Page 46 of Then Came You

Didn’t we all?

“And I went into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of milk. I think it was around four in the morning. Anyway, I happened to look out the window, and I saw a man in your driveway. I almost called the police, but then I saw him get into a truck and drive away. I was worried about you after what happened the other night, so I just wanted to check on you.”

Gillian shifted uncomfortably while trying to decide the best way to handle this. “The man you saw is a police officer.”

Stella brought her hand to her chest and leaned forward, her pendulous breasts resting on the table. “Really? Why was he here? Did someone try to break in again?”

“No, but I thought I heard noises, and it scared me.”

“Of course. I’d be petrified if I thought someone was trying to get in. That’s why I sleep with a shotgun every night. Ever since my Tom died, I don’t go to bed without it.”

Gillian flinched, not about the gun, but about Stella’s husband. She’d never known him, but she understood how it felt to lose the man you loved. “When did your husband die?” she asked, partly out of politeness and partly to distract Stella from asking more questions.

“It’s been about three years now. Your Owen was the first one on the scene.”

Gillian’s hands tightened around her coffee mug. “Owen?”

Stella nodded. “Tom had a heart attack right in our kitchen. It was early on a Saturday morning, and I thought he was making breakfast. But when I went into the kitchen, he was lying on the floor.”

Gillian blanched. The death of a loved one was never easy, but to see it happen right before your eyes…

“He was still breathing, and the first person I thought to call was Owen. Tom and I always said we liked living next door to a cop because you never knew when you might need one. Well, I needed one that day.”

Gillian nodded, imagining the panic Stella must have felt.

“I still have an old-fashioned telephone, none of those fancy cell phones, and I had Owen on speed dial. I called him, and he came over right away. There was nothing he could do to save Tom, but he took charge and called an ambulance. I don’t know what I’d have done if he hadn’t been home that morning.”

Stella paused and took a long drink of coffee. Gillian picked up her own mug and realized her hands were trembling. Stella’s story was heartbreaking, an emotion Gillian was intimately familiar with.

She could easily envision Owen rushing next door and doing what he could to help his neighbor. In that regard, he and Sam were alike, never hesitating to jump in and rescue someone. Owen. Sam. Oh God.

“Are you okay, dear?” Stella reached over and patted her hand.

Gillian nodded even though she was lying. Stella’s story had shaken her up and caused her good mood from earlier to vanish.

“Well, I’m glad you have another police officer to look after you now. Was he the same man I saw you with at the cider mill, by chance?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. A friend of Owen’s, then?”

Gillian quickly shook her head. “No. I met him at my store. He stops in for coffee every so often, and we’ve become friends.” She’d purposely labeled Sam a friend, hoping to throw Stella off the scent even though it was probably too late for that.

Gillian brought the mug to her lips again and realized her coffee had gone cold. Stella had been there a lot longer than a minute, and Gillian felt drained. She made a big show of looking at the clock on the microwave.

“I’m sorry, Stella, but I need to get ready for work.” She scraped her chair back from the table. “Thanks for stopping by, though.”

Stella drained the contents of her coffee mug and slowly stood up. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Gillian accompanied her to the door, and when she noticed how slowly Stella moved, she felt sorry for her. Even though her neighbor could be a pain, she meant well, and Gillian vowed to be friendlier toward her. After all, that’s what Owen would have done.

“By the way, I’m going to have a home security system installed. You might want to consider it too.”

Stella flapped her hand as she stepped onto the porch. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I have my shotgun ready. I just hope I never have to use it.”

Gillian stood on the porch and watched Stella amble across the yard until she reached her own property. Then she went back inside and locked the door behind her. Instead of immediately getting ready for work, she slumped down on the couch and sighed.

Rubbing her hand over the couch cushion, she thought about lying there with Sam just a few hours before. What would Owen think if he knew? Would he be glad that she’d found someone to take his place?