Death In Duplicate

by Valerie Wolzien

  Susan was still puzzling over what she was hearing. “The people I spoke with live on Brampton Lane.”

  “That’s the house at the top of Brampton. Donald had his own built first and then the rest of them were constructed, starting at his house and then going right down to the road.”

  “ Brampton Lane? I talked to Sophie Kincaid and Daria Woods. Is that really the same Brampton Lane?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did it take me over an hour to travel from there to here?”

  “You went by car. On foot you would have made it in less than five minutes.”

  Susan shook her head. “I knew I was lost, but I had no idea how lost.”

  “The roads around here aren’t well marked.”

  “I guess. How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost ten years. I moved in right after my divorce. I rented for six years and this place has been mine for the last four.”

  “Whose idea was it for you to buy this place? Donald’s or yours?”

  “I wanted to buy it as soon as I saw it, but Donald wasn’t interested in selling. I knew he was developing other homes in the area, and just hoped that eventually he would lose interest in this place and sell it to me and that’s the way it worked out.”

  “Did you get the impression that he needed the cash?”

  Edith thought about that for a minute or two. “Probably. He came over here one Saturday afternoon and told me he was interested in selling and named an outrageously high price. And I paid it. In cash.”

  “Why?”

  “I love this house and I could afford to pay what he was asking. And it was worth it-not just to get the house, but to be relieved of the worry that Donald would turn me out once my lease was up, tear this place down and replace it with one of those pretentious houses he’s so fond of.”

  “Do you like Donald?” Susan asked, although she was fairly sure she knew the answer.

  “Can’t stand him. He knew how I felt about this house and he never once renewed my lease until the last minute. Every single year I had weeks of worry. I spoke to him about it more than once, but he said that’s the way he preferred to run his business. I was so thrilled the day he and Nadine moved to Hancock, I could have danced naked on the roof.” She grinned. “Not that I did. But I could have.

  “You know, ever since you called this morning, I’ve been thinking that it’s interesting that they bought the house next to yours,” Edith continued.

  “Because Nadine ended up murdered and I’ve investigated murders?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But there’s no way anyone could have known Nadine was going to be killed when they picked out that house.”

  “Except-possibly-for the person who killed her,” Edith suggested.

  Susan thought about this for a moment. “That’s an interesting idea. And it would limit the possible suspects…”

  “To those who knew they were going to move and found them the house next door to you!” Edith continued enthusiastically. “How many people might fall into that group?”

  Susan shook her head. “I have no idea. But unless we’re sure that there’s a connection between Nadine’s murder and the move to Hancock, it really doesn’t eliminate anyone from the list of suspects.”

  “Now, see, that’s why you’re so successful when you set out to solve a crime!” Edith said enthusiastically. “I would have gone off in the wrong direction and made all sorts of mistakes. You stay on point, don’t you?”

  “I try,” Susan admitted, not mentioning that she had gotten involved in this investigation because she didn’t want it to come closer to her home or anyone living with her at present.

  “I assume you’ve eliminated both Donald and his mother.”

  “The police eliminated them immediately. They were together when Nadine was killed.”

  “Blaine Baines is probably busy celebrating. She and Nadine didn’t get along at all.”

  “I’ve heard that she wanted him to marry someone with more drive.”

  “Sophie Kincaid told you that, right?”

  Susan nodded.

  “Don’t believe her. Sophie doesn’t like to think she’s not the most important person in Donald’s life.”

  “Daria said they’d had an affair and Sophie sure didn’t bother to deny it.”

  Edith shook her head. “They may have, but I doubt if it was important to them. I mean, it’s not like they were in love with each other or it was going to break up their marriages. They’re both such self-centered people. I can’t imagine either doing anything that might jeopardize something they value.”

  “So you think Donald’s marriage did matter to him.”

  “Yes. Donald appreciated that his marriage brought him stability and a certain place in the community. And a place in the community meant a lot to Donald.”

  “Really?”

  “I gather you’ve never dealt with him professionally.”

  “You mean bought or sold a house. No.”

  “Part of his shtick was I live here and love it so you’ll live here and love it. He mentions that he’s been married for years and years. He talks about how he and his wife belong to this club and that, and go see plays at the local theater, and walk in the nature center, and that sort of thing. It’s a fictional sort of 1950s view of the suburbs-completely untrue, of course, but it must work. His business is thriving.”

  Susan thought about that for a moment. “That’s not how his mother works, is it? I mean, she was a single mother struggling to make a living from what I understand.”

  “No, Blaine ’s big on snob appeal. But I’ll bet Donald learned the value of image from his mother. They may not project the same image, but they do project images. Hers as a rich single professional is as effective as his as a happily married man. People might think they’re completely different, but, believe me, they’re as alike as two people can be.”

  “Maybe it’s time I spoke to Blaine Baines,” Susan said. “I don’t suppose I could tell her that I’m looking for information about her daughter-in-law.”

  “You have the perfect excuse. Tell her you’re going to put your house on the market, that you don’t want to live next door to a house where a murder took place.”

  “Considering my reputation, I doubt if she would believe that. But I wonder if she might have a very small inexpensive luxury estate on her list. Something suitable for a young couple with twins.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  SUSAN DROVE HOME WITH ONLY HALF HER ATTENTION ON the road. She had learned a lot this morning and she spent some time mulling it over, trying to put the pieces together. The connection between the Baines family and Perry Island must be significant and might be useful if the police began to think that Shannon was the only person in Hancock with connections to Perry Island. But, less than an hour after bragging to Edith about her ability to stay “on point,” she found the idea of locating a home nearby for her Chrissy and the twins (and Stephen too, she amended hastily) very distracting. Chrissy hadn’t mentioned moving to the city since the day she arrived. Perhaps she now realized how helpful having family nearby could be. And the twins kept her so busy. Certainly if Susan found the perfect place-like one of the cute carriage houses that had been converted to single family homes in the older part of Hancock-Chrissy might review her options. Besides, it was time for Susan to find out just how Blaine Baines was reacting to the murder of her daughter-in-law.

  Her cell phone was still searching for a signal, so she decided to go home. She would call Blaine from there and maybe play with her grandchildren for a few minutes. She might even find an opportunity to sound out her daughter on a possible move to Hancock.

  But she knew the patrol car parked in her driveway indicated a change in her plans. She pulled into the garage and hurried into the house.

  It was strangely quiet. Even Clue, after greeting her enthusiastically, returned to her nap on the kitchen floor. The mastiffs seemed to think greeting anyone without a
dog biscuit in each hand was a waste of their time. Someone had made a trip to the local warehouse store and left two cases of Pampers on the table along with a giant bag of jelly beans. She was heading for the living room when she heard voices from behind the closed door to Jed’s study. She knocked and, when no one answered, opened the door just enough to peek in.

  Brett Fortesque was leaning against Jed’s desk, arms crossed, staring down at the Oriental rug with a frown on his face. An officer she didn’t recognize perched on the arm of one of two matching wing chairs that faced the desk. Donald Baines sat in the other chair, his arms propped up on his knees, his head in his hands. The policemen looked up as Susan entered the room.

  “Brett? Has something happened… Chrissy…”

  “Chrissy and the babies are fine. The baby nurse has driven them all to the museum. Apparently your charming daughter thinks three weeks is old enough to be introduced to art.”

  Susan smiled. That sounded like her daughter.

  “But something has happened,” he continued. “Blaine Baines has been murdered.”

  “ Blaine…” Susan looked at Donald. “Your mother?”

  “My mother,” he confirmed without looking up. “Someone has killed my mother and my wife.”

  Susan glanced at Brett. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Perhaps you could make some coffee for us,” Brett said.

  She nodded and hurried back to the kitchen. She was pouring water into the pot when Brett entered the room. “Do you want something with your coffee?” she asked, having no idea what to offer when the bag on the table caught her eye. “Jelly beans maybe?”

  He grinned and reached out for the candy. “Actually, they do look good. Do you always buy such large bags of sweets?” He ripped open the top.

  Susan reached into an overhead cupboard and passed him a large crystal bowl. “No, but it’s hard to resist a bargain sometimes. Dump them in here. That way everyone can pick out their favorite color.” Brett did as she suggested while she ground coffee beans. When the water was dripping through the grounds, she joined him at the table. “Why are you all here?” she asked, selecting one bean of each color, and popping a green one in her mouth.

  “Sorry, I should have explained right away. I was driving by your house. We’re patrolling this neighborhood more than usual since the first murder. Some of your neighbors are a little nervous. Anyway, I was driving by and Chrissy and Shannon were putting the babies in the back of the car. I stopped to say hello and see if I could help out in any way when a call came into the station that there had been another body found next door to you.”

  “What?”

  “Blaine Baines was found in her son’s house,” he explained, popping a handful of mixed jelly beans in his mouth.

  “Where?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  “How was she killed?”

  “She was stabbed.”

  “Just like Nadine.”

  Brett nodded.

  “And Donald found her.”

  “Yes. He obviously couldn’t stay in the house, and Chrissy said she was going out and offered your home as a… a refuge for him.”

  Susan sat down at the table and grabbed a handful of candy. “I don’t know what to say. It seems, I don’t know, impossible.”

  “That’s pretty much what Donald has been saying. It’s almost as though he’s in shock-or thinking hard about something else. That’s one of the reasons I suggested the coffee.”

  “What’s the other reason?”

  “I wanted to talk to you for a minute, to let you know what’s going on.”

  Susan began collecting cups and saucers and placing them on a tray. “And?”

  “To ask you if Donald could stay here while we’re working next door. We’ll get the job done as quickly as possible, but it will be at least an hour before we get his mother’s body out of there.”

  Susan considered his request. She didn’t want Donald to run into Shannon again, but how could she turn Brett down? She was still trying to figure that one out when the other police officer entered the room.

  “Mr. Baines wants to go to his mother’s office and tell her staff what has happened. I didn’t know what to say,” the young officer explained.

  “We need to ask him some questions…” Brett began.

  “I could drive him to his mother’s office,” Susan said, seeing a way out of her problem. “He probably shouldn’t be driving-or alone. And I could take him down to the police station when he’s done there.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Brett said slowly. “I can understand if you want your house free of this when Chrissy comes home with her babies,” he said to Susan. Then he turned to the officer. “Tell Mr. Baines that Mrs. Henshaw will drive him to the office and then to the police station. And that he is not to speak to anyone on his mother’s staff-or anyone else-alone. If he agrees with that, we’ll let him go.

  “Keep an eye on him,” he continued to Susan when they were alone again. “I don’t want him running off and talking privately to God-knows-who unless I know about it.”

  “I’ll try to keep track, but-”

  “Just do the best you can. And keep in touch. Let me give you my cell phone number. If anything unusual happens, if you even feel uncomfortable about anything he does, call me immediately.”

  “I will, but he might not even want to go with me…” she was starting to say when the officer returned.

  “Mr. Baines says fine, but can you leave immediately.”

  Susan looked at Brett. “Isn’t this urge to dash down to his mother’s office a little unusual?”

  Brett frowned. “I can’t say I disagree. Susan, maybe you shouldn’t do this. One of my officers can take him down to the station and he can wait until we’re done.”

  Susan saw a possible opportunity to learn something begin to slip through her fingers. “I really don’t mind doing this, Brett.”

  He looked over at her and frowned. “Okay. But you and I had better spend a little time together soon. At this point, an exchange of information might be beneficial.”

  “Great.” Susan got up. She didn’t want to tell Brett about Shannon or Perry Island, and she realized he was going to find out for himself if she didn’t get him out of here before Chrissy and the twins returned. As much as she admired Chrissy’s determination to start her children’s education early, she doubted if the babies would find art enthralling and suspected they could be home any time now. “I’ll just collect Donald and we’ll be on our way.”

  “And you’ll call if-”

  “I’ll call if anything at all happens, is unusual, or… or anything,” she promised him.

  Donald’s entrance prevented more conversation on this particular subject. After assuring Brett that they would let him know when they arrived at the police station, Susan led her neighbor through the connecting door to the garage.

  “I’m very sorry about all this,” she said, realizing the inadequacy of her words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

  “I was very close to my mother. She brought me up alone, you know.”

  They were settled in the car and Susan pressed the garage door opener and backed out. The scene had changed since she arrived less than half an hour before. Police cars lined the street, lights flashing. Vans from the local television station were in the process of setting up. Susan glanced over at Donald. He was scrunched down in his seat, collar up, staring straight ahead. She accelerated and they managed to make their escape without attracting undue attention.

  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.”