase was in its place.”
“We thought,” Georgia said faintly, “that Carla—Benny’s daughter—had taken the jade and put the vase in its place, hoping that Benny wouldn’t notice. Why? What’s the significance of the vase?”
Kit glanced at Sam. He was watching her, his green eyes sharp. “Tell them,” he said quietly. “You owe them that much.”
“All right. What I’m going to tell you doesn’t leave this room.” Both women nodded, so Kit said, “One of the participants in this crime put the vase in Benny’s room. It had a hidden camera.”
Georgia glared. “To capture the combination to his safe.”
“One of the staff did it,” Eloise said softly. “That’s what you meant by ‘they’re close.’ ”
“I’m not sure,” Kit hedged.
Georgia’s jaw tightened. “But you think so.”
Kit nodded. “Yes, I think so. I don’t know who.”
Georgia narrowed her eyes. “But you have a good idea.”
“I can’t tell you that. Not yet.”
Georgia huffed impatiently. “I hate this. I hate that someone targeted Benny’s collection, I hate that someone killed Frankie because he probably suspected it, and I hate that Benny’s gone, too. However it happened.” Her lips trembled, her voice breaking. “I hate this.”
Kit gently squeezed Georgia’s hand. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Georgia whispered, two tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. “You’re just doing your job.”
The crusty woman’s tears made Kit want to cry herself. “Sometimes I hate that I have a job to do. I’ll do my best to solve this quickly. Then…” She sighed. “Then you’ll get on with the process of finding the new normal.”
“I hate that phrase,” Eloise spat.
“So do I,” Kit said. “So, the vase. You didn’t see anyone carrying it around later?”
Both women shook their heads.
“It was too big to fit into a pocket,” Eloise said.
Georgia lifted a silver brow. “Not if it was in pieces.”
Kit looked at Sam ruefully. “I figured you were right about that last night, but I wanted to ask. I should have thought of it sooner, that the vase had been broken.”
“You might have,” Georgia said tartly, “if you’d ever get a decent night’s sleep.”
Kit’s lips twitched. “You’re probably right, Miss Georgia. I’ll do better.” Once again, she gathered her cup, plate, and silverware. “I really need to—”
The buzz of the phone in her pocket interrupted her. The caller ID made her pulse kick up. She put the dishes down because it was Alicia Batra.
“Good morning,” Kit answered, getting up and walking toward the door to keep the ladies from overhearing. Eloise was a little hard of hearing, but Georgia had told her once that her hearing was just fine. “Whatcha got for me?”
