The Good Neighbors

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The Good Neighbors Page 1

by Kiersten Modglin




  Copyright © 2019 by Kiersten Modglin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  www.kierstenmodglinauthor.com

  Cover Design: Tadpole Designs

  Editing: Three Owls Editing

  Formatting: Tadpole Designs

  First Print Edition: 2019

  First Electronic Edition: 2019

  Praise for The Good Neighbors

  The twists and turns Modglin is known for will have you on the edge of your seat in this unputdownable story about neighbors and the secrets they keep.

  Rachel Renee, Author of The Savannah PD Series

  The Supreme Queen of Twists, Kiersten Modglin, has done it again!

  Mandy, Janise’s Jivin’ Book Blog

  The plot twists kept me on the edge of my seat, up until the early morning, flipping the pages. I needed answers, and when they were exposed, I was not left disappointed.

  Kate Blanchard, Author of Dear Anna

  Ms. Modglin adds a dramatic, eerie twist…

  J. Lynn Lombard, Author of The Racing Dirty Series

  [The Good Neighbors] is a true must read!

  AnnaMarie Gardner, Author of Young Fae

  …suspenseful and exciting and mind blowing!

  Tish, Cocktails and Fairytales Blog

  What a wonderfully woven web Modglin made, as has come to be her trademark style, and all becomes clear at the end. Addictive, unsettling, intriguing, shocking, and just as the book promises about the neighbors, there is much more to this well-written story than first meets the eye.

  Emerald O’Brien, Author of The Knox and Sheppard Mysteries

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Enjoyed The Good Neighbors?

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Kiersten Modglin

  To my dad—

  For always being on my side, making me laugh no matter how mad I am, and teaching me that the best neighbor is no neighbor at all.

  We all have neighbors. Greet them on the sidewalk or in the elevator, but try not to peer through their windows. Windows are to look out from, not into.

  Alexandra Stoddard

  One

  Harper

  Harper sank down in the back of the U-Haul, wiping the sweat from her brow with a heavy sigh.

  “That’s it,” she told her husband as he walked out onto their new front porch. “That’s the last of it.”

  He nodded, hopping down from the porch and bounding up the metal ramp of the truck at breakneck speed. “Whatsa matter, wimp?” he teased, elbowing her.

  She took a deep breath, rolling her eyes at him. “Dude, I am not used to this humidity. How are you not dying?”

  He laughed. “You do know I’m from Florida, right?”

  “You haven’t lived there in years.”

  “Still. You don’t forget heat like this. Southern heat is all the same,” he said simply. “Here, let’s get you inside, and we’ll cool off.” He stood, lifting and carrying his wife like a doll. Their skin stuck together from the heat, but she couldn’t help tossing her head back with a loud laugh. He stopped as they hit the ramp to exit the truck, staring off into the distance.

  “What’s wrong?” Harper asked, looking his way before following his gaze to the house next door. The two-story white house stood a few feet from theirs, perfect black shutters and a white picket fence making it picturesque. It could have come from a magazine. In fact, she realized the longer she stared, so could the couple standing on its porch.

  Tall and lean, even from a distance their beauty was breathtaking. The woman, perhaps a few years older than Harper and Bryant, had stick straight, platinum blonde hair and a perfect figure. Her white suit was neatly pressed, and if she hadn’t just walked out onto the porch, Harper would’ve thought she was a mannequin. Her shoulders were perfectly squared, her posture enviable. She was perfect. As was the man standing next to her—his raven black hair sat thick atop his head, his high cheekbones and muscled body making him an exquisite companion to the woman whose arm was wrapped through his.

  Snapping out of her stupor, Harper stuck her hand over her head, waving wildly. “Hello,” she called, feeling idiotic when they remained still.

  As her hand slid back down, she looked over to her husband, who seemed equally in awe of their model-like neighbors. When she looked back, the woman had leaned her head over toward the man’s ear, whispering something to him.

  Their stony expressions did not change as they turned around, not waving or even offering a smile to their new neighbors, and headed back into their house.

  “Jeez, tough crowd,” Bryant whispered, setting her down and closing the door to the U-Haul.

  “That was weird, right?”

  “Very weird,” he agreed.

  “I thought people in the South were supposed to be nicer,” she said softly.

  “Nah, they just put that on the brochures,” he teased, scooping her back up again and darting for the house. She let out another loud laugh, kissing him quickly and forgetting, at least for the moment, about their strange welcome.

  Two

  Harper

  “Have you seen my gray pajama pants?” Harper yelled through the house, trying to make sure he could hear her over the running water in the kitchen.

  The water shut off, and she heard his footsteps coming toward her. “I think they were in one of the boxes in the spare bedroom.”

  She nodded, zigzagging in between boxes on her way toward the spare room. It had been three days since they’d moved in, and still everything in the house was chaotic. Harper didn’t like disorder. If it were up to her, they would’ve stayed up all night getting everything unpacked and put away. Only then would she feel at peace.

  Bryant was the opposite. He could live out of boxes for weeks. He’d proven that fact when he’d moved in w
ith her their senior year of college. It had taken him forever to finally get his stuff unpacked. In fact, once he had, it had only been a few months before they had to repack to move out of that compact apartment and into their home in the city.

  Then, a few months after their wedding, he’d gotten a job offer in Lancaster Mills, and they’d headed south to settle down. Harper could be happy here. She really could. If only they could get these damn boxes unpacked before they had gray hair.

  Interrupting her thoughts, the doorbell rang, and she sprinted back into the living room just as Bryant was opening the door. She stopped short when she saw who was waiting. The couple from next door…Mr. and Mrs. Model.

  “Um, hello,” Bryant said, his smile much too wide for Harper’s taste. She couldn’t be mad at him, though, as she felt her own smile lighting up as the woman met her eyes.

  Up close, they were even more beautiful than she’d imagined. Gorgeous, porcelain skin and smooth, unwavering hair even in the humid North Carolina summer. The woman smiled at her, her teeth so white it had to be unnatural, but behind full, red lips they seemed to fit perfectly. There was that word again. Perfect. It was the only word Harper could summon to describe the couple.

  “Hey,” the woman said with a soft tone, her words like butter. “I’m Tori. This is my husband, Jason.” She smiled again, holding out a hand which Bryant quickly took. “We’re your new neighbors.”

  Jason held out his hand to Harper, shaking it quickly. “I’m Harper,” she said. “And this is my husband, Bryant.”

  Bryant stepped back, holding out his arm. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Oh, we’d hate to impose,” the woman said, though she continued to wait for a further invitation.

  “It’s no trouble,” Harper assured her.

  “Just excuse our mess,” Bryant said, shutting the heavy wooden door behind them after they entered.

  Harper forced herself not to roll her eyes. Our mess. The one he’d refused to help with an hour ago.

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” Jason said, his voice deeper, fuller than she’d imagined. “Our house looks like this all the time.”

  “Well, it did,” Tori corrected him, “until we got a housekeeper. She’s great, really. I can give you her number.”

  Harper nodded. “Thank you. We might take you up on that once we get unpacked. A house this big, I’m not sure what we’re going to do with it.”

  “It really is lovely,” Tori said, admiring the space that Harper was, in fact, proud of. It was the nicest place they’d ever owned, and even though there were updates they planned to do, for now, it was pretty great.

  “We’ve never had anything this nice. We’re used to apartments, so this place is practically a castle. Of course, it’s nothing compared to your house.”

  “Yes, well, we have a bit too much space if you ask me,” Tori said, smirking slightly. “You two are from the city, right? Up north?”

  “Chicago,” Bryant answered.

  “Really?” Tori patted her husband’s shoulder. “Jason does work there all the time.”

  “You do?” Harper gasped, happy to hear about home in any way.

  “I mean, I wouldn’t say all the time,” he told her, “but a fair bit, yeah.”

  “Really?” Bryant asked. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a writer. Mostly freelance sports stuff, but I do whatever they pay me for.”

  “Woah, that’s really incredible.”

  “Yeah, well, living the dream, right?” he said with a small laugh. “Paid to travel, amazing job, gorgeous wife.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “What about you guys? What do you do?”

  “Oh, um, I’m a history teacher,” Bryant said. “I just got a job at the high school here. Living the dream too, right?” He pulled Harper to his side, and she couldn’t help but tense up. What was it about this couple that made her so on edge?

  “And you?” Jason asked, looking at her now, his intense gaze causing her to blush.

  “I’m, um, I…well, I work at the hospital.”

  “You do?” Tori spoke up, staring at her intently. “I guess we’ll be seeing each other around, then. I’m a plastic surgeon.” Of course. “What do you do?”

  “Reception,” Harper answered, her voice squeaking slightly. She had no reason to feel ashamed of her job. She’d gone to college and gotten her degree in healthcare administration. Now it was just a matter of working her way up. She couldn’t help it that her husband’s first job offer came from a podunk town that’s closest hospital was over a half-hour from their new home.

  “Oh, well that’s okay,” Tori said, her tone patronizing as if she were talking to a child.

  “I know it is,” Harper said with a stiff nod.

  “Well, anyway,” Jason spoke up, easing the tension. “We wanted to say welcome to the neighborhood. We felt silly coming over without any wine or baked goods or something…so we wanted to see if you two would like to join us for dinner tomorrow night? Our place.”

  “Oh, I don’t—” Harper started to object.

  “We won’t take no for an answer,” Jason told her, a small smile on his lips.

  She sighed, her body coursing with adrenaline, and she forced herself to look away. “Okay, sure.”

  “Really?” Tori clapped her hands together in front of her chest. “Oh, great. What do you like? We can do anything. We’ll be ordering out, of course. These hands,” she held up her perfectly manicured hands, “may be able to do a perfect skin graft, but they can burn water, I swear.” She laughed, flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.

  “Oh, we aren’t picky. Tacos, pizza, whatever,” Bryant said.

  Tori’s mouth twisted. “Oh, okay. Sure…we can do…tacos or pizza.” She looked at Jason as if they’d suggested they eat buckets of lard for dinner.

  “We aren’t picky, like he said. Just…surprise us with whatever you like,” Harper offered.

  She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Beautiful. We’ll do that. Come on over around seven, okay?” Tori asked, but without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him toward the door. “We’ll be going. Sorry to have bothered you all. We’re looking forward to tomorrow.”

  “Us too,” Bryant said. “I’m really glad you guys came over. We thought you must’ve hated us after the other day.”

  Harper furrowed her brow at her husband, closing her eyes to hide the fact that they were rolling. Tori and Jason stopped in their tracks, the room seeming to chill over as they turned around. “The other day?” Tori asked, her voice an octave higher.

  “Yeah,” Bryant said, oblivious to any awkwardness. “When we moved in. We waved at you, but you didn’t seem too happy to see us move in. We thought you guys must’ve been total assholes.” He slapped Jason’s shoulder, letting out a laugh.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tori said firmly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

  Bryant moved his hand back from Jason’s shoulder, staring at them. Finally, the gravity of the situation had sunk in, and he seemed to realize what he’d done. “You know what, with the distance between us…we probably couldn’t even see your face that well. You were probably not looking our way.”

  Jason nodded, a forced smile on his face. “That must be it.”

  “If we’d seen you, of course we would’ve come and said hello. What kind of neighbors would we be if we didn’t?” Tori asked, a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry if there was any confusion.”

  Bryant nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Of course. Sorry about that.”

  “Right. Well, no bother. We’ll see you tomorrow?” Tori asked, opening the door.

  “See you tomorrow,” Harper told her, watching as her husband shut the door behind them and letting out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  What the hell just happened?

  Three

  Harper

  The next night, the couple paced the house just before seve
n. “Why did we agree to this again?”

  “Relax,” Bryant said, grasping her shoulders and moving a piece of hair from her eyes. “Everything’s going to be fine. Besides, it’ll be nice to make a few friends here. Get to know some other people. Why are you so worried?”

  “Because, Bryant, we’re not couple-friend people. And even if we were, they’re just…strange, don’t you think?”

  “It was weird last night, right?” he confirmed, and she let out a breath, glad it wasn’t just her that noticed.

  “I mean, yeah. Super weird.”

  He let go of her shoulders, looking away. “Okay, well, it’s already nearly time to be there. We can’t flake out now. So, let’s go and get it over with, and then from now on we’ll avoid going there until they get the hint. I don’t want to make them think we don’t like them. That would make it even worse, and they’re going to be our neighbors for the foreseeable future. We don’t want to make things more awkward.”

 

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