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“But?” Vanessa said acidly.
“But,” Kit said calmly, “Mr. Flynn is dead, and he was clearly murdered.”
Vanessa’s face fell. “I know. Uncle Frankie was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die that way.”
“I agree,” Kit said. “Were you aware that the head of security was also killed, about three days ago?”
They nodded. “But that has nothing to do with my father,” Carla said, her chin lifting.
“Maybe you’re right,” Kit said softly. “But what if you’re wrong? Yesterday, Mr. Dreyfus was heard saying that Mr. Flynn’s death was all his fault. Now, give me a minute,” she hurried on because Vanessa’s eyes flashed fire and Carla looked ready to shout. “I don’t believe for a moment that Mr. Dreyfus killed him. People say ‘it’s all my fault’ all the time, for a variety of reasons.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “My sister was murdered when we were fifteen, and I blamed myself, like I could have stopped it if I’d been with her.”
Sam’s chest hurt anew. Oh, Kit.
Both Vanessa and her mother were listening now, so Kit went on.
“Mr. Dreyfus had some reason for expressing feelings of responsibility. He may have known something. He might not have even known that he knew it. We didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him yesterday. And this morning, he’s dead. So, again, what if you’re wrong? What if Mr. Dreyfus’s death is connected? Wouldn’t you want whoever hurt him punished?”
Both women hesitated. Then Vanessa’s husband spoke up. “What do you think, Georgia? You spent the most time with him.”
Georgia blinked, surprised. “Um…Well, I think the detective has a point, but I know that Benny wouldn’t have wanted an invasive autopsy.”
Kit tensed, poised to argue her point.
Sam broke in, knowing that Benny’s family wasn’t going to budge on their own. Kit and Connor could appeal Benny’s Certificate of Religious Beliefs, but that would take time and Frankie’s killer was still out there. “Detective, is there any way to get the information you need without…” He winced. “Cutting him?”
Kit smiled at him gratefully. “Yes, Dr. Reeves, there is. This is what I propose. Let the medical examiner draw some blood. We can test it, holding Mr. Dreyfus’s remains in the meantime. If something looks suspicious, we can proceed.”
Benny’s family still looked unwilling, so Sam pressed forward. “I’ve read that in situations like this, a rabbi has been known to attend the procedure to ensure the remains are…you know. Respected. Put back the way that they were. Can you promise that, Detective, if a full autopsy is required?”
Kit’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, Dr. Reeves. We can. I’ll personally make sure of it.”
“We might be willing to do that,” Carla said slowly.
“Thank you,” Connor said. “We do ask that you refrain from discussing this with anyone. Not the press, not the administrative staff, the nurses, not anyone.”
Georgia, Carla, Vanessa, and her husband all gaped.
“What?” Georgia demanded. “Are you saying the staff was involved?”
“No, ma’am,” Connor said firmly, his tone managing to calm the drama before it exploded. “But one of the staff is dead, and Mr. Flynn was killed the very next day. Something connects them and until we find out what it is, it’s our responsibility to keep this investigation as private as possible. I’d like to suggest that I ride with the mortuary representatives, transporting Mr. Dreyfus’s remains to the county morgue. Nothing more invasive will be done until the blood tests come back. That will take a few days, though, and I’m aware that you’d ordinarily want the burial to occur within twenty-four hours.”
Carla gazed down at her father’s face, sorrow etched into hers. “He’d want to help catch whoever killed Frankie. I know that. I still believe his heart simply failed, but let’s follow this through. At least with the blood tests. We have family and friends all over the country that will want to attend the funeral. All of them won’t be able to get here until Thursday or Friday. We wouldn’t do the funeral on Friday anyway, because of the Sabbath. Saturday either. So you have until Sunday, Detective. That’s all the time I can give you.”
Kit opened her mouth, then closed it, hesitating before finally nodding. “I’ll get those blood tests ordered right away. For now, behave as if the funeral home took his body and…” She smiled dryly. “You can even gloat about how you got the cops to back down.”
Vanessa’s lips twitched. “Grandfather would love that. He looked like a nerd, but he was a real rebel.”
Carla turned to fully face Kit and Connor. “You know that Frankie was once a homicide detective, yes?”
Kit nodded. “Yes. I met him once, many years ago. Before I was a cop. I recognized him yesterday morning.”
“And,” Connor added, “Mr. Flynn was greatly respected.”
Carla frowned. “Not all that respected. He couldn’t come out while he was a cop.”
“I know,” Kit murmured. “I hate that that was the case for him.”
Carla studied Kit’s face, then Connor’s. “All right. Let’s proceed as you’ve suggested. If you’ll respect my father like you seem to respect Frankie, we’ll have no quarrel with you.”
