Valerie Wolzien - Death In Duplicate

“Your husband must be very… unselfish… generous…” Susan wasn’t sure what word to use.

“Oh, he is. He bought this house from Donald for me.”

Susan was speechless; fortunately Sophie decided to expand her explanation. “And even though I was working for Donald at that time, my husband didn’t even ask for a discount on the price. That’s how generous he is.”

“You sell real estate?”

“Oh, no. You have to go to classes and be licensed for that. I was what Donald called ‘a finder.’ ”

“What exactly did you find?”

“Houses. Building lots. Whatever Donald was looking for.”

“So your relationship was professional.”

“Well, Donald didn’t pay me anything but he gave me lovely gifts.” She looked around the room as though expecting to find an example of Donald Baines’s generosity hanging on the wall.

“You said your husband bought this house for you-from Donald Baines, right?”

“Yes.”

“So you knew him before you moved here, before he became your neighbor.”

“Oh, yes. Donald and I have known each other for years and years.”

“Before you were next-door neighbors?” Susan asked, trying to clarify something.

“Oh, yes.”

“How did you meet?”

“My older brother was his roommate in college. I don’t think they were very close, but they did like to do the same things so they spent a few vacations together. I remember my mother being upset when Howard, my brother, went home with Donald for Thanksgiving his freshman year. She thought he should come home, but Howard was intrigued by the fact that Donald had grown up on an island and wanted to see it. You see, we’re from the Midwest and Perry Island sounded very exotic to my brother-and to me when he told me about it.”

Bingo! Susan hoped she didn’t look as excited as she felt. “I didn’t know Donald grew up on Perry Island.” She spoke slowly.

“Oh, yes. His mother didn’t have any money at the time. I don’t know all the details but I know she worked in a small real estate office on the island when he was young. Perry Island is a nice place now. At least in the summer months it is. I mean, there’s a small summer colony that has some interesting people who stay there, but when Donald was growing up it was pretty rural. But his mother bought property there and that’s where the family celebrated holidays. My brother loved it. He’s now a national park ranger in Montana. The more rural the better as far as he is concerned.”

“What about Donald?”

“Oh, Donald was just happy to have someone around his own age during vacations. Apparently his mother invited colleagues or potential customers for what she liked to callold-fashioned family holidays. They weren’t, of course. And Donald was lonely there as a kid and teenager. The main business on the island back then was this old old-folks home.”

“Are things so different now?” Susan asked, remembering her drive the previous day.

“Probably not, but they would be if Blaine Baines had had her way.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s been planning for decades to build a development of executive homes out on the point where the old-folks home is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Donald and I’ve talked about it a lot over the years. I keep hoping to find something comparable for him to develop. He’s always been a bit competitive with his mother and that would be quite a coup for him.”

This new connection between the Blaineses and Perry Island stunned Susan. But Sophie had more to tell. “About a year ago, Donald told me he had a plan, a way to put that old-folks home out of business.”

“How?”

“He didn’t tell me that, but he said he was sure it would work.”

“And then his mother could buy the property and build houses on it?”

“That was her idea, but Donald said it was old-fashioned. He thinks a multiple-use development would make more sense. Private homes, of course, but also a big hotel, a conference center, maybe a private golf course, a spa.”

“Sounds like a lot of development for a small island.”

“Oh, it is. It would change the island completely. Every single home owner would benefit. That’s why Donald’s been buying up every property he can find for the past decade or so.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Nadine was very upset about it. She said they were land poor. She really didn’t understand him.”

Susan, who had learned more than she could possibly have imagined, decided to bring up Donald and Nadine’s relationship. “Did you get the impression that they had a good marriage?”

“What is a good marriage? They weren’t headed for divorce court or anything. At least not that I knew about.”

“Did you ever get the impression that Nadine resented the time you spent with her husband?”

“Probably. But not because she was the jealous type or anything like that. She resented all the time he spent working. You would think any smart woman would know better than to criticize a man’s work. After all, how did she think Donald provided the lifestyle that she liked so much?” Sophie looked around her room with a satisfied expression on her face and Susan realized that this was a woman who wouldn’t make that particular mistake.

“When you called here, you said you were going to give a speech of some sort at Nadine’s funeral,” Sophie said.

“A eulogy at her memorial service,” Susan corrected.

“But we’ve been talking about Donald, not Nadine.”

“I know, but you-”

“You’re going to say that I brought up his name, aren’t you?”

“You did actually.”

“I know. I suppose you can tell that I’m nuts about him, can’t you?”

“I had sort of guessed that.”

“Yeah, I got a crush on him the moment we met. Unfortunately it was at his wedding to Nadine. My brother’s date dumped him and he asked me to fill in.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I met my husband a few months later and I think I’ve done okay for myself.”

“I can see that,” Susan agreed.

“Yes. I don’t believe a woman should be completely dependent on a man. My work for Donald gives me some outside interests and, of course, there are fringe benefits.” She smirked.

“You are having an affair with Donald.”

“Perhaps, but that’s not your business and I can’t imagine that that has anything to do with Nadine’s eulogy.”

“No, I can’t either,” Susan admitted. “But you might be careful about who you tell. After all, Nadine was murdered. Some people just might consider you to be a viable suspect.”

Sophie stood up. “Ignorant people might, but anyone who knows me would tell you that I know on which side my bread is buttered. And an international authority on almost anything is much more reliable than someone who speculates on real estate-and works for his mother.”

“I guess I’d better be going,” Susan said, getting up immediately. “Perhaps I’ll see you at Nadine’s memorial service.”

“Not me. I don’t go to memorial services for people I’d rather forget.”

SUSAN SOON REALIZED HOW LUCKY SHE HAD BEEN THAT HER first two interviews had been located on the same street.

Immediately after leaving Brampton Lane she became thoroughly lost. She thought she could call for directions, but discovered that she couldn’t get service in this part of the state. Positive she was heading east, she drove into New York State. Turning around, she ended up repeating the route she had just traveled. It was simply dumb luck that she made enough wrong turns to arrive at her intended destination-the home of Edith Kraus, a woman who sounded almost eager to speak with her on the phone.