The One Before

by Miranda Smith

Genres: Mystery; Crime Fiction; Psychological Thrillers; Suspense

Synopsis

Whisper Falls is a fresh start for Madison and her fiancé Cooper. The safe, quiet town on the shores of a beautiful lake is the perfect place to spend the rest of their lives. But then Madison learns that Cooper’s high-school girlfriend Celia disappeared after a party. Three days later, her body was found in the lake. And the town thinks it wasn’t an accident.

Madison loves Cooper, but she can’t help wondering. She has to know the truth. But if she starts asking questions, what other secrets will be revealed? Will she meet the same fate as the woman who came before her?

A dark, gripping psychological thriller with a brilliant twist, The One Before is perfect for fans of Karin Slaughter, Gillian Flynn and Rachel Caine.

“I STAYED UP UNTIL 1AM FINISHING THIS BOOK… I tried going to sleep, I really did. But every time I closed my eyes, I just kept thinking about this book, and I neeeedddddeddddd to know how it finished. I was shocked at how much l liked this book.” Goodreads Reviewer

“I devoured this book in one sitting. Got my heart racing, atmospheric, chilling and utterly gripping… Fantastic… Nail-biting… One of the best books I have read this year. A MUST READ!!!!! ” Goodreads Reviewer

“Boy did I enjoy it!! My heart was racing throughout… I didn't relax until the end. And what an ending it was!! ’ Goodreads Reviewer

“A page-turner if I’ve ever read one! I picked this up when I was having trouble sleeping and literally did not put down until I was finished several hours later… The twists were unpredictable and whoa!… Everything I love in a great thriller!” Goodreads Reviewer

“Enthralling! Captivating! One of the best page-turners I've read this year!… It will suck you in and keep you there from start to finish.” Goodreads Reviewer

“My heart beat so fast!… Just perfect!… A rollercoaster!… Like OMG!” Goodreads Reviewer

“⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ YES!… Entirely captivating, the plot twists at the end had me on the edge of my seat… Mind blown. Do yourselves a favor, READ IT! ” Goodreads Reviewer

“Hoooooooooaaaa!!! Miranda Smith just knocked my socks off with this bad boy!… Do yourself a favor and pick this one up!!!!” Goodreads Reviewer

Release date: November 4, 2020

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 307

Sample

Celia stepped outside and met the sizzling heat, a stark contrast to the icy air pumping from her Honda Civic. As she left the parking lot, gravel and bronze sand slid between her flip-flops and feet. Once she reached grass, she hopped out of her shoes and wiped them clean. Now she was perfect again, from her braided blonde hair to her red-tipped toes.

“You’re late,” Ronnie said as he passed. He was wearing sunglasses and a visor, but she knew his eyes were on her. He liked to look at her. Everyone did.

She shifted the weight in her hips and smiled. “You gonna hold it against me?”

Ronnie started to say something but shuffled away instead. Celia loved the power she exerted over men. It was a God-given gift—one she planned on using until she took her last breath. She wiggled out of her tank top and Soffe shorts, folding the clothes neatly inside her duffel. She draped a whistle around her neck and started rubbing sunscreen into her already tanned skin, careful to reach the spots that would peek beneath her red one-piece.

Once ready, she pulled down her sunglasses and climbed the white wooden lifeguard stand, adjusting the attached umbrella to an angle that was just right. She sat there, looking out at the liveliest place in her sleepy hometown. Families had come in swarms to Whisper Lake that year, one of the busiest seasons she could remember. She’d been coming here most of her life, but this was only her second year as a lifeguard. Everyone in Whisper Falls frequented the lake during summer; not much else was offered, except for the County Fair at the end of August.

Celia settled into a comfortable position, peering over her rims at all the people she recognized. She spotted her youth minister, a former math teacher and the man who changed the oil in her car. Several classmates were in the sand preparing a volleyball game. Throughout her shift, each person she knew would catch sight of her and wave. Even people she didn’t know eventually ogled her. All of them admiring her beauty, her athleticism, her strength.

This was Celia’s favorite place in the world. A hot summer day at the lake, sitting on her throne, looking down on those around her. It’s going to be a good day, she thought, leaning back and closing her eyes.

She could never have predicted this day would be her last.

It’s my fault we’re moving.

I always knew we’d end up in Whisper Falls; agreeing to marry Cooper Douglas cemented that future. Still, I thought I had some time. At least five years, maybe ten. I’ll miss the city, the pulsating excitement just outside my door. I feel that life source dimming with each mile marker I pass. The traffic thins, and the landscape flattens. I think we’ve reached the other side of nothingness, but the GPS insists we keep going, until we’re off the highway completely, traveling narrow, two-lane streets.

The route leading to our house is bare of civilization but filled with natural beauty. The only mark of human intervention is the narrow road with its faded white median. Tall trees—don’t even ask me what kind—stand along the edges, their fallen leaves resting politely on the grass as if by design.

Finally, I see the house. Our house, I suppose. Before we left Atlanta, Coop and I decided to play a game where I told him what I expected the house to look like, without seeing any pictures. I’m about right. Two stories. Wraparound porch. There’s no shed in the back like I imagined, and the house is white brick, not red.

I park in front of the detached garage. I step outside, staring at the house, and take in a deep breath. It’s true what they say. The air is cleaner here. Soothing. It can almost rid me of my anxiety with a few deep inhales. Almost.

Behind me, Coop turns into the driveway. He’s hauling a rented trailer, which contains all the belongings from our apartment. My things filled less than a dozen boxes. Coop had more stuff, and he’d only been in Atlanta for two years. He exits his vehicle, stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

“So, what do you think?”

“Pretty close to what I imagined,” I say. I lean my head to the left, my hair blowing in the breeze. “I think I like the white brick better.”

He squeezes me, then walks to the porch. I follow him. “Of course, this house is temporary, if you want it to be. We can always buy our own, or even build.”

“Give me a tour. I can’t decide if I like the place until I see the inside.”

After a brief walkthrough, I decide I definitely like the place. The wooden floors are original and clean. There’s a fireplace in the massive living room. Upstairs, there are four bedrooms. The master is the biggest and has a small balcony overlooking the front lawn. I stand there, my fingers wrapped tightly around the iron railing. I look ahead at the Great Smoky Mountains in the distance. I try to picture every morning like this. Can I do it? Can I be happy here?

I think back to when we made the decision to move, after I told Coop what I’d done. It no longer made sense to stay in the city when he had the Douglas publishing empire to take over. He would have stayed in Atlanta for me, but I ruined that.

Coop never made me feel that way, though. Like I’d done something wrong. Instead, he kicked the Whisper Falls sales pitch into high gear, pulled up photos and highlighted our substantial cost-of-living cuts. I agreed moving was the best decision, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. My life in the city was unsalvageable; the least I could do was follow Plan B quasi-enthusiastically.

Coop joins me on the balcony, kneading the tension from my shoulders.

“You said this used to be your aunt’s house,” I say. “How long has it been vacant?”

“Five years or so. Mom kept the lawns maintained and renovated the interior. It feels brand new.”

“Your aunt. Did she, you know—”

“Die in the house?” He grins, despite the morbid topic.

“Yeah?” Although beautiful, the house is over a century old. It screams of hauntings.

“You and your active imagination.” He kisses the top of my head and walks back inside.

Coop’s aunt isn’t the only ghost on my mind. He’s told me several stories about his hometown in the two years we’ve been together. The most memorable was about his high school girlfriend, Celia Gray. She drowned in the waters of Whisper Lake the summer before he started college. The event was a defining moment in his life; it haunts him, and now it haunts me. We both knew moving here would disrupt his past, but I’m hoping, at the same time, it will erase mine.

We’re off to join Coop’s family for Sunday brunch. I know little about my in-laws. Coop’s father died a few years back, and I’ve never met his siblings. His mother, Josephine, visited Atlanta once; she insisted on buying dinner to celebrate our engagement. Seeing her again feels different now that I’m one of them. On their turf. The water thinning their bloodline.

Coop describes his family as close-knit, yet he made the conscious choice to separate them from our relationship. When we lived together in the city, he never suggested I accompany him on his visits to Whisper Falls. He’s kept me at a distance; moving here bridges that gap. As we make the short drive to Josephine’s house, I sense Coop’s nervousness rising. He’s quiet, with a tight grip on the wheel.

“Are you okay?” I ask, after several minutes of silence.

Coop exhales and forces a smile. “I don’t know what I’m so worried about. I know they’re going to love you.” He squeezes my knee. “I suppose I’m adjusting to the idea of living here again.”

I’m also adjusting, still reeling from the move and the life we’ve left behind. “What do they know about me?”

“All good things. They know you’re a journalist. Born and raised in the city.” He laughs. “They know you make me happy.”

I smile, fiddling with the ring around my finger. Suddenly, I feel a pang of sadness, like I’m some ragamuffin the Douglas family is rescuing. I wish I had someone other than Coop with whom I could share this new life, although, truthfully, I’ve been on my own longer than I’d like to admit. I don’t have a relationship with my parents or anyone from my childhood. Beth and Matt, my closest friends, are back in the city.

“Here we are,” Coop says, stopping the car outside a black gate. He rolls down the window and punches a code into the security system. The gates open, leading us down a twisty drive lined with more trees.

“Wow.” I knew his family had money, but I wasn’t quite expecting this.

“A dramatic entrance, eh?” There’s a hint of embarrassment in his voice. Not many people can relate to his family’s level of wealth. I wonder what that does to a person, coming from so much? It must make one guarded with everyone. Friends. Schoolmates. Lovers.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, trying to hide the shock in my voice. In the distance, the sun hovers over a large body of water. It seems to have appeared out of nowhere, hidden behind the greenery of the massive landscape. “Is that a lake?”

“The back end of the house overlooks Whisper Lake. You’ll see more as we get closer.”

Suddenly, I remember Celia, and it’s like this ghost from his past is sitting in the car with us. Whisper Lake is beautiful, but I know the murky currents hold secrets. They hold danger.

We take a sharp turn, and now the Douglas manor is in full view. As we pull closer, it becomes larger. It’s two-stories, but wide, easily spanning six thousand square feet. Dark wooden beams hoist a large balcony on the second floor. Coop parks our car beside a circular fountain at the front. We both sit in silence, staring at the massive house.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I nod, too intimidated to speak. I can’t shake the feeling I’ve entered into a world meant for someone else.

We don’t knock. Coop uses a key to unlock the front door. Somehow, that simple action makes this place feel real. Like it’s part ours. I can’t believe Coop, the same person who shared my one-bedroom apartment, calls this his childhood home.

“We’re here,” Coop calls out. His voice echoes. Echoes throughout the large space. There’s a grand staircase ascending from where we stand. Coop walks forward, and I follow him, trying to appear at ease. Like I belong. I’m hoping his family won’t realize within minutes that I don’t.

Coop leads me through several rooms until we reach two French doors. He pushes them open, and we walk onto the back deck. There’s a dining table there, already covered with a white linen cloth and multi-colored chrysanthemums. Josephine is standing there tampering with the centerpiece. She turns.

“Finally, you’re home,” she says, holding out her arms to hug Coop. He bends down and embraces her.

“It’s good to be back.” Coop releases his mother and straightens his posture, placing his hand on my lower back. “You remember Madison.”

“Of course.” She gives me a hug. “Lovely to see you again.”

“I love your outfit,” I say to Josephine, sensing my jersey dress is informal brunch attire. She’s wearing a bright red skirt and blazer, a pearl broach fastened to her left lapel. Unlike Coop’s golden mane, she has dark curls that stop at her chin. There are soft lines around the corners of her mouth and eyes.

“I always dress up on Sundays,” she says, sitting at the head of the table. “You and Cooper should consider joining us at church.”

“Don’t start,” Coop says, taking a seat.

“Have I said something wrong?” Josephine leans back with both hands in the air. She looks at me. “Are you religious, Madison?”

“Yes.” I skid my chair closer to the table as I sit. “I’ve not been a member at a specific church in a while, though.”

“Sounds like that should change,” she says, unfurling a napkin. “First Presbyterian has a wonderful congregation. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

“We can find our own church,” Coop says, failing to mask his annoyance.

“Sure you can. I just think it would be nice to have someone join me besides Roman. It’s not like Regina will go.”

The back door opens, and a slender young woman walks out carrying a tray. She’s wearing a cream turtleneck, and her straight hair almost reaches her waist. Her mane is darker than her mother’s, though. It’s intentionally dyed black, which only heightens the alabaster hue of her skin.

“My little heathen joins us at last,” Josephine says, pouring lemonade into her glass.

“I brought food at least.” Regina places the tray in the middle of the table. “This one is a chicken pot pie, and I’ve got a vegetable pie in the kitchen.”

“A heathen and a tree-hugger.” Josephine wears a sardonic smile.

Regina pretends to curtsy, then faces me. She looks me up and down, and I can’t help wondering if she’s comparing me to previous girlfriends she’s met before. “You must be Madison.”

I smile, swallowing down my nervousness. Something about the look on Regina’s face makes me feel like a consolation prize. “It’s great to finally meet you. Coop’s told me all about his family.”

“I’m sure.” Regina rolls her eyes, then shoots a look in Coop’s direction. “Where’s Roman? Won’t he be joining?”

“He had some errands to run,” Josephine says, inspecting the pie in front of her. “Regina is our personal chef of sorts. She owns Nectar, the best restaurant in town.”

Coop stands and cuts three slices. He serves Josephine, me, then himself. Regina walks into the kitchen, returning with a plate of vegetable pie. For several minutes, there’s silence as everyone eats.

“This is the best part about moving back,” Coop says, covering his mouth. “You’re the greatest cook in the south, Regina.”

“It’s really impressive,” I say, flattening the napkin in my lap. “I can’t wait to visit Nectar.”

Josephine finishes chewing and looks at Coop. “You think that’s the best part about returning to Whisper Falls?”

“One of the best,” he says, his tone dulled.

Regina’s eyes narrow, bouncing between Coop and Josephine. “Say, this is brunch, right? I could whip up some Bloody Marys and mimosas.”

“That’s distasteful this early on a Sunday,” Josephine replies, shooing at her with a fork.

Regina tilts her head to the side and guzzles her lemonade. “Maybe if Roman were here.”

Beside me, Coop’s face reddens. I know he wants me to be comfortable around his family, an impossible feat when they can’t be at ease around each other. Regina’s suggestion has merit; I sense Douglas family functions run smoother when alcohol is involved.

“What are your plans at the Gazette, Cooper?” Josephine asks.

“It’ll be a busy week. My calendar is already filled with a slew of community events and meetings.”

“Your father would be so proud,” she says, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “He always knew you’d be the best person to run the business.”

I hear a sigh coming from Regina’s direction, but I don’t look. Coop told me his maternal great-grandfather started the Whisper Falls Gazette, and the publication has remained in the family ever since. When Coop’s father died, his second-in-command took over until Coop could.

“I feel guilty for the time I’ll be stealing from Madison,” he says. “I’d like to establish a routine before the wedding rolls around.”

“I’m happy you mentioned the wedding,” Josephine says, holding up her glass. “We have loads of planning to discuss.”

“Here we go.” Regina rolls her eyes, but I sense she enjoys watching the family tension unfold.

“There’s not much left to do,” Coop says.

Josephine turns to me. “Cooper booked First Presbyterian for the ceremony. I assume you have a dress.”

“I do,” I say. “We finalized most of the decisions before the move.”

She looks at Coop. “You still need flowers and decorations and entertainment.”

“Madison is capable of planning her own wedding,” he says.

“Yeah, Mom. Give the girl a break,” Regina says. “She’s not working right now. She’ll have loads of time on her hands.”

We all stare at Regina. I feel slighted by her unnecessary comment, but I don’t think she can help herself. In the half hour I’ve known her, I’ve picked up on her innate ability to aggravate people.

“It’s not about that,” Coop says, jerking his head away from his sister. “This is Madison’s big day. She should be free to do as much or as little as she wants.”

“I’ll give you the names of some event planners I’ve used in the past,” Josephine says, turning to me. “Most are based out of Knoxville. You wouldn’t want to use anyone in Whisper.”

“That would be great. Thank you,” I say, hoping this will end the conversation. Josephine is straddling the line between helpful and intrusive. I squeeze Coop’s knee under the table, signaling him to stand down.

The back door opens, and Roman, the oldest of the Douglas children, walks onto the porch. It must be him because he looks just like Coop, minus the blond locks. He’s tall with thick hair that hovers over his eyes in curly brown tufts. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Did I miss anything?”

“We’ve covered religion, the wedding and Coop’s job,” Regina says, crossing her legs. “What’s next, Mom? Politics?”

“Relax, Reggie.” Roman rustles her hair a bit too harshly. “It’s Sunday.”

“I’m Madison,” I say, standing to greet him.

“So, you’re the woman who stole ol’ Cooper’s heart?” He gives me a hearty hug, lifting my feet into the air.

“Easy,” Coop says, helping me back into my seat.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Roman says, before he starts stuffing his face.

“Are you still managing Mom’s rental properties?” Coop asks him.

Roman nods. “Yep. And I’m in charge of the landscaping around the house.”

“This property is beautiful,” I say, turning to take in the complete view. “Josephine, you have a gorgeous home.”

“Thank you,” she says, scanning the faces of each person at the table. “I’m just happy to have everyone back. The place feels complete now.”

After our meal, we enter the library—a symbol of privilege in itself. I’ve never been to a home that had an entire room dedicated to books and trophies. Roman walks to the bar cart by the fireplace and pours a drink. Given his ruddy complexion, I don’t think it’s his first.

“Before you get settled, I have a small surprise,” Josephine says, walking up behind us and placing one hand on Coop’s shoulder, the other on mine. “I’ve asked Roger to snap a picture of the happy couple.”

“A picture?” I ask.

“Do we have to do this now?” Coop asks, his irritation from earlier rekindled.

“Hush it up. You’ve been engaged for months,” she says, tapping his shoulder. “We need to put your announcement in the social’s section.”

“They’ve just moved back,” Roman says. “Madison doesn’t even know anyone.”

“It’s only a declaration of your engagement,” she says. “We like to feature those sorts of things in the Gazette. And this is a particularly important announcement. You’re the first Douglas to get married.”

Both Roman and Regina flinch, as though the comment was intentionally meant to hurt them. Clearly Coop is Josephine’s golden boy, in more ways than one. She exits the library.

“Roman’s right. Madison doesn’t know anyone,” Coop says, sitting in a velvet armchair. “I was thinking maybe you could show her around, Regina?”

Regina looks at Coop, then me. “Sure. It would give us a chance to get to know each other. How’s Friday?”

“Great,” I say. “Hopefully I can unpack between now and then.”

“It’s a date.” Regina returns to whatever she was doing on her phone. Moments later, Josephine escorts Roger into the room, a slender man in his sixties with a camera in his hands. She introduces him as her house manager and most loyal confidante.

“Where do you want us to stand?” I ask, wanting to appear a good sport.

“By the fireplace,” says Roger. “We’ll get a nice sliver of the bookcase in the back.”

“Sounds perfect,” Josephine says, stepping behind Roger so she can see the frame.

Coop stands behind me, placing his hands on my waist. I put my left hand atop his, making sure the ring has all the attention it deserves.

“You both look wonderful,” Josephine says before Roger starts clicking.

“Mighty fine couple,” says Roman, taking another sip of his drink.

We stand motionless, smiling. When Roger puts the camera down, Coop leans forward and whispers in my ear. “See? They already love you.”

I smile wider and squeeze his hand. Maybe I’m built for this life after all.

Downtown Whisper Falls is exactly what I pictured it would be. Quiet. Traditional. Boring. Market Avenue is the center of the community. The street is littered with brick rectangular buildings, each no more than three-stories tall. Much like the autumn leaves, their colors range from red to orange. Between each building are narrow, shadowed alleys lined with weeds, nature’s attempt to retrieve what has been taken.

It’s a short walk to the Gazette headquarters. A small bell jingles overhead when I enter. The lobby is cramped, but I can see the space stretches . . .