The Forgotten Girl - Softcover

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David Bell is a USA Today bestselling, award-winning author whose work has been translated into multiple foreign languages. He’s currently an associate professor of English at Western Kentucky University in Bowling Green, Kentucky, where he directs the MFA program. He received an MA in creative writing from Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, and a PhD in American literature and creative writing from the University of Cincinnati. His novels include Layover, Somebody’s Daughter, Bring Her Home, Since She Went Away, Somebody I Used to Know, The Forgotten Girl, Never Come Back, The Hiding Place, and Cemetery Girl.

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PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF DAVID BELL

ALSO BY DAVID BELL

For Molly

Prologue

The detective came into the room. He wore a sport coat and tie, the collar of his shirt open. He didn’t look at Jason. He tossed a small notebook onto the table, pulled a chair out, and sat down. He flipped the notebook open and scanned one of the pages.

“Can I go yet?” Jason asked. “You said this wouldn’t take long.”

“Easy,” the detective said.

“You said this would be a friendly chat, that I didn’t need a lawyer or my parents.”

The detective looked up. “Haven’t I been friendly?” He pointed to the empty Coke can on the table. “I got you a soda.” He flipped the notebook closed and smiled, but it looked forced. “We’re almost finished here. I just want to go over some things we talked about before. Now, you said you and your friend, Logan Shaw, fought pretty hard the other night. You told me you landed a couple of good ones against the side of his head.”

“One,” Jason said. “One good one.”

“One good one,” the detective said. “Sometimes that’s all it takes. And you were fighting over a girl?”

“Yes. Regan.”

“Regan Maines.” The detective nodded. “So you two guys fight over a girl. Okay, no big deal, right? Boys will be boys and all that. And you end up clocking your friend pretty good. Again, no big deal. Who hasn’t gotten into a little dustup with one of their friends? Happens all the time, right?”

“I’ve never been in a fight before.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

The detective made a disapproving face. “Okay. Not all guys fight with their friends. Okay. So you fight with your friend, and you deck him, and then he goes off into the woods because he’s pissed at you. In fact, you said he was crying a little, right?”

“Yes.”

“Were you crying too?” the detective asked, the corner of his mouth rising into a little sneer.

“I might have been. Yes.”

“And you’re eighteen?”

“I’d like to call my dad,” Jason said.

“Easy. We’re almost finished here. I know your old man. He’s a good guy.” The detective scratched his head. “Okay, all of this stuff you’ve done seems pretty normal to me, except maybe for the crying. But after that, after your friend goes off into the woods and you don’t see him anymore, that’s where it gets tricky for me. You see, here’s what I don’t understand. Your friend disappears after you have a fight with him, and you know everyone’s looking for him. By the way, his father, Mr. Shaw, he’s very upset about his son being missing. Very upset.”

“He didn’t care much about Logan when he was here.”

“Hey,” the detective said. “Don’t be smart. That man’s a good father. He’s a pillar of this community. He always does the right thing. And speaking of the right thing . . . you knew all these people were looking for Logan, the guy you punched upside the head, and yet, you didn’t tell us about that fight you had. Did you? Not the first time we talked to you. You said everything seemed normal when you last saw him. But then a few hours later, after we’d talked to some other people and came back to you again, you decided to tell us about this fight. Do you see why that doesn’t make sense to me?”

“I told you—I was angry with Logan.”

“That’s why you decked him. Because he wanted your girl—”

“No, that’s why I didn’t say anything about the fight the first time you came by the house. Logan can be . . .”

“What? Can be what?”

“Manipulative, I guess. He has moods. I figured he was just mad and wanted to take it out on all of us by going away for a while. He knew we’d worry eventually. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting to me. When you came back to my house, and I found out people were really worried . . . his dad, for example . . . that’s when I told you about the fight. It was only a few hours later. And nothing’s changed since then. My story’s the same now as it was three days ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course—”

Someone knocked. The detective stood up and opened the door, revealing a uniformed police officer. The two men whispered about something, and the detective nodded his head. “Tell them we’ll be right out. We’re finished here.” He closed the door and came back to the table. “Your old man’s here.”

“Good.”

“Before you go, I want to ask you one more thing. Where do you think Logan Shaw is?”

Jason sat back in his chair. He looked at the detective’s face, the skin heavily lined, the eyes tired. He almost—almost—felt sorry for the guy.

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “He always talked about leaving.”

“Would he really do it?” the detective asked. “His dad and mom are here. His friends. The family has a bunch of money. Would he run off and leave all of that?”

Jason thought about the question, then said, “Sometimes I think Logan is capable of just about anything.”

Chapter One

Through the thick plate-glass window of the restaurant, and blinded slightly by the bright noon sun, Jason thought he saw his sister, Hayden.

A quick glimpse, something he couldn’t really trust or believe. A flash of her face, her distinctive brisk walk. Brown hair, big eyes—and then she was gone from his view. But Jason continued to stare. He leaned his face closer to the restaurant window, trying to see through the passing flow of people—working people in their suits and skirts, families with children—and decide if it had really been his sister. He hadn’t seen her since—

The voice of his companion brought him back to the restaurant.

“Are you still with me?” the man asked.

The man. Colton Rivers. A high school classmate and now a successful lawyer in Ednaville. They were finishing their meals, their business, and Jason wasn’t sure what had been said to him. The sounds of the restaurant filled the space. Clashing silverware and murmured conversation. Someone laughed loudly at the next table.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Something catch your eye out there?” Colton asked. “Or someone?” Colton winked.

“Sorry,” Jason said. “I was daydreaming, thinking about being a kid.” Jason looked out the window again, squinting against the light. People continued to walk around, carrying out their business. He didn’t see Hayden. He hadn’t seen her, he decided. Just another person, a woman about the same age with the same hair color. Hayden had no reason to be in Ednaville. He didn’t know where she was living, but it wasn’t in their hometown. “My parents used to like to eat here at O’Malley’s. We’d come as a family.”

“Mine too.” The waiter dropped the check on the table, and Colton reached for it. “I’ve got this. You’re doing me the favor, remember? The summer festival is a big deal in Ednaville, and with you designing the posters for the committee, we know they’re...