“Jody’s mom didn’t have the car today,” she told Connie on one of her trips through the house.
“I know. I called.”
“Okay.”
“How’d you figure out how to use the phone so fast?”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “It’s easy, Mom.”
“I guess you’ll have to show me.”
“Sure.”
“Later.”
“Okay.” Sophie went back to her giggling conversation with Jody. At least Connie presumed it was Jody.
Connie walked around the house yet again, looking out all the windows, then went back downstairs, checking the perimeter from inside.
“You’re going to drive me crazy, girl,” Julia said. “Sit.”
This time Connie obeyed, even though her entire body felt electrified with the urge to move.
“You don’t know that he saw a threat,” Julia reminded her. “Remember, he doesn’t know folks around here. He could be mistaken.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Julia pushed a cup of coffee over to her. “Now listen to me, Connie. You’ll be of no earthly use to anyone if you wear yourself out over nothing. Which is exactly what you’re doing.”
Connie snapped. “Don’t you get it, Mom? Some stranger knows Sophie’s name.”
“I get it, all right. I also get that everyone in this county is on high alert right now, and if some stranger approaches any child, he’s apt to be shot before he’s questioned.”
It was true, Connie knew. Maybe not the shooting part, but nobody around here was going to turn a blind eye to anything now. Not anything.
“Your neighbors are watching out for Sophie. For all the kids,” Julia said. “You know that.”
Connie drew a deep breath and tried to release some of the tension. “You’re right,” she said.
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.”
Connie managed a wan smile. “Very true.”
Julia patted her hand. “Just hang in there. If the guy isn’t gone, he’ll get caught. In the meantime, everything possible is being done.”
Also true.
But it still wasn’t enough.
Just then, just as Connie was struggling with a desire to crawl out of her own skin as she tried to sit calmly at the table, Ethan entered through the kitchen door.
“Wild-goose chase,” he said succinctly.
“What did you see?”
“I thought I saw someone lurking in the bushes. If he was there, I sure as hell couldn’t find any evidence of it. Sorry I scared you.”
“Sit down,” Julia said, “and have some coffee with us. Thank you for trying to protect Sophie.”
Thank you? Connie thought. Thank you for scaring me out of my wits, she wanted to scream. But she knew that wasn’t fair even as she thought it, so she bit the words back. Instead, she filled her mouth with bitter coffee.
“How’s Sophie?” Ethan asked. He poured his own coffee and joined them.
“Oh, Sophie,” Connie said, trying not to let the tension seep into her words. “She’s so excited about having a cell phone, I doubt she noticed anything.”
“Good.” He sat across from her, studying her from dark eyes that seemed to see through her. The feeling was discomfiting, and she wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. “At least there’s one person I didn’t scare.”
Connie bit her lip, guilt edging into anger’s place. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve been worried to death.”
“Of course,” he answered. “You can yell at me if you want.”
His words acted like a pin, puncturing the last of her tension. A sigh escaped her as she rested her forehead on her hand. “You didn’t find anything at all?”
“No.”
The word hung on the air, bald and uncompromising, but its very brevity seemed to say something. Connie lifted her head. “There was someone there.”
His face took on that carved look again, as if it had turned to stone.
“What did you find?” she demanded.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I don’t usually hallucinate. My life depends on seeing what’s really there. I thought I saw something. I don’t like being wrong.”
That was a whole mouthful, Connie thought. A butterfly returned to her stomach.
Julia apparently missed the subtext, however, because she said kindly, “We all make mistakes, Ethan. God never made a perfect man or woman.”
“No,” he agreed. “Thank God.”
* * *
Later, much later after Julia and Sophie had gone to bed and to sleep, Connie found Ethan sitting up in the darkened living room. He hadn’t even spread out the blankets and sheets she’d given him earlier.
“Are you going to stay up all night?” she asked. “You need some sleep.”
“You’re one to talk.” He turned in the darkness, and she caught the glimmer of his eyes. In the faint misty light that came through the sheer curtains, he became a figure of myth, a tall man with long hair, lacking only a shield and a sword to complete the image. Deep down inside, sensations began to stir, sensations she had banished to hell years ago.
Instinctively, she pulled her robe tighter and held it closed over her breasts.