Or he dies a horrible death because some crazy old bat decided to take him off his meds and out of reach of medical help.

“Not thinking that,” Rose says to herself.

Rose locates SouthPark Mall on Google Maps. After a heated discussion, she elicits promises from Mel and Royal that they won’t follow her. Though Eddie has his softer side—as evidenced by Tania and Amy—she does not want him to see Mel, or even know Mel exists. Rose has not forgotten the Eddie who came down the ridgeline with a knife in his teeth.

The mall is busy enough that Rose feels safe. Guards stand around the way mall guards do. She mentally takes note of their whereabouts. The one loitering between LensCrafters and the Disney Store is closest. He doesn’t look much younger than she, and not in as good shape.

Ageism. Mel was right. Rose banishes the judgment.

Hunched over, elbows on knees, Eddie is waiting on a park-style bench outside the Chick-fil-A. He is sporting the black ball cap, cargo shorts, T-shirt, and deck shoes. Rose wonders if he is on a job, and if that job is her. She waits until he notices her; then, while he watches, she goes over to the security guard by LensCrafters. Eddie flinches as if he is thinking of bolting. Rose pats the air reassuringly. He settles back down.

“Excuse me, Officer.” His name tag reads WARREN VAN FLEET. “Warren, may I call you Warren?” Rose hopes her moment of television fame has not made her face a household name. “Could you help me?”

“That’s what we’re here for. And Warren is fine,” he says. He has a nice voice, deep with a hint of a southern drawl. Up close he is bigger than Rose had thought. There is a bit of lard, but under it she can see muscle.

“I don’t want to be a pest,” she says sweetly.

“Never a pest. Truth is, I’d be glad for a purpose. It’ll take my mind off my feet.” He smiles a tired smile, but one with warmth and endurance. Rose guesses he is the kind of guy who will work until the day he dies regardless of financial need.

“I’m meeting with that man on the bench, at least I think it’s him, the one in the black ball cap.” She points. Eddie squirms like a six-year-old who has to go to the toilet. “I’m thinking of hiring him to do my yard work. I wanted to meet him in a public place. I’m sure he’s a wonderful young man and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but, you see, I lost my husband recently…”

“That’s a shame,” Warren says sympathetically. “How did he die?”

Rose suppresses a giggle. Fortunately it comes out sounding like a sob. “I don’t want to go into that.”