“Susan.” He seemed unable to go on.

“Donald. Come in. I was just going to make some coffee and… and something to go with it.”

“I really don’t think I could eat anything-as good as your cooking is-but perhaps a cup of coffee.”

“Of course. Why don’t you go on into the living room-we’ll be more comfortable there-and I’ll bring it out? It will only take a few minutes.”

“That would be nice.”

“You know the way,” she added as he paused in the hallway.

“Yes, I was just afraid of knocking over some of these boxes…”

“Good Lord! I… I guess Jed moved some things out of his library last night. Baby presents,” she explained, staring at the large pile stacked on the floor near the door.

“Of course. I had forgotten. You’re new grandparents. Congratulations. I didn’t realize gifts were appropriate.”

“Oh, they’re not for us. They’re for the babies. My daughter and her family are living with us while they look for a place to live. My son-in-law just started a new job,” she said, naming a prestigious brokerage house.

Donald perked up immediately. “And they’ll be looking for a home in Hancock?”

“They’re talking about an apartment in the city, but I’m thinking that once they look around and see what they can afford, they might change their minds.”

“Well, don’t forget your new neighbor if they need a real estate broker,” Donald said, the possibility of a new client apparently wiping all thoughts of his loss from his mind.

“So you think you’ll stay in the house… instead of moving somewhere smaller?” Susan instantly regretted the question. How could she be so insensitive?

But Donald didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, I’ll stay here. That house is a great investment. I got a bargain on it and it’s going to do nothing but appreciate in this market.” He took a deep breath and returned to his depressed mode. “Of course, it won’t be the same without Nadine. She really knew how to turn a house into a home.”

That was the last thing Susan would have said about Nadine, but she wasn’t going to argue with a bereaved husband. “I… I’ll get our coffee.”

She was gone from the room for only a few minutes. When she returned, she discovered Donald standing in front of the bookshelves that lined one wall, examining a current best seller as though it was a rare first edition. “Have you read that one?” she asked, moving aside a large box from Hanna Anderson to make room for the tray she carried.

“No. I don’t have much time to read. Well, not as much as I would like. I have so many obligations for my work. Rotary, Elks, Kiwanis, Lions’ Club, golf. Networking is very important to a real estate agent,” he added, perhaps noticing Susan’s startled expression.

“Yes… Why are you here? I mean, is there anything I can do for you?” She passed him a cup of coffee.

“Your daughter found my wife’s body. Is there any cream?”

“I… she… yes… Well, it’s milk, not cream, but I could get some cream if-”

“No, this is fine.” He poured milk to the top of his cup, sipped, and grimaced. “Fine. Really fine.”

“Chrissy did find Nadine. She was looking for her dogs.”

“That’s what someone-one of the police officers, I think-told me. But I don’t understand how she got into the house.”

That had been one of the first questions discussed over dinner last night. “Chrissy was looking for her dogs and she heard one of them barking. She assumed they were in your yard, but, when she went to look, she discovered the back door already open. Rock and Roll, the dogs, are bullmastiffs and they can pretty much push open any door, but only if it isn’t latched.”

“Yes. That makes sense.” He nodded as though the simple thing she had just told him was important. “I’d like to see your daughter sometime.”

“She’s still asleep. But we talked a lot last night. Maybe I can help you?” She didn’t add that their conversation had been constantly interrupted by the babies’ demands and she probably knew more about the twins’ routine-or lack of such-than the situation surrounding Nadine’s discovery.

“You saw her body.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes. You must have been shocked.”

“Nadine would have hated people seeing her like that.”

“Uh… well, yes.” What a strange comment. It wasn’t as though Nadine had been discovered with her hair a mess or wearing old jeans. She had been covered with her own blood, for heaven’s sake. She looked at Donald carefully. Was he drugged? In shock? “When are you going to have the funeral?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.

“There will be an autopsy. The police insist, although it’s a complete waste of time. It was obvious to anyone who saw her yesterday what the cause of death was. And then her body will be released to me. I suppose we’ll hold a memorial service sometime after that. I must remember to say something about that in the obituary.” He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a small, elegant leather bound notebook with a tiny silver pen attached. He spent a moment writing and then looked up at Susan. “Would you like to hear the obituary or would you prefer to see it in the newspaper this evening?”

“I… Yes, I’d like to hear it. Did you write it yourself?”

“Mother and I got together over it late last night. I couldn’t sleep, see.”

“Of course. I understand.”

“And Mother made me hot Ovaltine like she used to when I was a boy, and we worked and worked. She thought it would take my mind off my problems. And that we should do what needed to be done. ‘Let’s get on with it’ is what she said. Mother is very big on getting on with it.”

Definitely drugged, Susan decided. “Do you want to read it to me?” she asked.

“Yes, I would like that. It may be a bit unconventional. It is unconventional, but I think unconventional times call for unconventional responses, don’t you?”

“Yes. Of course.” She picked up her cup, sipped, and hoped the expression on her face looked sympathetic as well as encouraging. “Go ahead.”

Donald took a deep breath and began reading in a voice about half an octave deeper than his normal speaking voice.

“ ‘Mrs. Nadine Baines, née Mortimer, died unexpectedly in her home yesterday afternoon.’ I thought that was probably more than enough detail. What do you think?”

Since Susan was sure the front page of the paper where this would be published would be covered with details of the murder itself she could only agree.

“ ‘Born in Connecticut, she graduated with honors from Trinity College. She was married to Donald Baines, owner of Donald Baines Executive Homes. The couple moved to Hancock this year. Mrs. Baines was a deacon at the Hancock Presbyterian Church as well as active in their Women’s Circle. She played on the mixed doubles tennis team at the Hancock Field Club.’ Well, she would have this summer. We had signed up,” he explained to Susan.

She nodded.

“ ‘She was also a member of the Women’s auxiliary of the Lions’ Club, the Kiwanis Club, the Elks, and the Rotary. A founding member of the Hancock Women’s Reading Circle, she also did volunteer work for the public library. A famous hostess, she will be sadly missed by her loving family and her friends.’ ”

“What do you think?”

“I… I think it’s very nice.” Susan stumbled over her words. This was the woman who had been wasting so much time in her kitchen for the past few months?

Shannon entered the room, a baby in each arm, and a frown on her face. “I think I’ve broken the babies’ bottle warmer.”

There was a crash and a splash and Donald Baines looked down at the Samarkand carpet. “I think I’ve broken your lovely coffee cup,” he explained needlessly, not taking his eyes off Shannon.