We'll Meet Again

65

“It was one of the hardest things I ever did in my entire life,” Edna Barry explained on the telephone to Marta Jones. She had just finished tidying up the kitchen after dinner, and it seemed a good time to have a final cup of tea and get her story across to her friend.

“Yes, it must have been dreadful for you,” Marta agreed.

Edna had no doubt that Fran Simmons would be nosing around again, asking more questions, and she might very well drop over to see Marta. Well, if she did, Edna wanted to be sure her neighbor got the story right. This time, Edna vowed, Marta was going to pass on information that wouldn’t hurt Wally. She took another sip of tea and moved the phone to her other ear. “Marta,” she continued, “you were the one who put the idea in my head that Molly might be dangerous, remember? I tried not to think about it, but she is acting strange. She’s very quiet. Sits for hours, just by herself. Doesn’t want anyone around. Today she was on the floor, going through boxes. There were stacks of pictures of the doctor.”

“No!” Marta gasped. “I would think she’d have gotten rid of them long ago. Why would she hold on to those? Would you want to look at a picture of a man you killed?”

“That’s what I mean about her acting so strange,” Edna said. “Then yesterday, when she said she never took the key from the hiding place in the garden-well, Marta, I realized then that all that business about forgetting everything started before the doctor died. I think it all began when she had the miscarriage. Depression must have set in then, and after that Molly was never the same.”

“Poor woman,” Marta said with a sigh. “It would be a lot better for her if they put her someplace where she can get real help, but I’m glad you’re staying away from her, Edna. Don’t forget, Wally needs you, and he has to be your first priority.”

“That’s the way I feel. Marta, it’s good to have a friend like you I can talk to. I’ve been so upset, and I had to get it off my chest.”

“I’m always here for you, Edna. Get to bed early and get a good night’s sleep.”

Satisfied at having accomplished her purpose, Edna got up, turned off the kitchen light, and went into the den. Wally was watching the all-news channel. Edna’s heart sank when she saw a tape of Molly at the prison gate. The anchorman was saying, “It was only ten days ago that Molly Carpenter Lasch was released from Niantic Prison after serving five and a half years for killing her husband, Dr. Gary Lasch. Since then she has been arrested for the murder of her husband’s lover, Annamarie Scalli, and Prosecutor Tom Serrazzano is pressing to have her parole revoked.”

“Wally, why don’t you switch channels?” Edna suggested.

“Are they going to put Molly back in prison, Mom?”

“I don’t know, dear.”

“She looked so scared when she found him. I was sorry for her.”

“Wally, don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do, Mom. I was there, remember?”

Panicked, Edna grabbed her son’s face with both hands and forced him to look up at her. “Do you remember how the police scared you when Dr. Morrow was killed? How they kept asking you questions about where you were on the night he died? Do you remember, before they came I made you put your walking cast back on and use your crutches so they’d leave you alone?”

Afraid, he tried to pull away. “Mom, let go of me.”

Edna held eye contact with her son. “Wally, you must never talk about Molly or that night. Not ever again, do you understand that?”

“I won’t.”

“Wally, I’m not going to work for Molly anymore. In fact, you and I are going on a trip. We’ll drive far away somewhere, maybe to the mountains, or maybe even to California. Would you like that?”

He looked doubtful. “I think so.”

“Then swear you’ll never talk about Molly again.”

There was a long pause before he said quietly, “I swear, Mom.”