Valerie Wolzien - Death In Duplicate

“I’m surprised that residents were allowed to wander around outside on their own.”

“They weren’t. And I don’t remember it ever happening before. There were only a few doors and all of them were alarmed except for the back door where supplies were delivered, and there was a door between that area and the living area that was kept closed as well as alarmed. And there was always someone working in the kitchen twenty-four/seven, so no one could have gone out there without being seen. I don’t think anyone could have just wandered out, but I didn’t think about that then. I mean, what’s more likely-that someone had wandered out the back door where the alarm was turned off or someone had gone up on the roof and been thrown off?”

“Good point,” Susan said. “But how did they know she had been thrown off and not gone up there alone and just fallen?”

“The police searched all over. They thought she might have jumped out of a window, but all the windows on that side of the building are semisealed. They only open a few inches. So they checked out the roof. They found a necklace up there that she always wore. It had been pulled off her neck and broken. The autopsy showed that as well as other signs of a struggle before her death. They also found heavy leather gloves. They had been used to strangle her before she was tossed off the wall.”

“Was there any way to tell who had worn them?”

“No. Apparently the killer had put on surgical gloves before putting on the leather ones-there were boxes of gloves outside of each room; everyone had access to them-and dozens of pairs were tossed out every day, so searching the garbage didn’t reveal anything.”

Susan put down the almost empty bottle and moved Ethan up onto her shoulder and patted his back gently. “But there was no doubt that she was murdered.”

“None. And then they looked into the other two deaths and decided they were also suspicious…”

“But not Mr. Roper’s death.”

“No. I wonder why.”

“Me, too. It doesn’t make sense,” Susan said. But she didn’t mention the other thing that didn’t make sense to her. Why someone who went outside to cool down would still be wearing a sweater.

SUSAN HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DO SO SHE DID WHAT MANY women would do in her situation: she called her best friend. And, proving her worth as a best friend, Kathleen responded immediately.

“We can talk on the phone, but I sure don’t want to be overheard by… by anyone.” Susan looked at her closed bedroom door. She had come upstairs to make this call, but she knew Shannon might interrupt at any time.

“You could come over here. Or we could meet someplace,” Kathleen said.

Susan thought for a moment. “There are errands I should run. The baby bottle warmer broke this morning. Do they sell those things anyplace beside baby stores?”

“Sure. You can pick them up in any big drugstore. You can buy almost anything in those places. I bought my new steam iron at that gigantic place out on the highway.”

“In the new mini mall? Isn’t there a coffee shop there?”

“Yes, but it’s a little late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving. I haven’t had anything to eat since last night. Lord, I can’t remember the last time I was too busy to eat.”

“So let’s meet at that coffee shop in fifteen minutes.”

“You’re on! Paper and pens,” Susan said. And they had been close friends long enough for both women to know what she was talking about.

Susan stopped at the drugstore on the way to the coffee shop so she arrived after Kathleen, a half dozen plastic bags in one hand and a huge stuffed rabbit in the other. “Isn’t he adorable?” she asked, holding out the toy.

“Cute, but which baby are you giving it to?”

“I’m not sure. There was only one this big-or this cute-and I didn’t want one twin to feel slighted so I didn’t buy another. Maybe I’ll stop at Toys ’R’ Us on the way home and see what they have.”

“Chrissy and Stephen are going to need an awfully big apartment just to house the baby toys.”

“I know.” Susan glanced down at the rabbit. “Maybe I’ll take it back. The kids have so many baby presents that they haven’t opened yet.”

“Chrissy didn’t open presents the second she laid eyes on them? That doesn’t sound like her.”

“You can’t imagine how hectic things are. The babies keep all the adults so busy that Chrissy and Stephen haven’t even finished unpacking. And I think Shannon has done more laundry in the past few days than I’ve done in the last month.”

“Sounds like you’re all running on overload.”

“And then some.” Susan picked up her menu as their waitress appeared. “What are you having?”

“Just some coffee and a blueberry muffin. I had a big breakfast less than two hours ago.”

“Well, that’s not enough for me… I’ll have the Western omelet and hash browns with rye toast and coffee,” Susan ordered. “Now,” she started, leaning on the table as their waitress hurried off, “Shannon told me about the murders out on Perry Island.”

“Really?” Kathleen pulled a small leather-covered notebook and a slim gold Cross pen from her purse.

“Yes, and it was very interesting. She says death is different in a nursing home…” Susan began the story.

By the time their breakfast arrived, Kathleen had covered two pages with notes and Susan really was starving. She stuck a fork into the pile of hash browns on her overflowing oval plate while Kathleen picked up her mug of coffee, a serious expression on her face.

“What do you think about the murders?” Susan asked.

“Actually, I was thinking about Nadine’s death. Did you see the morning paper?”

“No, I’ve been so busy. Was there a story about it?”

“It covered the entire front page. The details of the murder itself, of course. A short interview with Brett in which he managed to say almost nothing, like the good cop he is. A fairly long interview with Donald who repeated over and over that he was distraught, miserable, and didn’t know who could have wanted to harm a hair on the head of his perfect wife-you know the sort of thing.”

Susan, her mouth full of omelet, only nodded.

“And an even longer interview with Blaine Baines.”

Susan swallowed. “Really? What did she say?”

“After describing her son as the best husband in the world and explaining that she was shocked and horrified at the death of his beloved wife-”

“What did she say about Nadine?”

“All the normal things. How sweet she was, how she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to kill her, how they always got along perfectly.”

“Working to make sure that neither she nor her son might become the primary suspects?”

“Definitely. And more than that. She was very careful to tell the reporter that not only did she and her son learn of the murder together, but they were together when it occurred.”

“I’m not sure that’s surprising. I think if I was in her-their-situation I would be tempted to do the same,” Susan said.

“Do you think one of them might have killed her?”

“I have no idea. But I think you could describe Blaine Baines as ruthless, and ruthless people certainly might kill someone who stood in the way of what they wanted.”

“Ruthless?” Kathleen mused. “Sounds like someone in one of those thrillers Jerry likes to read, not the local real estate agent.”

Susan, her initial hunger sated, stared at her plate and thought a bit before answering. “ Blaine ’s not your average housewife turned house seller. She owns and runs a multimillion-dollar business. But it’s not her business self I’m talking about. It’s her personality. She’s completely egocentric. She quite literally sees things only from her own perspective.”