Page 58 of The One Before

“There’s your answer. Take some time. Think about it. Then go home and decide whether to make this relationship work.”

Beth must have more faith in Coop than I do. She wouldn’t encourage me to go home to a potential murderer otherwise.

“The way Helena speaks about Laura and Coop… she seems so convinced. It’s so real to her.”

“Itisreal to her. She has no other outcome, so she copes with her daughter’s disappearance by finding someone else to blame. It doesn’t mean she’s right.”

“You possess this unique gift that keeps me from jumping off the ledge.” I smile. Beth is working her magic.

“That’s just the maternal wisdom starting to show.”

“No. It’s been there all along.”

“I can’t tell you what to do or who to believe. Listen to your heart. It knows Coop better than anyone.” She pauses, releasing a deep sigh. “I must say, I’ve never been more disappointed about missing the wedding. Sounds like Whisper Falls is full of shit starters.”

“You have no idea.”

By the end of our conversation, the anxiety in my chest lifts and my stomach grumbles. I order a sandwich, plus another drink. What I need to do is get back to a state of normal, physically and mentally.

I text Coop,I’m getting a hotel for the night. We’ll talk in the morning.

I google Yelp reviews for nearby hotels. A night apart will be good, for both of us. Plus, it provides a small taste of the independence I’ve been missing since moving to Whisper Falls.

I check into my room and spend the first hour re-reading the articles I bookmarked last night relating to Laura’s disappearance. The available information is a web of miscommunication. Leads with no end, problems with no resolution. At least four or five people at the music festival claimed to have seen a girl who looked just like her. A few people traveling along the highway said the same thing. Eyewitness testimony is the most unreliable kind. Like most missing people, Laura was forever seen but never found. Still, with every article I read, there’s nothing that would make me think Coop is to blame. He was never identified as either a love interest or a suspect, but, in my mind, I can still hear Helena’s voice insisting he’s a murderer.

I give up. I place my phone on Do Not Disturb mode, expecting to spend several hours mindlessly watching television. Instead, within minutes of crashing on the bed, I’m asleep.

Forty-Four

Helena

Still no word from Madison. It’s been a full day since we spoke. On a whim, I drive by their house. The winding roads are scarier at night; the darkness and woods surround my car as though I’m on the brink of being swallowed whole. I approach their driveway and spot Cooper’s car, but Madison’s is gone. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Maybe she left him. But then, why wouldn’t she call me? Why wouldn’t she reach out for help?

There’s nothing more unpredictable than the human heart. To me, Cooper Douglas is the vilest creature on this earth, the monster who stole my girl away. But to Madison, I remind myself, he’s something more. Madison doesn’t strike me as the type to hop into bed with the first man who dangles a ring in front of her face. She’s sacrificed for this relationship. Her feelings are developed and mature. A single conversation with me may not be enough to turn her. Yet.

Everything in this town closes by ten. Thankfully, I visited the liquor store earlier in the week. I have a bottle waiting for me in my motel room’s mini fridge. Drinking has been my crutch ever since Laura died. I know it’s not healthy or good for me. Booze does to my emotions what scratching does to a scar; it makes me feel better in the moment but negates any real healing.

I stopped drinking for several years. Before returning to Whisper, my life was nothing more than an intermission from one meeting to the next. Missing children support groups and Alcoholics Anonymous and grief counseling sessions. It helped for a while, but no community can guide me through this. That’s why I’m compelled to drink. It’s a way to come down from my mania.

Shady Lane Motel is an accurate name if I’ve ever heard one. My neighbors here are scoundrels, usually booking the room next door only for the night. I imagine most people here are on the run or in between vices. This revolting place has been my temporary home for weeks, and I don’t plan on leaving until I know Madison is safe.

Overgrown weeds cover the sidewalk leading to my room. There’s a water fountain in the courtyard just outside my door: a swan with an amputated wing, the aftermath of roughhousing between previous guests. The pool at the bottom is filled with cigarette butts and the stone needs a good pressure washing, but if I sit close enough to my window, I can hear the fountain’s tinkling through the walls.

I like to close my eyes and imagine I’m back home. My real home in South Carolina. Back then I was married, not to a particularly good man, but a partner nonetheless. My days were spent planning weddings and parties and celebrations. I was the type of person people trusted with control. And I had the most beautiful daughter. It feels like a lifetime ago, and it was. Never did I imagine my life could fracture the way it has.

We didn’t live far from the beach and would spend every spare moment visiting the water. I was amazed Laura wanted to leave our sunny shores behind to attend college in Tennessee, but I remember that age. You’re yearning to experience something different from what you’ve always known. I wanted that for her, too. For her to experience the world.

Now I wish I’d pushed back harder. I should have demanded she attend school closer to home instead of sending her so far away. Cooper would have never met her. And yet, she always seemed happy when we spoke. She shone during our visits. My girl was happy that last year of her life, and I try to cling to that.

The air conditioner kicks on, eliminating the sound of the water fountain and halting my happy memories mercilessly. I retrieve my bottle from the mini-fridge and pour a drink. After a few sips, I feel better. Calmer. I’ve missed Laura all these years. I’ll always miss her, but now I’m putting forth my last effort to bring her justice. Maybe I can bring justice for Celia, too. If more had been done to punish Cooper for her death, my Laura might still be alive. There must be some good in what I’m doing, otherwise I’ll have lost all reason to live.

I lean against the stiff mattress I’ve called my bed. When I leave this town—if I ever leave this town—I’ll need to scrape together enough money to visit a chiropractor. Just another sacrifice I’m willing to make in the name of catching Cooper.

For peace of mind, I pull out the nightstand drawer. Inside there’s a Bible, and beside that, my gun. I sleep better knowing it’s there. I sleep better knowing that if my appeals to Madison fail, at least I have some options left.

Forty-Five

Madison

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