We'll Meet Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

talk to me? I just don’t know.”
    But I can hope, Fran thought, remembering that conversation as she raced down the hall to the makeup room.
    Cara, the makeup artist, snapped a cape around her neck. Betts, the hairdresser, rolled her eyes. “Fran, give me a break. Did you sleep in your ski cap last night?”
    Fran grinned. “No. Just wore it this morning. Perform a miracle, the two of you.”
    As Cara applied base makeup and Betts turned on the curling iron, Fran closed her eyes and thought of her lead sentence: “At 7:30 this morning, the doors of Niantic Prison opened and Molly Carpenter Lasch walked down the driveway to make a brief but startling statement to the press.”
    Cara and Betts worked with lightning speed, and a few minutes later, Fran was deemed camera ready.
    “A new me,” she confirmed as she studied the mirror. “You’ve done it again.”
    “Fran, it’s all there. It’s just that your coloring is monochromatic,” Cara told her patiently. “It needs accentuating.”
    Accentuating
, Fran thought. That was the last thing I ever wanted. I was always accentuated. The shortest kid in kindergarten. The shortest kid in the eighth grade. The peanut. She’d finally grown all in a spurt, during her junior year at Cranden, and she’d managed to reach a respectable five five.
    Cara was taking off the cape. “You look great,” she pronounced. “Knock ’em dead.”
    Tom Ryan, a seasoned newsman, and Lee Manners, a brightly attractive former weather girl, were the anchors of the six o’clock news. At the end of the show, as they unsnapped their mikes and stood up, Ryan commented, “Good piece on Molly Lasch, Fran.”
    “Call for you, Fran; pick up on four,” a voice from the control room directed.
    To Fran’s surprise, it was Molly Lasch. “Fran, I thought I recognized you at the prison this morning. I’m glad it was you. Thanks for the report you just did. At least you sound as though you may have an open mind about Gary ’s death.”
    “Well, I certainly
want
to believe you, Molly.” Fran realized she was keeping her fingers crossed.
    Molly Lasch’s voice became hesitant. “I wonder, do you think you’d be interested in investigating Gary ’s death? In exchange, I’d be willing to let you make me a subject for one of the news feature programs on your network. My lawyer tells me that just about every one of the networks has called, but I’d rather go with someone I know and feel I can trust.”
    “You bet I’m interested, Molly,” Fran said. “In fact, I was planning to call you about exactly that.”
    They agreed to meet the next morning at Molly’s house in Greenwich. When Fran replaced the receiver, she raised her eyebrows at Tom Ryan. “Class reunion tomorrow,” she said. “This should be interesting.”

5
    The corporate headquarters of Remington Health Management Organization was located on the grounds of Lasch Hospital in Greenwich. Chief Executive Officer Dr. Peter Black always arrived at his office there at 7 A.M. sharp. He claimed that the two hours of work he got in before the staff arrived were the most productive of his day.
    Uncharacteristically on that Tuesday morning, Black had turned on the television to NAF.
    His secretary, who had been with him for years now, had told him that Fran Simmons had just started working for the network, and she had reminded him of who Fran was. Even so, it had been a surprise to see that she was the reporter covering Molly’s release from prison. Fran’s father’s suicide had occurred only weeks after Black accepted Gary Lasch’s offer to join the hospital, and for months the scandal had been the big story in town. He doubted that anyone who had lived in Greenwich at the time had forgotten it.
    Peter Black had been watching the news program this morning because he’d wanted to see his former partner’s widow.
    Frequent glances at the screen to be sure he did not miss the segment he was awaiting had finally forced him to put