“So you suspect her of killing for no reason?”
“Jed, you’re making me sound like an idiot.”
“If you believe the woman who is taking care of our grandchildren is a murderer and you’ve decided to do nothing about it, you just might be.”
“I don’t really believe that. In fact, I know she isn’t. She and Chrissy were here together all afternoon.”
“So why in heaven’s name did you wake me up?”
“Because I’m worried about Chrissy. You were the one who changed the subject.”
Jed sighed. “Okay. You’re right and, to tell the truth, so am I. She looks horrible. Do you think she should see a doctor?”
“I suggested it and she almost bit off my head. It’s probably just fatigue. But some women do suffer from depression after giving birth and she has so much to do, so many changes going on in her life. I was wondering if perhaps we should duplicate the Canfield’s gift and hire another baby nurse. The babies need a lot of care. Maybe they’re just too much for two people.”
“Then you’d be worried about two strangers in the house.”
“Maybe not! Maybe we could find someone that someone knows… If you know what I mean.”
“It’s almost one in the morning. I don’t know what I mean. Hon, let’s leave this till tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, he slid back down under the sheets and rolled over.
Susan frowned at his broad back and reached out to turn off the light.
She fell asleep almost immediately and, if more people were wandering up and down the stairs and in and out of rooms than was usual in the middle of the night, she wasn’t aware of it. But Clue, lying on an old Burberry blanket at the end of the bed, didn’t get as much sleep as usual and, if the Henshaws had been listening, they would have heard uncharacteristic growls coming from their dog.
The next day followed the lead of the one before, with the mayhem beginning very early. The twins were still asleep, Shannon was dozing in the rocking chair between their cribs, Jed and Stephen were driving to the train station, Chrissy was in the shower, all three dogs were exploring the backyard as though they had never been there before, and Susan was standing in the middle of her basement wondering if the big puddle on the floor of her laundry room had emerged from the hot water heater or her less-than-a-year-old washing machine, when the doorbell rang.
Pulling her flannel robe across her chest and yanking its sash tight, she ran upstairs, hoping she got to her visitor before the babies woke up. She was too late. Rosie-at least she thought it was Rosie-began to wail as she pulled open the door. Donald Baines stood on her doorstep, the very image of a shattered widower.
“Susan.” He seemed unable to go on.
“Donald. Come in. I was just going to make some coffee and… and something to go with it.”
“I really don’t think I could eat anything-as good as your cooking is-but perhaps a cup of coffee.”
“Of course. Why don’t you go on into the living room-we’ll be more comfortable there-and I’ll bring it out? It will only take a few minutes.”
“That would be nice.”
“You know the way,” she added as he paused in the hallway.
“Yes, I was just afraid of knocking over some of these boxes…”
“Good Lord! I… I guess Jed moved some things out of his library last night. Baby presents,” she explained, staring at the large pile stacked on the floor near the door.
“Of course. I had forgotten. You’re new grandparents. Congratulations. I didn’t realize gifts were appropriate.”
“Oh, they’re not for us. They’re for the babies. My daughter and her family are living with us while they look for a place to live. My son-in-law just started a new job,” she said, naming a prestigious brokerage house.
Donald perked up immediately. “And they’ll be looking for a home in Hancock?”
“They’re talking about an apartment in the city, but I’m thinking that once they look around and see what they can afford, they might change their minds.”
“Well, don’t forget your new neighbor if they need a real estate broker,” Donald said, the possibility of a new client apparently wiping all thoughts of his loss from his mind.
“So you think you’ll stay in the house… instead of moving somewhere smaller?” Susan instantly regretted the question. How could she be so insensitive?
But Donald didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, I’ll stay here. That house is a great investment. I got a bargain on it and it’s going to do nothing but appreciate in this market.” He took a deep breath and returned to his depressed mode. “Of course, it won’t be the same without Nadine. She really knew how to turn a house into a home.”
That was the last thing Susan would have said about Nadine, but she wasn’t going to argue with a bereaved husband. “I… I’ll get our coffee.”
She was gone from the room for only a few minutes. When she returned, she discovered Donald standing in front of the bookshelves that lined one wall, examining a current best seller as though it was a rare first edition. “Have you read that one?” she asked, moving aside a large box from Hanna Anderson to make room for the tray she carried.
“No. I don’t have much time to read. Well, not as much as I would like. I have so many obligations for my work. Rotary, Elks, Kiwanis, Lions’ Club, golf. Networking is very important to a real estate agent,” he added, perhaps noticing Susan’s startled expression.
“Yes… Why are you here? I mean, is there anything I can do for you?” She passed him a cup of coffee.
“Your daughter found my wife’s body. Is there any cream?”
“I… she… yes… Well, it’s milk, not cream, but I could get some cream if-”
“No, this is fine.” He poured milk to the top of his cup, sipped, and grimaced. “Fine. Really fine.”
“Chrissy did find Nadine. She was looking for her dogs.”
“That’s what someone-one of the police officers, I think-told me. But I don’t understand how she got into the house.”
That had been one of the first questions discussed over dinner last night. “Chrissy was looking for her dogs and she heard one of them barking. She assumed they were in your yard, but, when she went to look, she discovered the back door already open. Rock and Roll, the dogs, are bullmastiffs and they can pretty much push open any door, but only if it isn’t latched.”
“Yes. That makes sense.” He nodded as though the simple thing she had just told him was important. “I’d like to see your daughter sometime.”
“She’s still asleep. But we talked a lot last night. Maybe I can help you?” She didn’t add that their conversation had been constantly interrupted by the babies’ demands and she probably knew more about the twins’ routine-or lack of such-than the situation surrounding Nadine’s discovery.
“You saw her body.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes. You must have been shocked.”
“Nadine would have hated people seeing her like that.”
“Uh… well, yes.” What a strange comment. It wasn’t as though Nadine had been discovered with her hair a mess or wearing old jeans. She had been covered with her own blood, for heaven’s sake. She looked at Donald carefully. Was he drugged? In shock? “When are you going to have the funeral?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.
“There will be an autopsy. The police insist, although it’s a complete waste of time. It was obvious to anyone who saw her yesterday what the cause of death was. And then her body will be released to me. I suppose we’ll hold a memorial service sometime after that. I must remember to say something about that in the obituary.” He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a small, elegant leather bound notebook with a tiny silver pen attached. He spent a moment writing and then looked up at Susan. “Would you like to hear the obituary or would you prefer to see it in the newspaper this evening?”