The Hive Read online

  PRAISE FOR GREGG OLSEN

  THE HIVE

  “Mesmerizing! Gregg Olsen tautly reveals layer after layer of lies, secrets, and betrayals in an increasingly horrifying exposé of one cult leader and her terrible sway over others. Forget the evil men do. These women will have you fearing for your life.”

  —Lisa Gardner, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “The Hive is a riveting thriller, a tsunami of a story that starts out strong and absolutely knocks you over at the end. The characters are fascinating, their world so real and absorbing—I was transfixed from the very start. Gregg Olsen is such a compelling writer.”

  —Luanne Rice, New York Times bestselling author

  “In this gripping thriller, everything is not as it seems, and beauty is only skin deep. The Hive is a brilliantly engrossing read—exactly what we have come to expect from Gregg Olsen.”

  —Karin Slaughter, New York Times and internationally bestselling author

  “A charismatic wellness guru, a dead young journalist, and a slew of secrets are the ingredients that make up this fiendishly fun thriller. The Hive will have readers buzzing.”

  —Greer Hendricks, #1 New York Times bestselling coauthor of The Wife Between Us

  “Gregg Olsen’s The Hive is a fast-paced, intriguing, intense, and suspenseful read that is as creepy as it is fantastic. Brilliant, thought-provoking, heartbreaking, and original, The Hive will keep you up at night and leave you reeling long after you’ve finished it. Every page carries weight in this novel. There are plenty of twists and turns to satisfy even the most seasoned crime fiction reader, and the characters feel authentic and alive in ways that only Olsen can achieve.”

  —Lisa Regan, #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Detective Josie Quinn series

  “Die-hard Gregg Olsen fans will love The Hive; new readers will become fans. Olsen deftly guides the reader through the pages, cranking up the suspense as long-held secrets rise to the surface. The result is compulsively page turning as Olsen keeps the reader’s mind buzzing in suspense. He hooks the reader as a dark crime from the past collides with a crime from the present.”

  —Kendra Elliot, Wall Street Journal bestselling author

  “Gregg Olsen’s The Hive begins with a fascinating premise and a spellbinding opening scene that held me in its grip as I flew through the pages. Olsen expertly weaves together a multilayered tale told by a complex array of unforgettable characters in his latest jaw-dropping thriller. In this dark and dangerously addictive read buzzing with secrets, betrayal, and murder, queen bees and wannabes take on a whole new meaning. Not to be missed.”

  —Heather Gudenkauf, New York Times bestselling author of This Is How I Lied

  IF YOU TELL

  “This riveting account will leave readers questioning every odd relative they’ve known.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “Olsen presents the story chronologically and in a simple, straightforward style, which works well: it is chilling enough as is.”

  —Booklist

  “An unsettling stunner about sibling love, courage, and resilience.”

  —People (book of the week)

  “If You Tell accomplishes what it sets out to do. The result is a compelling portrait of terror and a powerfully honest, yet still sensitive, look at survival.”

  —Bookreporter

  “A true-crime tour de force.”

  —Steve Jackson, New York Times bestselling author of No Stone Unturned

  “Even the most devoted true-crime reader will be shocked by the maddening and mind-boggling acts of horror that Gregg Olsen chronicles in this book. Olsen has done it again, giving readers a glimpse into a murderous duo that’s so chilling, it will have your head spinning. I could not put this book down!”

  —Aphrodite Jones, New York Times bestselling author

  “There’s only one writer who can tell such an intensely horrifying, psychotic tale of unspeakable abuse, grotesque torture, and horrendous serial murder with grace, sensitivity and class . . . a riveting, taut, real-life psychological suspense thrill ride . . . all at once compelling and original, Gregg Olsen’s If You Tell is an instant true-crime classic.”

  —M. William Phelps, New York Times bestselling author

  “We all start life with immense promise, but in our first minute, we cannot know who’ll ultimately have the greatest impact on our lives, for better or worse. Here, Gregg Olsen—the heir apparent to legendary crime writers Jack Olsen and Ann Rule—explores the dark side of that question in his usual chilling, heartbreaking prose. Superb and creepy storytelling from a true-crime master.”

  —Ron Franscell, author of Alice & Gerald: A Homicidal Love Story

  “Bristling with tension, gripping from the first pages, Gregg Olsen’s masterful portrait of children caught in the web of a coldly calculating killer fascinates. A read so compelling it kept me up late into the night, If You Tell exposes incredible evil that lived quietly in small-town America. That the book is fact, not fiction, terrifies.”

  —Kathryn Casey, bestselling author of In Plain Sight

  “A suspenseful, horrific, and yet fascinating character study of an incredibly dysfunctional and dangerous family by Gregg Olsen, one of today’s true-crime masters.”

  —Caitlin Rother, New York Times bestselling author

  LYING NEXT TO ME

  “Lying Next to Me is a clever, chilling puzzle of a tale. A riveting, sharp-edged page-turner, it’s Gregg Olsen’s best book yet.”

  —A. J. Banner, USA Today bestselling author

  “A dark, claustrophobic thriller filled with twists and turns. A brilliant book.”

  —Caroline Mitchell, #1 international bestselling author

  “In Lying Next to Me, [Olsen] has given us a first-rate work of psychological complexity as well as a mystery that is full of twists and is quite a grabber.”

  —Popular Culture Association

  THE LAST THING SHE EVER DID

  “Gregg Olsen pens brilliant, creepy, page-turning, heart-pounding novels of suspense that always keep me up at night. In The Last Thing She Ever Did, he topped himself.”

  —Allison Brennan, New York Times bestselling author

  “Beguiling, wicked, and taut with suspense and paranoia, The Last Thing She Ever Did delivers scenes as devastating as any I’ve ever read with a startling, pitch-perfect finale. A reminder that evil may reside in one’s actions, but tragedy often spawns from one’s inaction.”

  —Eric Rickstad, New York Times bestselling author of The Silent Girls

  “Olsen’s latest examines how a terrible, split-second decision has lingering effects, and the past echoes the present. Full of unexpected twists, The Last Thing She Ever Did will keep you guessing to the last line.”

  —J. T. Ellison, New York Times bestselling author of Lie to Me

  “Master storyteller Gregg Olsen continues to take readers hostage with another spellbinding tale of relentless, pulse-pounding suspense.”

  —Rick Mofina, international bestselling author of Last Seen

  “Tense. Well-crafted. Gripping.”

  —Mary Burton, New York Times bestselling author

  “With The Last Thing She Ever Did, Gregg Olsen delivers an edgy, tension-filled, roller-coaster ride of a novel that will thrill and devastate in equal measure.”

  —Linda Castillo, New York Times bestselling author

  ALSO BY GREGG OLSEN

  FICTION

  Silent Ridge

  Water’s Edge

  Snow Creek

  Lying Next to Me

  The Weight of Silence

  The Last Thing She Ever Did

  The Sound of Rain

  Just Try to Stop Me

  Now That She’s Gone


  The Girl in the Woods

  The Girl on the Run

  Shocking True Story

  Fear Collector

  Beneath Her Skin

  The Bone Box (novella)

  Dying to Be Her

  Closer Than Blood

  Victim Six

  Heart of Ice

  A Wicked Snow

  A Cold Dark Place

  NONFICTION

  If You Tell: A True Story of Murder, Family Secrets, and the Unbreakable Bond of Sisterhood

  A Killing in Amish Country: Sex, Betrayal, and a Cold-Blooded Murder

  A Twisted Faith: A Minister’s Obsession and the Murder That Destroyed a Church

  The Deep Dark: Disaster and Redemption in America’s Richest Silver Mine

  Starvation Heights: A True Story of Murder and Malice in the Woods of the Pacific Northwest

  Cruel Deception: The True Story of Multiple Murder and Two Devastated Families

  If Loving You Is Wrong: The Teacher and Student Sex Case That Shocked the World

  Abandoned Prayers: An Incredible True Story of Murder, Obsession, and Amish Secrets

  Bitter Almonds: The True Story of Mothers, Daughters, and the Seattle Cyanide Murders

  Bitch on Wheels: The True Story of Black Widow Killer Sharon Nelson

  If I Can’t Have You: Susan Powell, Her Mysterious Disappearance, and the Murder of Her Children

  The Confessions of an American Black Widow

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2021 by Gregg Olsen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542016469

  ISBN-10: 1542016460

  Cover design by Rex Bonomelli

  For Chris Renfro,

  simply the best. Really. Truly.

  CONTENTS

  START READING

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  A week after . . .

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Beauty is more than a skin-deep issue. Our outer covering is our calling card. In order to feel great, to do great things, we need to understand that undeniable truth. Everything I’ve ever done has been to help others in a world that judges them every second of the day.

  —Marnie Spellman, Dateline NBC

  PROLOGUE

  Late summer 2019

  Whatcom County, Washington

  Only days apart and a few miles from each other, two women read the same pages from their copies of a dog-eared memoir. One found it among her mother’s things. The other borrowed a reading copy from an archive. They’d highlighted passages with yellow or pink markers. Scribbled notations and a blizzard of question marks splattered foxed pages as they ruminated over the veracity of Marnie Spellman’s story. At each turn of a page, they questioned the reliability of every word in The Insatiable Heart. One of the readers sought answers for things that happened when she was only a girl. The other studied the book for insight into the mind of the writer.

  Over and over, even when the unthinkable transpired, the book served as a guide, then an arrow sharply pointed at their hearts, vexing and urging at the same time.

  My parents were running errands for the afternoon on the mainland, and my brother and I were left to work on the farm. Dad had insisted that we muck out all the stalls and, for added measure, change out the straw in the chicken coop. I detested those tasks and was sure that my parents left it for me to do while they were away just so they’d be out of earshot when I complained. Casey was six at that time and, quite frankly, of very little help. That’s not to say that he didn’t try, but as usual, the lion’s share of what needed to be done fell on me. It always did. Added to that, of course, was my mother’s edict that I needed to weed the garden and clean the kitchen floor.

  “Until it sparkles and shines, Marnie.”

  I respected her. I guess it had more to do with her role than how she treated me. The singsong quality of her commands always put me on edge.

  Casey told me he was tired of helping—which, of course, he wasn’t really at all—and we decided to take a break by the overlook, the highest point on our property, crowned by a trio of old-growth cedars I named the Supremes after my mom’s favorite musical group. I brought sandwiches and apples.

  Later, I’d be blamed for the choices I made that afternoon—that maybe things would have been different if I’d brought bologna instead of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. That maybe the soap that Mom had made started it all. It was lavender from our own herb garden, triple milled by the both of us. And later there would be those who said it was all a lie.

  Casey saw the swarm first.

  We were lying on our backs, looking at the sky and feeling the breeze as it filtered through the green fringe of the canopy.

  “Look up there!” Casey called out. There was both excitement and fear in his voice.

  I followed my brother’s frozen gaze. It appeared above us, first as a dark cloud, then as a heaving and undulant mass of something that I couldn’t identify at first. It was the noise that told me. Bees. It was morphing into shapes that at once stirred and then mocked me.

  A running horse like the weather vane on our barn.

  A sea star from the beach.


  An archway like the one at the church we attended on Christmas Eve and Easter, the sum of my religious upbringing.

  As I peered at it, I felt as if I were falling. Maybe rising. Something. It was as if gravity had ceased to exist. As if Newton’s apple had floated instead of fallen. I could hear my brother calling my name, but even that receded to silence. I was flying. I was drifting. It was the strangest sensation. One that could never be duplicated. It was like I was inside a kazoo. Tissue paper over my face, a slight dampness blowing over my skin. A soft humming lifting me skyward, then swirling me toward the sun.

  Up.

  Then down.

  I remember thinking that I had died. Not sure how. Whatever was happening, I knew the experience was transformative, unearthly. I was only a vessel of thought and memory being carried away.

  Can you understand?

  Do you even dare?

  The Insatiable Heart

  Marnie Spellman

  CHAPTER 1

  Monday, September 9, 2019

  Whatcom County, Washington

  Renae Jones pushed the denim-blue stroller along the damp trail. One of the front wheels, clogged with mud from a late-summer rain, was stuck in a position that made the effort more difficult than it needed to be. Add it to the list. Everything about being a mother was harder than she thought it needed to be. Sleepless nights. Baby bawling, caterwauling. A yearning for time to speed toward the moment when reason or bribery would elicit the kind of response she longed for in the child. Quiet. That was all. Peace. Stillness.

  Renae sucked in forest air, strained with more effort, and kept moving the stroller onward. She wore earbuds, but there was no music filling her ears. No podcast. Nothing. Indeed, the earbuds weren’t even connected to her phone; their cord ran to the zippered pocket of her jacket. She wore them purely as a defense mechanism. The last thing she needed was company, an audience for her agony.

  She prayed that the pills her doctor had given her would break her out of the endless sulk that had consumed her since Carson was born. The last six months had shown her the worst of the demands on a young mother.

  She shook her head at the thought of how her mother and her friends had told her that being a mom was the greatest joy she would ever know. That was a lie, a trick. The kind of thing that someone says because you’re suddenly in a club in which there is no real understanding of what is involved after the parties, after the well-wishes, after the pretty blue and white ribbons are undone and the gift wrapping removed and the boxes opened. The initiation into the club had been a blur of fragrant peonies and golden sponge cake with Mount Baker–sized peaks of white icing.