To Andrew’s astonishment, Gilman’s face crumbled. His body went next, his shoulders and chest caving in as a series of sobs bubbled up in his throat. “It was supposed to be over. When that old crone died, that was supposed to be the end of it.” His breath was coming in ragged gulps now, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Now the other two are back, and the whole town’s talking. No one wants them here. They need to know that.”

“So you set fire to the shed and burned down their orchard—so they’d know.”

Gilman’s eyes flew open. “What? No! I had nothing to do with that!”

Andrew tightened his grip on Gilman’s collar. “And the doll in the tree. The note. That was you too?”

“It wasn’t!”

“Perhaps you need the police to jog your memory. What do you think, should I give them a call? Tell them you threatened a woman with an ax today? Because I think that’s the kind of thing they might be interested in.”

Gilman went pale, his body suddenly limp. “No. No police. Please. I don’t know anything about any doll. And I had nothing to do with that fire. I swear it. I just wanted to scare her, so she’d leave us alone.” He shook his head, blinking away a fresh rush of tears. “I wanted her gone is all. For the dead to stay dead and buried.”

“I’m having trouble believing a word you’re telling me, Mr. Gilman. But here’s what I do believe—you’re a bully. And bullies are just cowards who pretend to be tough guys. It’s why you like to pick on women. But there are a few things you should know about the Moons, and about Lizzy Moon in particular. They don’t scare easy, and they don’t back down. The other thing you should know is that if I catch even a whiff of you around Moon Girl Farm, or anywhere near Lizzy, it won’t be the police you need to worry about. It’ll be me. Do you understand?”

Gilman stared back at Andrew, his mouth drooping mutely.

Andrew gave him a final shake. “Say you understand.”

All Gilman managed was a nod, but it was enough. For now.

Lizzy was sitting on the front steps, sipping a glass of wine and watching night fall, when Andrew pulled into the drive. She lifted her glass in a half-hearted greeting.

“You’re back,” she said, as he came up the walk.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Counting fireflies,” she said quietly. “I loved fireflies when I was a little girl. They looked like stars dancing in the treetops.” She lifted her glass, sipping lazily. “We don’t have them in New York. In the city, I mean. Once, I . . .”

The words trailed off and she fell silent. Andrew eyed the wineglass as he dropped down beside her, wondering how many she’d had. “You all right?”

“Just . . . a bit of a day.” She waited a beat, then pulled in a deep breath. “My Realtor broke up with me this morning, I may or may not have quit my job, and I was threatened by a crazy man with an ax. On the bright side, the bank is going to let me mortgage my grandmother’s farm.” She frowned as she stared into her wineglass. “I think there might be a country song in there somewhere.”

Andrew barely registered the quip. “You quit your job?”

“Maybe.” She paused. Another shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t understand. How don’t you know?”

“Luc and I got into it this morning, about me coming back. It didn’t end well.” She craned her neck, feigning interest in the darkening violet sky. “Let’s talk about something else, okay? How was Fred Gilman?”

“The man’s a wreck of a human being, that’s for sure. But he’s hard to read. I asked him about the fire and the note. He denied it all, of course. Claimed he had nothing to do with it. When I called him a liar, the bastard broke down crying.”

Lizzy’s mouth dropped open. “He . . . wait . . . did you say crying?”

“Like a baby. Honest-to-god tears running down his face.”

She tilted her head back, studying him. “You almost sound sorry for him.”

“I might be if I could get past the image of him holding an ax. But there were times when it felt like he was telling the truth. He talked about being relieved when Althea died, about how her dying meant it was finally over. And he looked genuinely horrified when I accused him of setting the fire. It might have been an act, but it didn’t feel like it.”

“You’re saying you believe him?”

“I’m saying I don’t know. For one thing, there are two different questions on the table. The first is whether Gilman is responsible for the fire and the note. The second is whether he’s capable of harming his own daughters. And the truth is I don’t know the answer to either. Like I said, the guy’s hard to read. One minute he’s all bowed up, talking like a big man; the next he’s a sniveling, snotty mess. One thing I do know is that he doesn’t want you here. He also doesn’t want the cops involved. He looked absolutely petrified when I suggested calling them.”

“So that’s it? We’re back to square one?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I was pretty clear on what would happen if he bothered you again. I called Roger on the way back and ran the whole thing by him. He agrees that while Gilman was way over the line this afternoon, nothing he said or did was actually illegal, but he said it might be good to get it on the record. The police will send someone around to talk to him, take a statement, probably warn him to stay away. Gilman won’t like it, but that’s his problem.”

Lizzy shook her head wearily. “I know I probably overreacted this afternoon, turning up like some hysterical damsel in distress, but he was just so angry. I didn’t know what to do. You were the first person I thought of.”

“I’m glad. And you didn’t overreact. I know you hate anyone trying to protect you, but under the circumstances . . .”

She was quiet for a time, allowing the crickets and peepers to fill in the stretch of silence. Finally, she sighed, tipping her glass to him. “All right. You can be my bodyguard. But I’d appreciate you not mentioning this afternoon to Evvie and Rhanna. I don’t want them freaking out on me.”

Andrew nodded grudgingly. “Where are they, by the way?”

“Out in the shop, making one last push for the festival this weekend. I was out there for a while, but I bailed. I needed some time to clear my head.”

“And count fireflies?”

She smiled sadly as she looked off into the distance. “Yes.”

Andrew watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight, so cool and still, and so very far away. But then she’d always had a talent for detachment, an ability to hold herself apart from the world around her—and from him.

“I’m glad you thought of me today, Lizzy, and that you felt you could come to me. You always can, you know. No matter what happens with us—or doesn’t happen—I’ll be here for you.” He stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. A reflex to keep from reaching for her.

Lizzy blinked up at him, as if startled to find him on his feet. “You’re going?”

“Have to. I’m off to Boston in a few days, and I need to finish the latest set of plans. If I don’t see Evvie and Rhanna before they leave for the festival, tell them I said good luck.”

“Andrew.” She stood so that they were face-to-face, her eyes luminous in the moonlight. “Last night in the barn, when we . . .” She dipped her head awkwardly. “It’s not that I’m not . . . I just . . . can’t. You get that, right?”

He heard what she was saying. Maybe she even believed it. But as he met those silvery-gray eyes, he saw the truth: that if he wanted to, he could kiss her. She wouldn’t stop him this time, despite all her careful explanations. The wine—and perhaps the events of the day—had softened her up, leaving her pliant and vulnerable. But he also saw that she would regret it. Again. And there’d be no coming back from a second rejection.

He took a careful step back. He could wait. Even if waiting meant never. “Good night, Lizzy.”

THIRTY-FOUR

August 19

It was the quiet that woke Lizzy at 2:00 a.m., the prickly sensation that something wasn’t right. There was no light bleeding out from under Evvie’s door, no muffled Joplin or Creedence drifting down the hall from Rhanna’s room. Then she remembered: Rhanna and Evvie had set out for Connecticut just after breakfast, headed for the fair with a load of salt scrubs and massage oils, and Ben’s borrowed umbrella.

She’d spent the rest of the day in the barn, organizing her workbench and unpacking supplies, then experimenting with what she hoped would be a workable formula for the re-creation of Earth Song. But the work left her restless and unable to settle. It had taken a hot bath and a cup of valerian root tea to finally get her to sleep. And now she was awake again.