SUSAN’S CELL PHONE RANG AS SHE CROSSED THE SOUND. Scrounging around in her large Coach bag, she managed to find the phone and answer before the caller hung up. It turned out to be Kathleen, who knew Susan’s penchant for misplacing her phone in the massive purses she preferred.

“Kathleen, you’ll never believe what I found out!” Susan said.

“I could say the same thing.” Kathleen’s answer was as clear as a bell.

Susan frowned. Just her luck-her new phone’s reception was best in the middle of the water. “Mike Armstrong is Shannon Tapley’s cousin.”

“Who is Mike Armstrong?”

“A young man who worked at the nursing home and my guess is that right now he’s a major suspect in the murders at P.I.C.C.”

“And he hasn’t been arrested?”

“Apparently no one knows where he is.”

“Not even his cousin?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to ask her about him?”

“I guess… Why are you calling?”

“Because I have some information I thought you might be interested in.”

“What?”

“Nadine and Donald were having marital problems-before his mother put him in charge of her company’s branch office and he bought the house next door to you.”

“You’re kidding! Where did you hear that?”

“At the office of Blaine Baines Executive Homes and Estates right here in Hancock.”

“Who told you? Who? Kath? Kathleen, I’m losing you… Damn.” Susan flipped her phone shut and reached out for the key in the ignition. As the ferry bumped gently into the dock, she started her car, and drove onto the mainland.

The days were getting longer, but it was dusk when Susan entered her house to the sound of babies screaming, dogs barking, and the phone ringing. Clue forgot all her obedience training and leapt all over Susan. “Down, Clue,” she ordered, smiling and roughing up the fur around her dog’s neck. “Let me get the phone.” She decided to deal with the simplest problem first.

“Susan? Hon?”

“Hi, Jed,” she said and waited for him to tell her that he was on his way to the train.

“I just spoke with Stephen. His new boss has asked him out for a drink. We both agreed that he should accept so I’m going to catch up on some work here at the office and meet him at Grand Central when he’s finished. That way we can drive home together.”

Susan realized that there was only one car waiting at the station. “That’s fine. I’ll… I’ll keep dinner warm for the two of you,” she promised-not that she had any idea what anyone in the house would get for dinner that evening.

“That would be great. Thanks, hon.”

Susan hung up and looked down at Clue. “You haven’t had a decent walk all week, have you, sweetie?”

Clue did her canine best to look neglected.

“I’m doing this because it’s the only way I can find a quiet moment to think,” Susan told her dog, reaching for the leash that usually hung over the end of the banister. Today it had been replaced by a pink knit baby blanket and one aqua crocheted bootie with a hole in the toe. A quick search revealed the leash lying on the floor nearby underneath an antique walnut console. Susan clipped it to Clue’s collar and escaped from the house before anyone could ask her to do anything.

“It’s not that I don’t love my grandchildren to death,” she explained to the dog as they trotted down the walk. “It’s just that I need to decide whether or not to tell Shannon what I learned today before I see her.”

Clue, in good golden retriever fashion, looked up with understanding eyes and Susan felt better although she knew the expression was genetic rather than emotional. She was feeling in her pocket for a plastic bag in case she needed to pick up after Clue, when Donald Baines appeared by her side.

“Susan! I was hoping to run into you!”

As he was wearing a sweat suit and running shoes, Susan thought perhaps he meant this literally. Donald was barely keeping up a slow jog, but sweating profusely. His outfit was brand new. What sort of man started an exercise program less than forty-eight hours after his wife was murdered, Susan wondered. “What can I do for you?” she asked automatically.

“The memorial service.” Donald breathing was labored.

“What about the memorial service?” She hoped he wasn’t going to ask her to bake for the reception afterward. As a good neighbor, she wouldn’t refuse, but between the twins and the murders… well, she was much busier than usual.

“We haven’t been in town for all that long…”

Susan began mentally reviewing her list of easy recipes fit for a funeral reception. She had just settled on tortellini salad when she realized that Donald was asking her for a more significant contribution.

“But I hardly knew her,” Susan protested.

“Nadine always said she could tell you anything.”

Nadine, in fact, had told Susan a lot, but that didn’t mean Susan had actually listened. Nor, for that matter, had Nadine said much, if anything, that might be useful in preparing a eulogy. “Perhaps your mother might speak…,” Susan said, grasping for an answer.

“I already suggested that to Mother, but she was afraid that the people who attended Nadine’s memorial service might think we were trying to get publicity for our company-which would be completely inappropriate.”

So Blaine Baines Executive Homes and Estates and Donald Baines Executive Homes was the same company! Susan tried to think of another option. “What about the neighbors where you lived before this? Perhaps one of them?”

“That town was nothing like Hancock. We only chose to live there because we found a property we couldn’t resist. And Nadine didn’t really get along with our neighbors there.”

Susan didn’t know what to say. Too many things seemed to be happening at once. But she knew her primary focus should be the babies’ safety and helping Chrissy. And that meant keeping Shannon out of jail. Which meant finding out who killed Nadine. And maybe, she realized, Donald had just offered her some help with doing just that.

“Perhaps if I could talk to other people who knew her better… longer…”

“I suppose.” Donald looked as though he didn’t believe his own words. “But I don’t see how you’re going to contact them.”

“Perhaps I could look in Nadine’s address book.”

“I can’t imagine where I’d find it.”

“Her desk? Pocketbook?”

“I’d rather not go through all that right now. Her purse is so personal. It doesn’t seem like something I should do. This has all been very upsetting, you know.”

Susan knew she was being insensitive, but really, he had asked her to do him a favor and seemed to be completely disinterested in helping her do it. If she hadn’t been hoping to learn something from all this, she would have had no trouble turning him down. And she was about to do that anyway, figuring that she could just get on with her own life, when Donald offered a solution.

“I could probably have my secretary give you a copy of our Christmas card list.”

“Your business list?”

“Oh, no. Mother kept that separately. I’m talking about our personal list. Nadine and I both believed that it was important to keep in touch with old friends and acquaintances and Christmas is surely the easiest time to do so, but my wife was always too busy during the holidays to send out cards so my secretary took over that chore. She-my secretary-is very efficient. I’m sure the list is up-to-date.”

“It might be helpful if I could take a look at it,” Susan said, trying not to sound too excited. She had investigated many murders, but no one had ever offered her a complete list of the deceased’s acquaintances.

“Then perhaps I should go to the office and ask for a copy of that list for you.” Donald paused and Susan had an idea.

“I could stop in and get it if that would be easier for you.”

“Oh, it would be. Everyone is so upset about Nadine’s death, of course, and they’re worried about me. If I go into the office, I’ll just have to waste time calming down my staff.”