“Mike was asked by Mrs. Hershman to leave the door to the roof open for her. And then she fell-or was pushed-off the roof, and he panicked and took off. But he liked Mrs. Hershman. He would never have killed her.”
Brett nodded slowly. “I don’t know all the details of the P.I.C.C. investigation, but now that we have connected Donald and his mother with a desire to close down P.I.C.C., I know the police will be looking in some other directions.”
“You think Mike should talk to the police in charge of the case?” Shannon asked.
“And he should talk to Brett,” Susan suggested.
“I have nothing to do with what happened on Perry Island,” Brett said.
“But I think Donald manipulated Mike the same way he manipulated everyone else. He suggested that Mike get out of P.I.C.C. as fast as possible-and that focused attention on Mike that might better have been placed on other suspects,” Susan said.
“That may be true,” Shannon agreed slowly. “And… well, Mike will probably tell you this himself…”
“He was involved with Sophie Kincaid, too, wasn’t he?” Brett suggested.
“You’re kidding! Sophie Kincaid is the older woman that what’s her name-the receptionist-told Kathleen and me about?”
“I think that’s the name of the woman,” Shannon said. “I told Mike he was being used, but he has this adolescent male ego. He thought she liked him because he was ‘hot.’ ”
“He’s not the first male who let his ego blind him to the truth,” Susan pointed out. “And many are a whole lot older than your cousin.”
“I guess.”
Susan changed the subject. “P.I.C.C. is a wonderful place, but its open-door policy for visitors means that pretty much anyone can get in and see-or harm-the residents.”
Shannon frowned and was silent for a moment. “It’s important-vital-that relatives and friends of the residents have twenty-four hour access to them. And because we’re located on an island where there’s very little crime, we never considered it important to keep track of the comings and goings of visitors. There isn’t even a receptionist on duty at night. That,” she added firmly, “will have to change.”
Brett nodded. “It’s sad, but it’s better not to trust everyone than to end up with a tragedy.”
“That’s true,” Shannon agreed.
Susan had a horrible thought. “Oh, no! You’re going to leave Chrissy and the babies, aren’t you?”
Shannon smiled. “I keep telling your daughter that I’m hanging around until Ethan and Rosie go to college,” she answered. “But I suspect Chrissy and her husband won’t need me that long. After this job, I’ll go back to P.I.C.C., but not until this job is over. Working with babies has been a lovely change. And I’ve been thinking that it might be nice to start a day care center on Perry, one that’s connected to P.I.C.C. Our residents would love to be around babies and small children on a regular basis, and I’ll bet there are lots of parents on Perry who would be thrilled to have some professional care for their children.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Susan agreed.
The back door opened and there was a commotion as the dogs dashed through the kitchen and into the hallway. Rock and Roll bounded up to the second floor and Susan shuddered as the newel post at the bottom of the stairway shook. Clue, more sedate than the younger dogs, walked slowly into the living room, over to Shannon, and rested her big golden head on the nurse’s lap. Shannon scratched the dog and frowned. “I was afraid to take this job. I didn’t want to come back to Connecticut. Those last few months at P.I.C.C. were horrible. My parents would have been devastated by the deaths there. I just wanted to get away and forget it all.”
“So why did you take the job?” Susan asked. “Didn’t you know Chrissy and Stephen might end up living here?”
“Yes. But, to tell you the truth, I knew Mike was still in the area and I wanted to help him if I could and… well, Stephen’s parents told me about you.”
“And you thought I might help your cousin,” Susan guessed.
Shannon looked over at Brett then at Susan and then back down to the dog. “Stephen’s mother said you were friends with the police in Hancock, and I was hoping you might influence them to… well, to overlook Mike’s involvement out at P.I.C.C.”
“It sounds to me as though your cousin doesn’t need that type of interference,” Brett said.
Shannon looked up and smiled at him. “I don’t think so either. I… oh, I’d better get up to the nursery,” she said as the twins’ nighttime duet began.
“Call me if you need my help,” Susan said.
“And I’d better get going. Mr. Kincaid’s lawyer is probably still making a fuss, and I want to check in with the officer I left with Donald Baines at the hospital, and Erika has left a half dozen messages on my phone. She says she has fabulous news for me.”
“Maybe she’s pregnant again,” Susan said, standing up to see her guest to the door.
Brett glanced up toward the stairway where the twins’ wails had become even louder. “I doubt it. I think one baby at a time is all we can deal with.”
“Maybe,” Susan agreed, opening the door for him. “Unless, of course, they’re both as wonderful as my amazing grandchildren. Or…” She glanced over at Shannon. “Or you’re lucky enough to find the perfect baby nurse.”
THIRTY-TWO
IT WAS TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT ETHAN AND ROSIE WOULD allow their grandparents to sleep through the night two days in a row. At five-thirty the next morning, Susan and Jed were sitting at their kitchen table waiting for the first drop of coffee to fall through the filter. Clue was still upstairs, probably sprawled on her back in the middle of their bed. The mastiffs had been put in the backyard a few hours earlier. Chrissy and Stephen had last been seen at four AM trudging a well-worn path between their bedroom and the nursery, yawning and exhausted. The sound of the washer being turned on in the basement proved that Shannon was busy down there.
No one expected the phone to ring.
“Who the hell would be calling at this hour?” Jed asked, reaching for the phone. “Susan, if this call has anything at all to do with another murder, I want you to promise me that you’ll ignore it.”
“Don’t let Chrissy hear you talking like that in the same house as your grandchildren,” Susan warned, moving over to the coffeepot and pouring out her first cup of the day as Jed answered the phone.
“Hi… Hey, I thought you were walking around England… Last night? Really? Well, it’s been a little busy around here… They’re wonderful and growing right before our eyes. When are you coming to see them? Anytime. Oh, of course… but I think I’d better let Susan explain…” Jed passed the phone to his wife. “Your mother.”
“Hi, Mom,” Susan began, prepared to extol the many virtues of her grandchildren for as long as her mother wanted. But she was rudely interrupted by a great-grandmother who had more on her mind than the future generation. Susan listened for a few minutes and then began her explanation. “I know you’re not… I have no intention… Of course, I don’t think… Never, I promise you… Never. You don’t have to worry about that… I… Mom?… Mom?… Mom?” She pressed the OFF button and handed the phone to her husband. “She hung up on me. I can’t believe it. She hung up on me!”
“It’s probably a little disturbing to come home after a long vacation and find letters in your mail saying that your daughter is trying to have you admitted to a nursing home,” Jed suggested.
“I didn’t realize P.I.C.C. would contact her,” Susan said. “They’re up awfully early.”
“Hon, it’s almost noon in London. They’re probably a little jet-lagged as well as acclimated to living in another time zone. Your mom will calm down as soon as she’s seen her great-grandchildren.”
“I forgot to ask her when they’re coming to visit.”