Sixty-One
Helena
An hour ago, I received a phone call from a woman named Detective Jensen. When she introduced herself, a series of images flashed through my mind: the gun tucked inside my waistband, my mad march to Nectar, the crime I’d almost committed on a crowded street. Then Detective Jensen spoke that sweet name: Laura. She was calling me about Laura, my darling girl I thought this world had forgotten.
Now, I’m sitting at the Whisper Falls Police Station, waiting to meet Detective Jensen. She’d assumed I was back home in South Carolina. When I informed her I was in Whisper Falls, she suggested a face-to-face meeting.
Like me, Detective Jensen is visiting Whisper Falls on business. Given her job, it can’t be often she’s in the position of spreading good news. Regardless of how tired she might be at this hour, she’s excited to share an update.
“We’ve made an arrest related to your daughter’s case,” she says, after taking a seat. It could be the overhead light or the lack of sleep, but I see a glimmer in her eyes. “His name is Cooper Douglas. He was your daughter’s boyfriend at the time she was reported missing.”
I know Jensen is set to list off a trail of evidence, but I’m not ready to hear it. I quietly weep, resting my head on the cold tabletop between us. I’ve waited so long to hear those words. I surrendered to the idea I might never hear them. Eleven years. That’s how long I’ve been searching for answers. Even when I saw him escorted to the police cruiser, I wasn’t sure I’d get to this moment. I’d been waiting to see what fancy lawyer his family ushered in this time around. I’d thought of a dozen ways he might weasel out of the charges. But Detective Jensen is telling me that didn’t happen. At long last, he’s been arrested.
When I raise my head, Detective Jensen is smiling. She must have an idea about how long I’ve waited to hear this. I wipe my swollen cheeks and attempt to compose myself. This wasn’t how I’d thought tonight would end. “Have you found her?”
“Not yet,” Jensen says, opening a file in her hands. “We received a tip that her body is in Whisper Lake. Dive teams will continue their search in the morning.”
All these years Laura has been in Whisper Lake? Her body hidden beneath the scenic centerpiece of the Douglas family’s estate? It makes sense, I suppose. That’s where Cooper disposed of his first victim. At least I can stop envisioning all the places Laura might be. I can know.
“If you still haven’t found her, why make an arrest now?”
“I hate to ask you to bear with me, but you must understand there’s sensitive information I can’t share yet. We’ll be prosecuting this case in my local jurisdiction, where it’s believed the crime took place. I’ll provide more information when I can.” She pauses, gauging my reaction to everything that has been said thus far. “We’re still piecing together what we know, but I’d be happy to answer your questions.”
When I speak, my voice is scratchy from my stifled emotions. “After all this time, what urged your department to reconsider Cooper as a suspect?”
“We received a credible tip. Cooper shared some of what happened with this informant, and they contacted us.”
An informant? Could it be Madison? Everyone else has been in the Douglas family pocket for years. No one else would have wandered in telling their story now. She must have uncovered something; my far-fetched plan to get her on my side worked.
Detective Jensen answers more of my questions, although she’s not willing to provide any specifics that could hinder their investigation. At this point, I probably know more details than they do. They’ve revisited this case in the past week. I’ve been imagining different scenarios for over a decade, all which led me back to Cooper Douglas. Finally, the police have reached the same conclusion. He’s in handcuffs, and I’ve been set free.
I make the short walk from the police station to my car. Light rain sprinkles over my skin, setting my senses ablaze. I breathe in the cool, damp air, rejuvenating my exhausted being. The only thing worse than losing a child is believing that loss will never be acknowledged. The world isn’t as bright as it was when my Laura was alive, but it’s no longer as dark. There’s at least some justice, some closure on the horizon. Laura is not forgotten.
For years, I’ve been my daughter’s only advocate, but tonight would not have happened without the help of at least one other person. I’m not sure what Madison said or did, what lengths she must have taken to make the police believe her, but I must thank her for what she’s done for me tonight. For what she’s done for my daughter.
Sixty-Two
Madison
I unlock the door to our empty house and collapse onto the couch. My time at the police station was exhausting, both mentally and physically. After I told the detective everything I knew, she left the room for what seemed like hours. I sat there alone, trying to predict all the ways this situation could turn out. What if they didn’t believe me? What if Coop was released and I had nowhere to go? Josephine probably already had a lawyer fighting in Coop’s corner, and who did I have? No one.
Before the woman left the room, I gave her Helena’s most recent phone number. I wasn’t sure what information they’d obtained at that point, but I knew they’d want to at least speak with Laura’s mother. She’s the one who got me involved with all this, and she’s the person who cares most about the outcome.
After what seemed like hours, the female officer returned to the room and told me something I wasn’t expecting to hear: Coop had confessed.
“Confessed?” I repeated the word as though it were a foreign addition to my vocabulary.
“Yes,” she said, tapping her pen against the table. “He corroborated almost everything you told us. The only thing he wouldn’t confirm is where he put Ms. Price’s body, but we’ve had boats on the lake for hours.”
That part surprised me. He told me where he put Laura’s body. Why wouldn’t he tell the police?
“Have you found her?”
“Not yet,” she said, emphasizing the last word. “We’re going to keep looking.”
“I thought Coop had a lawyer?” I couldn’t believe he had confessed so easily. He didn’t even put up a fight.
“Your fiancé refused counsel.” The woman shook her head. “I think he’s been carrying this guilt for a long time. I think he wanted the truth to come out.”
My bottom lip quivered. “Does he know I’m the person who turned him in?”
“Probably.” The woman extended her hand, gently tapping her fingers against the tabletop. “But you did the right thing, Madison. It would have been better if you’d come to us sooner, but you’re safe and that’s all that matters.”
“Will I be able to see him?”
“That wouldn’t be a smart move at the moment. There’s still a lot we need to sort out.” She leaned back. “Cooper did want us to tell you that he loves you. I’m not sure how I would take that, but I said I’d pass along the message.”
I’m crying now, as I think back to everything that’s happened tonight. It was a necessary betrayal to respond to the crime he committed so long ago. I look around this house that I’ve spent the past two months trying to make a home, something it will never be now, at least for me. I start a fire, knowing this will be what I miss most, and listen to the crackling as it blazes. After several minutes, I go upstairs and pack an overnight bag.
Back downstairs, my phone rings displaying an unknown number. Unsure whether it’s someone from the police department, I answer.
“Madison?” I immediately recognize Bailey’s voice.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I say, slumping onto the sofa.
“Is it true?” she asks, her voice low. “Did he confess?”
“Yes. I don’t know much beyond that.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m getting there,” I say. “I’m leaving town. Not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” She lets out a deep breath. “Have you talked to anyone else?”
“Just you. That’s why I’m leaving. Not sure I’m up to dealing with his family just yet.”
“Tell me about it. Regina is on her way over here right now. As you can imagine, she’s a wreck.”
“I’m guessing she doesn’t know you were involved in any of this?”
“It’ll be an ugly conversation when she finds out. She loves Cooper, but she also has a clear sense of right and wrong. She’ll come around.”
I hate that the Douglases will be hurt in all this, but these are repercussions of Coop’s actions, not mine. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
“Thank you for helping me,” I tell Bailey, ending the conversation.
There’s a knock at the door. I look out the front window and see Josephine. She’s swaying from side to side, rubbing her face with her hands. Seeing her grief reminds me of Helena. They’ve both experienced the unthinkable, losing their children in drastically different ways. As much as I want to ignore her, I can’t.
“Oh, thank God,” she says when I open the door. She runs into the house. “I didn’t know where else to go. Roman took off and Regina’s not answering her phone.”
“I’m so sorry, Josephine.” I’m not sure how much she knows, but none of it can be good. She breaks into sobs. I sit beside her, rubbing her back.
“I don’t understand any of this. They think he killed some Laura from college? I barely remember her.” The sorrow in her voice is audible. I’m in pain just listening.
“I’m sure we’ll get more details in the weeks to come.”
“They’re saying someone turned him in,” she says, jerking her head. Her makeup is smeared in the creases around her eyes. “It doesn’t make sense. This is like the Celia fiasco all over again. They’re framing him.”
There’s much to this story she doesn’t know, and I’m not the person who should tell her. Still, I think she needs to understand the arrest was based on more than just speculation. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Josephine,” I say, genuine tears forming. “Coop confessed tonight.”
“Confessed?” She scoots away and looks at me like I just called her a slur. This doesn’t make sense to her. “He confessed to killing someone?”
“That’s what they told me when I left the station.” I stand and walk toward the fireplace; it’s too painful being close to her.
“There must be a mistake. I sent a lawyer—”
“He turned down representation.”
“Then that shows he’s clearly not in his right mind. Confessions are coerced all the time. I’ll have to get the right people on it, but I’m sure we can get it thrown out. Once I find out the details—”
“What if he’s telling the truth?” I ask, cutting her off. I’m sorry that she’s mourning her son, but I think it would be cruel to let her create these impossible scenarios in her head.
“Madison,” she begins, calmly, “he can’t be telling the truth. This is Cooper we’re talking about. He’s not capable of hurting someone.”
I look at her, trying hard not to break. “I don’t know who he was back then. All I know is what he’s told me and what he’s told the police. I’m sorry.”
She stares at me, nodding. She looks around the room and spies my luggage by the staircase. “Are you leaving?”
“I think it’s best I go back to the city.”
She walks toward me, clasping my hands with hers. “You can’t give up on him, Madison. We’re family. You have to stand beside him.”
“I’m sorry, Josephine. Cooper has to answer for what he’s done, and I need to move on with my life.”
She turns, as though she’s just been slapped. I can’t imagine how painful this must be for her, hearing these horrible truths about her son and realizing life will never be the same. But I can’t base my decisions on other people’s sorrows. I’ve already been through enough.
She walks to the foyer. I think she’s going to leave, instead she opens the front door wide. Roman walks inside.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking a step forward.
He doesn’t say anything. Both hands are in his pockets, and he leans against the wall.
“I thought you said he took off?” I ask Josephine.
She shuts the door and locks it, then stands beside her son. “I think the three of us need to talk.”
Sixty-Three
June 16, 2006
Roman scrambled to put his shirt on, trying to conceal Celia so she could put on hers. He stood, staring at the flashlight in the distance.
“You know I don’t want you bringing girls here,” Josephine said. “I’m running a home, not a brothel.”
“Mom?” Roman shouted, staring into the dark.
Josephine marched down the dock and froze when she saw the girl’s face. “Celia?”
“We can explain,” Celia said, her mind scrambling to find a convincing story.
Josephine’s mouth was open. She shone her light on Roman, who was looking down at the water in shame. “Are you going to tell your brother about this, or am I?”
“Don’t say anything to Cooper,” Celia pleaded. “Please. Roman and I… we love each other.”
Roman looked at Celia, but not with pleasure. He saw through her charade. The same love she’d just rejected was now being used as a bargaining chip against his own family.
“This behavior is beneath you,” Josephine said to Roman. “It’s beneath all of us.”
Celia was now dressed and came running up the dock at Josephine. “Cooper and I have had trouble for a while now. Roman has been trying to think of a way to tell him—”
“Leave my property.” Josephine slung Celia’s arms off her. “Now.”
“Mama Douglas, I don’t want you to look at me differently—”
“Look at you differently?” she cut her off. “This confirms everything I ever thought about you. You’re nothing more than Whisper Falls trash. We’ve entertained you long enough.”
“Don’t take your anger out on her,” Roman said. He walked past Celia and grabbed his mother’s arms. “This is my fault.”
“I don’t want to see that whore on my property again.” She turned and made her way down the dock.
“Mama Douglas, wait!” Celia cried. Roman could hear the fear in her voice. He knew she was afraid his mother would ruin her reputation in town. Celia cared about that more than anything.
“Stop calling me that.” Josephine turned and shone the flashlight in Celia’s face. “I’m not some neighbor by the train tracks.”
“Just wait,” Celia said, pushing the torch out of her eyes. The light was blinding, making all their heads hurt.
“Get away from me!” Josephine pushed Celia.
Celia stumbled backwards, slipping on a patch of wet grass. She kept falling, arms flailing in the darkness, until her head clunked against the Douglas family rock.
The only thing more alarming than the fall was the silence that followed. Roman moved first, jumping off the dock and climbing down to where Celia had fallen. Josephine walked over slowly. She shone the flashlight on the wounded girl.
Celia’s eyes were closed, but her mouth was open. Her limbs were sprawled awkwardly about, and she was still. Roman lifted her head, blood gushing over his fingers.
“Oh my God, Mom,” he cried, sounding more like a small child than a young man. “Mom, this looks bad.”
Josephine was silent. The hand holding the flashlight started to shake, hindering their only source of light. “Is she dead?”
Roman pressed his hand against her wrist, then her chest. “I don’t know. Mom, what do we do?”
Josephine looked scared, but he could tell his mother was thinking. Thinking about the dying girl in the grass and what could happen to them as a result. “Take her out on the water.”
“The water?” Roman cradled Celia’s hemorrhaging head and kept trying to find a pulse. “Mom, she needs a hospital. She’s losing a lot of blood.”
“She’s already lost too much,” Josephine shoute
d at her son. “If she’s not dead yet, she will be soon.”
“Mom, we don’t know that.” Roman was crying in that desperate way people only can when around their parents. He needed counsel and reassurance, but he wasn’t getting either.
“Listen to me,” Josephine said, kneeling by him. “She’s in bad shape. Taking her to the hospital like this will only raise questions. Bad questions, and I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble.”
“Me? This was an accident—”
“Exactly. There’s no point in anyone’s future getting destroyed over a simple mistake.”
“But she needs help!”
How young Roman seemed when confronted by this situation, and how old his mother turned. While he was falling apart at the seams, she was poised and ready for the next step.
“I’ll hose off the blood around the dock. You need to take her to a deep point on the lake. Tie her ankles to a rock and drop her.”
Hearing those words shocked him. Hearing them come from his mother’s mouth was terrifying. “I can’t do that, Mom. I love her—”
“Don’t ever say those words again, do you hear me? And I’ll never tell Cooper anything I witnessed here tonight,” she spat, shining the flashlight on Celia’s still face. “You caused this in more ways than one, Roman. Don’t forget that.”
“Mom? Dad? Is anyone down there?” Cooper’s voice called from the house in the distance. Roman and Josephine both turned but didn’t see anyone approaching. She switched off the flashlight.
“Be there in a minute,” Josephine shouted back, her voice calm and normal.
They heard a door slam, then quiet. She turned back to Roman, clicking the flashlight on.
“Do what I say. Now. Before your brother finds out.”
Even if Roman knew what to say, he couldn’t speak. He was crying too hard, but he nodded his understanding. Josephine marched up the hill to the house, leaving her son alone in the dark with Celia.
The One Before: A totally gripping suspense thriller with a shocking twist Page 23