In Death 27 - Salvation in Death

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been Quilby’s wish, to which Flores agreed, that Flores personally perform the funeral mass. He hasn’t contacted the home since he said good-bye to Quilby in July of ’53.”
    “Guy who educated you, who you make a point to visit shortly after leaving your job, dies and you don’t acknowledge it? Not very priestly. Not very human, either.” Peabody studied the photo on Eve’s board. “We need to find more people who knew Flores before he came to New York.”
    “Working on it. And I’ve got another couple angles to play. Flores’s DNA isn’t on file, but I’ve got Morris sending a sample of the vic’s to the lab. Could get lucky. Meanwhile, whether he’s Flores or Jack Shit, he’s still dead. Let’s go talk to Roberto Ortiz.”
     
    She’d assumed the funeral and its aftermath would be done. Eve found out differently when she tracked down Roberto Ortiz, and a couple hundred close friends and family, at Abuelo’s, the family restaurant.
    He was a tall, striking man who carried his eighty-plus years well on a sturdy frame. At Eve’s request to speak to him and his wife, he escorted them up to the third floor, where the noise level dropped significantly, and into a tidy parlor with colorful sofas and bold poster art.
    One of the posters sported Eve’s oldest friend and current music vid queen, Mavis, wearing what seemed to be a rainbow hue of hair extensions artfully twined over nipples and crotch, and a big smile.
    In sharp contrast, the mood screen was set on a quiet meadow under a candy blue sky.
    “We keep this apartment for family. My cousin’s granddaughter has it now. She’s in college, and helps out in the restaurant. Please sit.” When they had, he lowered himself to a chair with a long, soft sigh.
    “It’s a difficult day for you,” Eve began.
    “My father had a life. Every moment of every day, he lived. Full. He opened this restaurant when he was twenty-five years old, and named it for his grandfather. Then he became a father, and his children had children, then theirs. Family, community, church. These were his strongest loves, and strongest beliefs. The order varied,” Roberto said with a smile. “For every moment of every day for the rest of my life, I’ll miss him.”
    He sighed again. “But it’s not my father you’re here to speak of. Father Flores. May God keep him.”
    “You knew him personally?”
    “Oh, yes. He was active in the parish, in the community. He gave much of his time and energies to the youth center. My family is active there—contributes monetarily and, those who can, in time and energy as well. For this to happen, and in the church, it’s unspeakable.”
    “You and your wife were the first to arrive, with the funeral staff.”
    “Yes.” He looked over as two women and a young man came in carrying trays of food and drink. “You’ll eat,” Roberto said as plates, glasses, food were set down.
    “I brought iced tea.” The older woman, a golden blonde with hazel eyes, poured two glasses. “I’m Madda Ortiz. I’m sorry to interrupt.” She waved the other two away with an absent smile, then sat on the arm of her husband’s chair. “Please, go on.”
    “Can I just say first, this looks amazing.”
    Madda smiled at Peabody. “Enjoy.”
    “We’re sorry to intrude, Mrs. Ortiz. You and your husband were the first to arrive at the church this morning.”
    “We went to the funeral home, and then to the church with Hector. Father Flores—” She crossed herself. “And Father López met us.”
    “That would have been about eight-forty.”
    “More or less,” Roberto agreed. “We’d only just arrived and begun to transfer the flowers into the church.”
    “Did you see anyone else at that time?”
    “Some began to arrive soon after—to help. My uncles as well, with my cousins to help them.”
    “Did you notice anyone go into the anteroom?”
    “Fathers Flores and López, of course, to put on their vestments for the service. Ah, my granddaughter,

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