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Miss Eloise patted his cheek. “Take a break, Sammy. Go see if she needs anything.”
“No, ma’am. She won’t want me around when she’s working.” Or when she’s not. She’d run the night before. As soon as Rita’s adoption dinner had finished, Kit had given the teenager a hug and fled, claiming that she had to work.
“Nonsense. I know what I saw. Go.” Eloise lifted brows that she’d dyed blue to match her hair. “Or I’ll start to sing. Not an empty promise.”
Sam laughed, a broken sound. “Okay, Miss Eloise. You twisted my arm.”
Eloise sobered. “Georgia will need you.”
Sam nodded, taking another deep breath. “I know. I’ll be back, okay?” He dropped a kiss on her cheek, making her grin lopsidedly. “Thank you.”
“Tell that detective that she might have competition,” Eloise said, fluffing her blue hair.
“I will.” He pulled the fallboard over the keys and stacked his music. He never really used it because he knew the songs by heart, but sometimes the residents liked to read the lyrics over his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”
Sam had expected it to be somberly quiet when he exited the elevator on the upper floor, but ardent arguing met his ears.
He recognized one of the voices. Vanessa, Benny’s granddaughter. She was a nice woman, about Sam’s age, who visited Benny often, usually bringing Benny’s great-grandchildren. But she sounded angry at the moment.
“He had a heart attack, Detective,” Vanessa shouted. “There is no need for an autopsy. He wouldn’t have wanted that. We’re Jewish.”
Benny’s apartment door was open, so Sam went in. Two dark-suited men that Sam didn’t know stood in the living room with a gurney. One of them grimaced. “We’re from the funeral home. The cops and the family are in the bedroom, disagreeing.”
Sam gave them a tight smile before pausing in the bedroom doorway. There were too many people in Benny’s small room. Kit and Connor were there, along with Vanessa and her husband. Vanessa’s mother Carla sat at the side of the bed, quietly crying, holding her father’s hand, cold by now.
Miss Evans stood off to the side, looking like she wanted to bash some heads. Probably Kit’s and Connor’s.
Georgia stood sentry on the other side of Benny’s bed, unmoving. She resembled a statue, her expression grim. Except for her eyes, which were devastated and red-rimmed.
Benny lay on his bed, his skin now gray. He wasn’t wearing a bow tie or a yarmulke now and never would again. Sam’s chest tightened and it hurt to breathe.
I’m so sorry, Benny.
“It was natural causes, Detective McKittrick,” Miss Evans said. “He had a documented heart condition. He was eighty-nine years old. Why are you upsetting the family?”
Kit exhaled, her expression professional, her voice calm. “I’m sorry. I really am. But two people connected with Shady Oaks have been murdered in the last seventy-two hours, and one of them was Benny’s closest friend and confidant. We need to be sure Mr. Dreyfus died of natural causes.”
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears. “My grandfather would not have wanted this. Miss Evans, isn’t there something we can do?”
The director hesitated. “You can file an appeal.”
“We don’t need to,” Carla said with quiet authority. “My father signed documents to ensure no autopsy would be done. The original is in his safe-deposit box. I have a copy right here.” She drew a sheet of paper from her purse and handed it to Miss Evans. “His Certificate of Religious Belief. Signed and notarized—long before the dementia began, Detective. You may not autopsy him.”
“It’s legal, Detective,” Miss Evans said, sounding relieved that the argument was settled.
Kit rubbed her forehead, looking suddenly weary. “Miss Evans, I’d like a moment with the family, please. Alone.” Miss Evans opened her mouth to object, but Kit held up a hand. “Please, Miss Evans.”
Miss Evans shot Kit an icy glare. “Of course, Detective. I’ll be downstairs in my office.” She turned, her eyes widening when she saw Sam. “Dr. Reeves. Why are you here?”
“I thought the family might need me.”
Vanessa smiled weakly. “Thank you, Dr. Sam. I’d like him to stay, Detective.”
Kit nodded. “If that would make you more comfortable. Dr. Reeves, can you first escort Miss Evans and the two men from the funeral home into the corridor outside Mr. Dreyfus’s apartment?”
Sam did as she asked, Miss Evans’s displeasure evident to everyone. The two men from the funeral home took the gurney out into the corridor. “Just wait here,” Sam told them, then shut the front door and returned to the bedroom.
“Come in and close the door, Dr. Reeves,” Kit requested. She glanced down at Benny’s body, her gaze lingering on his face. When she lifted her eyes, they were filled with genuine sadness. “First, I am very sorry for your loss. I never met Mr. Dreyfus, but I’ve heard so many lovely things about him. Second, I want to respect your traditions and religious beliefs. I truly do.”
