We'll Meet Again

90

“No more, Jenna, that’s definitely enough. I swear to you I’m getting a buzz on.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Moll, you’ve had a glass and a half.”

“I thought this was at least my third.” She shook her head as if trying to clear it. “You know, this wine is potent.”

“What’s the difference? With all you have on your mind, you might as well relax. You hardly touched dinner.”

“I ate plenty, and it was good. I’m just not very hungry.” She raised her hand in protest as Jenna poured more wine into her glass. “No, I can’t drink any more. My head is spinning.”

“Let it spin.”

They were seated in the study, both with their heads back, their bodies sunk into comfortable, overstuffed chairs that faced each other across a small, low table. For several minutes they sat in silence, while a jazz piano CD played softly in the background.

In a pause between songs, Molly spoke. “You know what, Jen? Last night I had a nightmare. It was very unsettling. I thought I saw Wally Barry at the window.”

“Good Lord!”

“I wasn’t scared, just startled. Wally would never hurt me; I know that. But after seeing him at the window, I turned back and all of a sudden this room looked the way it did that night when I came home and found Gary dead at his desk. And I think I’ve figured out why I made that connection-I believe Wally really was here that night.”

Molly had kept her head back while she spoke. She was starting to feel so sleepy. She tried to keep her eyes open and to raise her head. What had she just said? Something about finding Gary.

Finding Gary .

Suddenly her eyes were fully open, and she sat forward.

“Jen, I just said something important!”

Jenna laughed. “Everything you say is important, Molly.”

“Jen, this wine tastes funny.”

“Well, I won’t tell the mighty Cal you said that. He would be insulted.”

“Click, snap. That’s another sound I heard.”

“Molly, Molly, you’re getting hysterical.” Jenna stood and crossed to her friend. Standing behind the chair, she put her arms around her and bent her head forward so that her cheek was resting against Molly’s head.

“Fran thinks I’m going to commit suicide.”

“Are you?” Jenna asked calmly, relaxing her embrace and standing back, then moving to sit on the table in front of Molly.

“I thought I was. I planned to. That’s why I got all dressed up. I wanted to look classy when they found me.”

“You always look classy, Molly,” Jenna said softly. She slid Molly’s wineglass closer to her. Molly reached for it and knocked it over.

“Not classy to be clumsy,” she murmured, slumping back in her chair. “Jen, I did see Wally at the window that night. I’m sure of it. It may have been a dream last night, but it wasn’t before. Call him, okay? Ask him to come over and talk to me.”

“Molly, be reasonable.” Jenna chided. “It’s ten o’clock.” Grabbing their cocktail napkins, she mopped the spilled wine from the tabletop. “I’ll get you a refill.”

“Noo… no… no. I’ve had enough.”

My head hurts, Molly thought. Click, snap. “Click, snap,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“The sound I heard that night. Click… snap… click, click, click.”

“You heard that, dear?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Molly, I swear you are getting your memory back. You should have gotten a buzz on sooner. You just sit there and relax. I’ll get you that refill.”

Molly yawned as Jenna picked up the empty glass and hurried to the kitchen.

“Click, click, click,” Molly said aloud, in synch with the clicking sound Jenna’s high heels made on the hallway floor.

91

As he drove to Greenwich, Philip decided that he should at least give Molly a few minutes’ warning before he arrived on her doorstep. He dialed her house and waited in anticipation for either her or Jenna to answer.

He listened with growing concern as the telephone rang seven, eight, ten times. Either Molly was in such a dead sleep that she couldn’t hear the phone, or she had turned off the ringer.

But she wouldn’t turn it off, Philip decided. Very few people have her number, and she surely wouldn’t want to be out of touch with any one of us at this point.

He remembered his conversation with her that afternoon. Molly had sounded so listless, so depressed then- maybe she is already asleep. No, Jenna is with her, Philip reminded himself as he turned into Molly’s street at the intersection.

But maybe Jenna left early. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard: ten o’clock. It’s not that early, he thought. Maybe she’s finally getting a decent night’s sleep. Should I just turn around and go home? he wondered.

No. Even if he had to rout Molly out of bed to tell her about the Hilmers’ testimony, he was going to do it. Nothing short of a miracle would ease her mind more than that news. It would be worth waking her up for.

As he neared Molly’s house, a squad car with its lights flashing sped past him. Horrified, he watched as it turned into Molly’s driveway.

92

Jenna came back to the study with a fresh glass of wine for Molly. “Hey, what are you up to?” she asked.

Molly had moved to the sofa, where she had spread out all the photographs they had been going through earlier.

“Memory lane,” she replied, her words slurred. She took the glass and lifted it in a mock toast. “Lord, look at the four of us,” she said, tossing a photo on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “We were happy then… or at least, I thought so.”

Jenna smiled. “We were happy, Molly. The four of us made quite a showing for ourselves. It’s too bad it had to end.”

“Uh-huh.” Molly took a sip of wine and yawned. “My eyes are closing. Sorry…”

“The best thing in the world for you right now is to finish that wine and get a good, long sleep.”

“The four of us,” Molly said, her tone groggy. “I like to be with you, Jenna, but not with Cal.”

“You don’t like Cal, do you, Molly?”

“You don’t like him either. In fact I think you hate him. That’s why you and Gary…”

Molly was vaguely aware of the glass being taken from her hand, then of Jenna’s arm around her, of Jenna holding the glass to her lips, of Jenna whispering soothingly, “Swallow, Molly, just keep swallowing…”