“This has gone too far,” I say, releasing the last knot. “Beth can’t be trusted. She could’ve killed him.”

  Noah springs from the chair and pulls me into his arms. “She was only trying to protect you,” he says, stopping to press a long kiss against my temple. “She was convinced I was cheating on you, but I told her I haven’t been with Britta since she learned she was pregnant, and I had nothing to do with Linda. I think Beth finally realized I was telling the truth.”

  Huffing, Gabby shakes her head. “I’m starting to understand why you two are perfect for each other. You’re both nuts.” She aims the gun at Noah. “You may have conned that Beth chick into believing you, but I still think you did it. I think you killed Brit and Linda.”

  My belly twists in half when it dawns on me that she could be right. We still don’t know who killed them. But if Noah had nothing to do with either of the women, who else would’ve wanted them dead?

  You know damn well who, a voice scolds.

  Taking a step closer to Noah, Gabby gives him a smug smile. “I have firsthand knowledge of how easy it is to get away with murder. Do you truly believe it was a mere coincidence that both of my wealthy husbands passed away, making me one of the richest bitches alive? I had the freaking mob after me for a hot minute, but I was able to convince them of my innocence.”

  “Wait—you seriously killed your husbands?” I ask, unable to mask my shock. “Gabby…”

  “Goes to show how easy it is to manipulate someone into thinking you’re innocent,” she replies. “Don’t think for a minute Romeo over here isn’t capable of doing the same.” She gestures his way with the gun. “You can stand there with your smoldering looks and profess your innocence to your hot, completely cuckoo wife all you want, but I’m not buying it.”

  A ruckus comes from upstairs. The door at the top of the stairway swings open, and a flurry of uniformed officers storm down the steps. Sheriff Jaros and Detective Kelly take the lead, both wearing Kevlar jackets.

  “Drop your weapon and get down on your knees!” Detective Kelly commands, aiming her gun at Gabby. She reaches the bottom step and slowly creeps in closer. “Don’t make me shoot you, Gabby! We can get you the help you need!”

  “Help?” Gabby shouts over her shoulder, waving the gun in our direction. “The only thing I need help with is putting this man behind bars! He slept with those poor women and killed them so they couldn’t blab about it to his wife!”

  “That’s not true!” Noah insists, stepping around me as a shield against the threat of impending gunfire.

  Detective Kelly shuffles in a little more. “Put the gun down, Gabby, and we’ll discuss the situation like civilized adults.”

  “I’m not the one you should be worried about,” Gabby pouts. “Why aren’t you arresting him?”

  “Because we recently received video footage from a restaurant in New York. He was meeting with clients at a hotel bar in Chelsea the night Britta was murdered. The camera captured a crystal-clear image that leaves no question of his identity. A waitress also confirmed he was there. She remembered her interaction with him because of the sizable tip he left. He couldn’t have killed Britta.”

  “Well…I…but…but…” Gabby stammers, glancing between Noah and me. Her arm relaxes, recklessly lowering the gun. “Then who did?”

  Detective Kelly pounces on Gabby, disarming her and pinning her face down on the concrete floor in one fluid move. “Gabby Gallo, you’re under arrest for the murders of John Williams and Paul Gallo. Anything you say⁠—”

  “Now, wait a minute!” Gabby pleads from beneath her, not bothering to fight as her hands are cuffed behind her back. “I was cleared for those years ago!”

  “New evidence came to light,” the detective tells her. “We’ll go through everything once you’re booked at the station.” She continues to recite Gabby’s rights.

  “I want my lawyer!” Gabby cries as two of the deputies help her back onto her feet. “Give me a phone so I can call my lawyer! When this is over, she’ll have every last one of your badges!”

  While everyone else in the room is tending to Gabby, Noah swipes the knife from our kitchen off the floor and slips it into his back jeans pocket.

  “Go ahead and take her in,” Detective Kelly tells the sheriff. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I want my lawyer! I want my lawyer! I want my lawyer!” Gabby chants like a child throwing a tantrum as they lead her up the stairway.

  Detective Kelly turns to us and briefly studies Noah’s neck. “What happened there?”

  “It got nicked in a scuffle with Gabby when she tied me to the chair,” he lies, dabbing at it with his fingertips. He then wraps me beneath his arm in a firm grip. “We’re just grateful you got here when you did, Detective.”

  Her gaze sweeps through the basement, pausing on the chair and rope. “I’m going to need you both to come to the Sheriff’s Station in Slayton to piece together what happened here tonight.”

  “Can it wait until morning?” Noah asks. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I suppose that would be alright,” she decides. Her gaze flips back and forth between us. “Just so you know, the B.C.A. determined it was most likely a woman who stabbed Britta. Not only that, the county’s medical examiner found traces of benzodiazepines in Linda Boese’s system. It’s the same drug Gabby’s second husband allegedly overdosed on.”

  A crippling cold washes over my bones.

  Gabby had given me several benzos when I couldn’t sleep.

  Detective Kelly’s observant gaze rolls onto me. “I don’t imagine it will be long until we can charge Gabby with both your cousin’s death and Linda’s.”

  “Thanks again for your help, Detective,” Noah tells her with a somewhat dismissive nod. “We’ll come to the station right away in the morning.”

  Detective Kelly gives me a thoughtful look like she’s about to say something more. After a beat, she nods and follows the deputies up the stairway.

  With a heavy sigh, Noah pulls me into his arms for a suffocating hug. “We can finally put this nightmare behind us.”

  “Gabby didn’t kill Brit and Linda,” I whisper against his shoulder.

  “It’s late.” He draws back with a loving smile, lacing his fingers around mine. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll discuss everything in the morning.”

  Refusing to give in when he tugs my hand, I firmly plant my feet. “I found Britta’s knife down here, stashed in the ceiling. At first, I thought maybe you did it, but it was her. Beth. Like you said, she was trying to protect me.”

  His gaze drifts down to the floor. “Max⁠—”

  Gasping, I yank my hand out from his and stumble back. “You knew, didn’t you? You hid the knife Beth used to cut you and lied about Gabby scratching you because you were afraid the detective would catch on to the truth.” I squeeze my hands into fists at my sides. “I can’t let Gabby go down for something I did.”

  “The hell you can’t!” Fire lights his eyes when he locks his fingers around my wrists. “It sounds like she’s already going away for killing her husbands. You heard her—she confessed to it! She’s going to prison anyway!” When I still refuse to budge, he lets out a harsh sigh. “Beth once told me you’re unaware of the things she does. I didn’t believe her until I found Britta’s knife stashed in the bottom of the garbage bin, covered in blood. I was certain she had killed your cousin as much as I was certain you didn’t have any involvement in the act. You didn’t kill them, Max. I refuse to let you take the fall for something Beth did! I won’t let you rot in some prison cell for this!”

  “What’s going to stop Beth from killing again? What if she becomes even more paranoid and begins to suspect you’re sleeping with every single woman you come into contact with?”

  “I’ll make damn sure she never hurts anyone again,” he declares with a determined look. “I’ll quit my job and we’ll move to some remote island in another country. I’ll hire the best psychiatrist specializing in D.I.D. to treat you. We can do this if we work together, Max. I can keep you safe.”

  “What if she tries to kill you? She held a knife to your neck, Noah. I have no idea of knowing whether she actually intended to kill you, but I can’t stand back and trust that she won’t do it again.” Eyes watering, I wiggle free from his grip to touch his face. “I couldn’t live with myself if she hurt you.”

  His jaw hardens when he shakes his head. “Do you hear yourself? You don’t know her intentions. That also means you’re not responsible for her actions. You shouldn’t have to suffer for her lack of control!”

  Extreme warmth spreads throughout my body. Since the day Noah stood up for me in the school hallway, I’ve cherished and adored him more than anyone who has come into my life. Before now, I was too afraid to classify those feelings, to express them with the proper words. Although it’s the kind of thing normal, healthy couples in a committed relationship tell each other, I’ve always associated the three little words with unfathomable darkness and depravity.

  Tears spill down my cheeks as I reach up to frame his face with my hands. “I love you, Noah. I’m sorry I’ve never told you before, even though it’s always been true. Those words…he used to say them to me before⁠—”

  “You can’t leave me again,” he interrupts, his voice breaking. “Please, sweetheart. Don’t do this. We’ve already wasted decades because I wasn’t man enough to help you when you needed me the first time. I’m not going to let you walk away from me again without putting up a fight!”

  I silence him with a kiss. I can’t expect him to agree with my decision.

  I can only hope that by turning myself in, I’ll protect him from the monster inside.

  And I know she’s listening.

  The too-familiar feeling that we’re being watched slithers down my spine.

  26

  THE NIGHT OF BRITTA’S DEATH

  Beth

  One night while Noah’s away on business, I decide it’s time to finally reveal myself to Britta. As often as we’ve met, she’s never seen me in my purest form. I apply my favorite shade of scarlet lipstick and wiggle into a corset with snakeskin leggings before headin' out for the girls’ night Maxine had marked on her calendar.

  A sliver of the moon provides the smallest amount of light as I row across the bay to her monstrosity of a house, glowin' from dozens of lights within. The bitch is on clear display as she makes her way around the minimalist kitchen, precisely as intended when she’d drawn up the house plans.

  Britta Baxter thrives beneath the limelight, whether online or in person. Her only wish in life is to be worshipped.

  I’ve never understood how Maxine can tolerate her cousin’s behavior.

  Once I’ve tied the boat to the dock, I saunter upstairs to the kitchen. “Hello, Britta,” I sneer. “Time to teach you a little lesson.”

  “What are you talking about?” She glances up to eye my blond hair and bursts out laughing. “Oh…my god!” she wheezes, cradlin' her stomach as tears stream down her cheeks. “Max! You look ridiculous!”

  “My name’s not Max,” I drawl, stridin' toward her in 4-inch stilettos.

  Once her amusement is under control, she begins to pour two glasses of Prosecco while slowly shakin' her head. “I don’t know what’s up with the wig and accent, but I’m sure Noah would love that slutty outfit and the lipstick.” Grinnin', she throws me a wink. “Maybe there’s a chance you won’t die alone after all, Max.”

  “I’m not Max,” I repeat. “Maxine is weak. I’m tired of watchin' her get pushed around by you.”

  “What are you talking about?” she scoffs, setting the bottle down. Her grin turns into a frown. “I’m used to the psycho bit with that accent, but this is a bit extreme.”

  “The name’s Beth.”

  Her eyes grow wider. “Wait. Are you saying that time I walked into your house and heard Noah having wild sex, he was calling you that name?”

  “Yes, you twit. Try to keep up.”

  When I stride next to her and snatch one of the glasses, her eyes scan down my skin-tight leggings.

  “So the name’s just part of some kinky game between the two of you?”

  “It’s much more than that,” I assure her in a sultry voice. “I first came around when Maxine was a little girl…back when her poor brain couldn’t deal with the sick and twisted things her evil mother allowed to happen. I’m here to protect her from any other evil that comes into her life—includin' you.”

  Her lips curl with a small smile. So what…you’re some kind of schizophrenic? That’s what’s been wrong with you all these years?”

  Knowin' the truth is too complex for her tiny brain, I laugh sharply. “You aren’t gonna deny you’re evil? You’re the only relative remainin’ in Maxine’s life. You could’ve been there for her, but instead, you chose to create a toxic relationship with her from the beginnin’.”

  “Toxic?” Her eyes roll to the ceilin'. “Don’t be ridiculous. I care about you, Max. I’ve always looked out for you, haven’t I?”

  With a hand on my hip, I shake my head. “Are you going to stand there and pretend you haven’t pursued every single man to come into Maxine’s life?”

  Liftin' her chin, she looks down at me over the bridge of her narrow nose. “It’s not my fault they found me more attractive.”

  “You’re so vain, Britta. After all the surgeries and becomin’ a social media star, you’re still worried you’re not receivin’ the proper attention.” Bracin' one arm beneath my breasts, I take a sip of the bubbly drink and smirk. “So you’re claimin’ Noah chose you over Maxine because you were better lookin’?”

  “He couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”

  “Was that before or after you drugged him?”

  Lips pressed in a white line, she snags the other glass of Prosecco. “Good luck proving that.” She chugs it down in one breath before pourin' herself another glass. “Listen, Max, or Beth, or whatever the hell name your psycho ass⁠—”

  “When Noah refused to be involved with you a second time, you drugged him after you stopped takin' your birth control. You figured he’d have to stick around if you became pregnant. And when that plan backfired, you went after Maxine’s new boyfriend and tricked him into thinkin’ he was the father. You were willin’ to do whatever it took to hurt Maxine the most.”

  Redness seeps into her complexion. “Oliver made the first move. He was bored with your crazy ass and was looking for a release. I merely knocked on your apartment door one night. He was all over me the second he answered.”

  “You knew Maxine was workin’ that day. Oliver later told her that you came to their apartment wearin’ a raincoat and nothin’ else. You made your intentions clear from the start.” I set my empty glass down with a snort. “You did Maxine a favor with that one.” I pour myself another glass. “Aside from you tryin’ to convince Noah to have sex again after Maxine returned, that leaves us with good ol’ Rog. I suppose you were especially eager to get your hands on him once you realized Max might actually be in love.”

  “Roger came to me after he suspected something was wrong. When you first started acting all moody, he figured you were pregnant. Then he found your birth control pills and realized you’d been lying to him. He was so upset—I thought he was going to break something. I held him until he stopped trembling with rage. One thing led to another…and that’s when you walked in.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” I ask, leanin' in close until our noses almost touch. “You’re tryin’ to make everythin’ you did with those men sound innocent. In reality, you’re nothin’ more than a sociopath.”

  “You never deserved a happy ending!” she sneers, spittle flying from her lips. “It’s your fault my dad left us! I had to grow up without knowing a father’s love. If it weren’t for you and your whore of a mom⁠—”

  “Your dad sexually abused an innocent child!” I yell back. “Nothing about him leaving you was Maxine’s fault! She was the only real victim in all of this! Your momma and Maxine’s momma both knew what was goin' on, and neither of them did a damn thing to stop it!”

  When she only appears annoyed by my declaration, blindin’ rage zips beneath my skin. I slip a knife from the butcher block on the counter beside me. “I’m sick and tired of you punishin’ Maxine for somethin’ she had no control over!” My fingers vibrate around the knife when I raise it.

  With an expression of terror, Britta raises her hands. “What are you doing? Max, put that down! Stop it! You’re scaring me!”

  With a deep scowl, I start for her. “I’m gonna make sure you’re done ruinin’ Maxine’s life once and for all.”

  EPILOGUE

  6 Months Later

  Detective Josephine Kelly

  Silence blankets the Minnesota Security Hospital as I hand my service weapon and badge to a guard. “I haven’t been here in a while,” I comment. “Can’t say I remember it being this quiet.”

  The stout woman lifts her shoulders, appearing unceremoniously bored by her occupation. “Most of the patients are outside, playing in the snow. The rest are in session with their psychiatrists.” She doesn’t look away from her computer monitor when she returns the manilla envelope I’d also handed over for inspection. “You’re all set.”

  The woman buzzes me through the locked doors. I start down the long, tiled hallway, dotted with several sets of elemental doorways a mere moment before I spot the person I came to see.

  A lithe, curly-haired brunette with a heavy dose of freckles dotting her pale skin stands before me, reviewing a chart clipped to the wall. Having researched Dr. Laura Scanlan extensively, I recognize the woman from various pictures posted online. Dr. Scanlan graduated in the top 2% of her graduating class at Johns Hopkins and has received countless awards throughout her tenure as a respected psychiatrist. She’s a renowned advocate for patients with dissociative identity disorder, having presented at numerous mental health symposiums and universities all across the country.