Was it time to take their relationship to the next level?
She didn’t know, but for now, she thought, nestling into his arms, she wasn’t going to overthink it. She heard the dog give off the soft yips of a puppy dream from his bed, and O’Keefe chuckled, deep in his throat.
It was, she admitted to herself, a sound she could live with for a very long time.
From t(he #1 New York Times bestselling author
Lisa Jackson comes a gripping novel of suspense in
which a mother’s worst fear is only the beginning of
a terrifying nightmare ...
In Ava’s dreams, her son, Noah, looks just the way she remembers him: a sweet two-year-old in rolled-up jeans and a red sweatshirt. When Ava wakes, the agonizing truth hits her all over again. Noah went missing two years ago, and his body has never been found. Almost everyone, including Ava’s semi-estranged husband, Wyatt, assumes the boy drowned after falling off the dock near their Church Island home.
Ava has spent most of the past two years in and out of Seattle mental institutions, shattered by grief and unable to recall the details of Noah’s disappearance. Now she’s back at Neptune’s Gate, the family estate she once intended to restore to its former grandeur. Slowly, her strength is returning. But as Ava’s mind comes back into focus, her suspicions grow. Despite their apparent concern, Ava can’t shake the feeling that her family, and her psychologist, know more than they’re saying. But are they really worried for her well-being—or anxious about what she might discover?
Unwilling to trust those around her, Ava secretly visits a hypnotist to try and restore her memories. But the strange visions and night terrors keep getting worse. Ava is sure she’s heard Noah crying in the nursery, and glimpsed him walking near the dock. Is she losing her mind, or is Noah still alive? Ava won’t stop until she gets answers, but the truth is more dangerous than she can imagine. And the price may be more than she ever thought to pay ...
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Lisa Jackson’s newest novel,
YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW,
coming next month wherever hardcover books are sold!
Prologue
Again, the dream creeps in.
It’s a foggy, gray day and I’m in the kitchen, on the phone, talking to someone ... but that part changes. Sometimes it’s my husband, Wyatt; other times it’s Tanya, and sometimes it’s my mother, though I know she’s been dead a long, long time. But that’s how it is... .
From the family area, the room right next to the kitchen, here in this house, I hear the television, soft cartoon voices speaking, and I know that Noah’s playing with his toys on the rug in front of the flat screen.
I’ve baked some bread—the kitchen is still warm from the oven—and I’m thinking about Thanksgiving. As I glance out the window, I notice that it’s nearly dark outside, dusk at hand. It must be cold, too, as the trees shiver in the wind, a few stubborn leaves hanging on to thin, skeletal branches. Across the bay, the town of Anchorville is invisible, shrouded by fog.
But inside this old mansion, the one my great-great-grandfather built, it’s cozy.
Safe.
Smelling of cinnamon and nutmeg.
And then, from the corner of my eye, I see movement outside. It’s Milo, our cat, I think, but I remember that Milo, a prince of a tabby, is dead. Has been for years.
I squint, suddenly fearful. It’s hard to see through the fog rolling in from the sea, but I know something’s out there, in the yard, behind the hedgerow of roses where the scraggly bushes are thin and bedraggled, a few shriveled petals visible in the dead blooms and thorns.
Creeeaaaak!
My skin crawls as a shadow passes near the porch.
For the briefest of seconds, I fear there’s something evil lurking just beyond the arrow-shaped spikes of the surrounding wrought-iron fence.
Creeeaaaak! Bang! The gate’s open, swinging in the buffeting wind.
That’s when I catch a glimpse of Noah, my son, in his little hooded sweatshirt and rolled-up jeans. He’s gotten out of the house somehow and wandered through the open gate. Now, in the twilight, he’s running joyfully, as if he’s chasing something, down the path to the dock.
“NO!”