The Arrangement

by Kiersten Modglin

  “I don’t know if I can move past this, Ains…”

  “You can,” she said simply. “You have to. We have to. I’ve forgiven you, Peter. For Seth. For all the women. All the lies. You can forgive me for this. We can move past it. You said if I told you everything, you’d still love me. You said we’d be together forever. This is our moment of total honesty. We get all the secrets out, and then we move forward. That’s what you said.”

  “Yeah, but I never expected anything like this… You made me kill someone, Ainsley. All for your sick mind games.”

  “I didn’t make you do anything. You’re the one who swung the bat.”

  “Because you told me that he was—”

  “What’s done is done,” she said, swiping her hand through the air as if dusting our problem away. “I’m the one who knows where the murder weapon is. Where the body is. I’m the one who can tell the police what happened that night. And who do you think they’ll believe? The jealous husband? Or the wife who went out with a serial rapist and lived to tell the tale?”

  She reached out, running a finger down my chest, her nail digging into my skin through my shirt. “Nothing can ever come between us now, don’t you see that? If we can love each other through all of the darkness, we’ll be able to survive anything. I’ve given us a gift. I’ve made our sins equal. I do love you, Peter. I’ve never stopped. Once the anger fades, I know you’ll see it too. I know you love me.”

  She pressed up onto her tiptoes and kissed my lips. I didn’t resist, but I didn’t kiss her back. When we broke apart, she appeared unbothered and tapped a finger to the end of my nose. “No more secrets. Just honesty and love.”

  She lowered herself, gave me a small smile, and walked away. I heard the shuffling of her feet across the hardwood in the kitchen. And then, like so many nights before, as if this night wasn’t any different, she called, “I still need to go check on Glennon. Can you handle dinner?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  AINSLEY

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  “Glennon’s on the phone,” I called to Peter, leaning my head out the door. “She and her mom are in Panama City. She wants to know if you want a blue or red shirt from the gift shop.”

  He lifted his head up from where he was working in the yard. “Tell her to surprise me.”

  “Can do,” I said, closing the door. “Did you hear that?”

  She giggled. “I did. One glittery pink shirt coming up.”

  “Has Seth gotten down there yet?”

  “He’s coming down tomorrow after he gets back from Salt Lake City.”

  “How do you think he’s doing?” I asked. I’d been concerned about him, though not concerned enough to invite him around. Not yet. I wanted Glennon to find her footing, to guide us in the direction she wanted to go. Would we ever be friends like we were before? I didn’t know. I could no longer trust him. But with time, I was learning, all things could be healed.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I think he’s happier, but I know his parents are struggling with it. The business is doing well, though. They just bought out a little mom-and-pop shop in Vegas. So what if he lost his trust fund? He doesn’t need it anymore. What he needs is to be happy. We both do. I’m glad we’re back to something cordial, though… I’ve missed him. ”

  “I’m sure you have, and I know he’s happy to be seeing you again,” I said. “I’m glad to see you happy. Whatever that means.”

  “Thanks, friend. I love ya. I’m gonna get off of here and pay for this adorable pink shirt I’m surprising Peter with,” she said with a boisterous laugh.

  I smiled, shaking my head. “Okay, we’ll see you in a week. Love ya.” I ended the call and grabbed the two glasses of lemonade I’d prepared. The summer was coming in quickly, and it was rare to find a day under ninety degrees anymore.

  We’d waited to start our latest project until the investigation surrounding Stefan and Illiana’s disappearances had died down. Though neither of them had been located, the news was reporting that the police believed the two of them could have crossed the border either north or south. A few months ago, the police had stopped patrolling the area, giving us our freedom and peace of mind back.

  And Peter and I were better. We were trying true counseling this time, and it seemed to be helping.

  Total honesty.

  No more secrets.

  That was our new philosophy. No more lies, even when they hurt.

  Our marriage had become…interesting to say the least, but we were in it for the long haul, and that was all I could ask for. Besides, the sex had become phenomenal, usually ending with a few bruises, bite marks, and occasionally some blood.

  Neither of us seemed to mind.

  What we’d gone through had awakened something in us both. We were wild now, free and open with each other in a way we’d never been before. We parented differently, embraced life as it came. I didn’t worry about all that I’d never get back, choosing instead to look forward to all I still had coming.

  I wanted to live my life. I wanted to explore. And I wanted to do it all with Peter by my side.

  “Here you go,” I told him, handing over both glasses of lemonade before I jumped down from the edge of the porch. I took mine back once I’d landed and sank down in the lawn chair, watching him as he drank his glass. He leaned over, propping his arm against the handle of the garden hoe he’d been using to smooth the new concrete patio in our front yard.

  The kids had been all too happy to disappear for the day, especially when we’d asked them for help tearing up the front porch to make way for our new project.

  That left the house to ourselves and a full day to get our new patio completed. We’d been working tirelessly, but as the afternoon sun had begun to set, the concrete had been laid and smoothed. All that was left, after the concrete dried, was to build a small set of stairs from the little section of our porch that remained down onto the concrete slab.

  It had been the biggest wave of relief—the moment Peter began pouring the concrete, the moment I realized we were actually going to get away with this. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

  Suddenly, nothing mattered.

  We’d gotten through it.

  We’d survived.

  Peter walked over to me, bending down and kissing me square on the mouth. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. The kiss lingered, causing me to lose myself in the moment. When we broke apart, he smiled at me lovingly and ran a hand through my hair, then plopped down on the grass next to me, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “Well, what do you think, Mrs. Greenburg?”

  “It looks amazing,” I told him. “Seriously, you’d think you were an architect or something.”

  He laughed. “Well, it’s not half as good as my team could’ve done, but you should see the blueprint.”

  “We’ll have to hang it up,” I teased.

  “I’m glad to have it done,” he said. “I feel like I can breathe again.”

  I sipped my lemonade, staring out at the sun as it set. “Same.”

  He reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you,” he said, catching me off guard.

  “For what?” I asked with a soft laugh.

  “For fixing me. For fixing us. I may not agree with your methods, but they worked. You fixed our marriage, Ainsley. You fixed me. Made me better. If not for you, I’d still be out there…lost. Messing things up for us.”

  “I fix things, honey. And you happen to be my favorite thing to fix.” I winked at him, pursing my lips. He set his glass down, smiling up at me and jerking his head in the opposite direction, begging me to come sit next to him.

  When I stood, he pulled me down onto his lap, kissing me deeply, his breath heavy. His sweat rubbed off on me as my lemonade spilled, but neither of us cared. We rolled in the grass, kissing and exploring like two teenagers.

  He was right, I’d fixed us.

  And I had zero regrets.

  Chapter
Thirty-Four

  PETER

  After the sun had set, Ainsley went inside to clean up before dinner. The concrete was dry, though not fully set. In the morning, I’d build the stairs, and it would be done. Before I joined her inside, I walked into the garage, putting the tools away.

  I couldn’t stop smiling as I put them back in their places. I never thought I’d see the day when my wife would let me have my way with her on the front lawn, but I was a lucky man. I couldn’t believe I’d almost thrown that all away.

  I meant what I’d said. Every word. Ainsley had saved me. She’d told me her whole truth—bared her soul to me. Her deepest darkest secrets. We knew everything about each other.

  Well, almost everything. But there were some things she could never know. Some things that were unforgivable. Too terrible to say out loud.

  I laid the half-empty bag of unused concrete in the corner, checked behind me to be sure the coast was clear, and bent down. I shoved the shelf down a half inch, running my fingers along the brick wall until I found the right one.

  I pushed in on the first loose brick, then stood and pressed one three squares up. I followed the pattern carefully and, when I pressed the last brick, the wall popped open just a hair. I stuck my fingers in the gap, opening the hidden door, and stepping inside the dark room. I pulled it closed behind me before flipping on the light.

  The room was practically a lair, something I’d meticulously designed when I’d created the blueprint for the house. Totally sound and weatherproofed, and thin enough that it fit easily along the side of the house without anyone—Ainsley included—ever suspecting it was there.

  I walked across the damp concrete, drying from the vigorous clean it’d had the night before. I made my way toward the freezer, noticing a smear of blood on the edge of the lid that I’d missed.

  I grabbed the spray bottle of bleach from the metal table next to the freezer and sprayed it down, using a paper towel to clean it thoroughly. Not that anyone would ever see it, but I liked to have a clean space. It was important to me. I opened the freezer, pulling out the pearl bracelet that sat at the bottom, waiting for me.

  I ran the pearls between my fingers as I walked to the far corner of the room. It was dimly lit, practically unnoticeable, but it held my most prized possession. I pulled out the built-in drawer from the wall, sized perfectly to fit the black duffel bag I’d gotten seventeen years ago. It had been six months since I’d seen it last, and my skin was practically itching to touch the nylon again.

  Only once, after the police told us what they’d found in Stefan De Luca’s truck, had I checked to make sure mine was still there. And it was. I had no idea how that cop got his hands on an identical bag or rope, but my bag was still safely in its place.

  Perhaps he was a copycat.

  He’d have all the case information from my crimes, after all. Never enough to catch me, of course. I’d always been too careful. I was an overthinker. I weighed every option, played out variations of each scenario before I acted. I’d never left DNA behind, never chosen similar women, didn’t kill every victim, and never followed a pattern or timeline. I let it happen when the mood struck, but I was prepared for anything.

  The only person who’d ever known who I truly was happened to be Seth. And I’d bought his silence the way he’d asked for it, by bending him over the edge of his bed. If Glennon hadn’t caught us that day, I was sure it would’ve had to continue. Not that I minded, I guessed. Seth was a good fuck. But I much preferred women.

  Then.

  I much preferred women then.

  I only preferred my wife now.

  I twisted the pearl bracelet around my fingers. I hadn’t taken Illiana De Luca’s underwear because I hadn’t raped her. I hated her too much for that. I hated that she got to come into my secret space.

  Throughout the years, I’d only brought the most special women down here—the ones I wanted to have a bit of extra fun with. There were fifteen in total that had died in this room. Fifteen beautiful bodies I’d buried in our woods. If Ainsley would’ve let me, Stefan would’ve joined them. But she’d fought it. She thought it was too risky, and I could never tell her why it wasn’t.

  It was only fitting that now, Illiana was buried with Stefan, concrete setting mere feet above their heads at that very moment. The only thing I wanted to do was end her life, and I had. But still, I wanted a token. Illiana’s bracelet was the perfect way to remember her. Touching it now, I remembered slipping it off her wrist as I tossed her body into the freezer, ending our problems once and for all. I’d waited until Ainsley had gone to bed that night, then moved her body from my trunk to the freezer without my wife ever suspecting a thing.

  She believed me when I’d said I went out for a drive to clear my head. And, I knew if the police were to ever ask, Mallory and Gina could account for my time half of the night. Truth was, I’d gone to see Mallory because I’d had an urge that night. I needed clarity, and I had the clearest mind when I was ending a life. If Gina hadn’t been there, it might’ve been Mallory’s underwear I was putting in my special bag. Oh, what fun that would’ve been.

  Instead, I’d gone after Illiana, which worked out better in the end anyway. Gina talked sense into me. She told me I needed to take matters into my own hands, and that was what I’d done. I’d solved our worries, made sure Illiana wasn’t a problem, and satisfied my urges all in one night. Thanks to me, Stefan would never hurt my wife. Thanks to me, Illiana would never bother us again. Thanks to my wife, this would be the last item I’d ever put into the bag.

  I was done.

  A changed man.

  Maybe. Probably.

  I reached for the zipper, unzipping the bag in a hurry, ready to tuck it back away before Ainsley came out to see what was taking so long. As I pulled it open, I froze.

  No.

  No.

  No. No. No. No.

  NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNO.

  My stomach twisted into a knot. The bag was nearly empty. No underwear. No rope. Only a single, white envelope with tape and her signature over the seal.

  She’d set the cop up.

  She’d known all along.

  I pulled the envelope out of the bag with shaking hands and tore it open, letting the note inside fall out. As I read it, I felt the vomit rising in my throat.

  Sorry, honey.

  Rules are rules.

  No more secrets.

  Enjoyed The Arrangement?

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  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, to my amazing husband and beautiful little girl, thank you for believing in me when this was all just a dream and for helping me to make it a reality. I love you both more than life.

  To my friend, Emerald O’Brien, thank you for being my biggest cheerleader, my sounding board, and the one with tough love when things just aren’t working. I’m so grateful for your friendship and support.

  To my immensely talented editor, Sarah West, thank you for seeing the story through the chaos. I’m forever grateful to have you on my team.

  To the proofreading team at My Brother’s Editor, thank you for your eagle eyes and ability to spot the most stubborn typos. I’m so
thankful to work with you!

  To my loyal readers—thank you for believing in me. Thank you for celebrating every release, for following me in whatever direction I decide to go, and for loving my stories as much as I do. I’m so honored to get to spend my life bringing you stories. Your support means the absolute world to me and I truly couldn’t do this without you.

  Last but certainly not least, to you—the person reading this book. Thank you for supporting art and for being a reader. I hope you’ve enjoyed this wild journey. Whether this was your first Kiersten Modglin novel or your twenty-second, I hope it was everything you hoped for and nothing like you expected.

  About the Author

  Kiersten Modglin is an Amazon Top 30 bestselling author of award-winning psychological suspense novels and a member of International Thriller Writers. Kiersten lives in Nashville, Tennessee with her husband, daughter, and their two Boston Terriers: Cedric and Georgie. She is best known for her unpredictable suspense and her readers have dubbed her 'The Queen of Twists.' A Netflix addict, Shonda Rhimes super-fan, psychology fanatic, and indoor enthusiast, Kiersten enjoys rainy days spent with her nose in a book.

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