Thirty-One
“Tom, Tom, are you there? Where are you?” I heard Helen say.
“Don’t say anything,” Glenda said firmly. “Just hang up and give me the phone.”
I did as she said. She pointed to the couch with the gun. “Sit,” she said. I took a place on the couch. She sat in a chair opposite me, still pointing the gun at me.
“Yes,” Glenda said. “It’s the same gun. My father’s. The only thing he left me when he died.”
“He’s your son, isn’t he?"
“Oh, Detective Parr told you that, did she? Yes, he’s my boy. I’ll tell you everything. But first.” She made the sign of the cross. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” she began.
“No,” I said.
“It has been six months since my last confession.” She smiled.
I knew what she was doing. Making sure I couldn’t say anything. Anything she said was under t
