“Go on home, you two,” Sergeant Poole said. “We’ll make certain the place is locked when we’re finished.”
I grabbed my purse. As Gray and I walked out of the room, the sergeant called, “By the way, the place looks very nice.”
“Thanks.” Nice. We had been going for a lot more than nice.
Gray walked to my Caravan with me. I smiled at him, uncertain how to end the evening. On one hand, I’d just met him. On the other, we’d shared a pretty intense experience. Before the situation became too awkward and for want of a better idea, I stuck out my hand to shake good night. “I’m glad you were here. I’d have hated to go through all this alone.”
He waved my thanks away. “I’m going to follow you home to make sure you get there, okay?”
I was impressed and felt warmed right to the cockles of my heart, wherever those were. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I’d just like to.” He paused. “You don’t live, like, miles and miles away, do you?”
“No, about ten minutes.” Which, out in western Chester County, was nothing. “Really, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be. Still, I won’t sleep unless I know you’re safe. It’s a guy thing.”
“Protect the ladies?”
He shrugged. “What can I say?”
My stomach growled, and I flinched. So feminine and becoming.
He laughed as I pressed a hand against my middle. “Me, too. I never did get any dinner.” He checked his watch, something he’d been doing off and on all evening. “I think the only place that’s probably still open besides Wawa or Turkey Hill mini-marts is the Wendy’s window. Is that okay with you?”
I nodded, unreasonably glad I’d get to spend a bit more time with him. “We can pick something up and take it to my house.”
Gray climbed into his truck and followed me to Wendy’s and then to the three bedroom brick ranch I shared with Lucy and Meaghan in a modest neighborhood set on a hilltop. On the way we passed my favorite house, a beautiful and unique place that was part restoration of a great historic barn and part new construction with lots of windows and gables. Somehow it all worked, and as I stared up the long maple-tree-lined drive, I grinned. My window treatments hung in that house.
I pulled into the drive of our ranch, a far cry from the mansion I admired from afar, but a whole lot more user-friendly. I parked in the turnaround, the place designated for my Caravan since it was by far the worst of our three vehicles, and the weather couldn’t possibly do it any harm. Gray pulled up in front of the garage door.
I climbed down from the van, glad he was with me. The strips of woods between the houses might be a welcome privacy screen most of the time, but tonight they looked like menacing hiding places for assassins looking to take out witnesses. I walked quickly to the front door of the dark house, Gray right behind me.
“Looks like everyone’s in bed,” I said as I unlocked the door.
We had just stepped into the entry hall when the bedroom hall light flicked on. A very tousled Lucy appeared in her Girls Rule, Boys Drool sleep shirt, talking as she came. Her red curls corkscrewed wildly about her head, and her big black cat Tipsy lolled in her arms.
“And just what took you so long, Miss Anna?” she asked. “I was getting worried about you over there in that unpopulated place all alone.” Then she saw Gray. An appalled expression on her face, she darted back out of sight.
“That’s Lucy,” I said around a laugh. “And the furry monster in her arms is Tipsy. Luce, this is Grayson Edwards.”
“Hi, Ed,” Lucy called, and Gray rolled his eyes. “What a shame Anna can’t keep you, ’cause you look nice enough, the little I saw of you, tall, handsome, but you’ve seen me looking yucky, so you’ve got to go.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. Lucy was an original, and she said anything that popped into her mind, often in one long run-on sentence. Gray looked a bit thunderstruck, though he was smiling.
“Go to bed, Lucy.” I gestured for Gray to follow me to the kitchen. “I’ll tell you and Tipsy all about it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess I’d better before I embarrass you more.”
“What makes you think I’m embarrassed?”
“Hah! I know you, kiddo. Good night, Ed.” Her bedroom door clicked shut.
“Is she a teacher too?” Gray asked, his eyes dancing.
I nodded. “We all teach at Amhearst North Intermediate School. Lucy teaches English.”
“I bet her classes are a riot.”
“This is sixth to eighth grades we’re talking. All classes are a riot if you don’t watch out.”
“Didn’t you say there was a third one of you?” he asked.
Just then a snore echoed down the hall.
“That’s Meaghan. She has sinus issues. And when she falls asleep, nothing wakens her, except maybe her own snoring.”
“And what does she teach?”
“She’s the guidance counselor,” I explained as we unwrapped our fries and square hamburgers at the kitchen table. “Want a soda?”
He nodded and waited while I got two cans from the refrigerator and two glasses from the cupboard.
“Don’t dirty a glass. I’m fine with the can,” he said.
“This is an all-girl household.” I poured the sodas and handed Gray his drink. “We use glasses for company.”
“Waste of a clean glass.”
“I bet you usually drink your milk right out of the carton.”
“Unless my mother’s visiting. Then I put my manners back on so she thinks she did a good job raising me.” He took a swallow. “And I usually also say grace whether Mom’s around or not. Do you mind if I say it now for both of us?”
“Please do.” As I bowed my head, I glowed inside. Handsome, successful and Christian?
“So,” I said after his amen, “did your mom teach you to pray too?”
He nodded. “Janet Grayson Edwards is the queen of prayers. ‘There’s nothing too big or nothing too small to talk to the Lord about,’” he said in an obvious quote.
“Sounds about right to me,” I said.
Gray unwrapped his second burger. “Well, I can tell you, I don’t remember ever praying as hard as I prayed tonight when the shots started flying—”
“Shot,” I said automatically and wanted to shoot myself. I could hear my frustrated father saying, “Anna, you don’t have to correct every little thing.” I breathed more easily when Gray didn’t seem to notice.
“—at least not since I took my tests to be licensed as an architect.”
“The worst part was the look on Ken Ryder’s face.” I was suddenly no longer hungry.
Gray fiddled with a fry, swirling it around and around in a blob of catsup. “Not finding a pulse was pretty bad too.”
I made a sympathetic noise. “Was she a good friend of yours?”
“Not really. Business acquaintances, both of them, though I knew Dorothy better than Ken.” He set the fry down. “And I liked her. She was pleasant. Nice. Very good at what she did. Knew just what she wanted in the house. Only changed her mind every other day.”