Page 61 of The One Before

“You have to understand. Back in Whisper, I was still considered a suspect in Celia’s death. All those people already thought I’d killed one girl; I couldn’t very well have a second girl turn up dead on my watch.”

“So, what happened?” I want him to quit talking almost as much as I want answers, but the latter prevails. I try to stabilize my breathing, counteract the nausea rising. “What did you do with her?”

He hesitates. “I drove home and left her in Whisper Lake.”

“Her body has been in the lake all this time? The same place Celia was found.” It’s all too coincidental. All too connected. New patterns are arising, dizzying my thoughts. “Wouldn’t she have turned up by now?”

“This has nothing to do with Celia! She drowned and it was an accident, and if people had believed that, none of this would have ever happened! I know this lake like the back of my hand. I made sure Laura wouldn’t be found.” He exhales shakily and looks away in shame. It’s difficult for him to say these words. I wonder if he’s ever said them aloud before. “I cleaned Laura’s apartment and tossed her personal items. I used her credit card to buy a ticket to that music festival she’d been wanting to attend. I thought that might help establish an alibi.”

“Do your siblings know about this? Your mother?”

“No. Regina was still in high school. And Mom… Mom would never look at me the same if she knew what I did, especially after she defended me when it came to Celia. I’ve carried this secret a long time.”

“What about your dad?”

“He never knew what happened either. No one in the family knew anything until Laura was reported missing. That’s why my parents hired their own private investigator to re-examine Celia’s case. They realized that any time something bad happened in my life, Celia’s death would be there coloring the way people viewed me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, placing my empty water glass on the table.

“I figured I’d rather tell you this one horrible truth than carry on a lifetime of lying.”

“You’ve been lying to me our entire relationship!” I scream. I stand but feel too weak to take a step. From the time I first met Coop, he’s been a murderer, and I never knew.

“When we met, I’d been hiding the truth about Laura for years. I forced myself not to think about her. To pretend she never existed. That’s the only way I was able to move on.”

“Move on from murdering someone?”

He takes a step closer. “I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, but I can’t undo it! If I hadn’t been so tortured with all those lies about Celia, I wouldn’t have lashed out the way I did. She would have never been angry with me.”

“You have dozens of pictures of her hidden away.”

He looks down. “Sometimes it’s nice to remember the good times. I pay respects, in my own way.”

“And you think telling me will clear your conscience?”

“I’ll never atone for what I did to Laura, but I try. I’ve been nothing but an upstanding individual. I help with charities and the community. I’m good to you.”

I shake my head and laugh. Our whole relationship has been a pit stop on some apology tour. “None of that changes the fact you killed a woman.”

“I know it doesn’t, but I’m more than the worst mistake I made. You know me better than anyone. Would you continue this conversation if you didn’t think I was a good person?”

“You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.” I begin crying. “But you did a horrible, horrible thing. Poor Helena still doesn’t know what happened to her daughter!”

“Will telling her the truth ease her pain? Knowing what happened won’t bring her daughter back.” He touches my arm. “I’m asking you to forgive me.”

“I… I don’t know what to do.” I walk to the front door. My head feels like it’s about to burst, and a wave of dizziness makes me stop.

“Maybe you should sit.”

I shrug him off. I try to sit on the sofa, but stumble and nearly miss. “Did you put something in my drink?”

“It’s just something to help you sleep. I didn’t want to worry about you running off again while you’re this emotional.”

“Oh my gosh, Coop. What are you doing?”

He lifts my legs and puts them on the couch. He takes the washrag and folds it over my forehead. I’m too weak to push it away. “You just need rest. I promise, you’ll feel better about things in the morning.” Coop sits in the armchair across from me, the shadows from the fire dancing across his face.

Forty-Seven

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