“You wouldn’t get home until close to two a.m. There’s no sense in you spending the whole day in the car.”
“It would be worth it to know you’re safe.”
“That woman only called once. I don’t think she’ll try it again.”
“I could reach out to Jimmy at the police station. It only takes one phone call to get him involved,” Coop says, tightening his grip on the suitcase. “I want this woman to be punished for what she did to you.”
I look away. “What she did wrecked our wedding, but there’s no use in pursuing it. If she’s still this disturbed by something that happened thirteen years ago, she’s already being punished.”
Something that happened. The woman’s daughter died. I know grief doesn’t have an expiration date, and it must be excruciating to think you know who’s to blame. The facts remain: there’s nothing connecting Coop to Celia’s death, and if she knew the man I know, she’d see he’s not capable of violence. Her sorrow may be warranted, but it doesn’t give her permission to ruin Coop’s life.
“What time are Roman and Regina coming over?” he asks, as I follow him to his car.
“Around eight. Regina is bringing food from Nectar. It should be an easy night all around.”
“I hope so.” Coop bends to give me a kiss. His lips linger longer than they should, signaling the fear he feels in leaving. “I love you.”
I squeeze his neck, a cue that all will be fine. “I love you too.”
I didn’t think I’d have so much fun with Roman and Regina. Maybe it’s because I’m tipsy. In the two hours they’ve been here, we’ve drained the pitcher of cocktails Roman insisted he prepare. The Stromboli Regina brought struggles to soak up our buzz, and we’re all talkative and giggly. The unfortunate predicament with Celia’s mother has brought us closer somehow. Maybe they feel sorry for me, or guilty because being part of the Douglas family has left me damaged.
They’ve shared a handful of stories about Coop’s childhood, all embarrassing but harmless. After much pushing, I tell them about the early days of our relationship and what our lives were like in the city.
“We’re just happy Coop is taking the plunge and getting hitched,” Roman says. “It takes the pressure off us. I think Mom was afraid she’d never be a grandmother.”
“That’s not true,” Regina chimes in. “You’re just more likely to give her a grandchild before a daughter-in-law.”
“Hush,” Roman says, tossing back his drink.
“I mean, really,” she continues. “It’s a wonder you haven’t had a kid yet. You’ve only slept with everyone between here and the tri-cities area.”
I expect Roman to act bruised, instead he grins. It’s not a positive description, but clearly he’ll take it. “I don’t see you burning up the dating scene either,” he says to his sister. “You have plans of giving Mom grandchildren?”
“Only time will tell,” she says. They exchange a doubtful look, sip their drinks in unison and laugh.
This is what siblings do, I’ve learned. They poke and fight, but they forgive and love. Regina especially. Her persistent rib-jabbing might as well be a hug. It’s just her way of showing affection.
Another hour passes. We’ve skidded away from the topic of relationships and are back to discussing the pros and cons of this place we call home.
“There are a few things you need to know about Whisper Falls,” Regina says, her words beginning to slur. “The town is quiet, but the people are loud.”
I agree with her on this point. I always thought the city and its people were loud. Now I know people there are quieter than they appear. They stick to their huddle, their group. It only seems loud because there are so many groups. Whisper Falls is the opposite; everything is wide open. When people here talk, everyone hears.
“Don’t listen to Regina,” Roman says, taking on a slightly more serious tone. “She’s a pessimist.”
“I am not a pessimist,” she says, making a poignant pause between each word. The statement is so untrue, even she laughs.
“You won’t give this town a chance,” Roman says.
“Me?” Regina stands unsteadily. “This town doesn’t give me a chance! They don’t take a chance on anyone unless they act like everyone else. There’s no room for diversity or growth. This place—” She stops talking, suddenly frozen. She sprints to the downstairs bathroom and slams the door.
Roman and I can’t help but laugh when, minutes later, there’s the unmistakable cry of a person getting sick.
“This is a new one,” Roman says.
“What?”
“Usually Regina is the one taking care of me when I’ve had one too many.” He sips his beer, but he can’t seem to shake his sister’s comments from earlier. “She’s always beating up on Whisper, and I get it—life here hasn’t been the easiest for her. But Regina only focuses on what this town lacks. Whisper has some nice people. They might talk shit from time to time, but they’re also on their knees praying when the bad times hit. Like when Dad died.”
He pauses, reflecting on the words he’s said and the life he’s lived.
“It’s definitely a tight-knit community,” I say. It’s odd to see the contrast between how Roman and Regina view their hometown. From what I can tell so far, I tend to side with Regina.
“There’s good here,” Roman continues. “We’ve got some of the best carpenters in the south. They might make a tenth of what your people in the city make, but they’re a lot better at the job. People here care about things. They garden and they fish. I’m not trying to convince you to love Whisper Falls. I guess I’m just saying you and Cooper can be happy here, if you want to be.”
I finish the rest of my wine, thinking about what he’s said. “You two didn’t have to come over here, you know.”
“It felt like the right thing to do,” he says, leaning into the headrest. “Coop would have done it for us.”
“The three of you are very close.”
“We might fight, but we’ll always have each other’s backs.”
“I think most families are like that,” I say. “The good ones, anyway.”
“I worried we might have scared you off after your first few dinners with us.” He laughs. “I know we take some getting used to.”
“Maybe a little.” We both laugh. “You’ve all really been there for me ever since the incident with Celia’s mom. That means a lot.”
“It’s not fair what that woman’s put him through over the years.” He puts down his beer and crosses his arms. “She really did a number on him after Celia died, and Cooper didn’t deserve any of it.”
“That’s been the hardest part to understand.” I look at Roman, who has moved closer to me. He wants to hear my take. Tonight is the first time we’ve really talked. “Whenever I was around ‘Anne’, she never seemed spiteful. She never made it seem like she wanted to ruin the wedding or Coop. It’s like she just wanted to get to know me.”
“Maybe she picked up on the fact that you’re new to Whisper Falls, new to this family. That was her way of isolating you.”
“Oh.” I think back to my interactions with ‘Anne’ with a renewed sting. She predicted my insecurities and used them to her advantage. It hurts more because her plan worked. Our appointments were the only time I felt I was making decisions as Madison Sharpe, not Madison soon-to-be Douglas. “Based on the way your family has described her, I didn’t think she’d have the patience for that.”
“To be honest, I thought the same thing.” He opens another beer and takes a sip. “Every time I saw that woman, she was either crying or yelling. She was drunk a lot, too. Must have been her way of coping.”
“It would be an unimaginable thing to live with. The thought someone murdered your daughter.”
“Thing is, no matter what people told her about Celia’s death being accidental, she refused to listen.” He shakes his head, his brown curls falling over his forehead. “She had her version of what happened, and that was all that mattere
d. That’s what made her dangerous.”
“Coop wants to have her arrested for fraud, or whatever. I’m not sure it’s worth the hassle.”
“She’s been in and out of Cooper’s life for more than a decade now. He wants to make sure she won’t do this type of thing again. You want to know the saddest part in all of this? None of this is about Celia. Her mother was barely around when she was alive. She didn’t give a damn about her daughter until after she died.”
That’s another detail that doesn’t make sense about the ‘Anne’ I knew. The one time she brought up her daughter’s death, she didn’t make Celia sound like a pawn in a game. She sounded like her whole heart had been ripped from within her. I felt her pain. Not once did I see a bitter woman desperate for revenge; I saw a grieving mother.
“Time does things to people, I guess.”
Roman nods, but this time he doesn’t smile. “Sure does.”
Thirty-Six
Madison
The bathroom door slams against the wall, startling us both. Regina stumbles into the living room with one of our new washcloths pressed to her forehead.
“Are you okay?” Roman asks her.
“I need to go home,” she slurs.
He looks at me, then his sister. “I’d thought we’d stay a little longer. At least until Madison is ready for bed.”
“No, please,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
Regina sways in between us. “Of course she’s sure. You’re a big girl, aren’t you, Maddy?” She lets out a painful laugh, then speaks sincerely. “Will you be okay?”
“Stop worrying about me,” I insist. “I’ll probably be asleep before you make it home.”
Roman takes Regina’s arm and swings it over his shoulders. She’s only putting weight on one of her legs and humming a wobbly tune as they make their way to the car.
Roman buckles his sister into the passenger seat and shuts the door. “Promise you’ll call if anything weird happens, okay?”
“I promise.”
I walk inside the house and lock the doors. I’m always alone during the day, but there is a different aura at night. Each creak in this old house is a little louder, and the room feels hollow. I carry our dirty dishes into the kitchen and wash them off in the sink. There’s more drinking glasses than anything, and I laugh when I think of Regina being so drunk. She puts effort into her tough exterior; it slipped rather quickly after one too many drinks.
By the time I’ve finished washing, my fingertips are pruned. Without the water running, the house is eerily silent. I walk through the house blowing out candles. For a moment, I wish Regina or Roman had stayed, or that Coop hadn’t left at all. That’s just my tired, paranoid mind, I know. By morning, I’ll feel better about things and braver for having gotten through the night.
Just as I’m about to walk upstairs, I notice a phone sitting on the coffee table. It’s locked, but I know it’s Regina’s because the home screen is a picture of Nectar. Man, she was drunk. She didn’t even remember to take her phone.
There’s a knock at the front door. I open it, assuming Roman has returned for the phone, but when I swing open the door, no one is outside. All I hear is the hushed sound of wind rustling leaves.
“Hello?” I call out.
“Madison.”
It’s her. The woman who claimed to be Anne Richards. She’s standing to the left of the front door, as though she knocked and lost her nerve. Like she was about to run away again.
“I’m calling the police.” I try to close the door, but she moves closer, stopping me.
“Madison, please. Just hear what I have to say.”
“I don’t care what you have to say.” I push her scrawny arms away from me. “My brother-in-law will be back soon. You need to go.”
“I watched them pull onto the main road and waited,” she says, dropping her hands by her sides. “They’re not coming back.”
I weigh my options, whether what she’s said is true or not. Even if I were to call the police, it would be another twenty minutes before they arrived. I’m alone with this woman, surrounded by nothing but darkness and barren fields. Fear rises, beckoning me to react, but forcing me to stand still.
“I know who you really are,” I say, as hatefully as I can.
“Please, just listen,” she says, calmly. There’s not an ounce of urgency in her voice. She’s the ‘Anne’ I remember. Calmed and poised and sincere. “You couldn’t possibly know who I am.”
“You’re Celia’s mother! The Douglases have told me everything you’ve done to try and hurt Coop over the years, and now you’re trying to hurt me!” I shout. Anger pours out of me. Although this woman looks like she can be trusted, I know she’s a fraud.
“This isn’t about that—”
“I don’t care what you say.” I cut her off before she can finish. “I know Coop did not kill Celia.”
She looks down, like she’s already lost the battle. Without moving, she takes a deep breath. Then she speaks:
“I know everything about Celia Gray. Her height. Her weight. Even her zodiac sign. I know how long her body was allegedly in that water before the police fished her out. I have her whole file memorized. But she’s not my daughter.” She looks up, a gleam in her eyes. “My daughter’s name was Laura Price, and Cooper Douglas killed her.”
Thirty-Seven
Helena
It feels like forever since I’ve said her name. Laura. My beautiful, sweet Laura. Speaking of her brings her back, and for a moment, it’s like she’s here with me, giving me the strength to continue.
Madison stands in the doorway, one hand on the knob, but both feet are outside. She’s staring at me, as if she misunderstood what I said. After several seconds, she speaks.
“Who is Laura Price?”
“She’s my daughter,” I say, letting out a controlled breath. I move forward, and she doesn’t tremble, which is a good sign. “I’m Helena Price. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that earlier.”
Madison pinches the bridge of her nose and shuts her eyes. “I don’t understand. Why are you… how are you…”
“All I ask is that you hear me out. I’ll tell you everything, then if you want me to walk out of your life, I will.”
She looks down, like she can’t trust her own judgment in this bizarre moment. “My fiancé… Coop is—”
“Cooper is out of the house. That’s why I waited until tonight.” After some digging, I found out he was expected to attend a press function in Nashville tonight. I’d have made my move earlier, but his siblings stayed later than I expected. I waited for them to leave so I could have Madison all to myself.
“I don’t even know you,” she says, dropping her hands by her sides. She’s struggling over what to do. Over whom to trust. “You’re following us around. And throwing out names I’ve never even heard before.”
“Let me in,” I say, gently. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Madison looks me up and down, assessing the potential threat. My hands are bare, and only a small handbag hangs from my shoulder. She walks inside, holding the door open for me to follow. She still won’t look at me, like she’s an opponent defeated in a match. The point of this has never been to beat her. I’m trying to beat Cooper, but in order to do that, Madison needs to know things. Things that will hurt.
We walk into the living room. She pulls her feet onto the sofa and holds a pillow between her knees and chest. “Who is Laura?”
I clear my throat and smile. Despite the intensity of this moment, I finally get to talk about her again. That makes me happy. “She’s my daughter. We lived in South Carolina, a good distance from here. She attended college in Tennessee. The same one as Cooper.”
“And that’s where they met?”
“Yes. They started dating during their sophomore year. She told me a lot about him. He made her so happy.” I stop. I always struggle juggling my happy memories of Laura against the painful re
ality that Cooper gave her those elated feelings. “As I said, I didn’t live close enough to visit often. I never met him when they were together.”
“How long did they date?” She’s trying to compare every detail I provide against her own knowledge of events. Searching, hoping for an inconsistency.
“Several months. She was in love, there’s no doubt about that. At the beginning of the year, she was very homesick. When she met Cooper, her whole outlook changed; I’d never heard her more excited. We’d talk on the phone every day, and she’d share about their studies and their dates. Their campus wasn’t far from here, so she was no stranger to Whisper Falls. His family had the pleasure of meeting her, too.” I tighten my jaw, wishing desperately the story could end here with my daughter’s happiness, but I must continue. “The last time we spoke, she sounded different. Upset. She said she’d heard a rumor. Something bad.”
“What was it?” she asks, jumping in.
“I don’t know. We got off the phone just as Cooper arrived at her apartment. She promised to call back that next day, but never did. No one had contact with her after that night. She was just gone. I did everything I could to find her. I visited the campus and handed out flyers. Social media wasn’t what it is today, but several of her friends reached out to help. She had so many friends, my Laura.” I smile briefly, then my stare hardens. “Do you know who never once offered assistance?”
“Cooper.” His name leaves her lips in a whisper. She’s hesitant to say anything else because she’s unsure about what she knows. That helps.
“The first time I met him was at a vigil her friends organized. He didn’t know who I was, and when I told him, he retreated like he’d seen a ghost. Refused to speak with me. I told the police he was the last person to see her. He cooperated with them, but he actively avoided me. Who does that to the mother of their missing girlfriend?”
The One Before: A totally gripping suspense thriller with a shocking twist Page 15