‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’ Chapters 71-80

Mary Higgins Clark,

AARP

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Published July 01, 2024

Illustration of a a person pulling on a police uniform shirt

Illustration by Maiyashu

Jump to chapters

Chapter 71 • Chapter 72 • Chapter 73 • Chapter 74 • Chapter 75 • Chapter 76 • Chapter 77 • Chapter 78 • Chapter 79 • Chapter 80

Chapter 71

Laurie and Alex sat in the den and compared notes after Regina’s interview.

“Was I too rough on Regina?” Alex asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Laurie said slowly. “But when you were finished, I don’t think anyone would doubt that there was a suicide note. But why would a fifteen-year-old have taken it?”

“You have your own theory, I know,” Alex said. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that whenever you ask me my theory, you already have one of your own.”

“Guilty as charged.” Laurie smiled. “My theory is that there was something in that note that Regina didn’t want her mother to read—and that it involved Betsy. Maybe the fact that her father was having an affair with her. That’s what I see. Remember how Regina described her parents as being ‘one soul’?”

“And that opens up the question—perhaps Betsy influenced her father’s reckless business decision to put everything he had into Powell’s hedge fund,” Alex suggested. “Doesn’t that give Regina a strong motive to take a God-given opportunity to punish Betsy?” he added.

“If I were in her shoes and had lost my parents and everything I had because of Betsy Powell,” Laurie told him, “I could kill. I know I could.”

“You think you could,” Alex corrected. “Now, tell me what you thought of Robert Powell’s speech at lunch. I’m telling you right now that I think he’s bluffing, but if one of the people at that table did murder Betsy Powell, he or she may believe his threat. He’s playing a dangerous game.”

Chapter 72

Nina looked in the mirror as Meg clipped the vinyl sheet around her neck.

“Now, Meg,” she cautioned, “this morning you were told to make us look like rag dolls.”

“I was told to make you resemble the way you looked the morning Betsy’s body was discovered,” Meg said matter-of-factly. “Even then you looked better than anyone else.”

“I looked passable, but for this interview I want you to make me look a little like her.” Nina held up a picture of Grant with his late wife, Kathryn.

Meg studied it carefully. “You resemble her,” she observed.

“I want to resemble her,” Nina said flatly.

She had googled everything she could find on the subject of Grant Richmond. For a major producer, he led a quiet behind-the-scenes life. He had married at twenty-six. His wife had been twenty-one.

They had been married for thirty years before she died two years ago of heart failure from a lifelong condition.

No children, and not a whiff of scandal about them.

So Grant had been a one-woman man, and he had been alone for two years. By now he was probably lonely.

He was pushing sixty.

Nina held up her camera and looked at a second picture. “Who does this look like?” she demanded.

Meg studied it carefully. “This is the same lady, Nina. Is she a relative?”

Nina nodded in satisfaction. It’s not just that I’m a good dancer, she thought. I resemble his wife.

“Look, Meg,” she said. “She’s not a relative, but I want to look like her when you do the makeup.”

“Then I can’t put that heavy liner and shadow on you.”

“That’s fine with me.”

A half hour later Meg said, “That’s it.”

Nina looked in the mirror. “I could be her sister,” she said. “Perfect.”

“My turn, Nina, it’s getting late,” Courtney said briskly.

“I know.” Nina moved into Courtney’s chair. Holding the picture, she said, “She had short hair. I don’t want to cut mine.”

“Don’t,” Courtney said. “I’ll put it up in a twist; same effect.”

Five minutes later, Jerry knocked on the door of the van. When he came inside, he was startled by the change in Nina’s appearance.

“Ready, Nina?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.” She gave herself a final look in the mirror before she got up. “These two are miracle workers,” she said. “Don’t you agree, Jerry?”

“Yes, I do,” he said honestly. “By that I mean for giving you a different look, not a better one,” he added hastily.

Nina laughed. “Good you added those last few words.”

As they left the van, Jerry compared the graduates. He liked Nina best. The others seemed to be trapped in their own shells. For women who had been close friends until they were twenty-one, they seemed to have very little to say to each other. When they were on the patio in between shoots, they all grabbed for a book or their smartphones from their purses.

Nina did, too, except when Muriel insisted on talking. She always paid attention when Muriel gushed about what a wonderful man Robert Powell was, and how Betsy had been her dearest friend.

It’s as if Muriel is always hoping that Powell can hear her, Jerry thought. She’s overplaying her role. I’ve been around enough film sets to know that.

He and Nina were walking past the pool. “I wouldn’t mind taking a swim on a day like this,” he commented. “How about you?”

“I’d like to be taking a swim in the pool at my condo. I do that every day, or evening if I work late,” Nina said.

What am I going to say? she was asking herself. What kind of questions are they going to ask me? What’s going to happen tomorrow when Robert Powell shows us the door? Would my own mother use that moment to swear that I confessed to killing Betsy to her and claim the reward?

You bet she would!

I won’t let it happen.

Jerry did not attempt to keep up the conversation. Unlike Regina, Nina did not seem nervous, but he was sure she was preparing herself for the interview.

But then she suddenly said, “There’s Creepy Crawly again.” She pointed to Bruno, who was at the far end of the grounds behind the house. “What’s he doing? Chasing bugs on the plants?”

Jerry laughed. “Mr. Powell is a perfectionist. He wants every shot of the grounds to display them in their normal pristine condition. Yesterday when we were taking pictures of the four of you in different locations back here, he looked shocked when the equipment made tracks in the grass. Then, as you saw, Creepy Crawly, as you call him, came running to the rescue.”

“Oh, God, do I remember that he was a perfectionist!” Nina exclaimed. That last night when we were all going back and forth from the den to the patio and Regina put out her last cigarette, she deliberately missed the ashtray on the table and ground it out on the tabletop. I don’t think anyone else saw her.

Should I tell that story when I’m interviewed? Again the patio and kitchen were empty.

Grant will be watching when this is on television, Nina told herself as she and Jerry walked down the hallway to the den. I certainly have the least reason to have killed Betsy. No sane person would think that I did it. The fact that my mother blames me for introducing them would never be a strong enough motive for murder.

She stood for a moment at the door of the den. Well, this is it, she thought. Alex and Laurie were waiting for her. I wonder what the others were feeling when they walked in here? Nina asked herself. Could they possibly have been as terrified as I am now?

Come on, I’m an actress. I can carry this off. She gave a brief smile and, with an air of confidence, took the seat opposite Alex.

“Nina Craig was the final graduate being celebrated on the tragic night of the Graduation Gala,” Alex began. “Nina, thank you for being with us today.”

Her mouth too dry to speak, Nina nodded.

His voice friendly, his smile warm, Alex asked, “What does it feel like to be here again in Salem Ridge, reunited with your old friends after twenty years?”

Be honest whenever you can, Nina warned herself. “It’s awkward, even strange. We all know why we’re here.”

“And why is that, Nina?”

“To try to prove that none of us murdered Betsy Powell,” she said. “And that she was killed by a stranger who came in. On the other hand, we all know that you’re hoping that one of us will blurt out a confession or give herself away. I certainly think that’s what Robert Powell is hoping. And, of course, in a way I can’t blame him.”

“How does that make you feel, Nina?”

“Angry. Defensive. But I think we all have been feeling like that for the last twenty years, so it’s nothing new. I’ve certainly learned the hard way that you can get used to anything.”

Listening and observing, Laurie found it hard to conceal her surprise. Nina Craig was not responding to Alex’s questions the way she had expected at all. Somehow, she had expected a more belligerent response from her. After all, Nina had the least reason of all of them to have suffocated Betsy, but her attitude now was one of regret, even when she confessed to anger. And she looks different, too, Laurie thought. Softer. What’s the reason she had her hair styled in an upsweep? With all the research we’ve done on her, I’ve never seen one picture without the flowing locks. She’s playing a game, but what is it?

Nina was taking Alex through her childhood.

“Alex, as you obviously know, my mother, Muriel Craig, is an actress. I was kind of born in a trunk. We moved all over in those days.”

“What about school?”

“Somehow, between the East and West Coasts, I graduated from grammar school.”

“What about your father? I know your parents were divorced when you were very young.”

He couldn’t stand her, either, Nina thought. But he got away fast. “They married young and divorced when I was three.”

“Did you see much of him after that?”

“No, but he did contribute to my college education.” A little, she thought, a very little—what Mother could squeeze out of him in court.

“Actually, you saw very little of him from the time of the divorce, isn’t that true, Nina?”

“He tried his hand at acting, didn’t make it, then moved to Chicago, remarried, and had four more children. There wasn’t much room in that for me.”

Where is he going with this? Nina asked herself frantically.

“Then you never had a father in your growing-up years?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“Why did you and your mother move to Salem Ridge, Nina?”

“My mother was dating Robert Powell.”

“Wasn’t she also offered the leading role in a pilot that became a series and ran for six years, and has been on reruns ever since?”

“Yes, that’s true. But Powell told her that he didn’t want to be married to anyone who would be working all the time.”

“Even when her relationship with Powell ended, the two of you stayed in Salem Ridge. That seems curious to me.”

“I don’t know why. She had rented a condo. There was a very nice old couple next door, the Johnsons. When she broke up with Robert Powell, my mother was offered a flurry of jobs. I had started high school. She paid the Johnsons to look after me when she was working.”

Don’t dwell on how lonesome it was after the Johnsons poked their heads in to say good night and I was left by myself for the night, Nina thought. And then when Mother got home from a job, she’d start ranting about how hard she was working, and how it was all my fault, over and over again. I’d miss her when she was away, then when she came home I’d wish she was away on a job anywhere else in the world.

“Your mother kept the condo until you went to college, didn’t she?”

“Yes. By then all the jobs were on the West Coast.

She had bought a condo out there.”

“So you spent your semester breaks and vacations with her?”

“Whenever possible. But I was getting summer-stock jobs and grabbed them whenever they were offered.”

“Nina, let’s talk about the Gala.”

Laurie listened as, in different ways, Alex asked the same questions he had asked the other girls. Her answers were virtually the same as those of the other graduates. She, too, insisted that an intruder had to have been the culprit.

“Let’s go back,” Alex suggested. “Were you surprised when Claire called and told you that her mother and Robert Powell wanted to have a Graduation Gala for the four of you?”

“Yes, but it was a good chance to see the girls again.”

“Your mother was invited to attend as well?”

“Yes, but she didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“She couldn’t take the time off. She had an audition coming up.”

“Nina, wasn’t it because Betsy scrawled on the invitation that she and Robert couldn’t wait to see her, and how blessed she was that you had called her over to the table that wonderful day she and Robert met?”

“How do you know that? Who told you that?”

“Actually, your mother did,” Alex said amiably. “Shortly before lunch today.”

She’s building up to saying that I confessed to her that I murdered Betsy, Nina thought. No matter whether anyone believes her or not, that will be the end of any chance I have with Grant.

What was Alex Buckley asking her? How would she describe her feelings about Betsy Powell?

Why not tell the truth? Why not?

“I loathed her,” she said. “Especially after I read that note. She was mean. Make that cruel. There wasn’t a decent bone in her body, and when I looked down on her dead face, I had to force myself not to spit on it.”

Chapter 73

George Curtis arrived at the Powell mansion at three-thirty. He had been asked to wear the same kind of evening attire he had worn at the Gala. He had a virtual replica of it in his closet. Because it was so warm, he carried his white dinner jacket, shirt, and bow tie on a plastic-covered hanger.

Before going to the club to play bridge with her friends, Isabelle had given him a cautionary note. “Just remember, you think you kept your little romance pretty quiet, but if I was suspicious, don’t you think anyone else was? Maybe even Rob Powell? Just be careful and don’t fall into a trap. You had the strongest motive of anyone to have Betsy dead.” Then, with a kiss and a wave of her hand, she stepped into her convertible.

“Isabelle, I swear to you—” he had begun.

“I know you do,” she said. “But remember, you don’t have to convince me, and I don’t care if you did it anyway. Just don’t let yourself get caught.”

The temperature had dropped a little, but it was still very hot. George parked his car in the front driveway, picked up the clothes hanger, and walked around to the back of the house. A flurry of activity greeted him. The production crew had their cameras aimed at designated spots on the grounds. He guessed that was where the graduates would be standing while he talked in the foreground with Alex Buckley. He had been told that the background would be a rolling shot of scenes from the Gala.

Laurie Moran approached as soon as she spotted him. “Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, Mr. Curtis. We’ll try not to keep you too long. Why don’t you wait inside with the others? It’s too hot out here.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he agreed. He crossed the patio with reluctant steps and went into the house. The four graduates were in the main dining room, dressed in the gowns that he recognized were replicas of the ones they had worn that night. Even with the skillfully applied makeup they were wearing, the tension in their faces was unmistakable.

He did not have long to wait. Laurie’s assistant Grace came in to take the graduates outside. When she came back for him, he saw that they were all in place, standing like statues against what he knew would be the background of films of the Gala. He wondered what they were thinking. He wondered if every one of them didn’t feel as he had that night. I was terrified that Betsy had the power to ruin my marriage just as the children Isabelle and I had prayed for were becoming a reality, he thought. Alison had to have been bitter. She had lost out on her scholarship because of the donation Rob had made to her college. Occasionally I would pick up something in the grocery store where her father worked, and he would always brag about how hard Alison was studying . . .

There’s no one in town who didn’t hear Muriel tell the story of how Betsy stole Rob from her, and the fact that it was all because of Nina. And from what I hear, Claire had desperately wanted to board at Vassar, but neither Betsy nor Rob would hear of it. “A waste of money when she has such a beautiful home,” as Betsy put it. And Regina’s father committed suicide because of his investment in Rob’s hedge fund.

Who among those girls, amid all the extravagant display, could have avoided feeling bitterness that night? And from the next day on, for twenty years, they had lived under a cloud of suspicion.

George Curtis felt a deep sense of shame. I did come back here the night of the Gala, he remembered. It was about 4 A.M. I stood here on this spot. I knew where Betsy’s bedroom was. I was crazed with fear that Isabelle would divorce me if Betsy ever told her about us. But then I could see the reflection of someone moving in Betsy’s room. There was a light in the hallway, and when the door opened I was almost sure I could tell who it was.

I still think I know who it was. I know who it was.

When Betsy’s body was discovered I wanted to tell, but how could I explain why I was here at that time? I couldn’t. But if I had admitted to what I saw, everyone else who has been under suspicion wouldn’t have been going through this hell for twenty years. He felt the guilt wash over him.

Alex Buckley was walking to him. “Ready to go down memory lane, Mr. Curtis?” he asked cheerfully.

Chapter 74

“How do you think that went?” Laurie asked with concern as she stepped into Alex’s car.

Alex was starting the engine and putting up the top of his convertible. “I think we could use some air-conditioning. To answer your question, I think it went great.”

“I think it did, too. But it’s twenty of seven. I’m so afraid that if we hit traffic we won’t be at the hospital when Timmy calls, and Dad will miss talking to him.”

“I checked the traffic report a few minutes ago on my iPhone. It’s okay. I promise I’ll get you to the hospital by seven-thirty.”

“One more left,” Laurie sighed as Alex drove out of the grounds of the Powell estate. “And now the usual question. What’s your take on George Curtis?”

“He’s a class act,” Alex said promptly. “He’s the kind of guy people look up to. Well, why not? He’s been on the cover of Forbes magazine.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he is downright handsome,” Laurie said. “Think about it. Curtis is a billionaire, charming, good-looking. Compare him with Robert Powell, at least as far as money goes.”

“There is no comparison, Laurie. Powell may be worth half a billion, but Curtis is worth billions.”

“Now, think of that frame in the Gala films where George Curtis and Betsy look pretty serious, almost as though they’re arguing.”

“Are you using that in the background, Laurie?”

“No. That wouldn’t be fair. But I do know this: the George Curtises of this world don’t get involved with this kind of program unless they have something to hide. Think about that.”

“Laurie, you continue to amaze me. I did think about it. And once again, I agree with you,” Alex told her.

Laurie pulled out her phone. “I’ll just alert Dad that we’re on our way.”

Leo answered on the first ring. “I’m still alive,” he said. “I’m now watching All in the Family. Another golden oldie. Where are you?”

“On our way down. Traffic is good so far.”

“Didn’t you say Alex Buckley was driving you here, then back to the Powell place?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t let him cool his heels in the car. Bring him up. I’d like to meet him.”

Laurie looked at Alex. “Would you be interested in meeting my dad?”

“Of course I would.”

“Alex accepts with delight, Dad. See you.”

Chapter 75

Bruno was putting on his police uniform when he listened to the call. Countdown! he said to himself. After all these years, I get my revenge. There shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth, he thought. Oh, Leo, how sad you are going to be. Your daughter. Your grandson. And all the while they’ve been searching through hospital records to see if the doctor had made a mistake on a patient. You were the one who made the mistake, Leo. When you were a tough young cop. Too tough. You could have given me a break when you arrested me but you wouldn’t. You wrecked my life. You cost me thirty years in prison and then another five for good measure.

Bruno stood in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door of his shabby apartment. He had been renting it month to month because, as he had explained to the landlord, he wanted to be sure that his job with Perfect Estates worked out. The landlord, happy to avoid necessary repairs for the present, was delighted with his temporary tenant.

He wouldn’t care that I left suddenly, especially since I paid him to the end of the month, and I’m not going to claim the month’s security.

As if anyone could damage this dump, Bruno thought.

Chapter 76

As Laurie and Alex were driving out, the production crew was closing down for the day.

The graduates had changed from their gowns, and all of them as one turned down the offer to keep them. “Laurie really wants you to have them,” Jerry explained. “And I can tell you, they were very expensive.”

Nina spoke for all of them. “That’s just what we need, another reminder of that night.”

Their cars were waiting to drive them to their hotels.

When Rod and Alison arrived at their room, they happily closed the door behind them. Then Rod reached for her. “Alie, it’s all right.”

“It’s not, Rod. It’s not all right. You know what’s on that tape. You know what Josh can do with that.” She turned from him and angrily reached into the closet, grabbing clothes from their hangers and throwing them on the bed.

Rod sank onto the couch and unconsciously began to massage his aching knees. “We are going to have a scotch now,” he said emphatically. “Then we are going to order a fabulous dinner, either here or out— your choice. We’ll order the most expensive items on the menu, courtesy of Robert Powell.”

“I couldn’t eat a thing!” Alison protested.

“Order it anyhow.”

“Rod, you make me laugh when I have no reason to.”

“Alison, that’s what I’m here for,” Rod said cheerfully. He was not about to tell her that he absolutely shared her concern about Josh’s tapes—not because of the money, but because of what it would do to Alie if, once again because of Betsy Powell, her chance to go to medical school without taking on a heavy financial burden, was snatched from her.

Chapter 77

Regina carefully packed the few new clothes she had brought in preparation for the program. I may be trading these for an orange jumpsuit, she thought bitterly. Score one hundred for Robert Powell. He ruined my life when I was fifteen years old, and now he has his big chance to ruin the rest of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he put Josh up to going through my bag.

But in the note Dad accuses him and Betsy of deliberately setting him up for a scam. Why would Robert want that to come out? Josh must be doing this on his own. I’ve got to pay him off, she thought. How ironic—I have publicly made myself more likely to be accused of being Betsy’s murderer than if I’d stayed home selling real estate.

Efficiently, she packed her overnight bag and a large suitcase. Now where? she asked herself. I don’t feel like calling for room service. I’ve got a car downstairs, courtesy of Mr. Powell. Should I?

Yes, she decided, why not? She would have him drive her past her old house, then take her to the restaurant where she and her parents used to go regularly for dinner.

Auld lang syne, she thought.

Chapter 78

One more night in the house she hated! Why did I do this to myself?

It was a question Claire had been asking herself since the plane landed. Had it been stupid to make herself up to resemble her mother that first morning? Had she done it to stick it to “Daddy Rob”? Maybe. He’d had the nerve to open the door of her bedroom right after her interview this morning to ask her that very question. Why didn’t I ever press charges against him in all these years? she asked herself. Why don’t I do it now?

She knew the answer. Because it gave me a perfect reason to kill my mother, and because, with his battery of lawyers, Daddy Rob would have held me up as a demented liar, and my mother would have loved backing him up. That’s why I became a counselor, she thought. I wanted to help other girls in my situation. But not many of them told me that their mothers accepted the fact that their stepfather came sneaking into their room at night. I know that until I go into therapy myself, I’ll never move forward with my life, Claire conceded. He’s held me hostage all these years.

There was one way she could get to him. Tonight and tomorrow morning she would again wear makeup and style her hair to accentuate her remark- able resemblance to his dear Betsy. As if that makes a bit of difference in the grand scheme of things, Claire thought bitterly as she picked up the phone to order room service. I wonder if Nina will faint again when she sees me.

And why was she, of all people, the one to faint in the first place?

Chapter 79

Nina packed, then had room service send up dinner. As she listlessly took a bite of cordon bleu, her phone rang. To her astonishment, it was Grant.

“Couldn’t help wondering how the interview went,” he said. “Alex Buckley is notorious for shaking up witnesses.”

“Well, he did an Oscar-worthy performance on me,” Nina said. “Wait until you see it.”

“Hey, you sound pretty down.”

“I guess I am,” Nina admitted.

“Try not to be, but I understand. I was a witness in a fraud case twenty years ago. It wasn’t pleasant.”

Pleasant! That’s a good word, Nina thought as she listened to Grant tell her he was looking forward to seeing her and wished her a good flight.

Nina took a large swallow of vodka from the tumbler beside her dinner plate. Maybe if I promise my mother to give her all the money left after paying Josh, she’ll be satisfied, she thought. Especially if she knows that an A-list producer like Grant is dating me!

Chapter 80

In Mount Sinai Hospital, Leo was looking at his watch with growing impatience. It was twenty to eight, and Laurie still wasn’t there. But just as he was sure she would have to take Timmy’s call in the car, Laurie appeared in the doorway. The tall, impressive-looking guy behind her was instantly recognizable as the famous Alex Buckley.

Laurie rushed to hug him. “Dad, I’m so sorry. They should take the East River Drive and bury it at sea. There was a fender bender at 125th Street. You would have thought it was a terror attack for the traffic jam it caused.”

“At ease,” Leo said, “or you’ll be the next one in here with heart fibrillations.” He looked up at Alex. “Wouldn’t you agree with that, counselor?”

“I certainly agree that your daughter is under a lot of stress,” Alex said carefully as he pulled up a chair at Leo Farley’s bedside. “But she’s doing a great job with this program, I can promise you that.”

“Now, before you ask me again, Laurie, yes, I feel fine, and yes, I get out tomorrow morning,” Leo Farley declared. “What time do you wrap up this witch hunt you’re on?”

“Hey, Dad, that’s not exactly what I would call having respect for my work,” Laurie protested.

“I have every respect for your work,” Leo said. “But if I had gotten away with murder for twenty years and now I was under a spotlight where every word I said in front of a national viewing audience could be picked over by all the amateur sleuths in the country, I might be driven to do whatever it took to cover my tracks.”

Alex saw that both Leo and Laurie kept glancing at their watches. It was five to eight.

“Timmy’s late calling. I’d better call the office at the camp again and check to see if anything is wrong,” Leo said.

“Dad, you’ve been calling the office at the camp?” Laurie asked.

“You bet I have. That way I can keep them on their toes and make sure that there’s no lapse in security there. What do you think, Alex?”

“In your situation, if I were the parent or grandparent, I would do exactly the same thing,” Alex agreed.

The ringing of Laurie’s phone brought a collective sigh of relief. Before it rang again, she and Leo were saying, “Hi, Timmy.”

“Hi, Mom,” a happy young voice answered. “I was worried that you wouldn’t get home in time to have Grandpa with you when I called.”

“Well, we’re both here,” Laurie said.

Alex listened as Timmy described his activities of the day. He was on the “A” swim team. He liked the three other guys in his tent. Camp was fun. It was only at the end of the conversation that his tone became wistful. “I miss you guys. Are you really, really coming up on visiting day?”

“We are really, really coming up on visiting day,” Laurie promised.

“You bet we are,” Leo said emphatically. “Have I ever broken a promise to you, big guy?”

“No, Grandpa.”

“Do you think I’m going to start now?” Leo demanded with mock severity in his voice.

The wistful note was gone.

“No, Grandpa,” Timmy said happily.

When they said their final good-bye, Laurie looked at Alex. “That’s my little guy,” she said proudly.

“He sounds like a great kid,” Alex said honestly.

“And now I want you two to go get something to eat and start back to Robert Powell’s place,” Leo said firmly. “You’ll be late enough as it is. Laurie, I hope you’re going to take a couple of days off after you wrap up this program.”

“That’s the last thing I’ll be doing, Dad. In fact, that’s almost funny. Postproduction can be the toughest part of it. But I agree with you—emotionally, this one has been tough. I have to tell you, I hope I’m never under suspicion of having committed a murder.”

Alex knew which way Laurie and her father’s thoughts were turning. “I’ll defend you, ten percent discount,” he promised. They both laughed, and when Alex said good-bye to Leo he heard himself saying, “I defended some people in cases about which I’d love to have your opinion. Would you want to have dinner sometime?”

“Sure I would,” Leo agreed.

“Can I come?” Laurie laughed.

“There’s no question about that,” Alex said, his tone now serious.

With a final good-bye to Leo, they went downstairs and left the hospital.

“I love Manhattan,” Laurie sighed. “It’s home sweet home.”

“So do I,” Alex agreed. “Look, we don’t have to be back to that mausoleum until eleven, and it’s only eight thirty now. Why don’t we have a relaxed dinner?”

“We were talking about grabbing a hamburger.”

“Forget it. Marea on Central Park South is one of the best restaurants in New York. It’s always full, but by this time the theatre crowd has gone. Okay with you?”

“Perfect,” Laurie said. Relaxed now that Leo looked good and Timmy sounded happy, she knew she would enjoy the evening dining with Alex.

AT THAT VERY MOMENT, BRUNO WAS CROSSING the Tappan Zee Bridge on the way to Timmy’s camp.