“Why don’t you just tell me about the characteristics that you didn’t like, as well as anything you know about her background, relatives, marriage-you know the drill.”

“Well, Donald and Nadine moved in next door just a few months ago. And about a week later, Nadine moved into my kitchen.”

“What?”

Susan sighed. “Nadine had too much free time and was just a bit too self-involved. I had offered to help them out when they moved in-tell them the name of the best dry cleaner, stuff like that. You know how you do with a new neighbor.”

Brett smiled at her. “I know how nice people like you and Jed do, yes. Go on.”

“Well, in their case none of that was really necessary. Donald’s mother has lived in town for years. In fact, Nadine told me about a wonderful dressmaker downtown who I’d never heard of…”

“So she knew her way around Hancock.”

“Yes. The problem was, I think, that she didn’t have enough to do and she needed a lot of attention. So she began to stop over here once a day or so-just to chat. That’s how she put it.”

“Bugged the hell out of you, didn’t it?” Brett’s smile broadened into a grin.

“Yes. It did. There was no getting rid of her. She didn’t take hints. I don’t think she even heard hints. I would say things like I’ve got to get this done and she would tell me to go ahead and she’d keep me company. But it wasn’t only her presence that was so irritating; it was that she was so sure I wanted to hear every detail of her life, everything she thought…” Susan stopped. “But that doesn’t mean I know everything about her life.”

“You didn’t listen,” Brett guessed.

“Most of the time, no. Oh, I did at first. I heard about every place she had lived and how Hancock compared. And her problems with decorators and deliverymen when she was getting settled. And how hard it was on her that she had to be home to answer the door for all these people and how they didn’t show up on time. And the store that sent the wrong curtain fabric… Things that happen to everyone. Minor things that happen to everyone. But Nadine thought that when they happened to her, they were a crisis. And she made a big deal about them. She was always writing letters to the heads of huge international conglomerates to complain about an employee or some small thing that had happened to her. And she got responses, too-polite ones. I was amazed.”

“Employees? Did she ever get anyone fired?”

“Not that I know of, but she sure tried. She used to rant and rage over the simplest mistake. Like if she ordered a salad and asked for the dressing on the side but then it came drenched in blue cheese, she wouldn’t just send it back and ask for a substitution; she would insist on speaking to the owner of the restaurant and then go on and on-in public-about what had happened. And it happened a lot because she never just ordered what was on the menu. She always had to have something special. We ate dinner with them once at the Hancock Inn, but Jed said never again. Do you think that could be the answer? Maybe she was killed by an angry… uh… an angry unemployed person,” she said, realizing just how silly she sounded.

But Brett took her suggestion seriously. “People have been killed for less than that. The loss of a job can change a person’s life. And not for the better.”

“But I don’t know anyone who was actually fired.”

“It’s still something to keep in mind. Tell me more about her. If she’s been sitting in your house daily for the past few months talking, you must have learned a lot.”

“Besides that she liked to listen to herself.”

“Besides that she liked to listen to herself,” he agreed. “How about some background. Where she grew up. Does she have any family living nearby? What sort of shape was her marriage in?”

“Actually she grew up in Connecticut, up near Hartford. She was an only child. You know, I always wondered if that’s why she expected so much attention. It can be lonely being an only child. Anyway, she seemed to have a fairly normal childhood. She complained that her mother was a feminist and didn’t allow her to get involved in activities she considered sexist-like the Girl Scouts-which is not at all a sexist organization as far as I’m concerned…” Susan realized she was about to go off on a tangent and returned to the topic. “She was encouraged to play sports on the boys’ teams. But other than that, it sounded like she lived a traditional suburban life. I don’t remember her mentioning her father too much. He was an expert in bridge engineering and was away from home a lot.

“I do know she met Donald in college. She went to Trinity and I think he went to Fairfield. They met her junior year and got married right after graduation.”

“What was her major? What sort of work did she do?”

“Interestingly enough, while she listened to her mother and prepared for a career-she had a degree in marketing-she never worked. She always claimed that Donald wanted a traditional stay-at-home wife and so that’s what she did.”

“So she didn’t listen to her mother after all.”

“I guess not. As far as I know, she’s never worked. In fact I always thought that was a bit odd. I mean, she doesn’t have any children and not a whole lot of interest in domestic things. She hated to cook although she has a wonderful kitchen. Her house is immaculate, but she has a cleaning woman who comes twice a week so I don’t suppose she spends any time on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors.”

“What does she do with her time? Does she have any hobbies?”

“Not unless you consider shopping and taking care of yourself a hobby.”

“What sort of care?”

“Oh, you know. Working out. Getting your hair done. Manicures, pedicures.”

“The usual.”

“And the not so usual as well. She went to a specialist in some sort of stone massage, and an Alexander Technique teacher, a Rolfer, two or three herbalists, a practitioner of Chinese medicine…”

“Any reason why she took such good care of herself?”

“Nothing else to do?” Susan realized she was being seriously bitchy. “I shouldn’t say that. She had a cancer scare a few years ago-irregular cells in a Pap smear-and she always said it changed her life. It probably did. I’ve been lucky enough to have good health. I don’t know how I would react to something like that.”

“After the initial shock was over, you would be mature and sensible, just like you always are.”

“I hope so,” she said, less assured than he was on this subject. “Anyway, Nadine put an enormous amount of time and effort into taking care of herself.”

“And money. I assume these services aren’t cheap.”

“No, but they have a lot of money.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, Donald has sold a lot of houses around here in the past few years. And there aren’t many that would sell for under a million and most go for a lot more than that. I don’t know exactly what percentage of the sale goes into his pocket, but more than enough for Nadine to indulge, I’d imagine.”

“Six percent.”

“What?”

“The agent’s fee-it can run as high as six percent of the sale price. Erika thinks we need more room now that the baby’s here so we’ve just begun looking at houses in the area-not that a policeman’s income buys much around here.” He frowned. “So you said Donald works for his mother.”

“Well, he’s certainly connected to her agency. If you’re in the market for a house, you would have heard of Blaine Baines.”

“If you’ve picked up any newspaper in southern Connecticut or the Real Estate section of the Sunday New York Times, you’ve heard of Blaine Baines Executive Homes and Estates. The ads are everywhere. And they all have her photograph prominently displayed. Is she old enough to have grown children?”

“I think she’s using a photograph that was taken more than a few years ago,” Susan explained. “Although she looks pretty good for a woman in her early sixties. But I did hear that one of her husbands was a plastic surgeon.”