It was a quiet Saturday night. The station was quiet. One of the two patrol cars was out cruising main street watching out for drunks. Sergeant Margaret O'Hannon was on duty on the front desk. At thirty, she was an attractive woman with short dark hair and a toned curvy figure. She found men were often intimidated at the thought of dating a police woman and despite a number of boyfriends over the years, she remained single.

It had been a quiet evening and she was looking forward to going home. Her superior, Lieutenant Konczak, was watching football on a small TV in his office.

O'Hannon picked up the phone on its first ring. "Rock Valley police station," she said.

"Oh Maggie! I'm glad it's you," said an elderly and slightly quavering voice.

"Martha, Hi! How are you doing?" Sergeant O'Hannon was concerned. She had known Martha, as she knew most of her small community, for years. Martha's husband, Ted, had been buried only yesterday morning.

"I'm, well I'm okay." Martha paused, "you're going to think I'm mad but, could you come round?" Martha was quietly crying.

"Hey, it's okay. I finish in a couple of hours, I'll call in on the way home," said O'Hannon.

"No. No, you don't understand. I want you to come round now. It's Ted," Martha sniffed and then whispered down the phone, "he's come back. He's outside tapping on the patio window."