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93

“There’s Je

Jacobs had ridden in the squad car with Fran and two police officers. Even before the vehicle had come to a complete stop, Fran had the door on her side open. As she jumped out, she saw another car racing up the driveway behind them.

Unmindful of the steady throb of pain emanating from her ankle, she ran up the steps to the house and pressed her finger on the bell.

“Fran, what’s going on?”

Fran turned to see Philip Matthews racing up the steps. Was he afraid for Molly too? she wondered fleetingly.

Inside, she could hear chimes echoing through the house.

“Fran, did something happen to Molly?” Philip was beside her now, flanked by the police officers.

“Philip! It’s Je

“Break in the door,” Jacobs ordered the policemen.

The door, made of solid mahogany, took a precious full minute before their battering ram dislodged it from its hinges and crashed to the floor.

As they ran into the entrance hall, a new sound echoed through the house-Je

They found her kneeling beside the couch in the study, where Molly was slumped over, her head partially covering a picture of her murdered husband, Gary Lasch. Molly’s eyes were open and staring. Her hand dangled limply over the side of the couch. A wineglass lay on the carpet, its contents soaking into the deep pile.

“I didn’t know what she was doing!” Je

“Get away from her.” With abrupt force, Philip Matthews grabbed Je

Before anyone could move to assist him, he had lifted her in his arms. Moving swiftly he plunged through the door that led from the study into the downstairs guest bathroom. Jacobs and one of the officers followed him inside.

Within seconds Fran heard the sound of the shower ru

Jacobs emerged from the bathroom. “Get the oxygen from the car!” he ordered one of the policemen. “Send for an ambulance,” he told the other.

“She kept saying over and over again that she wanted to die,” Je

“If Molly was ever crazy, Je

“Yes, I was.” Molly, supported by Philip and one of the policemen, was being helped back into the room. She was soaking wet from the shower and still heavily sedated, but there was no mistaking the total condemnation in her eyes and voice.

“You killed my husband,” she said. “You tried to kill me. It was you I heard that night. Your heels ru

“Wally Barry saw you, Je



“Je

Je

Then she stopped, knowing it was useless. Knowing she was trapped.Knowing it was over.

“Why, Molly?” she asked. “Why?” Her voice began to rise. “WHY? Why did your family have money? Why did Gary and I need to marry what you and Cal could offer us? Why did I introduce Gary to you? Why all the foursomes? So that Gary and I could be together as much as possible, never mind all the times we were alone together over the years.”

“Mrs. Whitehall, you have the right to remain silent,” Jacobs began.

Je

“I was now the other other woman. I came here to have it out with Gary. I parked down the street so you wouldn’t see my car if you were early. He let me in. We quarreled. He kept trying to make me get out before you got home. Then he sat at his desk and turned his back to me and said, ‘I’m begi

The anger left her voice. “And then it happened. I didn’t plan to do it. I didn’t mean to do it.”

The shriek of the approaching ambulance broke the silence that followed as Je

94

“Ratings for last night’s show are great,” Gus Brandt said, six weeks later. “Congratulations. It’s the best True Crime episode we ever aired.”

“Well, you can thank yourself for setting it in motion,” Fran told him. “If you hadn’t assigned me to cover Molly’s release from prison, none of this would have happened, or if it had, it would have happened without me.”

“I especially like what Molly Lasch said in the wrap-up, the part about having faith in yourself and hanging in when you feel overwhelmed. She credits you with keeping her from committing suicide.”

“Je

“It would have been a loss-she is one beautiful woman,” Gus said.

Fran smiled. “Yes, and she always has been-on the inside as well as the outside. That’s much more important, don’t you think?”

Gus Brandt returned Fran’s smile, and he gradually shaped his expression into one of benevolence. “Yes, I do. And speaking of important, I think it’s time you gave yourself a little break. Go ahead, take a day off. How about Sunday?”

Fran laughed. “Is there a Nobel Prize for generosity?”

Hands in her pockets, her head down, in what her stepbrothers called “Fra

I’ve been traveling on reserve ever since that day I waited for Molly to come out of Niantic Prison, she admitted to herself. It’s all behind me now, she thought, but I’m still licking my wounds.

So much had happened. In his effort to escape a possible death sentence, Lou Knox had willingly volunteered whatever information he could about Cal Whitehall and the mysterious doings at Lasch Hospital. The pistol he had in his pocket when he was arrested at the farmhouse had been the weapon used to kill Dr. Jack Morrow. “ Cal told me that Morrow was one of those guys who always make trouble,” he had told the cops. “He was asking too many questions at the hospital about some dead patients. So I took care of him.”