“Okay. Give me twenty minutes to change.”
“I’ll give you fifteen. If we get there early, we can have a quick glass of wine in the bar and catch up,” Kathleen said.
Susan, who was dying to tell Kathleen about her day, took ten minutes to change, two to make sure all the dogs had done what they needed to do in the backyard, and five more saying good-bye to Erika and Zoe. It took less time to drive to the inn than to maneuver out of the driveway and around the mayhem in the street. But she and Kathleen entered the inn fifteen minutes before Jed and Jerry’s train would arrive at the station.
The Hancock Inn was in full flower. Pots of spring bulbs lined the walls and sat on the tables. Massive glass urns full of flowering quince, forsythia, and pussy willows filled the deep windowsills of the old stone building, their vibrant colors reflected back into the room. Hundreds of votive candles in frosted glass holders augmented the brass chandeliers and electric wall sconces. The effect was warm, lush, and as different from the nightmare that was going on next door to the Henshaws’ house as it was possible to get. Susan took a deep breath and felt herself relax.
Charles, maître d’ and owner, dashed to the door to greet his guests. “Mrs. Henshaw. Mrs. Gordon. I was thrilled to see your names on the reservation list. It has been too long since we saw you.”
“Three weeks, I think,” Susan said, smiling at Charles’s enthusiasm.
“Too long. Too long. And you must try the New Zealand cockles tonight. They’re on the menu as an appetizer, but, of course, we can prepare them as an entrée. They are absolutely superb.”
“Sounds sensational,” Susan said. “Charles, Kathleen and I only have a few minutes before our husbands arrive. Do you think you could find us a private spot in the bar where we could chat?”
“Of course, girl talk. Follow me!”
Charles seated them in a booth at the back of the bar and hurried off, promising to send a waiter and two glasses of chilled Prosecco to their table immediately.
“So, tell me about your day!” Kathleen demanded.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Did you speak to Nadine’s neighbors?”
“Yes! Although I can’t tell you how much trouble I had finding them.”
“Well, save that for later. Tell me what they said.”
Susan leaned across the table so her words could only be heard by her friend. “Donald grew up on Perry Island!”
“What?”
“But not in the family home we’ve heard about. He lived in an apartment over a real estate agency when he was a kid, before his mother bought the family home there.”
“That’s interesting.”
“And she wanted to build a development out there.”
“What?”
“Yes, on the point of land where Perry Island Care Center is located!”
“But-”
“And Donald told Sophie-”
“Sophie?”
“A neighbor at their old place. She and her husband live in one of the houses that Donald built on the land that he purchased along with Edith’s cottage.” She saw the mystified expression on her friend’s face and backtracked a bit. “Sophie and Donald have known each other for years. And they had an affair.”
“Susan…”
“Look, none of that is important. What is important is that Donald told her…”
“… in a moment of passion?” Kathleen said, grinning.
“Possibly in a moment of passion, but more likely in a moment of bragging. He told her that he knew a way to put Perry Island Care Center out of business.”
“What?”
“You heard me! He said he knew a way to put the care center out of business.”
“So that the land would be available for his mother to develop.”
“For someone to develop. Apparently there was a bit of competition between Donald and his mother and he had even bigger plans for Perry Island. Something about a multiple-use development-homes as well as a hotel and a conference center. You know the sort of thing.”
“How was he going to do it?”
“I don’t know exactly, but he has built developments before.”
“That’s not what I mean. How was he going to put Perry Island Care Center out of business?”
“I have no idea. Maybe he was going to arrange for some mysterious deaths.” She stopped speaking as the waiter appeared with their wine.
Kathleen took a sip of the wine and smiled. “This is delicious. Thank you.” She nodded and he left them alone.
“You know, Blaine Baines Executive Homes and Estates is the same business entity as Donald Baines Executive Homes.” Susan took a sip from her flute.
“Really? Why would they have two different names if they are the same company?” Kathleen smiled over Susan’s shoulder. “Private time has come to an end. Guess whose husbands are standing in the doorway?”
“Ours, I hope. I’m starving!”
The women got up and joined their spouses.
The two couples were seated in a small bay window in the dining room. They chatted a bit then got down to the serious business of deciding what to order.
“I’ll have the New Zealand cockles as a starter. And the grilled swordfish with cucumber lime salsa,” Kathleen ordered.
The waiter looked over at Susan. “I’m not quite ready,” she said. “Let the men order first.”
Jed, who knew that his wife liked to hear what everyone else was having before she made up her mind, leapt into the breach. “I’ll have the scallop brochette with spinach for an appetizer and the prime rib.”
Jerry frowned at the menu. “Sounds good. I’ll have the same appetizer and the duck.”
“And madam?”
Susan looked up. “The New Zealand cockles and the roasted salmon filet. And can we get a bottle of the Prosecco, too?”
“Good idea,” Jed agreed.
Now that their selections were made, Susan could return to a problem she had been grappling with all afternoon. She turned to her husband. “Jed, can you run a business and use different names for the same business?”
Jed looked at his wife and smiled. “You’re going to have to explain your question a bit before I can answer.”
Kathleen knew exactly what Susan was trying to say. “Susan and I were wondering about the Baineses and their real estate companies. They have a few offices that we know about. One is called Blaine Baines Executive Homes and Estates. Blaine Baines runs… ran… that one. And the office that Donald set up in town is called Donald Baines Executive Homes.”
“And you’re wondering if they are the same company,” Jerry said.
“Actually, we know they are, but why would they use different names?” Susan said.
“There’s an excellent reason for a company like that to use different names at different outlets,” Jed said.
“Why?”
“Shelf space. Think about the soda beverage aisle in the grocery store,” Jed continued when he saw the mystified expression on his wife’s face. “There’s a huge selection. Some shoppers buy Coke. Some buy bottled spring water. Some are looking for diet drinks. Most of those choices are created, bottled, marketed, and put on the shelves by a few big conglomerates. But they don’t brag about the common ownership. Because the common ownership blurs each individual brand’s image. That a drink made from sugar and chemicals with artificial colors added might come from the same purveyor as the water from the pristine stream in Montana doesn’t help either product sell.”
“You’re saying that they might just be two different faces of the same company,” Kathleen said as their appetizers arrived.
Susan stared down into her bowl of shellfish and wondered if she was imagining that this might be an important concept.