“Not exactly the ideal dog’s life,” Brett said.

“Not exactly.”

“Susan, you know I’ve grown to respect your investigative abilities.”

“It took you long enough,” Susan yanked on the leash to prevent Clue from flattening a gorgeous curbside display of crocus.

“You’re probably right.”

Susan blinked. Where was this conversation going? “But I thought you were angry at me for not telling you about Perry Island and Shannon and all.”

“Not angry. It would make my job a lot easier if you shared what you know with me, yes. But sometimes you… well, sometimes your enthusiasm for what you think you know gets in the way of rational thinking.”

“Brett, why are you here? I mean, you didn’t show up on my doorstep at dawn just to chat, did you?”

“No. To be honest, I wanted to pick your brain. You usually have insight into the personal relationships of the people involved in any of my cases.”

Well, he already knew what she had been trying to hide. Why not? “Okay. But I don’t think I know anything. I mean, I’ve heard that Nadine and Donald were having marital problems, and that Donald and his mother were competitive, and that Nadine and her mother-in-law didn’t get along. And, damn it, that’s really all I’ve learned.

“Not much, is it?” she added when he didn’t respond right away.

“Not much,” he agreed. “Of course, you were investigating a single murder. Now things have changed. Two women have been killed.”

“As well as those patients at Perry Island,” Susan said.

“ Perry Island is not, of course, the primary focus of my investigation, but I haven’t forgotten them since Donald Baines told me about your baby nurse.”

“Donald told you about Shannon! When?”

“Last night.”

“Because he was trying to protect himself! You suspect that he killed his mother!”

“I certainly checked that out right away.”

“And?”

“He has an alibi.”

“That’s not possible. Did you even know when she was killed last night? When was the autopsy completed?”

“Her personal secretary called the station right after she heard about the murder. Blaine Baines had lunch with a prospective client at the Hancock Inn at noon yesterday. I haven’t spoken to the client yet, but I did speak to Charles who says she’s one of his best lunchtime customers and he saw her there. My understanding is that the last time Blaine Baines appeared in public was around two-thirty when she walked the client to her Jaguar in the inn’s parking lot.”

“And Donald…”

“Was in the office of a lawyer in Darien closing on a house from around two until five when he drove home, walked into his kitchen, and discovered his mother on his kitchen floor.”

“How do you know he didn’t walk in the house and find his mother alive and kill her?”

“Because she wasn’t killed in his kitchen.”

“What?” It was a possibility Susan hadn’t even considered.

“Definitely. She was killed someplace else and carried into the kitchen.”

“You’re sure?”

“No question about it. Not only was there no blood splattered around the room-”

“Like when Nadine was killed,” Susan muttered, remembering the mess.

“Yes. But Blaine was carried into the kitchen in a throw, a small blanket, one of those cashmere things that people hang over their sofas in the winter. You know what I mean.”

Susan nodded.

“It was still under the body when Donald found her,” he explained. “It looked as if the killer tried to duplicate the first death.”

“So where was she killed?”

“We have no idea. Yet.”

Susan thought about all this as she strolled behind her pet. “Maybe she met Donald someplace else, he killed her, wrapped her in the throw, and… and…”

“And brought her home with him, claimed to find her in the kitchen and raised a hue and cry? It doesn’t make any sense. And it’s not possible. Donald was driven home from Darien by his client’s lawyer.”

“Isn’t that unusual?”

“Apparently they’re friends. Donald’s car was scheduled for routine maintenance so they arranged to do this.”

“Why didn’t he take Nadine’s car? It’s not as though she’s using it.”

“No, but the battery is dead. That’s what he told us and it was easy to check out. He’s given us complete access to his home.”

“So Donald has an alibi again.”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as unlikely?”

“Unlikely?”

“Suspicious.”

“You mean he arranged for his wife and mother to be killed and then made sure he was going to be someplace else while it was happening?”

“Exactly!”

“Possible, but a stretch. He’s a very busy man, Susan. I think that may be the only explanation here.”

They walked down the street in silence for a bit. “Why would anyone want to kill Donald’s mother and his wife?”

“I was wondering if you had come up with any suggestions,” Brett answered.

“Perhaps a future wife who doesn’t want an interfering mother-in-law?”

Brett chuckled as she had meant him to. “Seems a bit drastic, but I’ll take it under consideration.”

The walked in silence a bit longer. “Do you think Donald knows something he’s not telling you?” Susan asked.

“Damn right. I must admit I don’t trust him.”

“Why not?”

“He seems a bit detached from these murders, almost as though he has something else on his mind.”

Susan chuckled. “Nadine would be more than a little irritated to hear that. She was always complaining that he didn’t pay her enough attention when she was alive. She’d be furious if she knew his inattention continued after her death.

“But it’s interesting that he’s responding to his mother’s death pretty much the same way he responded to his wife’s,” Susan went on.

“I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming that he might be in shock.”

“That’s possible. After all, it isn’t every day that a man’s family is wiped out…” Susan paused and turned to Brett. “Is it his whole family? Are there other relatives?”

“We’re looking into that.”

“And you’ll let me know when you find out?”

Brett didn’t answer immediately. In fact, he changed the subject. “Who did you talk to on Perry Island?”

“A few of the residents at the Perry Island Care Center, the admissions person there-Astrid something-and a woman who owns the island bookstore.”

“And what excuse have you used?”

“Why do you think I need an excuse?”

“Because most people who work in a nursing home admissions office are hired to talk to people who are interested in admitting someone,” Brett said.

“I’m telling everyone that I’m interested because I’m looking for someplace for my mother to live.”

“Has she gone out with you?”

“No, my parents are in Europe.”

“And you’ve been out there once?”

“Twice.”

“Can you think of a reason to return?”

“I suppose. They asked me if I wanted to eat a meal there and I could say I was testing the food for Mom. Or I suppose I could bring something out to one of the residents I met the last time I was there.”

“Good.”

“You want me to go out there again.”

“Yes.”

“To find out something for you.”

“To check out something for me. Yes.”

“Why don’t you just send one of your officers?”

“Because I hate outside interference in my local cases and the authorities out there might feel the same way. I’d like to avoid it if I can.”

“And if I help you, you’ll share what you learn with me?”

“When I can” was Brett’s obscure promise.

Susan realized he had given her no guarantees, but she had been planning yet another visit to Perry Island anyway, although she saw no reason to admit this to Brett. “Tell me what you want to know” was all she said.

He did.

And many of Susan’s neighbors were awakened that morning by her indignant cry of “He said what?!”