My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“Did you spend time with Mrs. Whitcomb yesterday?”
I gripped the doorframe.
“Yes. Why?”
He glanced toward her house.
There was an ambulance outside.
My heart sank.
“No.”
“I’m sorry. A neighbor found her on the porch early this morning. Paramedics believe she passed sometime before dawn.”
I covered my mouth.
“But I just saw her.”
“I understand.”
“We talked. She was fine.”
“From what we know, it appears to have been sudden.”
I started crying before I realized I was crying.
Then Sheriff Harland said something that confused me.
“There’s another reason we’re here.”
I looked at him.
“Mrs. Whitcomb had a camera overlooking her porch and driveway. We checked the footage while trying to establish when she was last outside.”
My chest tightened.
“Okay.”
“At around four-thirty this morning, she walked from her porch to your property.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“She put something in your mailbox.”
My fear returned instantly.
“What?”
“We don’t know. We didn’t want to remove something addressed to you unless necessary.”
Then he pointed across my lawn.
“Would you mind opening it?”
Every terrible possibility entered my head.
A goodbye letter.
Medical information.
Something accusing me of taking money.
Anything.
I walked toward the mailbox with the sheriff beside me.
My hands were shaking when I lifted the metal door.
Inside were two envelopes.
The first was thick and cream-colored, with my name written across the front.
Behind it was an official envelope from my mortgage company.
Across the center was a red stamp.
ACCOUNT SATISFIED — FORECLOSURE CANCELLED.
I actually screamed.
Not loudly for long.
Just one shocked sound that came out before my brain understood what I was seeing.
Then my knees weakened.
Sheriff Harland caught my elbow.
“Easy.”
