The Last of the Moon Girls(41)

Lizzy peered over her shoulder, relieved to find that there was no one lined up behind her. “Do you still see her?”

Judith shook her head wistfully. “No, but we still talk. She lives in Peabody now. She’s a hairdresser. Doing all right for herself too. She was seeing someone last time we spoke, which made me glad. She deserves some happiness after everything, a fresh start with fresh memories.”

Lizzy nodded. She understood better than most that sometimes a fresh start meant leaving a place. She also knew how hard it could be to look old memories in the eye. Was it fair to force herself into Susan Gilman’s world, to rip the scab off a wound that might finally be healing? She’d made that mistake with Susan’s ex, and it hadn’t gone well. But if she passed along her cell number by way of Judith Shrum, the decision would be Susan’s to make. Perhaps the years had rendered her more willing to share her ideas about the fate of her daughters.



An hour and a half later, Lizzy left Chuck Bundy’s office with a virtually untouched vanilla latte and a throbbing pain behind her right eye. As expected, the prospects for an easy sale were far from rosy, though he’d been careful to remind her several times throughout their conversation that he was speaking only in hypotheticals as it related to her particular property.

She’d gotten a crash course in real estate, learning the many pitfalls inherent in the sale of distressed properties, and how price could vary wildly based on the number of comparable listings currently on the market. When asked about the possibility of a quick sale, he’d been coolly evasive, suggesting they set up a time for him to come out and look around. Once he knew what he was dealing with, he’d give her a list of options, and they’d come up with a battle plan.

In the meantime, he’d given her some homework: documents she needed to locate; calls she needed to make; forms she’d need to procure, sign, and record with the county. He’d offered her a toothy smile as she left the office, assuring her that there was no such thing as an unsellable property, but now, as she drove home with terms like market saturation and stigmatized property rattling around in her head, she wasn’t so sure. Nor was she looking forward to explaining it all to Luc, and telling him she would be delayed. Again.

She was considering just how long she might be able to put off that conversation when her cell phone rang. She eyed the number on the hands-free display, wondering if she’d actually conjured Luc, but the area code was 978 rather than 212—not one she recognized.

“Hello?”

“Miss Moon?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Susan Gilman. Judith gave me your number.”

Lizzy was so surprised she could barely speak. “Thank you so much for calling. I know this is awkward, but I was wondering if you’d consider speaking with me. We could meet for coffee.”

“It would need to be here in Peabody,” she replied after a lengthy pause. “I can’t meet you in Salem Creek.”

“No, I understand. I’d be happy to come to you. Name the place, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m not sure I can tell you anything that will prove helpful, but if you have questions, I’ll answer whatever I can. I could meet you after work.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gilman. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“Today then. After I finish my shift. There’s a bookstore at the mall—a Barnes & Noble. I’ll be in the café at six.”



The café was packed when Lizzy arrived at ten minutes to six, students and business types mostly, hunched over laptops, earbuds plugged in. It took several passes before she spotted Susan Gilman seated at a corner table, and even then she had to do a double take.

The years had changed her, but not in the way they had changed her husband. Her hair, always mousy and lank, was now a pale shade of blonde with rose-gold highlights, and her makeup looked as if it had been applied by a professional. In her boots and skinny jeans, she looked chic, almost edgy.

“Mrs. Gilman?”

Susan looked up from her magazine without smiling. “I go by Ames now, my maiden name. It was just . . . easier. But please call me Susan.”

Lizzy nodded, understanding why her online searches had come up empty. “Thanks so much for agreeing to see me. Can I get you a coffee?”

“Thanks, I’m all set. My last appointment canceled, so I’ve been here awhile.” She gestured toward the vacant chair and waited until Lizzy was seated. “I hear you paid my ex-husband a visit.”

Lizzy opened her mouth, then closed it again, surprised that she knew about her visit to Fred Gilman’s trailer.

“Don’t look so surprised. We both know how that town works. Judith’s husband works at Mason Electric. It didn’t take long for word to spread that you’d shown up looking for Fred. So how’d it go?”

“Not well. I’m pretty sure he was trying to scare me off.”

Susan nodded grimly. “Big man, my ex.”

“Did he ever try to scare you?”

“He didn’t have to try. It came naturally.”

“Was he . . . abusive?”

“If you’re asking did he hit me—no. He got his point across in other ways.”

“What other ways?”

Susan lifted her mug, cradling it between her palms. Her hands were shaking. “There are all kinds of ways to be abusive, Ms. Moon. Ways that don’t leave scars for the neighbors and the police to see.”