Life Penalty Read Free Page A

the sunshine ordered. The girls needed some new spring clothes, and for that matter, so did she. Gail had reached Nancy just as she was about to leave the house for a reading with her psychic and they arranged to meet for lunch at Nero’s.
    Lunch had been entertaining and fun. Gail didn’t have to contribute much. She just had to sit there and smile as Nancy did the talking. Nothing was required of her except to listen and look attentive. If Nancy said something about which she disagreed, she kept this to herself. Nancy was not interested in her opinions; she was interested only in her own. Gail thought as she listened to Nancy talk about her visit to the psychic that Nancy Carter was probably the most self-centered woman she had ever met. No matter what anyone said, no matter what was happening in the world, she would find some way to relate it to herself. If the talk turned to Indira Gandhi and the precarious political position she found herself in, Nancy Carter would say, “Oh, I know just how she feels. The same thing happened to me when I was running for president of my club.” It was her greatest failing as a human being and her greatest charm. Gail’s friend Laura professed shock at this attitude, rolling her eyes skyward at the slightest provocation whenever the three women were together, but Gail had long ago learned to accept the fact that if you wanted to talk to Nancy Carter, you talked
about
Nancy Carter.
    Gail listened as Nancy explained that her psychic had told her she was suffering from lower back pain (not bothering to interrupt to tell her that most people over the age of forty suffered from some sort of lower back pain), knowing that for all the faults she could find to list about her friends, they could undoubtedly list an equal number where she was concerned. In the end, as with a marriage, a successful friendship depended upon accepting people for what they were. The only alternative was learning to live alone. Gail had never liked living alone. She liked having friends. She liked being part of a family.
    Nancy had dragged her to shop at the Short Hills Mall. They went from store to store, ostensibly looking at clothes for Gail’s daughters, but Gail quickly noted that Nancy grew restless after only minutes in the girls’ or teen departments, and relaxed only when she found something that she herself could try on. The afternoon had proceeded at a faster pace than Gail had been prepared for, and when she looked down at her watch and saw that it was after three and that she could never be home in time for her daughters’ return, she had called the school and left a message for Jennifer to be sure to go right home so that someone would be there for Cindy. It was only after Nancy had rushed off to make a three-thirty hair appointment that Gail was able to accomplish any real shopping for herself and her children. Since Gail had not taken her car, and since the day was such a lovely one, she found herself walking a good part of the way home, turning the corner onto her street at just after four-fifteen. Normally, she would have been home by three-thirty. Normally, she would have been there for her children when they came home from school. Normally, by this hour, she would be halfway through her piano lesson, and thinking ahead to what the family would be doing over the weekend. But she had changed her routine.
    “What’s going on here?” she cried, pushing against the cordon of police officers who blocked her front door.
    “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can’t go in there,” one officer said.
    “This is my house,” she shouted. “I live here.”
    “Mom!” she heard Jennifer yelling from inside. The front door flew open and Jennifer threw herself into her mother’s arms, sobbing hysterically.
    Gail felt her entire body go ice-cold, then numb.
    Where was Cindy?
    “Where’s Cindy?” she asked in a voice she didn’t recognize.
    “Mrs. Walton,” a voice said from somewhere beside her,