I remember at the time being terrified that they might be arguing about me, Annamarie thought. I ran rather than risk having Jack confront me there; I was that sure Jack had found out.

But later, when Jack had stopped her in the corridor, he had given no indication of being angry with her. Instead, he had asked if she was going to visit her mother soon. When Annamarie told him she would be driving up the weekend after next, he said that he was going to copy a very important file he had compiled, and he asked if she please would keep the copy in her mother’s attic. He’d get it from her later.

I was so relieved he hadn’t found out about Gary and me and so tortured over what I knew about the hospital that I wasn’t even curious about what was in the file, Annamarie thought. He said he’d give it to me soon and made me promise that I wouldn’t tell anyone about it. But he never did give it to me, and a week later he was dead.

“Annamarie?”

Startled, Annamarie looked up. She’d been so immersed in thought that she had not seen Molly Lasch come in. One glance at the other woman and she suddenly felt heavy and unattractive. The oversized sunglasses could not hide Molly’s exquisite features. The hands that untied the belt of her coat were long and slim. When she pulled the scarf from her head, her hair was darker than Annamarie remembered, but still fine and silky.

Molly studied Annamarie as she slid into the seat opposite her. She’s not what I expected, Molly thought. She’d seen Annamarie Scalli in the hospital a few times and remembered her as being very pretty, with a provocative figure and a mass of dark hair.

There was nothing provocative about this plainly dressed woman across from her. Her hair was short now, and while her face was still pretty, it was somewhat puffy. She was heavier than Molly remembered. But her eyes were lovely, deep brown with dark lashes, although the expression Molly saw in them was one of unhappiness and fear.

She’s afraid of me, Molly thought, amazed that she might have that effect on someone.

The waitress reappeared, friendlier now. Annamarie could see that she was impressed by Molly.

“Tea with lemon, please,” Molly said.

“And more coffee for me, if it’s not too much trouble,” Annamarie added as the waitress turned away.

Molly waited until they were alone before she said, “I’m grateful you agreed to meet me. I know this is probably as awkward for you as it is for me, and I promise I won’t keep you too long, but you can help me if you’ll be honest with me.”

Annamarie nodded.

“When did your relationship with Gary begin?”

“A year before he died. My car wouldn’t start one day, and he gave me a ride home. He came in for a cup of coffee.” Annamarie looked steadily at Molly. “I knew he was getting ready to hit on me. A woman can always tell, can’t she?” She paused for a moment, looking down at her hands. “The truth is, I had a huge crush on him, and so I made it easy for him.”

He was getting ready to hit on her, Molly thought. Was she the first? Probably not. The tenth? she wondered. She’d never know. “Was he involved with any other nurses?”

“None that I knew of, but then I’d only been working at the hospital a few months when I became involved with him. He did stress the need for absolute discretion, which suited me fine. I come from a strict Italian Catholic family, and my mother would have been heartbroken if she’d known I was carrying on with a married man.

“Mrs. Lasch, I want you to know-” Annamarie stopped as the waitress returned with the tea and more coffee. She didn’t slam the cup down in front of Molly Lasch, Annamarie noticed.

When the waitress was out of earshot, she continued: “Mrs. Lasch, I want you to know that I absolutely, profoundly regret what happened. I know it destroyed your life. It ended Dr. Lasch’s life. I gave up my baby because I wanted him to have a clean start with people who would give him a happy, two-parent home. Maybe someday, when he’s an adult, he’ll want to see me. If he does, I hope he’ll be able to understand and even forgive me. You may have taken his father’s life, but my actions set this entire tragedy in motion.”

“Your actions?”

“If I hadn’t gotten involved with Dr. Lasch, none of this ever would have happened. If I hadn’t called him at home, you probably would never have known.”

“Why did you call him at home?”

“Well, first of all, he told me that you and he had been discussing divorce, but that he didn’t want you to know there was another woman in the picture. He said it would complicate things for him with the divorce, and it would just make you jealous and vindictive.”

So that’s what my husband was telling his girlfriend about me? Molly thought. He said that we were talking about divorce, and that I was jealous and vindictive? That’s the man I went to prison for killing?

“He said it was just as well that you lost the baby; he said a baby would only have complicated the breakup.”

Molly sat in stunned silence. Dear God, could Gary really have said that? she thought. He said it was just as well I lost the baby.

“But when I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out. Told me to get rid of it. He stopped coming to see me and even ignored me at the hospital. His lawyer phoned and offered a settlement, provided I signed a nondisclosure statement. I called your home because I had to talk to him, and he wouldn’t see me at the hospital. I was desperate; I wanted to discuss with him whether or not he planned to be involved with his child. At that time I had no intention of giving it up for adoption.”

“And I picked up the phone and overheard the call.”

“Yes.”

“Did my husband ever talk about me to you, Annamarie? I mean, other than to say we were talking about divorce?”

“Yes.”

“Please, tell me what he said. I have to know.”

“I realize now that anything he said to me about you then was because he thought it was what I wanted to hear.”

“I’d still like to know exactly what that was.”

Annamarie paused uncertainly, then looked directly at the woman across from her, a woman who at first she had disdained, then hated, and now, finally, was beginning to feel some compassion for. “He called you a boring Stepford wife.”

A boring Stepford wife, Molly thought. For a moment it seemed to her that she was once more in prison, eating the tasteless food, hearing the click of locks, lying awake for sleepless night after sleepless night.

“As a husband-and as a doctor-he wasn’t worth the price you paid for killing him, Mrs. Lasch,” Annamarie said quietly.

“Annamarie, you’ve made it very clear that you believe I killed my husband, but, you see, I’m not so sure myself. I genuinely don’t know what happened. I’m not convinced that I won’t regain some memory of that night. At least, that’s what I’m working toward. Tell me, where were you on that Sunday evening?”

“In my apartment, packing.”

“Was anyone with you at the time?”

Annamarie’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Lasch, you’re wasting your time if you came here with the purpose of suggesting I had anything to do with your husband’s death.”

“Do you know of anyone who might have had a reason to kill him?” Molly could see the startled look in the eyes of the other woman. “Annamarie, you’re afraid of something. What is it?”

“No I’m not. I don’t know anything more. Look, I have to go now.” Annamarie put her hand on the table, preparing to stand.

Molly reached over and grasped her wrist. “Annamarie, you were only in your early twenties then. Gary was a sophisticated man. He wronged both of us, and we both had reason to be angry. But I don’t think I killed him. If you have any reason to think there was someone else who might have had a grudge against him, please, please, tell me who it is. At least it would give me a starting point. Did he quarrel with anyone?”