A disturbing reality settles in my bones once I’m backing my Mercedes out from the 3-stall garage.

  Detective Kelly never mentioned the method by which Britta was killed. I assumed she’d been either knocked out or held underwater before she drowned.

  Why does Noah think she was stabbed?

  9

  24 MONTHS EARLIER

  Maxine

  The Friday evening after reuniting with Noah on the beach, I head down to Britta’s dock right as he’s crossing the still bay. My knowledge of speed boats might fill a thimble, but I’m well aware his must be considered luxurious based on those we’ve seen around the lake all week. Its dark color and sleek shape suit Noah’s exceptional looks. Twin engines purr when he races past a flock of birds, shooting a delightful thrill into my bones.

  I was initially worried he’d become an arrogant Playboy of sorts. But that opinion quickly changed after Britta and I spent the last several evenings with him at Pelican Cove, the lakeside bar on the north end of their bay. He wasn’t as flirtatious or boisterous, and he made me laugh countless times until tears rolled down my cheeks. It was like the past 30 years had never happened.

  After landing the boat parallel to the dock, he takes my empty hand as I step barefoot onto the deep aft deck with my sandals in my other hand. Britta had insisted I wear one of her low-cut sundresses with a high slit exposing one leg. By the way Noah’s intent gaze takes in my curled hair before dusting over the dress, he must appreciate my decision to take her advice.

  He makes a pair of tan khakis and a black, fitted polo shirt even more tantalizing than the swim trunks he’d worn the other day. It’s difficult to swallow when I recall the sight of his firm stomach and tanned, muscular chest.

  My knees weaken when his warm lips brush over my cheek and I’m surrounded by a cloud of his rich cologne. “You look…wow.” He backs away, grinning. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved,” I admit with a nervous smile.

  I perch on the passenger’s seat, and we return to his side of the lake in a blink of an eye. Once the boat is secured to his dock, he gives me a brief tour of his house while the chef prepares our dinner.

  With every detail Noah explains, it occurs to me that he’s even more wealthy than Britta had insinuated. I’m so pleased to witness his success that my cheeks soon hurt from grinning.

  The stone countertops were brought in from Rome. The master bathtub, with a hundred individual jets, from Paris. The rustic beams were reclaimed from an old barn. The rafters had to be reinforced to support the weight of the colossal fireplace stones laid from floor to ceiling. Almost everything was custom-made.

  I don’t sense he’s trying to impress me. I believe he’s genuinely proud of his beautiful home, as he should be.

  Once we begin a candlelit dinner on one of many paved levels of patios in his backyard, I remember all the reasons I adored him as a teenager. As we dine on edamame and cabbage soup before we’re served sushi prepared several different ways, he’s attentive to my every need. He doesn’t ask about my past. Instead, he provides updates on his family and tells me the details of the company that made him wealthy.

  After dinner, we head to the north side of the lake in his boat. I take my time in admiring him when he’s focused on steering around the other boats out for a night cruise. There’s something about a firm jaw with a perpetual “day-old” stubble that I find maddeningly attractive, especially on a man Noah’s age. If nothing sexual happens and I never see him again, I’ll be able to rely on the memory of him perched on the captain’s seat in a modelesque pose to keep me warm at night.

  We return to the center of his bay as the sun’s setting. The lake’s glass-like surface reflects the sky’s pinkish gold hue tinged with streaks of purple. His stately house in the distance glows from landscaping lights all around the property, its colossal bay windows and peaked roof appearing fortress-like.

  Noah kills the engines. We slowly drift along, enjoying the peaceful night with Joe Bonamassa’s smooth voice and the chirp of frogs as our soundtrack.

  Tears spring to my eyes when I’m all at once reminded of the magical night we shared as teenagers under the same sky.

  Something extra special had developed between us. And I ruined it.

  “Are you alright?” Noah asks, his voice gentle. He leans in close enough to touch.

  Using the back of my hand, I swipe the moisture from my eyes. “Thanks for this evening,” I tell him, attempting a smile. “That sushi, the boat ride, this sunset…it’s all truly spectacular. I’m glad I agreed to come out with you.”

  “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the day we ran into each other at the beach. I’m sorry if I came on kind of strong.” He ducks his chin in a bashful gesture. “Sometimes I feel the urge to exert my masculinity around Britta.”

  “She can be intimidating.”

  “I’ve missed you,” he blurts, his expression all at once heavy with regret. “I missed us. Every day since you left. I wondered where you went, what you were doing with your life.” His eyes glisten in the moonlight. “I was so worried about you, Max.”

  Wild beats of my heart rattle my entire body. How do I respond? Simply because I missed him just as much doesn’t mean we should’ve kept in touch. It doesn’t mean we should’ve stayed together.

  His fingertips brush over my cheek. “You seem happy….maybe even healed. Are you?”

  I press my lips together. How does he expect me to answer? Does he want me to lie and say the nightmares have gone away? Does he want me to pretend that after I left him, I lived out a happily ever after?

  “Let’s not ruin a nice evening,” I say, pulling his hand away from my face. “Everything that happened in the past should stay there, Noah.” At a loss for any more words, I sip from the tumbler of wine he’d poured before we left the house. “Britta tells me you’ve been married a couple of times. Do you have any children?”

  Disappointment in my non-answer flashes in his eyes before they wander across the bay. “I wanted children for a few years, but after becoming CEO of Innovative Securities, I realized it wouldn't be fair to them if I was always away on meetings.” He’s quiet for a minute, reflecting on his choices before his eyes return to me. “What about you? Any exes? Kids?”

  “One ex-husband, no children. I met Roger after I graduated from the U of M. He was friends with Oliver.”

  I don’t provide a reason for our breakup or expound on the fact that I stayed on birth control when Roger thought we were actively attempting to conceive. My therapist at the time fully supported my decision. I simply wasn’t willing to bring an innocent being into the world. I won’t ever be.

  “I’m glad you made it to the U,” he tells me. “I know how much you wanted to become a nurse.” He takes a swig from his tumbler of wine. “I’m glad you agreed to come out with me tonight, Max. I know your cousin more or less steamrolled you into the idea.”

  “It’s nothing personal,” I admit, flashing a guilty grimace. “I’m just not much into dating.” Life’s a lot less complicated without having to hide the details of my complicated life from someone close to me.

  “I’m glad Britta backed out. I wanted you all to myself. I know you have a flight out tomorrow, but I’d enjoy another chance to spend time with you—the adult you.”

  Brushing a strand of my hair behind my bare shoulder, his warm fingers linger against my neck. It’s something he did a hundred times when we were kids. “In all this time, I haven’t met anyone I enjoy being around as much as I enjoyed being with you.”

  Hundreds of memories from all the times I visited his parents’ house come flooding back with his touch. He told me he loved me. Violent flutters of anticipation erupt in my belly as I attempt to swallow.

  “You’re still so unassuming,” he explains, “exactly the way I remember you. Most women are all over me, hoping to enjoy the benefits of my wealth. Yeah, it’s different because we’ve known each other since high school, but when I gave you the tour of my house tonight, you seemed…proud. I could feel it.” With a charming smile, he cups my neck. “And you’re so damn beautiful, Max. I’m drawn to the attractive woman you became every bit as much as anything else. I genuinely enjoy every minute we’re together.”

  Until now, I didn’t realize my complex feelings for him hadn’t wavered.

  Once he realized I wasn’t like other girls for a long list of unsettling reasons, he was still kind and patient with me.

  “What do you want from me, Noah?” I whisper, fighting against a rush of tears. “Like you said, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Is there a reason you have to go back?” he asks.

  I shrug half-heartedly. “Work.”

  Noah shakes his head like he’s disappointed in my answer. “The other night, you told me you hate your job. Life’s too short to do something that makes you unhappy.”

  A sharp laugh bubbles from my lips. “Not everyone has the luxury of doing whatever they want, Noah. I have a steep rent to pay…and other bills.”

  “Have you ever thought of moving out of Chicago and starting somewhere new, maybe take up nursing again?” With a grin that I feel in my toes, he sweeps his thumb over the slit in the dress that reveals my bare thigh. “You’d easily find a decent house around here with the amount you spend on rent in the city. And last I heard, the local clinic needs more nurses.”

  While I became a registered nurse because I wanted to help people, my role with the hospital has transformed into something different. Still, I choose not to explain how I had actually removed myself from working the hospital floor.

  “You’re suggesting I uproot my life and relocate to rural Minnesota?” I clarify, my eyes growing wide. “Who does that?”

  His grin becomes enduringly crooked. “Why not? Is there someone in Chicago you’d miss? A boyfriend, or⁠—”

  “There’s no one,” I assure him with a quick shake of my head. I don’t even have friends.

  My duties are remote enough that I could possibly continue to perform them while living in another state. At least until something else comes along. Still…

  His fingers continue to trace a circle against my skin. “I bet your cousin would let you stay with her until you got on your feet and found your own place.”

  “What you’re suggesting is crazy,” I tell him.

  “Is it, though?” He slides his hand over mine, linking our fingers together. His touch against my palm sends a sweep of pleasant warmth shooting down to my toes. As he moves in closer, his eyes become hooded. “If you lived here, we’d be able to spend more time together. Like tonight. Or, if you want, we could hang out like we did in the old days, only instead of VCR tapes in a dingy basement, we’d watch movies in my theatre room on the big screen.” A boyish grin twists his lips. “But I’m not inviting anyone else to hang with us as a buffer this time.”

  Swept away by nostalgia, my lungs give a little squeeze. “That does sound tempting.”

  Now mere inches away, his tongue wets his lips. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” he whispers. “I miss the taste of that beautiful mouth.”

  “We barely know each other,” I wheeze, woozy with desire. “We’re different people.”

  “No, we aren’t,” he insists with the start of a sad smile. “Deep down, we’re the same sixteen and seventeen-year-old who cared deeply for each other.”

  I want to believe him and trust that he’s right. But I’m afraid of what will happen if I let myself fall for him a second time. Still, something about his heated gaze convinces me to give in. He still loves me.

  “Okay,” I rasp.

  He leans in to brush my lips with his, cautiously caressing them as if asking another question.

  Shivers spread down my spine.

  It’s not due to the sudden and overwhelming desire for this handsome man—my old friend.

  We’re being watched.

  The next day, I return to Chicago as planned.

  I only stay long enough to get my affairs in order.

  10

  21 MONTHS EARLIER

  Maxine

  Noah’s lake-side home, soon to be mine as well, is already bustling with caterers, decorators, florists, and photographers when the doorbell chimes.

  Although everyone had arrived before the sun, I was already awake, unable to sleep without Noah at my side. He’d reserved the basement of the neighbor’s rental home for himself and his groomsmen, wanting to follow the tradition of not seeing his bride until the ceremony.

  Sometimes I want to pinch myself. How did someone like me manage to reconnect with an old flame who has become both ridiculously romantic and exceptionally handsome? I don’t deserve him.

  I was relieved when he expressed a desire for an intimate ceremony on his lawn with only our closest friends. I didn’t want an elaborate white dress in a church where I’d be forced to confess “my love” in front of hundreds of strangers the first time. Roger’s catholic mother had insisted on it.

  Roger’s family was shocked when I didn’t invite anyone other than Britta and Oliver. I can only imagine my ex-in-laws’ dismay when they realized how much money they’d blown on a wedding destined to fail from the beginning.

  Since Noah’s mother passed from a stroke several years back and his feeble father didn’t think he could make the trip from his retirement condominium in Fort Myers, his sister, Shelly, is his only family member in attendance.

  I was admittedly nervous about reuniting with her until Noah explained she’d become an acclaimed stylist in Los Angeles and wanted to do the bridal party’s hair and makeup.

  When the doorbell chimes again, I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why isn’t anyone answering the door?” I ask.

  Behind me, Shelly teases my brown curls with a comb. Although Noah had requested I wear my hair down to flow over my bare shoulders, she insists on a complicated up-do that wouldn’t go flat from the lake’s infamous gusts of wind.

  “Let someone else get it,” Shelly tells me. “I need at least another twenty minutes with you.”

  “I’ll get it!” Gabby offers, setting her empty flute of champagne next to the mess of styling products littering the vanity.

  I giggle as my friend scurries barefoot from the master bathroom, rollers bouncing in her bleached blond hair, the satin pink robe I’d gifted each of my bridesmaids gaping open. The deep valley between her massive breasts and a hint of her round, “menopausal belly,” as she calls it, are fully on display when she slips out of sight.

  I adore how she projects herself with the same confidence and ease as Britta. In the short time since we met, I’ve learned to embrace my less-than-perfect body and its flaws. It also helps that my future husband worships my body like I’m the most beautiful woman in existence.

  I’ll admit, Gabby was added as a bridesmaid only because Noah told me I had to have three bridesmaids to offset the three buddies he’d hand-selected to stand up with him. Since I have yet to make other friends in the area, Gabby was my only choice. Still, I’m convinced it’s not something I’ll regret anytime soon.

  “She’s a riot,” Shelly comments.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Britta tells her with a snigger. “Wait until she gets drunk later. She’ll be a total shit-show on heels.” Britta rises from the director’s style chair at my side and snags the champagne bottle from the stand filled with ice, topping off all 3 flutes of champagne. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married again, Max. I was convinced you’d die alone, surrounded by a hoard of annoying cats who wouldn’t think twice about eating their master.”

  “That’s a mean thing to say to your cousin,” Shelly comments while twisting a lock of my hair behind my ear and pinning it in place. “Max, our mom would’ve been so pleased to see you and Noah finally end up together. I realize I don’t know you like before, but you’re a total knockout. My brother is one lucky man.”

  With such high praise from someone like her, my cheeks burn hot. Shelly is at least six feet tall with bright green eyes that appear cartoonish with liner and eyeshadow. Her hair’s shaved short on one side, bleached colorless on the other.

  I worry my sleeveless, open-back wedding dress won’t hold a candle to her fashionable off-white tunic with wide-legged pants. “You were always too kind to me,” I say.

  “You’re right, you don’t know her anymore,” Britta snaps, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “She would’ve died happy with those flesh-eating cats.”

  Truthfully, I was equally as surprised when I accepted Noah’s proposal only a month into our second courtship. The moment he got down on one knee and asked feels like something out of a dream—all muffled voices and fuzzy edges. It’s almost as if I was someone else, watching it happen from above.

  Britta snags her phone from the disarray covering the vanity and starts for the door. “I’m going to try calling Taylor again. I can’t believe that little brat is too hungover to get her hair done in time for her own godmother’s wedding.”

  “You’re the one who insisted everyone take shots last night,” I remind her before she’s gone from sight.

  As I sip my champagne, Shelly’s green gaze meets mine in the mirror. “No offense, but your cousin seems nicer on social media.”

  “She has her moments,” I say with a slight shrug. “She’s probably the most hungover of anyone. She’s just a pro at hiding it.” I’m sure there’s far more to Britta’s sour mood, but I won’t confide in my new sister-in-law.

  Gabby pops back into the room, panting. “Uh, Max, sweetie, your mom is here.” She holds a hand next to her mouth and adds in a stage whisper, “I think she’s a wee bit drunk.”

  A hollow spot in the pit of my stomach churns. I hadn’t told my mother about the engagement, hoping to avoid the exact scenario I’m now facing.

  Since Britta had boasted on social media about her cousin getting married in the same neighborhood in which they’d spent their summers together, I’m sure it wasn’t hard for a busybody like my mother to piece together the remaining details. I once considered changing my name so she couldn’t find me, but with Britta’s involvement, it wouldn’t have mattered.