FIVE

KATHLEEN STARED BRIEFLY AT HER FRIEND BEFORE REACHING down to pick up one of the bags of laundry. “I’ll sort. You’ll tell me what you know.”

Susan grabbed another bag and dumped the contents into a nearby rolling hamper. “We’ll do the laundry together. If I don’t keep moving I may start screaming. I’ve been going nuts inside ever since Nadine called.”

“Nadine?”

“Nadine Baines. You know, my new next-door neighbor. You met her at the Valentine’s Day party we gave.”

“That’s right, I remember. So she called you today.”

“Yes, but, you see, she was here this afternoon and saw Shannon.” Susan stopped speaking and held up a tiny little tie-dyed T-shirt. “Well, at least the pattern hides the traces of spit up.”

“Susan…”

“Okay.” She tossed the shirt on top of one of the piles Kathleen was making on the fold-out table. “Nadine was here when the kids arrived today-they were a few hours early. Anyway, she didn’t say anything then-well, she couldn’t have. It was mayhem with the twins and all their stuff and the dogs. Anyway, she went home and pondered the problem-her words-and then she called me.” Susan frowned and picked up a white cotton blanket stained with baby vitamins.

“So she called. What did she say besides that she had been thinking about something?”

“Well, what she said is that she was chilled to the bone when Shannon walked in the door. Nadine tends to be a little dramatic,” Susan explained, tossing the blanket onto a growing pile of white laundry.

“So she knows her.”

“Yes. Well, I don’t think they’ve ever met. You see, Nadine and Donald have a summer house on Perry Island.”

“That’s in Maine?”

“No, it’s right off the Connecticut coast. It’s large enough to have a public ferry running to it a few times a day, but so small that most people haven’t heard of it. I think it’s mostly a summer resort with a small year-round community made up mostly of retired people. I think Nadine may have once told me that Donald grew up there. She talks so much that I don’t always listen. Anyway, they have a house. I don’t know how much they go there. There’s not a lot to do on the island unless you sail and they’ve never mentioned sailing. There aren’t even a lot of businesses on the island-a small grocery, a post office, a few gift shops, and a hair salon-as well as a nursing home.”

“A strange place for a nursing home, isn’t it?”

Susan paused. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know very much about where nursing homes are located-or why they’re located there. But the nursing home on the island is the point here. You see, a year or so ago, three people died in that home. And Nadine claims that Shannon was a nurse there at the time… And a suspect in the murders.”

“Which are still unsolved?” Kathleen guessed.

“Apparently so. I mean, that’s what Nadine said.”

“And you’re worried that a homicidal maniac is taking care of your grandchildren.”

“Yes.”

“So why don’t you just fire Shannon and find someone else?”

“She saved Ethan’s life this evening.”

“What?”

“She saved Ethan’s life.” Susan explained what had happened earlier.

Kathleen took a moment to drench five stained receiving blankets with Spray ’n Wash before tossing them into the washer and asking another question. “And you don’t think you could just ask her about what happened at the nursing home on Perry Island? I mean, it’s not an accusation.”

“I’m afraid she’ll leave. She’s a wonderful baby nurse and she’s concerned about Chrissy and… and what if she hadn’t been here when Ethan started choking? He could have died! Kathleen, I just can’t risk it!”

“But you don’t want a killer taking care of your grandchildren.”

“No, of course not. I just don’t know what to do. If only I could find out more. I don’t know Nadine all that well, but I know she tends to be a bit emotional. Maybe she’s wrong about all this. What if Shannon just looks like the nurse who was a suspect or has a similar name or something?”

“You know, I might be able to help you out. One of the men I worked with in the city retired to an island somewhere around here. I suppose it might be Perry Island.”

“It could be! There aren’t many islands nearby. I mean, there’s Fisher’s Island, but I doubt if a retired cop could afford anything there.”

“Well, we still exchange Christmas cards and I could check to see what the return address on the last one was.”

“And you could call him and ask about the nursing home deaths.”

“Susan, he probably doesn’t know anything, but I’ll try.”

“Right away?”

“I suppose anything is better than dealing with this mess,” Kathleen said, holding up a one-piece knitted suit covered with something that looked vaguely toxic.

“This may be the only time in my life when I’ve turned down an offer to help with the laundry,” Susan said, removing the garment from Kathleen’s hand and tossing it into a pan of sudsy water to soak. “But I’m so worried about all this. If you find out anything, call tonight-”

“What about the babies? Won’t the ringing phone wake them?”

“Call me on my cell phone. I’ll just turn it on to vibrate and keep it with me.”

“Fine. I’ll get going then.” Kathleen started for the stairs and then paused. “Are they gorgeous?”

Susan knew exactly whom she was talking about. “They are! Completely, absolutely, totally gorgeous!”

“No matter what I find out or don’t find out tonight, I’ll be over to see them first thing in the morning,” Kathleen promised, trotting up the stairs.

Alone again, Susan reached for the unopened box of Ivory Snow and poured the required amount into the machine. She turned a few knobs and leaned against its smooth enameled side as the wash cycle commenced.

The laundry took over an hour, but, despite her worries about Shannon, Susan found herself smiling as she folded immaculate tiny garments and placed them in little piles. Perhaps, she thought, examining her work, she should order one of those handwoven, gingham-lined laundry baskets from Martha Stewart’s Web site. It would look so much better than her old, ratty basket that still displayed the results of Clue’s teething many years ago.

Susan sighed and picked up the basket. Balancing it on her hip, she started up the stairs. She would leave it in the hallway outside of the nursery so as not to disturb the twins and then take a quick shower.

But she couldn’t even walk across her bathroom without moving the twins’ bath stuff. And how could she have forgotten about those towels with their dangerous fluff! She picked up the baby baths, dumped them in the Jacuzzi, sprayed them with lavender scented cleanser, rinsed them, and turned them over to drain. She put away the Johnson’s baby shampoo and Aveeno baby wash that Chrissy had brought and then grabbed her gorgeous new towels, rushed into the hall and dumped them down the laundry chute before returning to the bathroom and locating a set of older towels in the linen closet. Although not exactly threadbare, it had been years since they had shed loose fibers. She was hanging them on the brass towel bars when Jed came into the room, her cell phone in his hand.

“Kath’s on the line,” he said, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why did she call your cell?”

“She didn’t want to wake up the babies,” she explained, taking it. “Hi, Kath. Did you find out anything? Well, did you ask him to check around and let you know if he does find anything out?” Susan listened to the answer and Jed returned to their bedroom. A few minutes later, Susan found him sitting on the edge of their bed, playing with his new camera.

“Look at this. I think I got some great shots of Rosie. Ethan had his back to me and I was afraid he’d wake up if we turned him over.” He held out the camera. “Go ahead. Just press the button on the back. The arrows indicate the direction you want to go.”

Susan took the camera from him and stared at the screen that displayed the enchanting image of her granddaughter. “We have a problem,” she said quietly, going through the photos. Since Rosie couldn’t roll over yet, they were pretty much identical and didn’t take long to review.

“Could it wait until the morning? I hate to admit it, but those kids wore me out. I’m exhausted.”

Susan didn’t answer immediately. She knew she should share what she had learned about Shannon with her husband, but he had just said he was exhausted, and, to be honest, she would rather tell him after she had figured out what they should do. Of course, she owed it to him to be honest. Their marriage was based on honesty, on decisions made jointly. She opened her mouth to explain, but the screams from next door prevented anything further.

“My God! Listen to the lungs on those kids,” Jed exclaimed, pulling his pajamas out of his dresser drawer. He tossed them onto the bed, then headed toward the bathroom.

“Jed, don’t you think-?”

“If you’re going to suggest that we volunteer to take care of the babies, the answer is no, I don’t think we need to. They have a nurse. They have two parents. We’re the grandparents. We’re supposed to play with them and spoil them, not spend the middle of the night taking care of them. Not unless we have to.”

“But-”

“Susan, you do what you want, but unless a miracle happens and Chrissy and Stephen find an apartment they love at a price they can afford that is available immediately, my guess is that they’re going to be with us for a while-”

“Which will be wonderful!”

“Which will have its wonderful aspects. It will also be demanding and exhausting and difficult and I, for one, don’t want to lose any more sleep than is absolutely necessary.”

“I guess the kids will yell if they need us.”

“I’m sure they will.” Jed walked into the bathroom. “And they have Shannon to depend on too, remember” were his last words before the door swung closed behind him.

Susan put her cell phone down on the nightstand and retrieved her nightgown from beneath her pillow. It was one of her favorites, made from soft white lawn. She had bought it at Liberty ’s on her last trip to London. She looked at it, sighed, and headed for her dresser. She really didn’t want to get up to help with the twins, but, if necessary, she would and she’d be properly dressed. She rummaged around in her dresser until she found the tailored taupe cotton pajamas her mother-in-law had sent on her last birthday. She looked a little like a prisoner in a penal colony wearing them, but the twins were too young to notice the resemblance.

By the time Susan was ready for bed, the house was calm. Kathleen’s call had done nothing to still her worries about Shannon and she expected to have trouble falling asleep. She was wrong. The problem was staying asleep.

Susan was fairly sure she hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour when the twins began to cry again. Jed rolled over, groaned, and put a pillow over his head. She was about to do the same when she heard something hit the wall in the hallway outside of their bedroom. It sounded as though someone had dropped something… or someone! She jumped out of bed and ran to the hall.

Stephen was kneeling on the floor, rubbing the rug with one of the receiving blankets she had just washed, dried, and folded.

“Stephen?”

“I knocked Rosie’s bottle against the wall and the top fell off,” he explained, looking up. “And I think her patience is wearing a little thin,” he added as the crying became even louder.

“Where’s Chrissy?” Susan asked.

“She’s feeding Ethan, and Shannon is downstairs cleaning up the kitchen. I meant to put the pan I used to warm the formula in the sink, but I dropped it, too.” He looked sheepish. “You must think I’m trying to destroy your house in just one night.”

“I think you’re exhausted.” Susan swooped down and grabbed the cloth from his hand. “I’ll take care of this later. You go tell Chrissy that there will be another bottle of formula coming up right away. Then you go to bed. You’re supposed to be at work tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but Chrissy is tired, too.”

Susan smiled. What a wonderful son-in-law! “Don’t worry about Chrissy. I’ll make sure she has a long nap tomorrow, or I should say today. You go on.” She hurried downstairs, not giving him time to argue with her plan.

Years ago, when her kitchen had been remodeled, Susan had reserved a corner of the room for a small built-in desk. She did a lot of the household paperwork here, using the space to pay bills as well as look up recipes in her large cookbook collection that was shelved nearby. Shannon was standing in front of the desk as Susan entered the room.

“We need another bottle of formula,” Susan announced.

The nurse started, dropping whatever it was she held in her hand. “I… I’ll get it done right away.” Shannon hurried toward the stove.

Susan glanced at her desk. What had Shannon been examining in private? There were a half dozen cookbooks on her desk, but only two books lay open on the pile: Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume One, and Susan’s address book.

Загрузка...