“That wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” I half-heartedly agree. Although I haven’t had as much to drink as Gabby, delirium—I imagine from a lack of sleep—is setting in. “First, we’d have to find out if they’re actually identical. Otherwise, it won’t work.”

  “You can tell him you invited her over for coffee because you understood what she was going through after you lost Britta. Having to come face-to-face with his victim’s sister would likely make him uncomfortable, even if they’re not identical.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Gabby lifts her phone from the island and begins swiping a finger over the screen. “Hold on, I bet I can find the answer in under thirty seconds. As much as I hate all the negativity and nonsense of social media, it sure comes in handy for unexpected reasons.”

  She concentrates harder, sticking her tongue out as she finishes typing. A moment later, she beams proudly when showing me her phone’s screen.“Voila! You don’t need a DNA test to prove they’re identical!”

  In Molly Boese’s profile picture, two blonde women in matching cowboy hats and low-cut T-shirts embrace in front of an outdoor stage where a band performs, each grinning from ear to ear.

  They’re a mirror image.

  I sleep until early afternoon, then drag myself out of bed and get ready like any other morning. Although inebriated when she left, Gabby promised to track Molly Boese down this morning and bring her by as soon possible—assuming she’s in town because of her sister’s death.

  I spend the next hour putting Noah’s belongings away, only somewhat worried I’m doing something wrong that will make him suspicious. At some point in time, I’ll have to confront him about the knife, even if it breaks my heart to think he would be capable of killing someone I loved.

  As I wait for a second pot of coffee to brew, the doorbell chimes.

  Gabby and an exact replica of the topless woman stand on my front step. The young woman is short and petite with a remarkably smaller chest than her twin’s. Her gray “Johnny Cash” T-shirt and jean shorts are modest, and her sunny blond hair is pulled into a high ponytail. She wears bright white sneakers and a fashionable sling purse. Mild puffiness beneath her sapphire-colored eyes makes me wonder if she’d been crying on the way here.

  Red-hot jealousy clogs my throat. She’s so young and…perky. Is she Noah’s new type?

  Gabby motions to the woman. “Max, this is Molly. Her sister’s the one they found in the lake…like your cousin.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I offer, swinging the door open. “Come on in. I’ll have coffee for anyone who wants it in a minute. Otherwise, I have water and soda, too.”

  “I’m okay,” Molly mumbles, entering ahead of Gabby.

  Gabby and I exchange a tense look.

  Molly slowly spins around beneath the grand windows overlooking the lake. “This place is really something. I always wondered what it was like inside.”

  “Thank you.” I motion to the couch. “Go ahead and have a seat.”

  “On second thought,” she says, wearily eyeing the couch, “do you have the stuff to make a Bloody Mary?”

  I start for the built-in bar across the kitchen. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

  “I’ll take one too!” Gabby calls after me.

  “How did you know my sister again?” Molly asks as I’m filling a glass with ice.

  “She served me at the Legion a few times,” Gabby answers. “It’s not like we were besties or anything. Was she married? Did she have kids?”

  “No kids or husband…only a boyfriend,” Molly offers.

  Gabby’s voice raises an octave. “Someone from around here?”

  “I guess. I live in the cities and hadn’t been back in a while, so I never got to meet him.”

  After pouring the vodka, I turn back to join the conversation. “We might know him. What was his name?”

  Still standing in the center of the living room, she shrugs. “She never told me.”

  “Do you think it was because he was married?” Gabby presses a little too eagerly.

  “What’s going on here?” Molly blurts, side-eying us both. “Did you two bring me here so you could find out the scoop on my sister’s affair with a married man? Was she sleeping with one of your husbands? Is that it?”

  Gabby throws me a cautious glance.

  “We simply feel bad for you, having lost your sister,” I explain with a gentle smile. “My cousin was like a sister to me, too. We thought it would help if you and I met so we could grieve together.”

  “Bullshit.” Molly's smooth, blemish-free face flushes with anger. “How dare you play stupid games with someone in mourning⁠—”

  “You’re right,” I admit, fearful she’ll take off. “I have reason to believe my husband was having an affair with your sister.”

  Her glare on me feels murderous. “Do the police know that?”

  “I think, at this point, Detective Kelly suspects it to be true,” Gabby replies on my behalf. “We don’t have any hard proof at this point.”

  “Has she questioned him about it?”

  I shake my head. “I love my husband, and I don’t think he’s capable of murder,” I explain with tears building behind my eyes. “I don’t want to throw him under the bus if he didn’t kill her. I won’t get him involved as a suspect unless I have something to prove his guilt.”

  Gabby and I agreed it isn’t necessary to tell her about the knife. At least not yet.

  “What do you want from me?” she asks, spreading her arms wide. “I already told you I had no idea what he looks like.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gabby explains. “We’re hoping we can gauge his reaction by having you approach him when he returns…make him think he’s being haunted.”

  Molly lets out a harsh laugh. “Men like him are skilled liars. What makes you think he won’t act perfectly normal when he sees me, even if he did it?” Staring at the floor, she shakes her head. “Besides, a reaction isn’t actual proof of anything.”

  “I might have another idea,” Gabby tells her, glancing in my direction. “Didn’t you tell me Noah has an aversion to sleeping pills?”

  I throw her a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah…he becomes loopy and sometimes a little over-emotional before passing out cold.”

  Turning back to Molly, she tilts her head. “How are your acting skills?”

  20

  PRESENT DAY

  Beth

  Noah’s still away on business when I call Taylor. I haven’t checked in on her since her momma died. I need to confirm she’s okay and thrivin'. If my idea of what to do with Noah goes down as planned, there’s a chance it could get messy. It’s possible I may never see her again.

  “Hey!” she shouts over the crass beat of hard rock and laughter blastin' in the background. “You caught me in the middle of planning Payton’s bachelor party with the best man. We’re at a bar in Midtown…it’s pretty loud here. Can I call you back?”

  “Actually, this can’t wait,” I say. “It’s important. Can you step outside for a minute?”

  “Yeah, sure.” After a minute passes, the music becomes muffled. “Okay, you have my full attention. It’s raining, so I’m in the bathroom. What’s up?”

  “It’s about your real father,” I begin, attemptin' to keep hatred from seepin' into my voice. “Noah.”

  “What about him?” she snaps. “I already told you I want nothing to do with him. Or Oliver. They’re both dead to me.”

  “I understand why you’re upset with Oliver, but he was told the truth only a short time before you. Your momma and Noah kept it a secret from everyone until recently. Oliver was convinced they were lyin’ until he sent the DNA test.”

  Taylor lets out a long sigh. “I should hate my mom for hiding the truth my whole life, but it’s hard to hold a grudge against someone who’s gone. You know what I mean?”

  “It’s still okay to hate her. You certainly wouldn’t be the only one.”

  She giggles. “You sound funny. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I’m callin’ to remind you of somethin’ important. If anythin' were to happen to your biological father, you’d be entitled to a portion of his estate. And I can assure you, Noah’s filthy rich.”

  “You think I care about that douche-bag’s money?” she replies with a sarcastic laugh. “You said he made my mom lie to my dad because he didn’t want me. Between my career and the money Mom left me as a safety net, I’m set. They can bury him with my inheritance. Better yet, I’ll take it and give it all to charity. Plenty of kids in the system would benefit from having a college scholarship waiting for them when they turn eighteen. Like you’ve always said—kids from bad families just need a break in life, right?”

  “You’re a sweet girl with a pure heart, Tay. Payton will be the luckiest man alive to have you as his wife.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You hardly ever call me ‘Tay’.”

  Glancin’ up at the house Noah poured an exuberant amount of money into, I pause to light a cigarette and take a long, satisfyin’ drag.

  The nightmare will be over soon.

  “I’m more than okay, darlin’.”

  “Okay, weirdo.” The tinklin’ laugh she lets out makes me grin. “Why are you acting like this conversation is urgent?”

  “I have a good feelin’ Noah will be arrested for the murder of your momma.”

  Other than the muted sounds of the bar’s music, my revelation is met with silence.

  “Taylor, did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I heard you.” She sniffles. “Do you think he did it?”

  “Oh, baby girl, I know he did.”

  21

  28 YEARS EARLIER

  Noah

  I finally convince Max to stay in Minnesota for the summer. With the old beater my folks gave me for making the A honor roll every semester last year, I drive her and her grandma to the hospital in Worthington for her grandma’s chemotherapy treatments.

  I also take Max back and forth to waitress in Slayton. Somehow, she claims she can make ends meet without needing money from her grandma. In whatever free time she has left, I’m usually at her grandma’s trailer house on the lake. My mom sends dinner along with me so Max doesn’t have the extra financial burden of food.

  My sister and my mom have possibly fallen more in love with her than I have, which sometimes irritates the hell out of me. Other times, it kinda warms my heart. It’s like she’s a part of our family. And I like that. A lot.

  Best of all, I like knowing she’s safe when she’s with us.

  One hot night in July, I snag a bottle of my mom’s wine when she isn’t looking and drive Max to the State Park. We settle on a blanket in an isolated spot far from the other campers, and I encircle my arms around her as lightning bugs dance above the grass.

  The dark sky’s clear, allowing us to make out every constellation—at least the ones we know. The hazy, purple band of the Milky Way slices through the middle like the sky’s cracking open. I’ve never seen Lake Shetek look so cool.

  On my old man’s portable boom box, I play a CD I burned with some of Max’s favorite tunes. When Kurt Cobain’s raspy voice begins to croon a remake of the old Beetles song, “And I Love Her”—a bootleg version I scored from an older cousin in Washington—Max sighs wearily.

  “He had such a beautiful voice. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

  Clearing my throat, I squeeze my arms around her. Since I’m afraid to tell her how much I love her after the last time, I decided to let Kurt speak for me. “This song…it makes me think of you.”

  Nudging my arms away, she spins around to straddle my lap. Her body’s so soft and warm that I’m terrified I’ll embarrass myself. My eyes dart over her shoulder as I try like hell to focus on the sounds of chirping frogs and water lapping the rocky shoreline. Anything to distract my body from ruining the moment.

  But I can’t force myself to ignore her for long. She’s beyond beautiful in the pale moonlight cutting through the oak trees above us.

  The gold flecks in her hazel eyes dance in the moonlight as she drags her fingers through my hair with a thoughtful smile. “Why are you so good to me?”

  “Because I care about you…more than anything or anyone.” I brush one of my thumbs over her soft, beautiful lips. “I love you, Max. I’d do anything to protect you.”

  Eyes shining with tears, she bends to press her lips against mine, surprising me with the sweep of her tongue. Until now, our kisses have been PG because I’ve always followed her lead. I hesitate to respond when she deepens the kiss and yanks my T-shirt upward.

  I gently push her back. “You’re tipsy. We should wait until you have a clear head.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” she insists, pulling her dress over her head.

  My entire body flushes warm with the site of her white cotton underwear on her thin legs and breasts cradled inside a plain white bra. “Maybe we should talk about it, Max. I mean…you know…the thing that⁠—”

  “Make love to me, Noah,” she pleads in the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard. She reaches for the front clasp on her bra. “I wanna know what it’s supposed to feel like.”

  My throat thickens. “Are you sure?”

  When her bra snaps open, she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and nods. “I think the wine gave me the courage to finally tell you what I want. This…with you…I want it. I want you.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper, gripping her waist.

  “You won’t,” she whispers back with a growing smile. With tears springing to her eyes, she takes my face inside her hands. “You’re the only one in my life who’s ever shown me what it’s like to be loved, Noah.”

  Together, we tug my shirt over my head before we resume making out. Once we’re both lying naked on the blanket, I ask several more times if she’s sure she wants to continue. The salt of our combined tears mingles with her sweet kisses.

  Finally, slowly, I make love to my girl beneath the pale moonlight.

  I wonder if I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  On the first day of my junior year and Max’s sophomore year, I enter the school with her hand firmly grasped inside mine. When the first set of classmates stare at us, I feel her trembling. “This is a bad idea, Noah.”

  “Everyone’s gonna be curious,” I say, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the first real girlfriend I’ve had. Let them stare all they want.”

  She begins to pull away. “But⁠—”

  I reel her in close for a quick kiss. She gives in a little, relaxing in my arms. “You’re my girl,” I whisper into her ear. “Nothing else matters.”

  “The hell is this?” Travis asks, nudging his way in beside us. His lips tilt with a smirk. “Is she the reason you blew me off all summer? What happened to bros before hoes?”

  I release Max to grab Travis by the throat and throw him up against the nearest wall. “Don’t you ever call her that again! You hear me?”

  “Dude, it’s just an expression!” he whines, holding his hands out at his sides. “I wasn’t calling her anything!”

  Aware I have the attention of the entire hallway full of students, I quickly release him to reclaim Max’s hand. “Max is my girl,” I announce in a loud voice. “Anyone who disrespects her is gonna have to answer to me.”

  Max is quiet as I lead her to her past the juniors to the sophomore hallway. As we pass Tara Harrison, she throws me a dark, dangerous look.

  Following football practice that early evening, as the team is returning to the bus and the field is only lit by the stadium lights, I catch a shadow stirring beneath the bleaches.

  It’s Max.

  I slap Travis’s shoulder pad. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Say hi to your girl from me,” he answers smartly.

  Letting the snarky comment roll off my shoulders, I jog over to Max. When I get closer, I realize she’s upset. Fear jolts through me. What if she’s here to tell me she’s being sent back to her mom’s?

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice urgent. “Did something happen?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about this morning,” she tells me. “You know, with your friend and everything.”

  “He’s an idiot,” I say, rubbing her arms. It’s freezing cold and she’s only wearing one of my flannel shirts over a T-shirt and dress. “It was nothing.”

  “It’s not that…it’s just…I don’t want you to feel like you always have to defend me. You could’ve just laughed it off, and no one would’ve thought anything more about us being together. But now…”

  “I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to draw attention to you.” When I catch the shine of tears in her eyes, I drop a kiss on the top of her head and rub her back. “Hey…why are you crying? Did someone say something to you after that?”

  “I don’t think you and I⁠—”

  “Don’t say it,” I interrupt, my voice cracking. “You can’t break up with me.”

  “Why can’t I?” she challenges, stepping back.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I grumble, combing a hand through my hair. “Look, I know something's going on with you that you don’t want to talk to me about,” I say, stepping closer to gather her chilled hands inside mine. “I’ve been doing some research at the library, and I think there might be something a doctor could prescribe—something that would help.”

  Her hands slip from mine. “Help what?”

  “With your moody…um…irritability or whatever. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Max. Especially after everything you’ve been through.”

  The dark glare she throws me cuts through my center. “What exactly do you think is wrong with me?”