73

As soon as Fran left the hospital, she phoned Molly from the car. “I really need to see you,” she said urgently

“I’m certainly here,” Molly told her. “Come by. Jenna is with me, but she has to leave soon.”

“I hope I don’t miss her. I’ve been trying to set up a date to talk with both her and her husband. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

I’m cutting it close, Fran thought, checking her watch and calculating that she had to start back to New York in the next half hour, but I do want to see for myself how Molly is doing. She has to have received the notice for the special meeting of the parole board scheduled for Monday. It occurred to her that if Jenna was still there, she couldn’t ask Molly about Gary Lasch’s inviting Peter Black to join him in running the hospital. She’d be sure to tell her husband. Of course, Fran realized that given their history, Molly might tell Jenna what they talked about anyhow.

At ten minutes to three, Fran turned into Molly’s driveway. There was a Mercedes convertible parked in front of the house, which she knew had to be Jenna’s car.

I haven’t seen her in so many years, Fran thought. I wonder if she’s still as great looking as she was back then? For a moment the old sense of inadequacy enveloped her as she thought of the years she had lived in Greenwich and gone to school there.

When they were at Cranden Academy, it was generally known that Jenna’s family didn’t have money. Jenna herself used to joke, “My great-great grandfather made big bucks, and his descendants spent it all!” But there was no debating her blue-blood lineage. Like Molly’s ancestors, Jenna’s had been late-seventeenth-century settlers from England who came to Boston as wealthy appointees of the Crown, not like most who arrived, hoping to scrape together a living in the New World.

Molly opened the door as Fran came up the walk. She obviously had been watching for her. Fran was startled at Molly’s appearance. She was ghostly pale, and her eyes were heavily circled. “ Reunion time,” she said. “Jenna waited to see you.”

Jenna was in the study, looking through a stack of photographs. She jumped up when she saw Fran. “We’ll meet again,” she sang as she swooped across the room to embrace her.

“Don’t remind me of that idiotic class history I wrote,” Fran begged with an exaggerated grimace. After the quick embrace, she stepped back. “Come on, Jenna, isn’t it about time you started to lose your looks?”

Jenna did look spectacular. Her dark brown hair fell with casual elegance to a point just above the collar of her jacket; her enormous hazel eyes positively glowed; her slender body moved with a seemingly unconscious air of careless elegance, as if the beauty she possessed and whatever compliments she received for it were no more than her due.

For an instant, Fran felt as though the clock had spun backwards. The closest she had been to Molly and Jenna during those four years at the academy was the time they all spent working on the yearbook. Today, this room reminded her of the yearbook office, with the piles of papers and files, the scattered photographs, the stack of old magazines.

“It’s been a useful day,” Molly said. “Jenna got here at ten and hasn’t let up since. We’ve been going through everything that was in Gary ’s desk and on the shelves of this room when it was his study. We got rid of a lot of stuff.”

“Not a fun day, but there’s time for that later, isn’t there, Fran?” Jenna asked. “When this nightmare is over, Molly is coming into the city and staying in the apartment with me. We’re going to spend days in the marvelous new salon I’ve found, just being pampered. We’re going on a shopping spree that will make the term ‘excessive’ seem inadequate, and then we’re going to dine our way through the best restaurants in New York. Le Cirque 2000 will be our kickoff.”

She spoke with such confidence that Fran suspended reality for a moment and actually believed her, even to the point of experiencing the feeling of being left out and a longing to be included in the plans. Again, shades of yesterday, she thought.

“I’ve given up believing in miracles, but if that miracle should happen, then Fran is definitely one of the celebrants,” Molly said. “Without you two in my corner, I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“You’ll make it, I promise, on my honor as the wife of Cal the Mighty,” Jenna said with a smile. “Speaking of whom, Fran, I’m afraid that this merger business has him busy and cranky at the same time, which is an awesome combination. I can get together with you almost any day next week, but it would be better to hold off trying to make an appointment with him.”

She hugged Molly. “I’ve got to run, and Fran may want to go over something with you. Fran, it’s really good to see you again. Next week, right?”

Fran thought fast. If Molly’s parole were to be revoked, it would happen on Monday, and Jenna would certainly want to be with her. “How about Tuesday, around ten, in your office?”

“Perfect.”

Molly walked with Jenna to the door. When she came back to the study, Fran said, “Molly, I’ve got to get back to New York on the double, so I’ll be quick. I’m sure you heard about the special meeting of the parole board on Monday.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve not only heard about it, I’ve received a notice to attend.” Molly’s face and voice were calm.

“I know what you’re thinking, but hang in there, Molly. Something’s going to break, I swear to you. I spoke to Annamarie’s sister today, and she told me some shocking things about Lasch Hospital. They involve your husband and Peter Black.”

“Peter Black didn’t kill Gary. They were close.”

“Molly, if even half of what I suspect about Peter Black is true, he’s a thoroughly evil man, capable of committing just about any crime. This is what I need to know from you, and hopefully you’ll have the answer: Why did your husband invite Peter Black to move here and share his practice? I’ve done research on Black. He was no great shakes as a doctor, and he didn’t have a nickel to contribute to the operation. Nobody just gives away half a hospital to an old buddy-which, in fact, I don’t believe Black really was to Gary Lasch. Do you know the reason Gary brought Black here?”

“Peter was already in place at the hospital when I started dating Gary. The subject never came up.”

“I was afraid of that. Molly, I don’t know what I’m looking for, but do me a favor and let me come back and go through all Gary’s files before you discard anything. Maybe I’ll find something helpful.”

“If you want,” Molly said indifferently. “I’ve got three full garbage bags already in the garage. I’ll put them in the storage closet for you. How about the photos?”

“Hold on to them for now. We may want some of them for the program when we do it.”

“Oh yes, the program!” Molly sighed. “Was it really just ten days ago that I asked you to start an investigation that I thought would prove my innocence? Oh, the naïveté of the lamb,” she said with a wan smile.

She’s given up hope, Fran thought. She knows in all likelihood that on Monday she’s on her way back to prison to serve the remaining time from her original ten-year sentence, and that’s even before the new trial for the murder of Annamarie Scalli. “Molly, look at me,” she commanded.

“I am looking at you, Fran.”

“Molly, you’ve got to trust me. I believe Gary ’s murder is only one of a series of murders that you certainly could not and did not commit. Believe me, I’m going to prove that, and when I do, you’re going to be completely exonerated.”

She’s got to believe that, Fran thought, hoping she had sounded sufficiently convincing. It was apparent to her that Molly was sinking into listless depression.

“And then I’ll get a makeover and dine my way through the best restaurants in New York.” She paused and shook her head. “You and Jenna are great pals, but I think you’re both mixing fact and fiction. I’m afraid my fate is sealed.”