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

by Miranda Smith

“I don’t know.” She cracks her knuckles and looks away. She’s aware something doesn’t add up. “What did the police say?”

  I hadn’t wanted to tell her this part; I know it won’t help my case, but I promised Madison the truth. All of it. “The police had this ridiculous theory she took off to some music festival and something happened to her there. But they didn’t know my Laura. All college kids are a tad rambunctious, but she would never leave the state without telling me. We were close.”

  She’d badgered me for weeks about that festival, but I’d refused to give her permission to go. Imagine my surprise when the police showed me a receipt of her ticket purchase. They believed that was proof she’d left town, that something had happened to her while she was gone. But I didn’t believe that. Laura would never leave without telling me.

  “So the police never found her?”

  “No.” I bite my lip and look away again. “She’s never been found. She’s one of the thousands of people who disappear off the face of this grand earth, never to be seen again. No one knows what officially happened, but I do. I know Cooper was involved.”

  “But how could you know that? This music festival—”

  “The music festival theory wasn’t taken seriously until after the Douglas family hired a lawyer to represent Cooper,” I cut in. I’m trying to keep her focused. I don’t want her to start doubting me. “All efforts to find Laura ended after that.”

  “It’s been, what, over ten years since anyone has heard from her?”

  “Eleven years and some odd months.” I know down to the day how long it’s been since I last saw my girl, but I don’t want her to think I’m obsessed. “She never would have cut off contact willingly. We were best friends.”

  “Why didn’t she tell you what she’d found out about Coop?”

  “We were best friends, but I’m still her mother. Girls at that age—at any age—don’t want to worry their parents unnecessarily. I believe she had every intention of telling me her problems, but Cooper didn’t give her the chance.”

  Madison shakes her head. “What could she have possibly uncovered that made him want to kill her?” Clearly she doesn’t like the idea of her fiancé being a murderer, but that’s exactly what he is.

  “I wondered that for a long time. I kept going over it and over it again in my mind. Just like I kept wondering why Cooper, her wonderful boyfriend, didn’t want to assist in discovering her whereabouts. Laura had been missing for two months when I hired a private investigator to examine her disappearance—and him. That’s when I found out about Celia Gray.”

  Madison leans deeper into the couch, pulling the pillow tighter to her legs. Finally, she’s making connections. She’s piecing together the same image of Cooper I made years ago. “You think she found out that Celia had died?”

  “It makes perfect sense. It explains why her enthusiasm about Cooper changed so suddenly. And it explains why she wouldn’t have wanted to tell me about it. She didn’t want me to worry.” I wish every moment of my life she’d told me what she learned that day. I wish she’d stayed on the phone with me instead of turning her attention to him. I could have talked her through her heartbreak. I could have protected her. I feel the familiar wave of grief and regret rising and swallow hard to keep it down.

  “Wouldn’t she have already known about that?” Madison jerks her head at me, like she wants to prove me wrong. “If they were as serious as you say, surely he would have brought up the fact his last girlfriend died.”

  “Did Cooper tell you that his college girlfriend went missing?”

  She hugs the pillow tighter and looks away. She whispers a defeated, “No.”

  That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear. That Cooper Douglas hasn’t changed his spots. He still has secrets, and if it makes me question his morals, surely Madison is thinking the same thing.

  “You can imagine my shock to find out not one, but two girls in Cooper’s past had died.” I clear my throat and steady my hands, which are starting to shake. “Laura’s body has never been found, but if she were alive, she would have contacted me by now. I know she’s gone.”

  Madison is nibbling at her nails from the anxiety. I’ve never seen her do that before. What I’m saying is working. She’s thinking. Really thinking about what I’ve said and what it means about the man she’s about to marry.

  Then the phone rings.

  Thirty-Eight

  Madison

  My cell phone’s happy chirping scares me. I jump, then look at its lighted screen on the coffee table. Helena hasn’t changed position, but she looks worried now. I lean forward and grab the phone.

  “Who is it?” she asks.

  “It’s Roman.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. I’m not sure what’s mine anymore. Everything Anne—Helena—just told me has my mind jumbled.

  “Madison, please listen to what I have to say,” Helena says, moving slightly in her seat. She knows it’s awfully late to be receiving a phone call.

  I hold up my finger to silence her before answering the call. “Hello.”

  “Madison, it’s Roman. You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Does he have a reason to think something is wrong? I clear my throat, hoping he won’t pick up on my nervousness.

  “I finally got Regina into the house. She can’t find her phone. You seen it at your place?”

  “Yes, I found it when I was cleaning.” I turn and look toward the bookcase, where I left it. “Does she need it?”

  “Nah, she’ll be out until morning. I don’t mind running by to get it, though.”

  Across the room, Helena is watching me intently. She must be wondering why he’s calling. She must be afraid I’ll tell him the person he wanted to protect me against is inside my house.

  “No need for that,” I say, turning away from Helena so she can no longer see my face. “I’m almost asleep as it is. She can stop by in the morning.”

  “Everything else okay with you?” There’s a protective edge in his words.

  I smile, hoping that will make the words flow easier. “Nothing going on here. Thanks for stopping by tonight.”

  “No problem. I’ll leave you alone.” He hangs up.

  Slowly, I lower the phone from my ear. I’m not sure if I made the best decision in telling Roman to stay put, but I want to continue my conversation. A week ago, this woman frightened me, but that’s back when I thought she was Anne, then Celia’s mother. Now I know she’s someone else entirely, and she’s reaching out on behalf of her daughter who I never knew existed. The person she’s convinced Coop killed.

  I place the phone back on the table. I look at Helena. She’s at ease again, knowing I ended the conversation with Roman. I’m not sure where to resume ours.

  “When do you expect Cooper to return?” she asks.

  “In the morning.”

  “That should give you enough time to pack some things.”

  “Pack things?”

  She scoots to the edge of her seat. “Madison, you don’t need to be here. It’s not safe.”

  The world as I knew it is unsafe now; if what Helena says is true, my whole life is nothing more than a fabrication. The person I was an hour ago seems so different from the person I am in this moment. I don’t know how to digest everything Helena’s told me. It doesn’t line up with the person Coop is. The person I love.

  “I’m not leaving Coop,” I say, firmly. “Not until I’ve had a chance to speak with him.”

  Helena stands, leaving her bag on the chair. She walks closer, but not in a threatening way. More like a mother who is afraid for her child. “You can’t confront him about this, Madison. I’ll never know for sure, but I believe that’s what got Laura killed. She asked him about Celia, and he lashed out.”

  I close my eyes. Looking at Helena is painful. Her grief is obvious, and I pity her. Still, in the back of my mind, I wonder if this woman is delusional. She might not be Celia’s mother, the woman the Douglas family has warned me about, but the same thr
eat exists. Her allegations come from a place of hurt.

  “I don’t understand. I’ve known about Celia Gray for a long time. Since before he proposed. He told me because he wanted me to know.” Although, an inner voice whispers, he was less forthcoming about the rumors connecting him to her death. I shake those thoughts away. “Why would he hurt Laura over information he so readily provided?”

  “I don’t know.” Helena returns to her seat and crosses her legs. She suddenly seems angry, as though she senses she’s losing this battle. “I never had the opportunity to ask.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened to your daughter. I can’t even imagine…” The appropriate words don’t exist. I can’t relate to this woman’s pain; perhaps it’s the endurance of that pain that has led her to target Coop in the first place. “You have to understand. The man I know… I can’t see him harming anyone. He’s kind and loving. I wouldn’t be marrying him otherwise.”

  “Laura said those same things. Then she was gone.”

  “But you have no proof Coop did anything.” I stand and pace the narrow tract of space in front of the fireplace. “All you’re able to tell me is that they dated, and that he didn’t act appropriately in the weeks following her disappearance. As if there is a proper way to act. He was twenty. Practically a child!” I’m rambling now. Helena has an advantage in that she’s had years to prepare for this conversation; I’m laboring to process everything I’ve been told.

  “The odds of anyone having two significant others die or disappear under suspicious circumstances is tremendous. You must see that.”

  “I see it. It’s concerning, but it doesn’t make me think the man I love is capable of murder. He told me everything about Celia. What guilty man would do that?”

  “He didn’t tell you about Laura.”

  That’s the detail that bothers me more than anything. Coop framed the incident with Celia as a tragedy he was wrapped into because of circumstance. More than that, he’d recounted all his previous relationships to me at one point or another. I recall him mentioning an ex-girlfriend named Laura, and yet he never told me she’d gone missing. The fact he didn’t tell me is unsettling.

  Still, what Helena is asking me to do is unthinkable. I can’t believe a stranger’s story over my fiancé’s—a stranger who has already spent weeks lying to me. As disturbing as this conversation has been, it’s not enough to make me abandon my faith in Coop. He deserves a chance to tell me what happened. And I’m craving the opportunity to ask.

  “Do you have a picture of her?”

  Helena rummages through her bag. She stands and joins me by the fireplace. She’s beaming now, with the pride of a grandmother sharing photos of her grandchildren. Of course, Helena will never have that opportunity. Her only daughter is gone.

  “She was so beautiful,” she says, handing over the picture. “You know, I really was an event consultant years ago. That’s why I thought it was a natural way to grow close to you. Laura was like an honorary flower girl at every event I hosted. The sweetest little thing.”

  My eyes fill with tears when I realize I’ve seen this girl before. I’ve seen this exact picture. That photo I’d found stuffed in the box of old newspapers was Laura. I’ve often wondered who she was, this girl who captured Coop’s heart in such a way he felt the need to carry her photograph. Now I know. She’s Laura.

  “You don’t need to stay here, Madison.” Helena recognizes my fragile emotions and is hoping she can make one last plea for me to leave.

  I hand back the picture. “She is very beautiful. I’m so very sorry.”

  “He’s dangerous,” she says, taking a step closer.

  “He’s my fiancé. I deserve the chance to find out if that’s true, and I can’t do it in the middle of the night.”

  Helena slumps back to her chair and rummages through her bag. She takes out a pen and scribbles something on the back of a receipt. She hands me the paper.

  “This is my new number. I’m staying in Whisper Falls.” She opens then shuts her mouth, surely wondering how much she can trust me. “Call if you need me. Please.”

  I take the paper, balling my hand into a fist. I follow her to the door, and she doesn’t say anything else before entering her car. There is nothing left to say. The only person I need to talk to now is Coop.

  Thirty-Nine

  Madison

  It’s near 2 a.m. The wave of sleepiness I felt before Helena’s visit has disappeared. Now I’m fully awake, my adrenaline making me desperate. How I wish Coop was here this instant! I want to attack him with questions, unleash my thoughts and fears. I need his deep voice to tell me that Helena Price is a sad, deranged individual. That this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding.

  In my gut, I know all that can’t be true. As with any story, bits and pieces have accuracy. I realize these hours I have with Coop out of the house are a gift. They give me time to think. They give me time to control myself and decide how I should move forward. Like Helena did with me in the weeks she posed as Anne, I must wait for the right moment. I need to think like a journalist, not his fiancée, and follow the facts.

  I thunder upstairs and do something I haven’t done since Coop first moved into my apartment, something I’d promised myself to never do again. I sling open our closet and start rummaging through every box, scanning every shelf and upturning every item. There must be something here. Some token from his past that can either validate or dismiss Helena’s story. Coop isn’t a hoarder, which makes it difficult. He doesn’t keep yearbooks and pictures. Everything’s digital now. The only sentimental items I find are in a box under his shoe rack, and they all relate to me: a ticket stub from the first baseball game we attended, his key to my old apartment and the empty box he used to store my engagement ring. That jewel twinkles from my finger but feels heavier now.

  I haven’t found anything related to the life he had before me. Unfortunately, he took his laptop with him to Nashville, so I have no chance of sorting through it. I know the position of every item in this house because I’m the one who unpacked. Now I’m losing my mind trying to find all these secrets some woman I barely know claims my fiancé is hiding. I want to collapse from the stress of it all.

  The only other place Coop might store belongings would be the garage. He had several boxes he left there, and I didn’t touch them. I storm outside and wait as the door opens, pulling on the dangling overhead light once inside. There’s not much here. Half of the boxes are mine, seasonal décor and clothing.

  Finally, I reach a stack of boxes I haven’t seen. The first box is filled with items from his old cubicle back in the city. I flip through his address book and desk calendar but find nothing of interest. The second box contains old copies of the Gazette, probably the same newspapers I found the last time I decided to go snooping. Unlike last time, there’s no pictures. That’s a good sign. Maybe in the process of moving he found that same picture and tossed it. Maybe Laura was some girl he went on a few dates with and he has no sentimentality toward her. Maybe Helena Price is a despairing person grasping for any excuse to make her daughter seem real again.

  The final box is a time capsule of his college years. There are a few textbooks, and several spiral-bound notebooks with illegible scribbles. I flip through the pages; there’s not enough time in the week to read each line. Something falls loose and lands face down on the cement floor. I bend down and turn it over. Laura Price’s face smiles back at me. I can’t breathe. I can’t cry. All I can do is look at this picture of Helena’s missing daughter. I flip to another page and find a second picture tucked into the crease. This one has Coop in it, too. His arms are wrapped around Laura as they stand in front of a brick wall.

  I hold the notebook, letting the pages dangle, and give it a good shake. Pictures fall to the floor, raining down around me. I grab the other notebooks and do the same. Tucked between every fifty pages or so is another picture of Laura. They float down to the ground until there’s two dozen photos of her—some with Coop, s
ome without—staring at me, asking for answers. Answers I can’t provide.

  Forty

  Helena

  I’ve done it. I’ve told Madison what she needs to hear, even if she’s not yet ready to act on the information. It’s easy for an outsider to look at her situation with contempt and cynicism. He’s a murderer! Get the hell out of there! I must admit, that’s been my reaction more than once. It’s what I wish Laura had done.

  However, I realize my urgency stems from knowledge I’ve carried for more than a decade. Madison knows Cooper in a way I never will. She’s not going to turn her back on the man she loves so suddenly, especially when I can’t give her much in the form of proof. My only hope is she won’t make the same mistake Laura did. I don’t want her to end up the same way.

  At least she’s considering what I told her. Madison’s a smart girl. Laura was smart too, but younger. If only she’d told me her concerns about Cooper without confronting him. But no, she was trying so hard to be mature. She attempted to tackle issues like an adult, never realizing adults enlist help all the time. Adults still turn to their mothers in times of crisis. Madison can’t do that. She doesn’t have a mother, but she has me. Even if she rejects my help, I’ll be here for her. I know what is best. Thank goodness I made the choice to get involved. Because now I’m no longer defending my daughter’s past, but Madison’s future, too.

  Forty-One

  June 16, 2006

  Celia was burning from the inside out. She’d never felt such rage, such desire to strike back. Worse, she’d never felt so embarrassed. It didn’t matter what barb she slung next, in this moment Regina Douglas was untouchable, and Celia wasn’t used to being the one who was touched.

  “I’m not sure what’s more ridiculous,” Celia said, after several awkward seconds. “Your accusation, or the fact you think Cooper would actually believe you.”