He took a moment to try to think, and a sound behind him forced him out of it. It was the cracking of a branch. He couldn't tell for sure if it was his, but he couldn't take the chance. He began to inch his way back, not wanting to rock it too much. Closer now, he could see where the wood was split, and as the tip of his shoe reached the sturdier part of the tree, it snapped.

  The blinding rage stopped the pain when his body hit the ground. He scrambled to his feet and took a step back to look at the building again. He couldn’t get inside. All entrances in this section were tightly closed, and there was no guarantee even if he did run down to the opposite end of the building, fighting through the acres of trees, that there would be another entrance he could use. He would waste all that time. Time Liza might not have. There had to be another way. Something that would get Alex away from Liza and give Nick the time to find her.

  In an instant, he took off running toward the car he’d left parked out of sight so he could approach quietly on foot. There was only one thing that might draw Alex away from the soundstage. It was time for The Boss to get back to work.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alex

  He had the key to his study when he came home from showing Nick the contract for the camp. He knew he did. He could remember walking into the house and going into the study to leave his briefcase. Suspicion burned in his chest, but Alex tried to stop it from becoming anger. There had to be an explanation.

  He hadn't been gone from the house long before he turned the car around and headed back. The key had to be somewhere in the house. There was no other place that could be. He walked into the house and immediately felt something off. Something changed in the atmosphere. It no longer felt like home. He could hear something rustling down the hallway, and he headed down it toward the nursery. The door stood open, and the flicker of anger started to swell and build. Mary was in the nursery, doing something far more than dusting.

  The first thing he saw when he stepped up to the door was her dress crumpled in the middle of the floor. Pink with small white dots, it was one of his favorites. Angela had been particularly proud of that one when he’d gone into the vintage store that he purchased clothes for Mary from. He wanted the house to be ready for her when he welcomed his new wife, and that dress had been what he looked forward to seeing her in the most.

  Mary was standing in front of the door to the closet. It was closed, but she was far too close to it to be a coincidence.

  “What are you doing?” Alex asked.

  His eyes burned with fury as they took in the clothes she was wearing. They disgusted him. It was things like that in the pictures Nick showed that made him know she needed him. No woman as beautiful as Mary should be dressing in clothes like that. Yet, there she stood in front of him, the lovely dress he bought for her thrown on the ground and her choosing to wear veritable rags instead. Something in her hand caught his attention. It was a metallic glint she tried to twist into her palm and conceal, but she couldn't.

  Alex stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. Mary tried to pull back from him, but he held tight. His other hand dug into her closed fist to wrench open her fingers and snatch back the key to his study. She stood her ground defiantly.

  "Your name is Alex," she said slowly, her voice dark. "Alex Whitman, not Charles."

  "My name is Charles Alexander Whitman," Alex told her. "Charles to you."

  "Why?"

  "Alex is only for when I am at work."

  "With my husband."

  The back of his hand cracked against her cheekbone. Mary stumbled. In that moment, she was nothing but Liza. Common, unpolished, forgettable.

  "Don't you dare speak to me that way."

  She straightened and met his eyes.

  "You are Alex Whitman. You own a production company where you work with Nick Helmsworth. My husband."

  She lifted her chin without flinching when he took a step toward her. Alex let his fingertips trace down her cheek and along her jawline.

  "I saved you," he whispered.

  "And Rebecca? I don't have a sister, Alex. I never have. The blonde woman I remembered, that was Rebecca."

  "An unfortunate incident."

  Mary... Liza... scoffed.

  "An unfortunate incident? You killed her."

  She started inching her way to the side, moving toward the door. Alex followed.

  "Why would you say such a thing?" he asked. "I know how hard you work to keep that kitchen clean. You always have. Ever since we were married."

  "We aren't married, Alex. I've only been here for six months."

  "Don't be silly. We've been married for years. The blonde woman was your sister, Vivian."

  "I don't have a sister," she said again, moving closer to the door. "That was Rebecca. She was here when I came. You wanted both of us. Then something happened, and you wanted to get rid of her. So, you did. You murdered her in the kitchen and almost killed me in the process, then dragged both of us outside. I watched you bury her. That's when I lost my memory."

  "You don't know what you're saying," Alex said, trying to reason with her.

  This was going to be more difficult than he hoped. But he had been through it before. He knew how to mold her. He would start again if he had to.

  "Yes, I do."

  He lunged to stop her from getting to the door, but she dodged him, scrambling around him and running. Alex chased after her and grabbed hold of the back of her sweatshirt, yanking her back against him.

  "Why are you being like this?" he asked. "Come on, Darling. We are so happy. Why do you want to ruin our happiness?"

  "I don't even know you," she hissed.

  His hand was sliding up the center of her chest toward her throat when the phone in his study rang. Any time he was home, calls to his cell phone were redirected to that phone. It could be anyone. He growled and yanked her with him to the door to the study. Using the key he had just taken back from her, Alex unlocked the door and dragged her with him to the desk.

  "Yes?" he barked.

  "Mr. Whitman?"

  "Yes. Who is this?"

  He usually had better phone manners, but in this situation, he had other things on his mind.

  "This is the River View Fire Department. We received a call reporting a fire at a property listed in your name. The Camp Pine Trails."

  Alex bit off the profanity that tried to make its way out of his mouth.

  "I'll be right there."

  He slammed the phone down and pulled Mary back out of the study, locking it and firmly stuffing the key into his pocket. He brought her to the bedroom and shoved her down onto the bed.

  "Don't move," he warned and stomped out of the house.

  Liza

  There is more fear in my veins than blood. But as soon as Alex leaves the house, I jump up from the bed and run for the guest room again. I finish packing and go to the front door; hopeful his rush means he didn't lock it. My hope is instantly dashed. I am trying to think of the next option for how to get out of the house when the phone rings.

  Not the phone in Alex's study, but the pink one in the kitchen. It's attached to the wall beside the refrigerator, and I have never touched it. Too anxious, Alex always told me. Too afraid to speak to strangers. He never called me, and I didn't know anyone else, so there was never a reason to touch the receiver. This is the first time I've heard its tone.

  I tremble as I walk up to it and lift the receiver.

  "Hello?"

  "Turn on the TV, Mary," Alex says in a slick, almost flirtatious tone. "There's someone who wants to talk to you."

  The cord is long enough for me to bring it with me into the living room. I turn the dial on the television. My mind expects I Love Lucy or The Honeymooners. Instead, I see Alex's face. He's outside, standing on sandy ground.

  "What are you doing?" I ask into the phone.

  He steps to the side, and I see Nick on the ground, his hands and feet bound, blood trickling from his nose.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Alex

  "Hello, Liza," Alex said, his voice slithering like an eel as he marveled at himself.

  He heard the phone receiver fall to the floor and ended the call on his own phone. He opened an app and pressed a button, then tucked the phone away in his pocket.

  For once, she was going to see all the trouble he went to for her. For once, she would finally see how much he loved her.

  "Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled soap opera, but I think Nick here has something to say, don't you?"

  Walking into frame, Alex stood with an antique microphone, its sleek metal shell still emblazoned with the call letters of the station that had used it for newscasts before it was discarded and then found at a thrift shop so many years ago. Now he pointed the microphone at Nick, who struggled against the ropes. A muffled sound of rage came from deep within his chest against the tape across his mouth.

  "No? Oh, I guess Nick is a little too tied up to speak now."

  He laughed. It was the first time he had truly laughed in ages. It came from deep in his belly and spilled out of him in staccato bursts of baritone. For so long, he had laughed so meticulously, so measured. Like a Ward Cleaver laugh. A laugh that still had an air of authority, of control. A laugh that could be doled out for the right moment where it was needed. But this, this was a full-on Dick Van Dyke laugh. It was deep, booming, and sharp. He laughed until his belly hurt, and his eyes watered.

  When the laughter had descended into a mild chuckle, he regained his composure and stared back at the camera. He had his usual audience of one, the woman who would be Perfect. If she only tried.

  "Did you ever find the box on the back of the television, Liza? I'm sure you did. You must have cleaned the top of the set a thousand times, dusting away, and away. But did you ever pay attention to the little box with the blinking light? Didn't that ring a bell, Liza? Do you know what it was, Nick? Oh, you will love this. It was…" he mimicked a drum roll in the air.

  Nick struggled in vain to get out of the ropes that held him so tightly, but they wouldn't budge. Alex had gotten very good with ropes over the years.

  "It was a router, Liza! A router to connect to the internet. All this time, I have been streaming a channel I created online. I spent days, Liza. I spent days finding every episode in that TV guide and putting them on this channel. It was so much work. So very much work. I had to program the television to send a signal to change to another channel on the web. It took months to curate all of it. And the commercials! My goodness, Liza, you wouldn't believe how long it took to track down all those commercials."

  There had been weeks spent finding all those shows, then days and days of creating the exact right stream for her to watch. Favors had been called in from studios so he could raid their archives. Thousands of dollars had been spent blindly buying reels at auction. Every single second of six months’ worth of programming he had done by hand. Just for her. He had gone through so much just so she could change the dial on the set and see three different channels, exactly as the guide had said they would be. It had been perfect. Just for her.

  Nick thrashed on the ground beside him, and Alex gave him a sharp kick in the hip to quiet him.

  “But I would do it all again, Darling. I would do anything for you. I already have. Only I didn’t know it was for you. Not at first. I thought it was for someone else. I met her when I was just a boy. We went to summer camp together. She was so beautiful, so different from all the other girls. I knew then there was something special about her and decided she would be mine one day. But she never noticed me.” Alex shook his head slightly. “I couldn’t really blame her. Everyone was charmed by her, enchanted by even a glance from her. She didn’t know that. To her, it was her best friend who had everyone’s attention. But I knew the truth. I saw her for what she really was. She was everything, and I was just the boy who went to private schools during the year and then had his rich parents dump him off at the camp so they could travel through Europe in the summers. I hadn’t proven myself yet. I wasn’t deserving of her attention.”

  Alex shook his head, taking a step closer so Liza would see the sincerity in his eyes.

  “Don’t let that bother you, Darling. I didn’t know you then. I was blinded by her. Every year I looked forward to seeing her, and every summer, I worked toward gaining her attention. A few times, she spoke to me, but it never went beyond that. As we got older, her friends became cruel. They were brutal toward me and ensured I never got close to her. I had to watch as she dedicated herself to boys who could never please her and then to a best friend who treated her like a puppet.”

  “You,” Nick growled, having pulled his mouth free from the tape. “You and your fucking movie. That was it the whole time. You just wanted to get your hands on Lisanne.”

  Alex looked down at him. Hearing him speak was infuriating, but at least he understood.

  “It was brilliant, don’t you think? I could craft my own reality. That’s what my father always taught me. In the movies, anything is possible. You can escape from the cold cruelty of the world into a beautiful fantasy. Anything you want, anything you can possibly dream of, can be yours. That’s what I would do. For me and for her. I’d save her from a world that wasn’t good enough for her and show her what life could truly be. A lovely home, a devoted husband, a world where she doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

  “Where she can be a puppet,” Nick snapped.

  Alex shoved him with his foot again.

  “Not a puppet. A wife. My wife. We’d leave now and go to 1955. I have always thought the world was at its best then and in the few years after. We could reset our existence and relive the peace, comfort, and prosperity. Everything would be as it should be. But I had learned. I’d learned from many years of trying to earn her heart that I couldn’t just jump into it. No.” He shook his head, staring into the lens of the camera and envisioning Liza staring into his eyes. “I had to be ready. Really ready. I had to practice and ensure I could be the very best husband I could be. Unfortunately, that took some sacrifice, but it was necessary. It was what had to be done. Everything was falling into place exactly the way it was supposed to. I’d make a movie to commemorate the fifteenth anniversary of the last summer we spent at camp, the summer Bethany DeAngelis disappeared. We’d bring in original campers. Lisanne would be there. She would finally see me. Then everything changed.

  Alex crouched down so he could be close to Nick’s face.

  “You see, Nicholas here had begun to show off pictures of his lovely wife. So sweet. So beautiful. But so mishandled. I knew as soon as I saw you, he couldn’t be the right husband for you. A lowly laborer barely bringing in enough money to support a bachelor properly. I should know. I’m the one who paid him. You deserved so much more. At the time, I felt sad for you. My eyes were still set on Lisanne, and I could only hope you would one day find the one who could give you the life you deserve. But then I thought… why? Why should sweet Liza be forced to suffer a classless brute of a husband when I have more than enough love and devotion for two perfect women?”

  He rubbed his chin with one hand. A buzzing sound was growing in his ears, and it felt like the ground was starting to get uneven beneath his feet. The rush of those summer weeks was coming back to him. He felt the adrenaline tinging his blood and pounding in his heart. It made his hands tingle and his stomach feel tense. He rolled his head, trying to release the muscles in his neck.

  “I hate that name. I hate that you allowed yourself to be called by it. It’s so coarse. So common. Then I found out your name isn’t Liza at all. It’s Mary. Mary Elizabeth. Perfect. That’s what you would be to me. Mary. Of course, I couldn’t just bring both of you home at the same time. It would take more time to get ready. I had to make sure I was prepared for the responsibility. Fortunately, I still had one of my practice women at home. I could bring one of you home and then later replace that woman with the other. It was supposed to be Lisanne first. Then you. But all that unpleasantness happened, and it didn’t unfold the way I’d planned. Until you came. You were right there. All I had to do was open my arms and welcome you home.”

  “You didn’t bring her home,” Nick seethed. “You abducted her.”

  Alex cracked his neck again, stretching and contracting his hands to release the pressure and maintain his control. He drew in a long breath and let it sit in his lungs. It gathered the frustration and carried it out as he let the air stream from his lips before looking back toward the camera.

  "You were so close, Mary. You were so close to perfection. Trying to save Rebecca was valiant, and hitting you was an unfortunate accident, but it had such a wonderful result. When you woke up, you didn’t remember. You were soft and pliable, ready to accept me and the life I crafted for you. It was better than I could have even imagined. You were so close to being my perfect wife. You still could be," he said, excitement ramping up in his voice.

  Sweat was coming down his face in thick droplets now, a byproduct of the bright set lights he had brought in for this moment. They were hot, sure, but they lit up everything so well, and she deserved to see it that way. To see every single detail. It would make the perfect scene. Everything perfect.

  "You could be the perfect wife if you just listen to me. Just listen to what I say, your husband, your-," he stopped mid-sentence and looked over at Nick. "Oh, right. Of course. I don't know what I was thinking. I know what's been holding you back. I know what's been keeping you from accepting everything I have done for you. It's him. Your meddling Nick. The man that couldn't provide for you. The man that couldn't give you the life you deserve. But somewhere, deep inside, you know you took a vow. That's why you can't commit to me yet, isn't it, Darling? You are a good woman. An honest woman. You don’t want to break the promise you made.

  "Well, then I will take care of that. Can you imagine the extra layer to the film, too? Another victory for the Curse of Pine Trails. It will give so much depth to the characters, so much for the audience to cheer for when they see him finally gone! It will be amazing, Mary, just you wait. It will be the best anyone has ever seen."