Free Blood Ties in Chef Voleur by Mallory Kane

what’s going on?” Haymore said when Jack answered the phone.
    “Nothing much. What’s up?”
    “You enjoying married life?”
    Jack winced. He’d had to tell Haymore some of his plan, and their contract included a severe non-disclosure agreement, but damn it, he didn’t have to listen to the man’s ribbing. “Did you have something for me?”
    “Yeah.” The investigator’s voice took on a professional tone. “I’ve got a buddy on the Chef Voleur Police Force that’s—”
    “Whoa. You can’t go messing with them. I told you, a bunch of the Delanceys are police officers or detectives—at least two of them, twins, are in Chef Voleur—and they’re not stupid, not by a long shot. If you screw this up, man, there is nowhere in the world that you’ll be able to get another job.”
    “Listen, I know what I’m doing, and this guy is a sergeant. He’s a good guy and he never liked Con Delancey. He knows the two officers—as he calls them, the Delancey Bobbsey Twins—and there’s no love lost there, either. He was happy to take a look at this case’s evidence file for me.”
    “The evidence file?” Jack was interested in spite of his concern over Haymore taking unnecessary chances.
    “Yeah. He said there are unused samples of blood in there. Said if you could get an order for DNA, you might find out something that would help exonerate your grandfather.”
    “Blood,” Jack repeated thoughtfully. He thought about the implications of having blood samples from twenty-eight years ago. That was before DNA sampling was widely understood or affordable for anyone but the government. Today was a completely different story. DNA could be used to identify someone to a one in many, many billions of accuracy.
    “Okay. That could be promising. But Greg, I want you to sit on that for now. And please—I just hope your source is as trustworthy as you think he is.”
    “Oh, he’s good. His name is—”
    “No. I don’t want to know his name. Just make sure that nobody, and I mean nobody else knows about this. I’ll let you know if and when I want to use it. Okay?”
    “This might be exactly what you’re looking for, Jack. A DNA match might deliver the real killer right into your hands.”
    “I know. I’m just not sure how to go about it. You sit tight. I don’t want you doing anything else right now. Got that? I’ll let you know when I need you again. I’ll deposit your fees up to now into your account. And Greg? Thanks.”
    “No problem,” Haymore said. “I’ll be watching for that deposit. Talk to you later.”
    “Oh, hang on a second,” Jack said. “One more question. Did you hear about the robbery at the Delancey residence Saturday night?”
    “Yeah. Not much on the news, but there’s talk everywhere about it. Somebody just walked in and stole that Guillame tiara?”
    “He dropped the tiara—not on purpose I’m sure. But he did take a journal written by Lilibelle Guillame. Do you know anything about the thief? Or know anybody who does things like that? That bold I mean?”
    “Walk in, grab a million-dollar piece of jewelry and then run out, right through a crowd of rich folks and cops? Nah.”
    “If you hear anything, give me a call on my cell, okay?”
    “Sure thing, Bush.”
    After Jack hung up, he sat there, thinking about the idea of using DNA to prove who killed Con Delancey. DNA was proof-positive. One hundred percent. No more doubt. No more questions.
    For the first time in his life, Jack actually wondered if he was doing the right thing. For the first time in his life, he considered the possibility that his grandfather had killed Con Delancey.

Chapter Five
    Cara Lynn smiled at the elderly couple who were walking hand-in-hand around the gallery, admiring the paintings, sculptures and other art pieces.
    She was waiting for Jack and about to scream. Her mother had just arrived and was talking to the gallery owner. Cara Lynn was doing what she was supposed to do, making herself