Donald remained silent until Susan was turning into the parking lot behind his mother’s office. “You don’t have to go in with me, you know.”
No way, Susan thought. Not only had she promised Brett that she would keep an eye on him, but she had every intention of finding out exactly why he had insisted on coming here. “But I do,” she answered without thinking. “I… I have to use the bathroom.” She settled on a reason she knew he couldn’t refuse.
“Oh. Well, then I’ll show you where to go,” he offered rather ungraciously as he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him.
Susan reminded herself that this man had just lost his mother-surely a time when she shouldn’t be critical of his manners, or lack thereof. She hurried after him into the building.
Donald’s appearance in his mother’s office in the middle of the afternoon didn’t seem to be considered unusual. The well-groomed, well-dressed women sitting at their desks greeted him with smiling faces. Donald’s grim response caused a few raised eyebrows, but no comments. “The bathrooms are down that hallway,” he said to Susan, pointing, and continuing to the rear of the room without breaking his stride.
Susan had no choice but to start down the short corridor, but she had no intention of letting him out of her sight for long. She turned around almost immediately and, leaning against the wall, watched him walk to a desk at the back of the large room. He fiddled with some papers, moving a pile to the left and then to the right, straightened out a few silver-framed photos, then picked up a pen and gently tapped on the desktop. “I need everyone’s attention up here.”
He had had everyone’s attention since his arrival, but now the women looked up at him with bright attentive expressions on their faces. Donald glanced at the front door. “Is anyone due back here with clients in the next fifteen minutes or so?”
“Millie is out showing the Abbot property, but she won’t be back for at least an hour,” a perky blond replied.
Donald nodded. “Good. I have some tragic news. My mother is dead. She was killed. This afternoon.” He didn’t look at his audience, but fiddled with items on the desktop. “I don’t know much more. The police are, of course, involved and I think we can depend on them to figure out what is going on… and to find the killer. This does not concern Blaine Baines Executive Homes and Estates. We have an obligation to our clients to provide them with continuing service of the high standard everyone has come to expect from us. When the time and date of the funeral is known, I will disseminate the information via e-mail-of course you all have your BlackBerries with you at all times-and the offices will be closed during that time out of respect for Mother. Naturally, all staff members are welcome to attend.” Donald paused and looked up at his audience for the first time. Susan was surprised to see the hint of a smile on his face. “Mother was always proud of the business she created and I am determined to see that it continues… and even thrives. And I am depending on each and every one of you so see that this happens.”
As soon as Donald finished speaking, he was surrounded. Almost as one the women had abandoned their desks and rushed to his side-to comfort, to reassure, to declare their loyalty to the company and to him. They were, of course, shocked by the news. Susan doubted if anyone other than herself noticed when Donald slipped a sheet of paper from the bottom of a pile on his mother’s desk into his jacket pocket.
TWENTY-THREE
SUSAN WAS CONVINCED THAT DONALD’S DESIRE TO VISIT HIS mother’s office had been driven by a need to obtain the paper he had slipped into his pocket, despite his statement to the contrary. After accepting condolences from his employees, he had wasted no time chatting, but found Susan (wiping her hands, pretending to have just left the restroom-an effort wasted on him) and pretty much demanded to be driven immediately to the police station. She was happy to oblige. And even happier to discover an officer smoking outside the station door who came out to the car to greet Donald and escort him inside.
Her responsibilities completed, Susan drove straight home. Her street was now more crowded than ever, with roadblocks set up at both ends. After identifying herself to the officer manning the barricade, steering around a reporter speaking earnestly into a camera in the middle of the macadam, and driving right over cables laid down by someone for something, she arrived home. Chrissy had parked in her mother’s spot in the garage so she left her car in the driveway and went into the house. This time not even Clue was waiting for her in the kitchen. In her living room she discovered an impromptu party in progress. Erika Fortesque had brought her six-month-old daughter over to see the twins. Zoe Fortesque was, until a few weeks ago, Susan’s favorite baby as well as her goddaughter. A miniature of her mother, Zoe had dark brown hair, big serious eyes, and a slow smile. Sitting on her mother’s lap, she was flirting like crazy with Susan’s grandson. Shannon was sitting on the couch, a twin in each arm, chatting with Erika. Chrissy was kneeling on the floor, unwrapping a bulky package with Kathleen Gordon’s help.
“Zoe and I thought we’d stop in for a visit now that she’s over her cold,” Erika said. “Of course, I didn’t expect to discover Brett and most of his department next door.”
Susan nodded. “You know what happened over there, don’t you?”
“Yes, I called his cell phone as soon as we arrived. Incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I-”
“Mother, look. Look what Erika and Brett gave the twins.”
Susan looked. “Amazing. But what is it?”
“An antique sled. Probably made in Connecticut or Rhode Island between 1790 and 1810,” Erika answered. “I was at an antiques fair over the weekend looking for things for the store, came across this, and couldn’t resist. Look.” She sat Zoe down on the floor and joined Chrissy. “It was made for two children to use at the same time.” She pointed to the double C shape of the back support. “I know it’s not terribly practical.”
Chrissy hugged the bulky object. “I love it! Next winter Stephen and I will take Rosie and Ethan sledding in Central Park the very first snowstorm.”
So much for moving to Hancock, Susan thought.
“Sounds like fun,” Kathleen said, moving over to Susan. “My in-laws are in town for a few days…,” she began, lowering her voice.
“I didn’t know they were coming.”
“Well, things have been so hectic, which is why I’m here now. Jerry and Jed are going to meet us for dinner at the inn tonight. I called them right after hearing what had happened next door.” She looked at her friend, a stern expression on her face. “You need a break.”
“But the kids…,” Susan began to protest.
“My kids are probably already pigging out at Wendy’s with Jer’s parents and I’m sure Chrissy and Stephen can manage here.”
“We can, Mom,” Chrissy jumped in. “You and Dad go out. You’ve been looking exhausted.”
“Well…”
“Come on. Run upstairs and change your clothes.” Kathleen checked her watch. “We’re due there in half an hour.”
“But how will Stephen get home from the station?” Susan asked.
“Stephen is driving Jed’s car home. You and I will drive over separately. I’ll drive home in my car. Jerry will drive home in his and…”
“Jed and I will come back here in mine,” Susan continued the pattern. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“We’ve tried. Go get dressed.”
“Go on, Mom. You don’t want to be late.” Chrissy sounded just like a mother.
Susan gave up. Why should she scrounge around in her kitchen for food, prepare a meal that would be eaten, not in the dining room while the family conversed about the day, but around the needs of the twins, then spend at least another hour in the kitchen cleaning up when she had been offered an opportunity to dress up and let someone else do all the work?