The Last of the Moon Girls(16)

“Hello,” he said stiffly. “You might not remember me. I’m—”

“Andrew. From next door.”

He nodded, shifting the toolbox from his right hand to his left. “I didn’t know you were back. I’m sorry about your grandmother. I know you used to be close.”

Lizzy bristled at the suggestion that that was no longer the case. “We were still close.”

“Right. I didn’t mean—”

“She wrote me that your father died. I’m sorry. I remember him being a nice man. Nice to Althea.”

“Yes, he was, and thank you. I was on my way over to do some work on the greenhouse.”

“Evvie said you’d be by. Well, not you, but someone.”

An awkward silence spooled out as the small talk dried up. Andrew shifted the toolbox again and took a step forward, as if planning to accompany her back to the house. Lizzy turned away, heading down the path at a clip. She had a decision to make, and she didn’t want company. Andrew Greyson’s least of all.

Back at the house, she found Evvie seated at the kitchen table, surrounded by saucers filled with an assortment of colorful beads. She was stringing a necklace, threading a series of marbled blue spheres onto a thin leather cord. After a moment, she looked up.

“How was your walk?”

“You said someone was coming to work on the greenhouse. You didn’t say it was Andrew Greyson.”

Evvie shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered.” She peered at the beads she’d just strung, adjusting several before looking up. “Does it matter?”

“I was just surprised to see him. I didn’t know he was back.”

“Almost three years now. Came back when his daddy got sick, and never left. Truth be told, I think he was looking for a reason.”

“A reason?”

“He knew where he belonged. Chicago never really agreed with him. Salem Creek did. Simple as that. How was your walk?”

Lizzy blinked at her. She had a habit of doing that, changing the subject so abruptly you weren’t sure you’d been following the actual thread of the conversation. “I ended up at the pond,” she said quietly. “Seeing it again, after all these years, started me thinking. All the hideous things people said, the things they believed . . . I can’t help wondering if that’s why Althea got sick. Maybe she just . . . gave up.”

Evvie laid down her cord of beads and shot a look over her glasses. “Your gran never gave up on a thing in her life.”

“You weren’t here, Evvie. You can’t imagine what it was like, the way people looked at her after they pulled those girls up out of the water. And the worst part is nothing’s happened to change their minds. The people who believed it then still believe it.”

“Maybe. But there’s nothing to be done about it now. Once folks make up their minds, there’s not much chance of changing them. Not without proof.”

“What if there was proof?”

Evvie lifted her head. “Where are you going with this, little girl?”

Lizzy scooped a bead from the saucer, letting it roll against the flat of her hand, deep sea-blue flecked with gold pyrite, like a tiny world resting in her palm. Lapis lazuli, for revealing hidden truths. She dropped the bead back into the saucer and met Evvie’s gaze.

“Last night you asked me why I was here, and I said I came back to handle Althea’s personal effects, but the truth is I wasn’t planning to come at all. Then I found a note from Althea tucked into the journal you sent me. She said I was the best of the Moons, and that there were things that needed mending. Maybe that’s why I’m here—to mend things.”

“Mending things,” Evvie repeated thoughtfully. “What does that look like?”

Leave it to Evvie to jump straight to the thorny part of the equation. “I don’t know, exactly. But there’s got to be something I can do, some way to find out what really happened, and clear Althea’s name.”

Evvie slid her glasses off, a crease between her brows. “You think so?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a try. Eight years isn’t that long. Someone in this town knows something, maybe something they don’t realize they know. Asking questions might jog some memories.”

“Might jog a lot of things.”

Lizzy glowered at her. “What does that mean?”

“It means there are two sides to every sword. You’ll be digging those girls up for everyone to look at all over again. Folks might not take kindly to that.”

“Maybe not, but I can’t tiptoe around the truth because it might make someone uncomfortable. I did that once. I stuck my head in the sand and let this town bully my grandmother. I’m not doing that again.”

Evvie smothered a snort. “Your gran said you were feisty. She wasn’t lying.”

“Do you think I’m wrong?”

“No, I don’t. In fact, I know you’re dead right. But what you’re talking about—poking around, asking a lot of questions—could get messy, and the odds of getting at the truth are pretty low.”

“I know. But when I leave here, I’ll at least be able to say I tried.”

Evvie returned her glasses to the end of her nose and picked up the half-strung thong of beads. “Any idea where you might start?”