“I was worried,” Webb says. “I saw it on television this morning…”
“I’m all right,” she says.
“Well, good,” he says.
“Were you trying to kill him?” another reporter yells.
“I still want a house down here, you know.”
“I’ll find one for you.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” he says.
As he starts up the walk to where he’s parked his rented Mercury at the curb, the woman reporter shouts, “What are your plans now, Mrs. G?”
Alice merely smiles, and closes the door, and goes to where Charlie is brewing a pot of coffee in the kitchen.