The Last of the Moon Girls(94)
She heard her name, and felt it too, rasped warmly against her throat, pulling down the last of her barriers. She would regret it all in the morning. Perhaps they both would. But in this moment there was nothing but the feel and smell and taste of him. And the abandon of a moment that might never come again.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Andrew pulled the truck to the top of the drive and cut the engine. “Sit tight while I go in and look around. Until we know more, I think we should err on the side of caution.”
Lizzy watched as he disappeared around the side of the house, relieved to have a moment alone with her thoughts. The last twelve hours were still such a jumble. Waking to find a prowler in the house, her panicked flight through the woods, falling into bed with Andrew.
Her cheeks tingled as she remembered their bodies in the darkness, the dizzying sense of inevitability, like a tide rushing toward shore. She’d been swept away, drowned in the moment. But now, in the light of day, the tide had gone out again, leaving her to navigate the aftermath of last night’s weakness.
He had awakened her with coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs. She’d never had a man make her breakfast, let alone bring it to her in bed, unless she counted Luc showing up on the occasional Sunday morning with bagels from Luesden’s bakery.
They had eaten in silence at first, sitting cross-legged on Andrew’s bed, with her doing her best to keep her mouth full, and Andrew sneaking sidelong glances between bites of toast. He was being tactful, she realized, waiting for her to bring up what had happened between them. Because at some point they would need to talk about it—about what it meant, and what it didn’t—but so far, she’d been spared that conversation.
Andrew had barely finished his eggs when his cell went off. One of the contractors on the Boston job had called to tell him they’d discovered an issue with the foundation, one that would require both plumbing and wiring redos. The clients needed to see him ASAP, to talk options and costs. There had been a flurry of calls after that. He had apologized profusely, but the truth was she’d been grateful for the diversion.
Lizzy glanced out the passenger side window in time to see Andrew reappear and wave the all clear. She felt a frisson of dread as she climbed out of the truck and made her way to the back of the house. She’d been preparing herself for this all morning, but a chill prickled down her spine when she saw the mudroom door standing ajar. The lock plate had been pried from the jamb, the jamb itself visibly gouged.
“He jimmied his way in,” Andrew said, pointing out the damage. “Then apparently found the fuse box.”
Lizzy nodded mutely, eyeing the powdery black residue smearing the doorknob and jamb. She’d heard about fingerprint dust, about the mess it made and what a nightmare it was to clean up. Now she’d get to see it firsthand. For the second time in eight years, Moon Girl Farm had been designated a crime scene.
Andrew reached for her hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah. It just gives me the creeps, thinking about what could have happened.”
“Me too.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “We don’t have to stay long. You’ll just do a quick walk-through, see if anything’s missing, and get into some proper clothes. Although, I have to say, you look a lot better in my boxers than I do.”
Lizzy mustered a smile. He’d lent her a T-shirt and a pair of his boxers to wear. She’d had to roll the waistband several times to keep them up, but they’d done well enough.
“Ready to go in?”
She nodded, swallowing a groan.
Inside, the mess was even worse than expected. Lizzy did her best to ignore it as she moved from room to room, looking for rifled drawers and cabinets, but it was hard when virtually every surface was smeared with sooty residue, a stark reminder of the intruder’s presence.
“Well?” Andrew said when she made her way back around to the kitchen.
“Nothing’s missing down here. I guess he wasn’t here to steal the silver.”
“Looks that way.”
“I’ll have a quick look upstairs, then throw on some clothes so we can get this over with. I’d like to get a few hours of work in out in the barn when I get back, and then I guess I’ll have to start cleaning up this mess.”
Upstairs, she was relieved to find nothing disturbed. There were no ransacked closets or tousled drawers, and her purse and phone were both on the dresser where she’d left them. That the intruder hadn’t ventured upstairs should have been comforting. But it seemed only to confirm the suspicion that the break-in had been motivated by something other than robbery.
After swapping Andrew’s boxers for a pair of jeans, she ran a brush through her hair, slid her phone into her purse, and headed back down. She’d check in with Roger when she finished with the police, to fill him in and see where things stood.
She found Andrew in the front parlor, roaming from window to window, scribbling on the notepad Evvie usually kept by the phone. He turned when she entered the room, brows raised. “So?”
“I don’t think he made it upstairs at all. And if he did, it wasn’t to steal. My purse was on the dresser in plain sight. What are you doing?”
“Counting windows. I’ll replace the lock on the mudroom door this afternoon, and then the minute I get back from Boston, I’m fitting all these windows with new locks.”