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“How can I help you?” he asked, hearing the stiffness in his voice.
Kit’s expression softened slightly. “Kent Crawford is dead.”
Sam stared at her, the words not immediately registering. Then they did and he fumbled for words. “You mean Shady Oaks’s head of security? That Kent Crawford?”
She nodded. “His body was found in a motel room this morning. He’d been dead at least a couple days.”
“Oh my God.” That Kit and Connor were investigating meant it had been a homicide. Two murdered bodies found in the same day couldn’t be a coincidence. Kent’s death had to be connected to Frankie’s. “When?”
“Two days ago,” she replied. “Maybe three.”
“How?”
“Gunshot wound. It was supposed to look like a suicide,” Connor said quietly.
Sam closed his eyes, trying to take that in. Kent is dead. Just like Frankie. “Do faked suicides happen often? Or only when I’m involved?” Because the last case he’d worked with Kit had featured a faked suicide.
Kit sighed. “More often than we probably know. How well did you know Mr. Crawford?”
Sam blinked hard, then scrubbed his hands over his face and concentrated. Kit was here when she’d avoided him for six months. This was important. “Not all that well. I didn’t spend much time with him.”
“On purpose?” Kit asked. “Or your paths didn’t cross?”
Sam blew out a breath. “Both. But I didn’t really trust him. Neither did Frankie.”
Connor tilted his head. “Why not?”
Sam shrugged. “Little things. Kent was kind of a blowhard. He liked to brag about his athletic prowess. How he played college football and could have gone pro if he hadn’t decided to join the military and ‘serve his country.’ ” Sam used air quotes. “He was always talking about having served his country. And I suppose he did, but I’ve known a lot of people who served and didn’t bring it up in every conversation.”
“He was a braggart,” Connor said. “What else?”
Sam hesitated, unsure if he should share what he and Frankie had suspected. He didn’t know if it was true, and if it wasn’t, it could hurt Crawford’s widow.
“Sam?” Kit murmured.
Sam jerked his gaze to hers. She hadn’t called him by his first name in a long time. But she hadn’t intended to. He could see the blush on her cheeks. And the surprise in her eyes before she looked away.
He shifted his gaze to Connor. “Frankie thought that Kent was cheating on his wife. That was something Frankie couldn’t condone—and neither could I. Knowing that made us mistrust his judgment on other things.”
“Like?” Connor pressed.
“Like the security system he had installed. It was so complicated that the night guards had trouble using it, which resulted in two patients in the memory wing leaving the grounds unattended in the past six months. Frankie thought the security system was too expensive, that it was a waste of money. Especially since it didn’t work well. Frankie suspected that there was some palm-greasing going on.”
Both Kit and Connor looked surprised at this. “How did Frankie know what it cost?”
Sam shrugged. “He asked the installers. People told Frankie things.”
“Is Shady Oaks having financial problems?” Kit asked.
“Not that I know of. Frankie was irritated more on principle. Any money spent on expensive, unnecessary things was money that wasn’t being invested on behalf of the residents. Frankie traveled when Ryan was alive, but generally he was careful with money. He expected Shady Oaks to be careful with the residents’ money, too. They pay in for life and need the funds to be available for their care when they need it.”
“Did Mr. Flynn tell anyone what he suspected?” Kit asked. “Other than you?”
“He tried to tell Miss Evans, but the director said he was clearly out of his element. That he should stick to antiques.” Sam’s lips curved sadly. “Finding out he was a cop makes Frankie’s suspicions about Kent make a lot more sense.”
Connor’s eyes had widened. “How did you know Mr. Flynn was a cop?”
Kit was looking at him again, gaze shrewd. “Did you know before today?”
