The One Before: A totally gripping suspense thriller with a shocking twist

by Miranda Smith

  “Madison, what’s wrong?”

  “You remember what Coop told me about his ex-girlfriend who died? Celia?”

  I tell her everything. How the people in my new hometown act as though Coop is responsible for Celia’s death. How Helena deceived me for weeks in an attempt to turn me against him. That part of what she’d done worked because I no longer trust him. I tell her about the pictures I found and our angry confrontation. When I finish, I’m out of tears and Beth is something she never is: speechless.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “Honestly,” she begins, then waits. “I think it’s bullshit.”

  “Which part?”

  “The part where Coop is some girlfriend-killing madman. He’s a standup guy. The type to nurse injured cats back to health and help old ladies across the street. Could he put on that image and still be violent? Sure. Tons of people do it. We only show one facet of ourselves to the people around us. Very few see underneath the mask.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask, wondering if I’ve seen the wrong side of Coop this whole time.

  “If you need a Hallmark card, I’m sure there’s a Walgreens down the street.” She snorts. “What I’m saying is you’re one of the few people Coop has let in, from the sounds of it, ever. These angry simpletons and grieving mothers only see what they want to see. You have the full picture. Do you think he’s capable of murder? Of hurting these women?”

  “No. I don’t. But I can’t very well trust my emotions on something like this. People are content in relationships all the time only to find out their spouse has a secret family or a lover or worse.”

  “Yeah, but there’s usually a lot of heads in the sand before those revelations are made. You’re not like that, Madison. Hell, I’m surprised you made it this long without snooping through his things.”

  “I did look once before. I felt so guilty I vowed never to do it again.”

  “Okay, so that’s the lesson in all this. Some good can come from being nosy.”

  “Do you search Matt’s things?” Their relationship is perfect; I can’t imagine him giving her reason to be suspicious.

  “Are you kidding me? I have all his passwords memorized. I know where everything is in our house, even the things he thinks he’s hidden from me. But he knows all my stuff, too. Our lives are together. We should be able to go through each other’s things on a whim and not find anything.”

  “That’s what bothers me,” I say, wiping the tiny droplets sliding down my glass. “I’m afraid he has something to hide.”

  “Coop’s past isn’t the cleanest. You have questions and he can’t fault you for asking. Honestly, I can see why he didn’t tell you about girlfriend number two. The idea two of his relationships ended under mysterious circumstances would scare a lot of people off.”

  “Should it scare me off?”

  “You’re the only person who really knows. Do you think the man you’re about to marry is dangerous? Or are you considering walking away because everything is too coincidental?”

  “Anytime we’ve talked about Celia, he’s seemed genuine. When I asked him about Laura, he was upset, but I believed him. I think he was more scared of losing me.”

  “There’s your answer. Take some time. Think about it. Then go home and decide whether to make this relationship work.”

  Beth must have more faith in Coop than I do. She wouldn’t encourage me to go home to a potential murderer otherwise.

  “The way Helena speaks about Laura and Coop… she seems so convinced. It’s so real to her.”

  “It is real to her. She has no other outcome, so she copes with her daughter’s disappearance by finding someone else to blame. It doesn’t mean she’s right.”

  “You possess this unique gift that keeps me from jumping off the ledge.” I smile. Beth is working her magic.

  “That’s just the maternal wisdom starting to show.”

  “No. It’s been there all along.”

  “I can’t tell you what to do or who to believe. Listen to your heart. It knows Coop better than anyone.” She pauses, releasing a deep sigh. “I must say, I’ve never been more disappointed about missing the wedding. Sounds like Whisper Falls is full of shit starters.”

  “You have no idea.”

  By the end of our conversation, the anxiety in my chest lifts and my stomach grumbles. I order a sandwich, plus another drink. What I need to do is get back to a state of normal, physically and mentally.

  I text Coop, I’m getting a hotel for the night. We’ll talk in the morning.

  I google Yelp reviews for nearby hotels. A night apart will be good, for both of us. Plus, it provides a small taste of the independence I’ve been missing since moving to Whisper Falls.

  I check into my room and spend the first hour re-reading the articles I bookmarked last night relating to Laura’s disappearance. The available information is a web of miscommunication. Leads with no end, problems with no resolution. At least four or five people at the music festival claimed to have seen a girl who looked just like her. A few people traveling along the highway said the same thing. Eyewitness testimony is the most unreliable kind. Like most missing people, Laura was forever seen but never found. Still, with every article I read, there’s nothing that would make me think Coop is to blame. He was never identified as either a love interest or a suspect, but, in my mind, I can still hear Helena’s voice insisting he’s a murderer.

  I give up. I place my phone on Do Not Disturb mode, expecting to spend several hours mindlessly watching television. Instead, within minutes of crashing on the bed, I’m asleep.

  Forty-Four

  Helena

  Still no word from Madison. It’s been a full day since we spoke. On a whim, I drive by their house. The winding roads are scarier at night; the darkness and woods surround my car as though I’m on the brink of being swallowed whole. I approach their driveway and spot Cooper’s car, but Madison’s is gone. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Maybe she left him. But then, why wouldn’t she call me? Why wouldn’t she reach out for help?

  There’s nothing more unpredictable than the human heart. To me, Cooper Douglas is the vilest creature on this earth, the monster who stole my girl away. But to Madison, I remind myself, he’s something more. Madison doesn’t strike me as the type to hop into bed with the first man who dangles a ring in front of her face. She’s sacrificed for this relationship. Her feelings are developed and mature. A single conversation with me may not be enough to turn her. Yet.

  Everything in this town closes by ten. Thankfully, I visited the liquor store earlier in the week. I have a bottle waiting for me in my motel room’s mini fridge. Drinking has been my crutch ever since Laura died. I know it’s not healthy or good for me. Booze does to my emotions what scratching does to a scar; it makes me feel better in the moment but negates any real healing.

  I stopped drinking for several years. Before returning to Whisper, my life was nothing more than an intermission from one meeting to the next. Missing children support groups and Alcoholics Anonymous and grief counseling sessions. It helped for a while, but no community can guide me through this. That’s why I’m compelled to drink. It’s a way to come down from my mania.

  Shady Lane Motel is an accurate name if I’ve ever heard one. My neighbors here are scoundrels, usually booking the room next door only for the night. I imagine most people here are on the run or in between vices. This revolting place has been my temporary home for weeks, and I don’t plan on leaving until I know Madison is safe.

  Overgrown weeds cover the sidewalk leading to my room. There’s a water fountain in the courtyard just outside my door: a swan with an amputated wing, the aftermath of roughhousing between previous guests. The pool at the bottom is filled with cigarette butts and the stone needs a good pressure washing, but if I sit close enough to my window, I can hear the fountain’s tinkling through the walls.

  I like to close my eyes and imagine I’m back home. My real home i
n South Carolina. Back then I was married, not to a particularly good man, but a partner nonetheless. My days were spent planning weddings and parties and celebrations. I was the type of person people trusted with control. And I had the most beautiful daughter. It feels like a lifetime ago, and it was. Never did I imagine my life could fracture the way it has.

  We didn’t live far from the beach and would spend every spare moment visiting the water. I was amazed Laura wanted to leave our sunny shores behind to attend college in Tennessee, but I remember that age. You’re yearning to experience something different from what you’ve always known. I wanted that for her, too. For her to experience the world.

  Now I wish I’d pushed back harder. I should have demanded she attend school closer to home instead of sending her so far away. Cooper would have never met her. And yet, she always seemed happy when we spoke. She shone during our visits. My girl was happy that last year of her life, and I try to cling to that.

  The air conditioner kicks on, eliminating the sound of the water fountain and halting my happy memories mercilessly. I retrieve my bottle from the mini-fridge and pour a drink. After a few sips, I feel better. Calmer. I’ve missed Laura all these years. I’ll always miss her, but now I’m putting forth my last effort to bring her justice. Maybe I can bring justice for Celia, too. If more had been done to punish Cooper for her death, my Laura might still be alive. There must be some good in what I’m doing, otherwise I’ll have lost all reason to live.

  I lean against the stiff mattress I’ve called my bed. When I leave this town—if I ever leave this town—I’ll need to scrape together enough money to visit a chiropractor. Just another sacrifice I’m willing to make in the name of catching Cooper.

  For peace of mind, I pull out the nightstand drawer. Inside there’s a Bible, and beside that, my gun. I sleep better knowing it’s there. I sleep better knowing that if my appeals to Madison fail, at least I have some options left.

  Forty-Five

  Madison

  When I wake, it takes me a few minutes to recalibrate. Everything is different. My hotel room is white and cold and superficial. The bedside clock reads 5:21 a.m. I guess that’s what I get for crashing as early as I did. It takes mere seconds for the past two days to come flooding back. Helena and Coop. My conversation with Beth. I’m as unsure after a hard sleep as I was before.

  Coop has sent several text messages during the night. He left a voicemail around three o’clock.

  “Madison,” his voice starts, slow and tired. “It’s me. Again. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I understand you need space right now. I just… just…” There’s a pause and I can’t tell what he’s doing. The slight slur in his voice makes me think he’s shared one too many with Roman, or maybe he drank by himself. “I want you to know how much I love you. I hope you believe I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I wish I could go back to the beginning of our relationship and tell you everything. Anything I held back was only because I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t want to lose you. Come home. Please. And we can talk.”

  He didn’t send any messages after that. It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to find out where I am. In the rush of everything, I didn’t take the time to disable the location app on my phone. He could track my credit cards to find out which hotel I’m in. Knowing all this, I take comfort in the fact he’s giving me space. He’s allowing me time to process. He knows that’s what I need.

  Even in these moments of anger, I miss him. I miss Coop. More than a day has lapsed since my conversation with Helena. Despite everything she said, as convincing as she sounded, she wasn’t able to erase the love I have for him. As Beth pointed out, Helena sees a skewed side of Coop. I see all of him, and I know he’s good.

  I stand and stretch. There’s no chance of going back to sleep. It’s like my body gave me rest, then provided this placid window of time where I can do nothing but be alone and think. I pull back the curtains from the window. Knoxville is dark except for sporadic glimpses of light in scattered buildings. The view certainly isn’t like the city, but it’s not Whisper Falls either.

  I fear my overall anxiety about our new location has impacted my decisions. I’d never imagined living in a town so small, in a place where everyone knows each other’s secrets. I wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for Coop, and sometimes I resent him for that. I wanted to be Madison Sharpe, a writer and key player in my own life, not a supporting role in someone else’s. I wanted to be more than Mrs. Cooper Douglas. It’s easy for me to blame him for my change in pace, but my own faults led me to where I am today. My ambitions pushed me too far, and now I’m mourning both the person I was and the person I lost the chance to become.

  How can I fault Coop for what’s happened in his past when I’ve made bad choices myself? The way I fumbled the ‘Chrissy’ situation didn’t only halt my career; it had the potential to discredit other women. Real victims whose lives could have been ruined at the hands of an over-zealous journalist. Thankfully, that didn’t happen, and Bernard Wright received punishment for his crimes. But what if he hadn’t? I’m not sure I’d be able to live with the guilt. My brush with scandal changed my outlook. It’s not fair Coop lost both Celia and Laura in equally mysterious ways. Likewise, those losses have made him the man he is, the man I fell in love with. He’s guarded, with good reason.

  The only grudge I can hold against Coop is that he didn’t tell me about Laura sooner, and he withheld key details about Celia, too. He lied to me, in his own way. After having a small taste of what his upbringing in Whisper must have been like and seeing the lengths women like Helena would take to punish him, I can’t say I blame him. I understand why he keeps me and everyone else at a distance. When we uncovered Helena’s deception, his first reaction was anger for me. He was mad at himself for having dragged me into his past. He relinquished his own pride and ego years ago. My happiness is his main concern.

  The hours tick by. I shower and change clothes. As I’m eating the hotel’s in-room offering of scrambled eggs and toast, I google wedding boutiques in the area. While I’m in Knoxville, I might as well shop for a bridesmaid gown. When I check out of the hotel, I plug coordinates into my GPS for a shop called Chiffon and Champagne. I arrive just as they open and tell the woman at the register I’d like to see bridesmaid gowns.

  “How long until the wedding?” she asks. She has platinum curls and red lips.

  “About nine weeks,” I say, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head.

  “Oh, heavens. That limits our selection.” She’s probably afraid her commission will be cut if there’s not something I like.

  “As long as it’s white and available, I’m easy to please,” I reassure her.

  She pulls out four or five dresses and hangs them on a rack. “Will someone be joining us for a fitting?”

  “No, but I’ve got her measurements. I’ll pick something and be on my way.”

  “I wish every bride was this easy to please,” she says, fluffing the skirt of her first selection.

  I choose the third dress. It’s elegant, but not too bridal. It’s a different style from my dress entirely. The fabric is loose and flowy with a sheer overlay covering the neckline. It will look gorgeous on Regina with her pale skin and dark hair; her slim figure could pull off anything.

  I fill out the paperwork and follow the saleswoman to the counter. As this particular style is discontinued, she allows me to take the dress home today.

  “Anything else we can do for you?” she asks.

  “I’ve got everything I need.”

  I mean that. I’m back on track.

  It’s dark when I arrive home. The sun sets about twenty minutes earlier every night. Part of me expected to arrive to a full house. I thought Coop might recruit Regina and Roman to sit with him until I returned. Instead, it’s quiet. Coop is standing by the fireplace. He doesn’t budge, even when he hears me walk inside.

  “I’m home,” I say, placing my bag on the floor. I stand there, waiting for him
to turn.

  “Where did you go?” he asks, putting his drink on the hearth.

  “Knoxville.” I walk toward him, slowly. This is our first big argument, and the wounds are fresh. “I just needed space.”

  “What took you so long getting back?” he asks. His face is red. I can tell he’s been crying since before I arrived. My absence took more of a toll than I realized.

  “I decided to make use of my trip by going shopping. I bought Regina a dress for the wedding.”

  When he hears this, his solemn mood drops. He hugs me so hard my feet almost leave the ground. He’d been waiting for reassurance. I’m still with him. Not ever leaving his side again. I begin to cry, thinking about how I almost let mindless gossip tear us apart. How I almost gave this up for a history I’ll probably never truly understand. And I don’t need to understand it to love him with every ounce of my being.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, pulling my hand to make me sit on the sofa. “You’re so good to me, and I’ve not done right by you.”

  “You should give yourself more credit,” I say. The soft glow from the fireplace dances across his features, accentuating his handsomeness. I don’t think I could go the rest of my life without his face.

  “I know being with someone like me isn’t easy.”

  “It’s worth it,” I say, kissing his forehead. My own tears fall, landing on his hand.

  He stands and walks back to the fireplace. He finishes his drink, holding the empty glass as he watches the fire. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said. How we can overcome anything together. I know that now. I never want you to feel blindsided again.”

  “I’m sick of talking about the past. Let’s just be happy together. We were so happy, weren’t we? Before all these stories got the better of us.”

  “Unless we accept what’s happened in the past, we can’t move forward. That’s why I need to tell you something.”