Stella

One hour earlier …

Officer Walling stayed by my side as we walked to the fourth-floor recovery room. She was a calm, steadying presence. Though she barely reached five feet, Lori was strong and solid with jet black hair tied into a topknot. Her partner, Officer Smalls, cut a tall, imposing figure. Even so, he managed to fade into the background while Lori spoke to one of the floor nurses and figured out where we’d find Old Phil. Lori nodded and gave me a reassuring smile as she gestured down the hallway. She shot a signal to Smalls and he went ahead of us.

“Just a precaution,” she said. “Then Pete and I will stay out of your way.”

“No. It’s okay. Thank you. I’m sure there're a thousand other things you two would rather being doing today. Babysitting me can’t be at the top of your list.”

She smiled back. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

She didn’t say the other thing and until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much that mattered. I knew what Mitch and probably Chief Lewandowski had told her. I was Stella Terry. Brian Macavoy’s girl. They take care of their own. A pit formed in my stomach the way it always did when I thought about him. More so now than ever. I felt as if Smalls and Walling could see some scarlet letter painted on my chest. It was foolish really, I knew that. Brian was long gone. Still, it felt disingenuous somehow to still catch favors for being his girlfriend, just like it did the day of his funeral.

Smalls came back down the hallway and nodded toward Lori. She put a gentle hand at the center of my back. “You’re good to go, Miss Terry. We’ll be out of your hair but right outside.”

“Stella,” I said. “Please. If we’re going to spend the day together, let’s settle that at least.”

She smiled as Pete took a position on one side of the door to Room 424. Lori took the other. There was nothing left for me to do but walk right in. I felt hollow inside. Guilt and fear burned through me. I’d spent so much time worrying about how quickly I could pay my respects to the Phils, it never occurred to me that they might not want me here. I’d brought this hell down on them. No, I hadn’t asked for it either and it wasn’t my fault. But if it weren’t for their connection to me, Old Phil would be safely pruning his peony bush right about now.

I stood in the doorway. The few steps between the hall and Old Phil’s hospital bed seemed to distort and grow longer as I looked in. Young Phil sat in a chair at the foot of his father’s bed. He bowed his head, praying with his fists digging into his forehead, his thinning gray hair disheveled. Old Phil was pale, his color nearly matching the white bedsheets. And he had tubes and wires sticking out of him everywhere. His ventilator let out a rhythmic wheeze and gasp as his chest rose and fell.

I steeled myself for whatever might come, then walked into the room. Young Phil straightened when he heard me approach, but he didn’t turn. It occurred to me I had no idea what to say. I’m sorry? How is he? Nothing seemed adequate. Everything seemed a cliché.

“I came as soon as I could,” spilled out of my mouth instead. Another cliché, but true, at least. Still, I regretted it instantly. I’d just made it about me. Phil turned. His eyes lit up and filled with tears when he saw me, shredding my heart. He reached up and clasped my hand.

“Thank God,” he said, his voice a choked whisper. “We were so worried about you.”

“What?” I pulled a small wheeled stool away from the wall and sat down next to Phil. I put a hand on Old Phil’s bed, then dared to touch the one bare patch of skin on his arm, not covered in medical tape or tubes. He seemed cold. His eyelids twitched when I touched him, but he didn’t wake up.

“That’s the last thing Dad said before he went out of it,” Young Phil continued. “He made me swear I’d make sure you were okay.”

“Phil. God. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so, so sorry. And grateful too. You saved my life. If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I mean.”

Phil smiled and put a hand on my knee. I didn’t want to talk about me anymore. I wanted to wave a magic wand and turn back the clock on the last twenty-four hours. Anything to bring the color back into Old Phil’s cheeks and take away the pain etched on his son’s face.

“He’s tough,” Phil said. “Stubborn. But I don’t know, Stella. This might be it for him.”

“What are the doctors telling you?”

Phil shrugged. “They won’t know anything for sure until he wakes up. The blessing is he had the stroke while he was here. They were able to detect it and give him medication pretty quickly. But he’s almost ninety years old and his heart wasn’t in the best shape to begin with. They told me to prepare for the fact that he might never be strong enough to come home again.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Just stay safe. And keep praying. And don’t blame yourself for this. That, most of all. Dad loves you. He wouldn’t want it and neither do I.”

“I’ll try. In the meantime, though, is there someone I can call for you? Have you been here by yourself all this time?”

Phil shook his head. “There’s just my sister. She’s on her way from Phoenix already with my nephew and her husband. I don’t know how long they can stay but they’re planning to take over Dad’s house for the duration. Just so you know.”

“Of course.”

“And don’t go back there,” Phil said; his eyes turned to stone as he looked at me. “Not for a few days at least. Let your man figure out how to keep you safe. Whoever the hell that was, they meant it, Stella. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “It’s all just a big mistake. They think I’m somebody else. They think it has to do with the identity theft.”

“That’s what the police told me. Lordy, Stella. To be dealing with that all on your own.”

I smiled and patted Phil's arm. “There was nothing you could have done anyway except for worry. And I swear, I had no idea this could happen. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t want me to blame myself. But I just am.”

Phil nodded. His eyes creased with a tender smile as he brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it. “Well, at least they’ve gotta know by now they didn’t get the job done. In fact, you coming here probably isn’t the best idea. I’m damn glad you did, don’t get me wrong, but if and when they circle back, you need to be harder to find.”

Smiling, I put a hand on Phil’s back and rubbed it. “I brought company.” Just then, Officer Smalls poked his head in and gave me a quick salute. I nodded, letting him know things were okay. Phil let out a whistle.

“You stick close to them and stick close to your man. He’ll keep you safe.”

I swallowed past a lump in my throat. My man. “You mean Mitch? Detective Gates? He’s just a friend.”

Phil smiled and shook his head. “Oh no, Stella. That man’s yours. I know the look.”

I blushed and couldn’t help but laugh. “Even now? You’re just as incorrigible as your father. You’re worse than a couple of nosey old ladies.”

Color came back into Phil’s cheeks when he smiled. “Say whatever helps you sleep at night, honey. He charged across a police barricade, gun drawn, with the fury of an avalanche. That man’s in love with you. And by the look on your face right now, I’d say it’s not misplaced.”

His words took the air right out of me and replaced it with a warm glow I didn’t expect. Flashes of last night filled my thoughts. His touch. How my breath went out when he pulled me toward him on the edge of the countertop. Strong. Commanding. Dominant. I knew I was blushing. And I knew Phil could see it. He chuckled to himself and my cheeks flamed hot.

“Oh, shut up,” I whispered.

“Is he a good man?”

My heart clenched. I gripped the side of the bed to steady myself. It wasn’t so much his question, but the resounding answer that slammed into my heart the instant he asked it.

“Yes,” I said, though I could barely draw breath. “He is, Phil. Though he’d probably argue the point. But I meant what I said. He’s just a friend. A very good friend.”

“Whatever you say, honey. Just promise you’ll stay close to him until they find the bastard that tried to get you last night. Maybe he’s said it to you, maybe he hasn’t. But like I said, I know that look and I saw how he was over at the house. He’s willing to protect you with his life if he has to.”

Then we sat together, side by side, watching the gentle, rhythmic fall of Old Phil’s chest. He scowled in his sleep and coughed a little, fighting the tubes. Then he settled back into a deep slumber. Minutes ticked by and I took comfort in the silence. These men were heroes, both of them, though they’d never call themselves that. Just like Mitch. All three of them would just tell me they were doing their jobs. But I knew better. And in my heart I knew how lucky I was to have all of them in my life. Phil said Mitch was in love with me. My heart jumped at the thought of it. I loved him too. I could admit it to myself if not to him. It was too soon. Too raw. If I blinked too hard, it felt like last night could just slip away as though it never happened. We could explain it away as the heat of the moment. It was that, but it was something else too. And now, as the morning stretched into the afternoon, I knew I had to tear myself away and go. Phil was right, staying here wasn’t wise for either of us.

I stood up and rested a gentle hand on Phil’s shoulder. I leaned over the bed and put a soft kiss on Old Phil’s cheek. He didn’t stir and it gutted me. I turned and gave the same kiss to Young Phil. “Whatever you need. If there’s something I can do, you have my cell. Promise you’ll use it?”

Phil put his hand over mine and squeezed. “I will, honey. You just take care of yourself. And don’t worry so much about the old man. He might not come back in fighting form. But he’ll come back. He’s too damn stubborn for anything else.”

I left him then, slowly backing into the hallway where Officers Smalls and Walling waited for me. But when I turned, they weren’t there. They had moved further down the hall and stood side by side, their hands on their hips. I looked both ways before fully leaving Phil’s room and started toward them. My heart dropped down into my shoes as I saw Mitch standing on the other side of the nurse’s desk looking stern and worried. He looked up and saw me. His green eyes glinted and he plastered a slight smile on his face. It was too late though. Something had happened. He wouldn’t be here if everything were all right. Our plan was to meet back at his place later this afternoon.

I smoothed my sweaty palms over the skirt of my tank dress and tucked a hair behind my ears as I walked toward them. The officers were talking with one of the nurses. She had a grim expression on her face. Behind her, one of the doctors stood with his arms folded around him. He kept shaking his head. Whatever the substance of their conversation, the doctor looked positively livid. But Mitch was more so. All color drained from his face. He had pounded a fist against the nurse’s desk and shook a finger at the doctor. The man backed down. He put a hand up and slowly nodded. Then the nurse charged past me, heading for Phil’s room.

“Mitch?” I said as I got within earshot. “What is it?”

He stepped around the officers and put a protective hand on the small of my back. I felt the heat of his touch and my breath caught. “I’ll explain later. For now, though, I need to get you out of here ten minutes ago.”