The old man’s voice lifted. “I’m Maurice Goldblum. Florence and I have a son. His name is Murray. He and his family live in Tulsa, Oklahoma. It’s a very small world, isn’t it?”

And for the first time since the incident, Florence spoke. “He’s a lawyer, with a very prestigious firm.”

Debbie smiled. The color was slowly but surely coming back into Florence’s cheeks, as was the pride in her voice. She patted Florence and looked up, nervously scanning the crowd around them, hoping for a sign of a policeman or an ambulance or even better—Cole. Someone handed Debbie some wet paper towels. She draped one across Florence’s forehead. Maurice took another and wiped gently at the blood running down his wife’s leg.

*  *  *

“Let me through!” The authority in his voice, as well as the panic, was evident.

Debbie looked up. Cole! He was back. He was safe.

He knelt. Debbie started talking.

“This is Florence and Maurice Goldblum. They have a son named Murray who lives in Tulsa. Imagine that!” Her voice was just the least bit shaky as her eyes spoke what she dared not say. And then she reversed the introduction. “This is Cole Brownfield. He’s a policeman.”

Cole smiled gently at the look on the elderly couple’s faces. They were hanging on Debbie’s every word. Once more, she’d used her gentleness to make a bad situation easier. And then her next quiet statement made him take a second look at the old couple.

“She has a bad heart, Cole. Her medicine was in her bag.”

The multistriped carryall was still clutched in his hands. He’d almost forgotten it at the relief of finding Debbie. He quickly opened it and began to shuffle through what was left after the thieves had rummaged. He almost missed it. The tiny, round brown cylinder was caught in the soft corner, stuck deep in the careless folds.

“Would this be it?”

“My medicine!” Florence cried. The towel fell off her forehead into her lap as her fingers closed around the vial, grasping at it in shaky relief.

“Here,” Cole urged, “let me help.” He removed the cap, and handed it to Maurice.

The old gentleman shook out the correct dosage. Florence opened her mouth like a baby bird waiting to be fed and sighed quietly as the tiny pill went under her tongue.

“Thank you.” Maurice Goldblum grasped Cole’s forearm with trembling hands. “You saved her life.”