“Why not? Were they so incapacitated that they couldn’t have killed someone, or taken the key and stashed empty bottles in that drawer?”

“No. We had residents who were quite…” She paused as if searching for the correct word.

“Spry?” Susan suggested.

“Spry and more. Most of the residents were elderly and many were incapacitated, but a few were perfectly able to… to do what you just described.”

“Were the residents ever considered suspects?”

“Not that I know of. Not seriously. The police questioned them of course, but one was the result of a lethal injection, one was suffocation, and… and another was pushed off the top of the building.” She shuddered. “That was Mrs. Hershman. I found her.”

“Was she the next person to die after Mr. Roper?” Susan asked.

“No, she was the last. The next person was Mr. Blake. He suffocated.”

“So everyone knew it was murder right away.”

“No, an accident. He was found tangled in his blankets. It sounds odd, but it could have been just one of those things-an old man thrashing around in the night. Anyway, no one thought of murder until Miss Breen died the very next day. She was a lovely lady, a retired school teacher-Latin. She had lived all over the world teaching in unusual places and she knew so many interesting people. P.I.C.C. was pretty out of the way, but she had lots of visitors, people she had taught mainly. Two of her students are now professors at Yale and it was one of them who went to the police and insisted on an investigation. If he had done it earlier, it might have stopped the murderer.”

“She was the one who died because of an injection?”

“Yes… There was no reason for her to have been given it at all, so once it was found in the body, everyone knew something was wrong. But the results of the autopsy didn’t get back until the afternoon of the day I found Mrs. Hershman.”

“Tell me about that.”

Shannon sighed. “She… She was… It was awful. It was late morning and I went outside to get some fresh air. P.I.C.C. was clean and it certainly didn’t smell the way some nursing homes do, but it was hot. Many of our residents had circulation problems of some sort and they all got chilled easily so the thermostats were always turned up way too high. Anyway, I went out to cool off and I found her. She was lying on the ground. Her arms and legs were in a weird position, but I just thought she had fallen down. I called to her and touched her gently on the shoulder, but she didn’t move. I thought maybe she was in shock so I took off my sweater and put it around her and ran back inside to get help. She was dead and… and it was obvious right away that she hadn’t just tripped and fallen down.”

“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.