A moment later she was back. “It’s the police. They want to talk to you.”
Lizzy went to the door, where a pair of uniformed officers were waiting on the stoop.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Sergeant Woodruff,” the taller of the two said crisply. “This is Sergeant Grainger. We’re responding to a call about a doll and some sort of threat. Are you Elzibeth Moon?”
Lizzy jerked her head around at Evvie, who was now hovering within hearing range. She cocked an eye at Lizzy, then put up a hand. “Wasn’t me.”
Lizzy believed her. But who? It couldn’t have been Rhanna. She didn’t know about the doll. Which left . . . She’d kill him.
“May I ask who made the call?” she asked with a too-polite smile.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t actually have that information. We’d like to speak with you if we could, and take a look at the doll and note if you still have them, to get a feel for what we’re dealing with.”
“Actually, I don’t think I do,” Lizzy told him, knowing full well that she’d ripped the hideous thing in half and stuffed it into a bin in the mudroom. The last thing she needed was Rhanna walking in to find the police in the foyer. “I’m pretty sure I threw it out. In fact, I know I did.”
Evvie suddenly reappeared, cradling the remains of the doll in the crook of one arm. She passed the messy jumble of straw and black cloth to Sergeant Woodruff, then wiped her hands on her skirt, as if relieved to be rid of it. “There it is. The note too.” She cut her eyes at Lizzy. “They’re here. May as well show it to them.”
Sergeant Woodruff examined the remains of the doll with more than a little curiosity, slowly turning the pieces over in his hands. “Crude. Definitely homemade.” He lingered briefly over the note, then handed it to Grainger, who had come in behind him.
Grainger held the scrap of paper up to the light. “No watermark. Heavy, but definitely not expensive. Looks like it’s been torn from something. The text is in block letters. Red crayon. Could be a kid, but the verse feels too grown-up. Do you recognize the handwriting, Ms. Moon?”
Lizzy shook her head. “No.”
“Right. Just covering the bases. We’d like to take both the doll and the note with us, if you don’t mind. We also have some questions, if you can spare a few minutes.”
Lizzy opened her mouth to protest but nodded when she couldn’t think of a plausible excuse. She was going to kill Andrew.
Forty minutes later, Sergeant Woodruff finally closed his notepad and pushed to his feet, having gathered far more information than Lizzy wanted to share about her visits with Fred Gilman and Louise Ryerson. At least she’d managed to keep Roger’s name out of it.
“I think we have what we need for now,” Woodruff said, slipping his pen back into his shirt pocket. “Thank you for your time, though I suggest you leave the detective work to us in future. There’s a reason we caution people about taking matters into their own hands. It rarely turns out the way they hope.”
Leave the detective work to us? They’d done that eight years ago. It hadn’t worked out well. She managed to nod dutifully.
Grainger collected the note and the remains of the effigy, cradling them awkwardly against his chest. “We’ll be in touch, but feel free to call us if you see anything suspicious. We’ll be working with SCFD on the shed fire. When we have something, we’ll let you know. Until then, try to be patient.”
Lizzy watched from the doorway as the squad car backed down the drive. Thank the goddess that was over. She closed the door, leaning her forehead against it with a groan. Be patient. Were they kidding? She’d been patient for eight years. She was done being patient.
“Hello.”
She hadn’t heard Andrew come up behind her. She whirled, glaring as she waited for him to explain himself. At least he had the good grace to look sheepish.
“I saw Evvie in the kitchen. She told me to come in. She said she was pretty sure you wanted to talk to me.”
Lizzy folded her arms, eyeing him frostily. “I can’t imagine why.”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to get here before they did.”
“And that would make it better how?”
“I know you’re mad, but they needed to know, Lizzy. They needed to know all of it.”
“And you thought you should be the one to tell them?”
“You weren’t going to, so I did.”
“The fact that I told you I didn’t want them involved didn’t matter to you?”
“No. Yes.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Damn it. Of course it mattered. Just not as much as keeping you safe.”
Lizzy closed her eyes and pulled in a breath, shaking her head as she slowly let it out. “I don’t need to be kept safe, Andrew. I need answers. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to find someone, anyone, who knows how those girls ended up in my grandmother’s pond, and trying to stay under the radar while I did it, because that’s what you have to do when your last name is Moon. You have to not bother anyone. And then you go dragging the police into it. Who’s going to talk to me now?”
“I get it. I do. It’s about Althea. But your grandmother would back me up on this. She wouldn’t want you putting yourself in danger.”
“If they wanted to hurt me, they could just as easily have set fire to the house. Instead, they burned an empty shed. They wanted to scare me.”
“And did they?”
She stared at him, unwilling to admit that, yes, they had in fact scared her. Because that was the point of it all. “I’m tired of being
