“She did get parole!” Fran exclaimed. “I’m so glad.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember the case. You were living in California six years ago. Do you know much about it?”

“Everything, actually. Don’t forget, I went to Cranden Academy in Greenwich, with Molly. I had the local papers sent to me throughout the trial.”

“You went to school with her? That’s great. I want to schedule a full background story on her for the series as soon as possible.”

“Sure. But Gus, don’t think I have an inside track with Molly,” Fran warned. “I haven’t laid eyes on her since the summer we graduated, and that was fourteen years ago. At the same time I began U. Cal, my mother moved to Santa Barbara, and I lost touch with just about everybody in Greenwich.”

There’d actually been many reasons for both her and her mother relocating to California, leaving Connecticut as far behind as memory would allow. On the day of Fran’s graduation from the academy, her father had taken her and her mother out for a festive dinner of celebration. At the end of the meal he had toasted Fran’s future at his alma mater, kissed both of them, and then, saying that he’d left his wallet in the car, he had gone out to the parking lot and shot himself. In the next few days the reason for his suicide became apparent. An investigation quickly determined that he’d embezzled $400,000 from the Greenwich Library Building Fund drive he’d volunteered to chair.

Gus Brandt knew that story already, of course. He’d brought it up when he came to Los Angeles to offer her the job at NAF-TV. “Look, that’s in the past. You don’t need to hide away out here in California, and besides, coming with us is the right career move for you,” he’d said. “Everyone who makes it in this business has to move around. Our six o’clock news hour is beating the local network stations, and the True Crime program is in the top ten in the ratings. Besides, admit it: you’ve missed New York.”