The Last of the Moon Girls

by Barbara Davis

  “Let us worry about that.”

  Helen blinked at him, genuinely stunned. “I don’t know what to say. After everything . . . I don’t deserve that sort of kindness.”

  Lizzy met Andrew’s eyes briefly, then laid a hand on Helen’s. “There’s been enough harm done, Helen. You ending up in jail won’t undo any of it. Let us help you if we can.”

  “All right then. Thank you.” Helen stood, sniffling, and pushed her crumpled tissues into her pocket. “I’d better find Kayla and go. I work at two, and I have things to do. Should I just wait to hear from you?”

  “I’ll make a call. It shouldn’t be long.”

  Andrew took Helen out to the garden to find Kayla. Lizzy remained on the settee, drained and numb. She’d wanted the truth, and she’d gotten it. All of it.

  The twisted lives of the Hanley boys, the by-product of a drunken and morally bankrupt father. Two girls brutally murdered, because one of them was afraid to go home. Her skin crawled at the thought of Fred Gilman standing over his daughter’s bed. At some point, she’d need to call Susan. She deserved to know the truth, and not from a headline in the Chronicle.

  After years of heartache, she would finally know what happened to her girls, but the grief and the questions would never end. How could they when the loss was so inexplicably cruel?

  There was no way to know if her husband had ever acted on his fixation with Heather, but it was hard to look at the chain of events and not conclude that it had played a role in the behaviors that ultimately led to her oldest daughter’s death. And poor Darcy had been collateral damage.

  As for Fred Gilman, he’d soon have a new demon to wrestle—himself. He’d spent the last eight years accusing Althea Moon of murder. Now he could live with the knowledge that to some extent at least, he’d been culpable in the deaths of his daughters. But then he’d probably known that all along. And maybe that was the most fitting punishment of all. Guilt was a cruel and relentless jailer.

  FORTY-THREE

  The sound of the mudroom door jolted Lizzy from her musings. She met Andrew’s eyes as he reappeared. “Is she gone?”

  “Yeah. And Evvie and Rhanna are on their way to the market. You okay?”

  “It’s just so much to wrap my head around. I’m still digesting.”

  “I should have asked you before I volunteered to help Helen. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

  “No. I’m glad you did. I saw the look on her face yesterday at the market. She was truly terrified of him. I can’t blame her for staying quiet. I would have done the same thing if I had a little girl to protect.”

  “So should we give Roger a call? I can put my phone on speaker.”

  “The sooner, the better. You know this town. Word’s going to get out, and it’ll be better for Helen if she goes to the police before they come to her.”

  “I agree.” Andrew pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hit the call button, and set the phone down on the table between them. It rang three times before Roger picked up.

  “Hey, it’s Andrew. Have you got a minute? I need to run something by you.”

  “I do, but first, how’s Lizzy? I just got off the phone with Michael Hammond. He told me about last night. Jesus.”

  “She’s here with me. She’s pretty banged up, but she’s got plenty of nurses. I think we might need another favor, though. A big one this time.”

  “Okay. Let me have it.”

  “Let’s say, hypothetically, that I have someone who can tell the police exactly what happened to the Gilman girls, but that someone is afraid of going to jail for not coming forward sooner. If she was afraid for her life, or the life of someone close to her—a child, for instance—is there a chance the police would cut her some slack?”

  “I’m assuming we’re talking about Helen Hanley?”

  Andrew caught Lizzy’s eye, brows raised. Lizzy nodded, giving him the go-ahead.

  “She spilled everything, Roger. About Hollis, Dennis, even the old man. They were all there, all part of it. She’s going to the police either way, but I was hoping there might be a way to help her, maybe someone you could talk to. She didn’t come forward because Dennis was threatening her. She has a little girl, Roger.”

  There was a long pause. Lizzy held her breath, waiting.

  “I need to hear her story,” Roger said finally. “If I’m satisfied, I’ll ask my brother to arrange a meeting with someone in the DA’s office. She could be looking at accessory after the fact. She didn’t just protect her husband. She protected his brother and her father-in-law, and there’s no privilege for in-laws. But if she really was afraid for her life, or her daughter’s, there might be a deal to be had. Give me a couple hours to make some calls and take some temperatures. I’ll call you back when I know something. We can set a time to talk if we need to. Until then, she shouldn’t talk to anyone.”

  “It sounds like there’s at least a chance,” Lizzy said when Andrew ended the call. “I’m glad. Even if she did have a legal obligation to come forward, the police can’t blame her for protecting her child. And she’s doing the right thing now.”

  “I think they’ll see her as credible. All you have to do is look at her to know she was scared silly. I had to help her get Kayla in the car seat. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn’t do the straps. I told her I’d call her tonight after I hear back from Roger.”

  “Speaking of phones, I guess I’ll need a new cell phone.”

  Andrew eyed her sternly. “No driving for you yet. I’ll take you in a day or two. Right now you need to rest.”

  “I am a little worn-out,” she admitted, sensing a potentially awkward shift in topic. “Maybe I’ll try to nap while the house is quiet.”

  “Can I get you anything? Jell-O? Soup?”

  Lizzy flashed back to something Evvie had asked once. Did she have someone to fix her soup? She’d said no at the time, but she did have someone now—if she wanted him. And she did want him. More than she had allowed herself to admit. But letting him stay and play nurse was a bad idea. For starters, she’d be sending mixed signals, not to mention the very real possibility that she would drop her guard again. She’d hurt him once. She wasn’t doing it again.

  “Thanks, but I’m good.” She managed a smile, wincing as the butterfly closure over her top lip pulled. “You need to get back to Boston. You have a business to run, clients to keep happy.”

  Andrew glanced away briefly, clearing his throat. “I’ll stay, Lizzy. All you have to do is ask.”

  Be strong. Don’t falter now. Say what you need to and let him go.

  “I can’t, Andrew.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both. You’ve done so much already. I need to let you get back to your life.”

  “So you can get back to yours?”

  Lizzy forced herself to meet his gaze. “I had an email from the bank. The loan went through, which means I can start lining up the repairs, and Rhanna knows a real estate agent who owes her a favor. I should be able to wrap things up in about a week.”

  “Right,” Andrew said, pushing to his feet. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out. I’ll make you a list of reputable contractors before I leave town.”

  “Thank you.” She blinked against the threat of tears, afraid some part of her would break open if she tried to say more. She watched, throat aching, as he headed for the door.

  Let him go, Lizzy.

  FORTY-FOUR

  August 26

  Lizzy braced herself as she caught sight of the barn—the first time since it had burned to the ground. Seven days had passed since the fire; four since Helen Hanley had spoken to the DA in exchange for immunity; three since Andrew had left for Boston.

  The concussion symptoms had finally subsided, the bruising along her jaw had mellowed to an iridescent mix of violets and greens, and her lip was healing well, thanks to the salve of comfrey and geranium Rhanna had whipped up in the shop.

  Rhanna walked beside her now, her face s
olemn beneath her fading California tan. They’d come to say a goodbye of sorts. The demolition crew Andrew had contracted to remove the remains of the barn had called to say they’d be arriving soon.

  They stood silent for a time, shoulder to shoulder, looking down from the top of the rise. There wasn’t a trace of Rhanna’s mural left. It was just a charred hull now, scorched and jagged against the bright morning sky. It had been a landmark to some, an eyesore to others, and in a few hours it would be gone, scrubbed from the landscape.

  The thought rocked Lizzy more than she cared to admit. She wasn’t even gone yet, and it was already happening. Little by little, the Moons and their way of life were disappearing, the links of Althea’s precious chain beginning to give way. It shouldn’t matter. She was leaving soon. But it did, somehow. It was a piece of her past, a piece of all their pasts, and soon it would be nothing but a memory.

  Lizzy and Rhanna turned in unison at the sound of gears grinding up the driveway. Another few minutes and the bulldozer was lumbering in their direction. A man in a hard hat and bright-orange vest kept pace a few steps behind, a clipboard in his hand.

  Lizzy held her breath as the dozer came on, then breathed a sigh of relief when it halted just short of the barn, as if an eleventh-hour stay of execution had been granted. “I suppose I need to go down and give them the green light, or whatever it is I’m supposed to do.”

  The dozer operator had climbed down and joined his counterpart. They stood with their backs to Lizzy as she approached, gesturing now and then as they worked out a plan of attack. The man with the clipboard noticed her first.

  “We’re supposed to talk to Elzibeth Moon. Would that be you?”

  “Yes. I’m Lizzy Moon.”

  He handed her the clipboard, pointing to the signature line at the bottom of the work order. “We’ll need you to sign off—here.”

  Lizzy signed and handed back the clipboard.

  “Anyone currently inside the structure?”

  Lizzy eyed the charred ruin dubiously, but she supposed there were policies to follow. “No. No one.”

  “Good then. It shouldn’t take long. The removal truck will be by later to clean up and haul it all away. We’ll need you to move back, and stay clear until we wrap up.”

  Lizzy felt numb as she walked back up the rise to join Rhanna, her arms folded tight to her body. “We need to stay clear while they work. He said it won’t take long.”

  Rhanna sank down onto the grass, sitting cross-legged. Lizzy sat beside her, knees hugged to her chest, watching as the men slowly circled the barn.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Rhanna said, shaking her head. “It’s just so horrible.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved that mural.”

  Rhanna’s head snapped around. “I wasn’t talking about the mural. I was talking about you—about what almost happened. What on earth were you doing in the barn anyway?”

  Lizzy thought of the Earth Song, so close to completion—lost now. There wouldn’t be time to re-create it before she left, so there really wasn’t any point in keeping it a secret. “I was making perfume.”

  Rhanna’s eyes widened. “You were not.”

  “The Earth Song you used to like—I was trying to re-create it. I wanted to surprise you with it before I left.”

  “Oh, baby. What a lovely thing to do.”

  She shrugged. “It’s gone now. The fire . . .”

  “No,” Rhanna said, catching Lizzy’s hand and holding it tight. “Don’t you dare. You’re here. I’m here. That’s all that matters. Just knowing you wanted to do that . . .” She glanced down at their entwined hands and smiled. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I’ve been back. Why I’m here, after the way things went down, all the messes I made. I thought it was to pay my dues, you know, like a penance. Now I know it wasn’t that at all. I came back for you, Lizzy. I came back here to learn how to be your mother.” She paused, smiling wistfully. “I know. My timing stinks. I’m about thirty-six years too late. But I’ll always be grateful for these weeks with you.”

  Lizzy felt something let go in her chest as she met Rhanna’s gaze, a bloom of emotion unfurling like petals under a warm sun. They’d come a long way in only a few short weeks, unpacking years of baggage, opening old wounds. Rhanna had laid herself open, owned her mistakes, and paid her penance. But what about her own wounds? A lifetime of resentment and blame, the ache of abandonment she’d never allowed herself to admit. Perhaps it was she who’d had the longer road to travel.

  She laid a hand on Rhanna’s arm, tentative about risking the unsolicited contact. “When you showed up . . . I was horrid to you. I didn’t want you here because I didn’t want to admit that it hurt that you never wanted me. I’d spent too many years pretending not to care to just let it all go. Growing up, I used to hope that one day you’d learn to like me, that we’d finally be a family, but you never did. Then you took off, and that was that. I guess I was trying to punish you. Now I understand why you did what you did, and I’m glad you came back, glad we had this chance to reconnect.”

  The bulldozer cranked up again, and they fell silent.

  Lizzy raised a hand to block the sun, her throat constricting as the dozer moved in for its first pass, then backed up, repositioned, and advanced again. The fresh gouge in the earth left a hollow in the pit of her stomach. Time marched on, it seemed, even in Salem Creek.

  Thirty minutes later, the remains of the barn had been reduced to a heap of charred timber, and the dozer was gone. Rhanna plucked several blades of grass and began to braid them together. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

  Lizzy wasn’t surprised by the question. There’d been a sense of finality in the air all morning. Apparently, Rhanna felt it too. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “A day or two.”

  Rhanna’s face fell. “That soon?”

  “I called Luc to let him know things were wrapping up. Andrew helped me line up a roofer and an electrician, and Billy Church emailed me the listing contract first thing this morning. Thanks for calling in that favor, by the way. You and Evvie are welcome to stay until the farm sells. That’ll give you time to make plans. There’ll be some insurance money from the fire. Not much, but that and the loan money should keep you afloat until we find a buyer.”

  “You’re really going to do it,” Rhanna said quietly.

  “You thought I wasn’t?”

  Rhanna lifted a shoulder. “I guess I hoped you’d have a change of heart, that we’d reopen the shop and run it together. I thought you and Andrew might . . .”

  “Live happily ever after?”

  Rhanna smiled sheepishly. “Something like that, yeah. I was surprised that he left for Boston without saying goodbye.”

  “We already said our goodbyes.”

  “When? I didn’t see him.”

  Lizzy blew out a breath. She’d been hoping to avoid this conversation. “The night of the break-in—when I wound up at Andrew’s—we spent the night together.”

  “Oh, Lizzy . . .”

  “The next morning I realized I’d made a mistake, and I slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t fair to let him think we were ever going anywhere. I was trying to make things easier.”

  “Easier for who? The man’s in love with you. And unless I miss my guess, you’re in love with him too. How is any of that a mistake?”

  “It just is,” Lizzy shot back. “This isn’t an episode of Bewitched. The happily-ever-after thing—the honeymoon, the kids, the Disney vacations—that’s for other people. Normal people. And we both know that’s not who we are. Andrew knows it too.”

  Rhanna stared at her. “You told him . . . about us?”

  “I didn’t have to tell him. He knew. He’s always known, apparently. He swears it doesn’t matter, and I think he even believes it. But eventually it will matter. He deserves the kind of life I could never give him.”

  Rhanna shook her head slowly. “Peter, Paul, and Mary. I knew you we
re stubborn, but I never realized you were stupid. You have a shot at something amazing, and you’re just going to walk away? Because of some moldy old family tradition? Or because it might be messy? Times change, Lizzy. Even for people like us. The days of the solitary crone ended a century ago. There’s no reason we can’t have someone in our lives if we want to.”

  Lizzy threw a pointed glance at Rhanna’s left hand. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

  “No,” Rhanna said softly. “You don’t. I missed my window. But don’t think for a minute that if I ever have the chance you have right now, I won’t grab it with both hands. To have a man look at me the way Andrew looks at you? A man willing to take me on, in spite of my bizarre family baggage? You bet your sweet ass I would. Because I’d know how lucky I was, and just how rare a man like that is.”

  “You don’t think I know what I’m walking away from? Of course I know. But there’s more to it than that. There’s my job, and this town—”

  Rhanna caught Lizzy by the sleeve, cutting her off. “Lizzy, honey, this is your chance. He’s your chance. And the rest of it’s just crap.”

  Lizzy bit her tongue, unwilling to test their fledgling truce. It was easy for Rhanna. Until three weeks ago, she’d never committed to anything in her life, and especially not a man. She had no idea what it meant to risk her heart and lose. Come to that, neither had she. Until now.

  She pulled free of Rhanna’s grasp and stood. “I’m sorry. I need to get back. I still have things to pack.”

  She was halfway down the rise when she heard Rhanna call after her. “You’re allowed to be happy, Lizzy.”

  Back at the house, Lizzy was greeted by the aroma of white sage smoke. She found Evvie in the parlor, a smoldering sage bundle in one hand, a saucer of spent ashes in the other.

  “Thought it was time to give the place a good clean,” she said, wafting white smoke up into the corners. “I did the upstairs first, and made sure all the windows were open. Let all the bad juju out.”

  Lizzy forced a smile, recalling their first meeting, face-to-face in this very room, the prickly words and hard glances. She would miss Evvie. Her gruff wisdom and fierce loyalty. Her homegrown honey and Creole lullabies. She claimed to have plans for after the farm sold—for both herself and her bees—but thus far had kept those plans to herself. Perhaps she would return to Baton Rouge. Or head to Texas to be with her sister. Both were viable options. Still, it was hard to imagine her anywhere but the farm.