In this tense, twisty domestic suspense novel from New York Times bestselling author Alexandra Ivy, a woman returns to her sleepy hometown after her father’s disappearance and uncovers a dark web of family secrets that leaves her questioning everything. . .
Leaving Canton, Missouri, behind was no hardship for Jesse Hudson. When she was a teenager, her stepmother and stepsister abruptly disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Their bodies were never found, but Jesse’s father, Mac, became a murder suspect. When he too vanished, Jesse waited months for him to return. Finally, she left, bouncing from one bartending job to another for years.
Now Jesse is back, hoping to quickly sell her father’s old bar before moving on for good. But coming home to Canton’s quiet, cobblestone streets doesn’t go quite as expected. There are memories resurfacing, and ties that haven’t broken. Then her father’s lawyer makes a startling admission: before he disappeared, Mac had discovered that Jesse’s stepmother, Victoria, was living under an assumed name. “Victoria Hudson” never even existed. Who was she really?
Delving deeper, Jesse grows convinced that her father’s assumed death is tied to Victoria’s real identity. And looking to the past is yielding more than secrets. Someone has been waiting for this homecoming, for a chance to unleash revenge for sins real and imagined. And they’ll make sure that Jesse never leaves town again . . .
Release date:
October 28, 2025
Publisher:
Kensington Books
Print pages:
304
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Bam. The smash of the gavel added an exclamation at the end of the judge’s statement.
And that was that.
The nine-month nightmare ended with one resounding thud.
On cue, the avid spectators surged to their feet, their cheers, protests, and gasps of disbelief creating an incoherent babble. Jesse Hudson blocked out the sound as she pushed her way through the crowd that had gathered in tight knots to discuss the abrupt conclusion to the scandal that had rocked Canton, Missouri, a sleepy little college town on the banks of the Mississippi River.
Her neighbors might be packed in the old courthouse, with its layers of dark wood paneling and rows of uncomfortable benches, to enjoy the spectacle of Mac Hudson being charged with the murder of his wife, Victoria Ralston Hudson, and stepdaughter, Tegan Ralston, but for Jesse it had been a matter of life or death. Literally.
“Dad.” Leaning across the wooden barrier, she tapped her father on the back of his shoulder to gain his attention.
Mac Hudson slowly turned, and Jesse struggled to hide a dismay. Her dad had always been a large man with a barrel chest and a laugh that could fill the room. He’d never been handsome. His features were too blunt and his jowls too heavy, but there’d been an engaging charm in his ready smile. That charm was one of many reasons that his bar—the Tap Room—had been such a success over the years.
Now he looked worn. Not just because he’d lost weight. Or because his blond hair had receded from his forehead. The months since his second wife and stepdaughter had mysteriously disappeared had drained his very soul, sucking away the joy that once twinkled in his eyes.
“I told you.” Her words came out in a fierce burst. “I knew this stupid farce would never go to trial.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad one of us was so certain.”
“There was never a doubt. Never.”
Mac released a shaky sigh. “What would I do without you?”
“Starve, for one thing. Lucky for you, I have a pot of your favorite chili in the Crock-Pot and a skillet of corn bread waiting to go into the oven.”
Her dad groaned. “Oh God, after three months of jail food that sounds like heaven.”
Jesse stepped back. “Then let’s go.”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
Jesse’s heart stopped, instantly assuming the worst. Who could blame her? There’d been one horrible shock after another.
“Why not? Is something wrong?”
“Not wrong, but annoying. My lawyer warned me that there would be a pile of paperwork I would need to read and sign if they let me go today. I assume it’s his way of earning his outrageous fee.” His gaze drifted to the gathered crowd, a shudder racing through his body that was wrapped in a suit two sizes too large. “Besides, I’d rather wait for the gawkers to drift away before showing my face in public again.”
Jesse glanced over her shoulder. The windows of the courtroom were large and arched, but the glass was frosted to mute the late-afternoon sunlight, leaving the dozen or so stragglers in gray shadows. Like black-and-white silhouettes.
One form remained apart from the others, openly glaring in their direction. The short, heavyset man wearing a deputy’s uniform stood with his hands planted on his hips, close enough to the handgun holstered at his side to be an unspoken warning.
Adam Tillman was only five years older than Jesse, who’d turned nineteen a month ago, but he looked at least twice her age. His round, pudgy face was twisted into a jaded expression, as if he harbored a general dislike for the world. Plus, there was something sinister about his squinty eyes.
Okay, Jesse might be a tad prejudiced against the deputy. He was the one who’d spent the past months digging up evidence against her father, even though she’d sworn under oath he’d never left the bar that night.
She didn’t know if he’d held a personal grudge against Mac Hudson, or if he’d somehow sensed that Jesse wasn’t being entirely honest. Whatever the case, he was a total jerk.
She turned back to meet her dad’s weary gaze. “Who cares about them?”
“I do.” He reached out to tug the end of her silvery-blond ponytail. “And if you’re honest, so do you.”
“Nothing matters but having you home where you belong,” she insisted.
He shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that. Not anymore.”
“Not sure about what?”
“Home being where I belong.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Maybe it’s time for a change.” His voice was suddenly strained. “A new start.”
“Dad? Are you okay?”
His jaw clenched before he gave a sharp shake of his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just relieved this is over.”
“Really and truly over,” she said, as much to reassure herself as her father.
“Go home, Jesse.” Leaning forward, Mac brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “I’ll see you soon.”
She nodded, trying to ignore the darkness in his eyes. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”
But it wasn’t.
Not ever again.
August 2025
Chicago, IL
The nightclub reeked of stale cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. Jesse wrinkled her nose as she strolled past the long bar that was reflected in the smoky, mirrored wall behind it. On the other side of the space was a small, sunken dance floor framed by low booths with peeling plastic seats. The walls were hidden behind the crimson wallpaper that was faded to a dull orange. And above the dance floor was a glass booth for the DJ.
The place had been shuttered for months, but it wasn’t just neglect that caused the crumbling dust and sagging decay.
Everything about it was fake.
From the vinyl tiles on the floor, to the drop ceiling that was stained from leaks in the roof, to the metal finishings that had been coated with gold spray paint. It was all a sham. Worse, Jesse suspected it was indication that the entire building was dodgy. The electricity, the plumbing, not to mention the actual structure.
“Well?”
The low male voice brushed over her as smooth as velvet. With a tiny shiver, Jesse turned to glance at her companion. It’d been six months since Parker Moreau had taken a job at the club in downtown Chicago where she was currently employed as a bartender.
He’d been a perfect fit for the hipster vibe of the place, with the halo of brown curls that framed his heart-shaped face and tall, slender body. Add in the intense sexuality that smoldered in his mesmerizing black eyes and he’d been a customer favorite within the first week.
Jesse was the opposite of a hipster. Her blond hair was chopped into a short, pixie style when she’d left home years ago, and several tattoos had been added to her slender body as she’d moved from one city to another. The only things that remained of the naïve girl who’d fled her nightmares were the large, hazel eyes and the silver pickup truck that had once belonged to her dad.
Thankfully, her skill as a bartender meant she could get a job at the clubs that were willing to pay a decent wage, along with customers who were generous with their tips.
And even more thankfully, Parker had ignored the hundreds of women who’d done their best to capture his attention. For whatever reason, he’d focused solely on Jesse, as if he’d been as gutted as she’d been at their first meeting. Jesse had never believed in instalove. Sure, she’d been in lust at first glance, but love? Nah. Not until Parker.
One month after he’d arrived in Chicago, Parker had moved into her cramped trailer, which she’d parked at a campground an hour north of the city. Now they were preparing to take the next step in their relationship.
A huge, terrifying step.
Jesse swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “It’s rough.”
“A work in progress,” he corrected.
She glanced at the ceiling that was sagging beneath the weight of the disco lights.
“More work than progress.” She forced a smile as the expression of anticipation on his beautiful face started to dim. “Just like us.”
“Which are we? The work or the progress?”
She stepped forward, placing her palms flat on Parker’s chest. She could feel the damp perspiration beneath his silk shirt. It was smothering in the building without air-conditioning. Chicago was currently baking in the late August heat, adding layers of humidity to the high temperature.
“Both,” she murmured.
Parker bit his lower lip. It was sexy as hell. “You’re not as excited as I’d hoped you would be.”
“I’m excited. It’s just that I’m trying to be practical.” She slid her hands over his chest in a soothing gesture. “One of us has to be.”
“I thought this was our dream?” Parker wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against his body, which was surprisingly hard. Beneath his expensive clothes, he was all toned sinew and muscle. A benefit of his morning runs, which could last a solid three hours. Jesse thought he was crazy to put in so much effort, but then again, she thoroughly appreciated the results. “How many nights have we bitched that we’re wasted slaving away for employers who don’t have a fraction of our vision or talent?”
“It’s what employees do. We go to work and bitch about working.”
“Maybe, but why be minimum wage drones making our bosses rich when that money could be in our pockets?”
He wasn’t wrong. She was increasingly tired of working for other people. But that didn’t mean she wanted to blindly leap into the abyss. Especially an abyss that smelled like sweaty armpits.
“And if it fails?”
“It won’t.”
“But if it does?”
“Then we pick ourselves up and start over.” He brushed his lips over her mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first time. For either of us.”
She shivered in pleasure. “That’s true.”
Lifting his head, he studied her with a brooding expression. “What’s really bothering you, Jesse?”
She glanced around the room with its tacky décor and abruptly realized exactly why she was reluctant to take the plunge. This place was a sleazy shadow of the business her grandfather and father had built. The Tap Room had never been fancy, but it was solid and cozy, with a welcoming atmosphere to everyone who walked through the front door. It was genuine quality, from top to bottom.
“If our dream is to renovate an old bar and run it together, then I already own one.” The words came out in a strange croak. She hadn’t considered reopening the Tap Room. Not until this moment. “There’s no need to buy anything else.”
Parker’s brows snapped together. Was he was annoyed by her suggestion? “But then it would be your bar and I would always be an intruder.”
“You’d never be—”
“Don’t, Jesse. In your heart, the Tap Room belongs to your family.” He tugged her closer. “You told me a dozen times how your great-great-grandfather cut the lumber that was used to construct the original mercantile shop. And how your great-grandfather changed the store into a bar after he came home at the end of World War II. And how your father asked your mother to marry him by inviting the entire town to the bar to sing her favorite karaoke song when she said yes.”
An unexpected longing tugged at her heart. “Is that so bad?”
“No, but eventually you would resent any change I might want to make.” He gazed down at her upturned face. “Plus, do you really want to go back to the place you’ve spent so many years running from?”
She stepped back. She didn’t know why she was annoyed. He was right. She didn’t want to think about changes to the family bar. Even if they came from the man she loved. And she certainly didn’t want to move back to Canton. But he’d been urging her to cut ties with her past for weeks. As if it was as easy as handing a real estate agent the keys to the Tap Room and walking away.
“You’re asking me to go back anyway.”
“Only for a few days.” He ignored her petulant tone, gently wrapping her back in his arms. “Just long enough to get the paperwork started on your inheritance and to put the bar up for sale. Then we can start a new life with a clean slate.” He flashed the sexy smile that made her tingle in all the right places. “With a business we can build together. For our future.”
With a sigh, Jesse leaned into him, laying her head on his chest. “I like the sound of a future together.”
He stiffened, easily sensing her hesitation. “But?”
“But it’s hard to think about selling my dad’s bar. It’s my family legacy.”
“You’d rather it sit empty until it rots into oblivion?”
“Of course not.”
“Then it’s going to have to be taken care of eventually.” He hooked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his steady gaze. “Unless you think your father is coming back?”
Nine years of practice kept her from releasing the howl of agony that she kept trapped in the center of her being.
“No.”
“Think of what your father would have wanted, Jesse. You owe it to him to make sure his beloved bar is open to the customers who enjoyed spending time there, not boarded up and abandoned.”
Jesse flinched. It felt like a low blow. “And of course it’s exactly what you want as well.”
He sighed, as if trying not to be offended by her less than subtle accusation. “What I want is a chance to create something special. With you. And that’s going to take more money than we can save no matter how many hours we work.” His fingers traced the stubborn line of her jaw. “Is that wrong?”
Jesse had never thought she’d be one of those women who’d do anything for love. Men were a dime a dozen. But then Parker had walked into her life.
Now she was convinced she’d lie, cheat, and steal to keep this man.
Or even go back to the one place she’d avoided like the plague.
“No, it’s not wrong,” she assured him, laying her head back on his chest. “It’s what I want too.”
“You’re sure?”
No. Not at all.
“Very sure.” She forced out the words. “I’ll go home.”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Do it quickly and come back to me. I don’t want you gone a second longer than necessary.”
She snuggled against him as a sudden chill raced over her. She didn’t want to go back to Canton.
“You could come, you know.”
He considered her offer before shaking his head. “Tempting, but I think I should stay here and start negotiations on this place.” He glanced around the empty nightclub. “We don’t want to risk having it snatched away.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be a horde of snatchers.” The words were out before she could halt them. It wasn’t that she was opposed to starting a future with Parker. She just wasn’t convinced this was the place to do it. “And please don’t make any commitments until we know that the paperwork on the life insurance policy has been approved.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Red tape is always a pain in the ass. And sometimes it can take forever.”
“Don’t worry. I promise not to spend any money until I have your full approval.”
There was an edge in his voice. She tilted back her head to study his delicate features. Was he angry? There was nothing to see, but fear bloomed in the center of her heart.
She’d lost everything. She couldn’t lose Parker.
“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” she urged.
“One of us needs to keep bringing in a paycheck. We’re going to need every penny we can get our hands on.”
She grimaced. “I suppose that’s true.”
He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Let’s go back to our place so we can have a proper goodbye.”
A heat that had nothing to do with the sultry weather flowed through her like melted honey.
“What’s a proper goodbye?”
“It starts with less clothes and ends with …” His lips pressed against her ear as he whispered exactly what he intended to do with her once she was naked.
Jesse growled in anticipation. “You had me at ‘less clothes.’”
June 2016
Canton, MO
Leaving the courthouse, Jesse returned to the apartment she shared with her father above the Tap Room. She didn’t worry when the first hour passed. Her dad had said that he had paperwork to sign. And he no doubt had to collect his belongings from the jail, where he’d been held since his arrest almost three months before.
It was no lie when they claimed the wheels of justice ground slowly. Sometimes if felt as if they were stuck in place.
But as the second hour passed, and then the third, Jesse’s patience snapped.
There were a dozen reasons he was late. There could be a snag in the paperwork. Or he might have run into a crowd of friends who insisted on congratulating him on his release. God knew he was outrageously popular around town. Everyone knew and liked Mac Hudson. Or he might have stopped by the cemetery to visit the grave of Jesse’s mom. He claimed he always felt better after sharing his problems with the true love of his life. Even if she couldn’t give him the answers he needed.
By the fourth hour, Jesse couldn’t pretend that everything was fine.
Her father could be absent-minded, but he wasn’t cruel. He knew that she was anxiously waiting for him to come home. He would call if he was going to be this late.
Leaving the bar, she returned to the courthouse, circling each block in case her father was taking a different route. Not that the sleepy college town with tree-lined, cobblestoned streets was large enough for him to stray too far away.
Most of the businesses, including the Tap Room, were built to overlook the mighty Mississippi River. The dozen or so stores and restaurants along Main Street catered mainly to the local citizens, although a few students occasionally ventured down from the college that was sprawled on the high bluff above town.
Ice inched down Jesse’s spine as she stopped her hunt to glance toward the dome that gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. It was the only thing visible of the college, looming over the town with a lofty arrogance.
The rigid separation between town and gown was alive and well in Canton, Missouri.
A lesson that her stepmother had learned too late.
With a shake of her head, Jesse turned toward the center of town, where a pale stone building with a red-tiled roof consumed the bulk of the public square. The courthouse had faded over the past hundred years, but it had the solid bulk of a structure that was going to be around another century.
Climbing the worn cement stairs, Jesse entered the building through the front door. The lobby was eerily empty. Not surprising, she told herself. It was past five o’clock and most of the offices were closed. But that didn’t keep her heart from sinking.
A part of her was convinced her father would be sitting in one of the leather chairs, patiently waiting for the judge to finish the paperwork, or surrounded by friends. To accept he wasn’t there felt like a physical blow.
“Are you here to gloat?”
Jesse cursed at the sound of the harsh voice. Of course she’d run into the one person she’d hoped to avoid when she came back to the courthouse. Slowly turning, she faced Deputy Adam Tillman.
“Excuse me?”
The pudgy face was hard with anger. “It’s your fault a murderer is out there wandering around town instead of behind bars where he belongs.”
She took a deliberate backward step. The deputy’s habit of invading her personal space went beyond annoying to downright creepy.
“If you’re referring to my father, he’s free to wander around town because he’s innocent.” She forced a smile to her stiff lips. “And because your star witness admitted he was too far away and it was too dark for him to see any details of the crash. You know, the one that magically appeared after remaining silent for months, and only decided to testify that he’d seen my dad’s truck after you’d charged him with a DUI?”
Adam’s face flushed. “Who else would run her off the road? You were the one who testified that your father had argued with his wife. And that you watched your stepmother pack a bag and take off with her daughter in the middle of the night.”
“Exactly. She packed up and left. Why would he kill her?”
“Because he didn’t want her to go. Some men are like that.” His squinty gaze took a slow survey of her slender body. “They think a woman is their property and she should stay in her place.”
Jesse resisted the urge to shudder. She wasn’t going to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin.
“Not my dad.”
“So you say.”
“Yes, so I say. Along with the judge.”
Adam sucked air between the gap in his front teeth, the whistling sound grating on Jesse’s raw nerves.
Despite the difference in their age, they’d gone to school together. He was the sort of kid who tattled on his classmates, cheated on tests, and tried to peek into the girls’ locker room. As far as she knew, no one liked him. Not even the teachers.
“Just as you say that you could swear on a Bible your father never left the bar,” he mocked.
Jesse shrugged. “Exactly.”
“As if you wouldn’t lie your ass off to protect him.”
She would. And she had. Not only about what had happened that night, but the reason for it. Just as she would continue to lie until her last dying breath.
“Unlike you, I had no need to manipulate evidence.” She reminded the jerk of his attempt to coerce a witness. “My father’s innocent, and the case against him was dismissed.”
“That doesn’t mean this is over. I’m gonna get him. One way or another.”
Pasting a fake smile on her lips, Jesse strolled past the deputy, her skin crawling as she felt Adam’s glare boring into the center of her back. The deputy was an idiot, but he currently held a position of power. One that came with a weapon and the license to use it.
Only a fool would push him too far.
Heading toward the back of the building where she assumed the judge had his office, Jesse was silently rehashing the unpleasant conversation when her musings were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
“Excuse me.”
Jesse halted, turning around to discover an older woman in a polyester suit and pearls heading toward her with a click of her low heels. Her silver hair was perfectly curled and sprayed into place like a helmet and her thin face was lined with wrinkles. Jesse had a vague memory of seeing the woman around Canton; what was her name? Rosemary. Yes, Rosemary Something-or-other. “We’re about to lock the building for the evening,” Rosemary informed her. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow if you need something.”
Something that felt like panic flared through Jesse at the thought of the courthouse being locked up for the night. What if her dad was still inside? Maybe he’d passed out. Or had a heart attack from the stress. Or …
Jesse grimly shut down her spiraling fear. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why her father was missing.
There had to be.
“I’m looking for Mac Hudson.” The words came out steady. Good for her. “He had a pretrial hearing in the courtroom earlier today and—”
“I know Mac,” the woman interrupted Jesse’s babbling. “He left a couple of hours ago.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw him myself.” She pointed toward a nearby hallway. “He went out the side door to the parking lot.”
Jesse glanced in the direction the woman indicated as if she expected her father to suddenly appear. It made sense for him to choose to leave by a different exit. There might have been reporters lurking around the front of the building. But what had he been doing for the past couple of hours?
“Was he alone?” she at last demanded.
The pencil-thin brows arched, as if confused by Jesse’s questions. “His lawyer walked him to the door, but he went outside alone. Is there a problem?”
“No. No problem.”
Jesse clenched her hands and scurried in the direction her father had left.
Where the hell was he?
Returning to the bar, Jesse paced through the public room. It was a long, rectangular space with a hand-carved bar on one side and a dozen round tables in the center of the floor. The ceiling was low and covered with copper tiles that had been salvaged from the original mercantile store, along with the wooden floorboards and red brick walls. At the back of the bar there was just enough space for a dartboard and two pool tables.
Usually by this hour, the place was buzzing with neon lights and country music and the background noise of clinking glasses as her father efficiently served the customers who poured through the doors as soon as their workday ended. The Tap Room was the goto establishment in Canton for eighty years, and despite the ugly rumors swirling through town, the business had continued to thrive. Jesse wanted to believe that the locals trusted Mac Hudson. Even after his wife and stepdaughter disappeared in the early hours one morning only to have her fancy sports car end up crashed into a tree with splatters of blood on the driver’s side seat and no sign of Victoria or Tegan. But it could be they were fascinated by the potential for a lurid scandal.
Whatever the case, they’d never been busier.
That was why Jesse had decided to keep the place closed for the week. As much as the town would want to celebrate Mac’s release, she’d known that he needed a few days to recover. Plus, she’d wanted to spend some time alone with her dad. He’d been in jail for months. That was the longest they’d ever been separated. She’d genuinely missed his company.
Her pacing had taken her past the pool table when there was a soft tap. . .
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