The Melody Lingers On by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online

‘It would be impossible to describe a better dad,” he said. “Busy as he was, my mother and I were his first priority. He never missed
a school event that I was involved in. When I joined the Boy Scouts I got it in my head that I wanted to go camping. He told me he’d go with me. He bought all the gear, learned how to pitch a
tent, and found a camping ground in the Adirondacks. We made a fire and cooked over it. Everything we cooked got burned. When we went to bed, we were both cold. We couldn’t get to sleep.
Finally at about eleven o’clock he said, ‘Eric, do you think as I do that this is a ridiculous situation?’ When I fervently agreed, he said, ‘Then let’s bag it.
We’ll just leave all this paraphernalia here. I’ll call the office of this place and tell them it’s theirs. They can raffle it off or give it away.’ ”
    “So I guess you never made it to Eagle Scout,” Lane said.
    “Actually I did. I didn’t want to be a quitter.”
    He took a sip of coffee. “Lane, although I lost a lot of clients because of my father, I’m still a good trader, and I’m rebuilding. But I gave every nickel I had saved or
invested to the government to help pay back the people who lost their money.”
    “Do people know that?”
    “No. I requested that it be kept quiet. I knew what the response would be, that I was just trying to look good.”
    “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t,” Lane suggested.
    “I would say so.”
    This time they caught a cab immediately after leaving the restaurant. At the apartment building Lane started to say good night but Eric said, “I’ll see you to your door.”
    When they got off the elevator, he asked, “I promise you that I won’t delay, but is it possible to see if Katie left me those two cookies?”
    “I know she did. Come on in.”
    The cookies were on a paper plate on the coffee table. Katie had drawn a smiley face on the plate.
    Eric reached down, picked up one of them, and took a bite out of it. “Delicious,” he pronounced. “Thank Katie for me. Tell her I love it with lots of chocolate chips, just the
way she made them.” He picked up the plate and said, “I’ll eat this one on my way down in the elevator. Lane, I’ve enjoyed this evening very much. And now, as promised,
I’m out of here.”
    Less than a minute later Lane heard the whine of the elevator going down. Then Wilma Potters came down the hall. After Katie was in bed Wilma had made it a habit to sit on the comfortable chair
in the small den at the end of the hall and watch television.
    “Katie went to bed promptly at eight thirty,” she volunteered. “Did you have a nice time?”
    Lane hesitated, then answered, “I had a very nice time, Mrs. Potters. I really did.”

12

    M arge O’Brian sat nervously in the anteroom waiting to be called into Rudy Schell’s office. What did I do wrong? she asked herself. Why
would the FBI want to talk to me? It had been only yesterday that she had gone to New Jersey following the moving van that had brought the contents that had been selected from the Bennett mansion
for Anne Bennett’s new home in Montclair, New Jersey.
    With the help of Lane Harmon and two workmen Lane brought with her, she had unpacked boxes of china and books and clothing so that when Mrs. Bennett arrived the next day the town house would not
be cluttered. Lane had told her that the spread and drapes and vanity skirt would be in next week and she would be there to see that everything was exactly right.
    She’s such a nice person, Marge thought, and the town house is so pretty. The furniture fit in like it was made for those rooms. And it’s so cozy. When Mr. Bennett was around he
filled the mansion with his presence. But poor Mrs. Bennett rattling around there alone was kind of pathetic.
    Why did the FBI call her again last night? She already talked to them two years ago. What did they mean when they said they just wanted to ask her a few questions? They didn’t