Read Online The Forgotten Girl by David Bell - Free Book Online Page B

would we tell the police if we called them?”
    “Tell them about that text. Tell them we think Mom’s in danger.”
    “That’s not really enough to bother the police with.” Jason turned east on Eighth Street and slowed the car to a stop in front of a brick house with a wide front porch. Sierra didn’t look outside the car. She was still turned to Jason, her face intensely focused. “Your mom said she’d be back in forty-eight hours, right? And it hasn’t even been twenty-four. I think we just need to give her that time.”
    Sierra turned away. She looked straight ahead, across the hood of the car. In profile, she resembled her father, Derrick, a little. They both had the same rounded tip of the nose, the same slightly raised upper lip.
    “You were freaked out by the text too,” Sierra said without turning her head. “I saw it on your face.”
    The kid was smart—he had to give her that. She didn’t miss a damn thing.
    “Forty-eight hours,” Jason said. “Forty-eight hours.” He pointed across Sierra toward the house. “See that?” he asked. “That one there?”
    Sierra didn’t look. “I’ve seen it. I’ve been inside.”
    “When you were little?”
    She nodded. Jason understood why she had withdrawn, but he also felt compelled to try to draw her out. Did all parents feel that way when confronted with a moody or unhappy teenager? Did they strive for anything that might engage the child?
    “Your mom and I had rooms on the top floor,” Jason said. “Mine was on the left and hers was on the right. It was convenient for her.” Jason pointed again. “See that tree over there? She used to go out the window and climb down when she wanted to sneak out of the house.”
    Sierra looked at the house, following the line indicated by Jason’s finger. She pulled out a tube of lip balm, the cap making a little snapping noise as she opened it, filling the car with the scent of strawberries. Sierra asked, “Do you think about the past a lot?”
    “Sometimes,” he said. “I live in the town I grew up in. I’m middle-aged. That’s a combination that leads to thinking about the past.”
    “I want to ask you something, then,” Sierra said.
    “Something about your mom?”
    “Something about you,” she said, turning back around to face him. “Maybe it has to do with Mom.”
    “Okay. We’re kind of on memory lane anyway. Shoot.”
    “I want to know about this friend of yours who disappeared.”
    Jason sat back in his seat. If he’d been given one hundred guesses at what Sierra was going to say, the statement she uttered wouldn’t have been one of them.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Mom told me once that you had some friend, some guy, and on the night of your high school graduation he just up and left. He got pissed at everybody here, and he just walked away and never came back. I’m curious about it.”
    “He didn’t disappear,” Jason said. “‘Disappear’ suggests something else, something sinister. Like he was kidnapped. He just left like you said.”
    “Can you tell me about it?” Sierra asked.
    “Why are you so curious?”
    “Mom brought it up one time. Years ago. I was a little kid. And then for a long time it never came up. To be honest, I guess I just forgot about it. But maybe six months or so ago I remembered that she had mentioned this guy who disappeared from her hometown, and that he was a close friend of yours. What was his name? I forget. Was it Larry or something?”
    “Logan.”
    “Logan. That’s it.” Sierra appeared lost in thought.
    Someone on the street started a leaf blower, its droning howl cutting through the otherwise pleasant evening.
    “So you asked her about it six months ago?” Jason said, prompting her.
    “Right,” Sierra said. “She got a little pissy when I brought it up. She told me I shouldn’t ask about things like that, that they were none of my business. That wasn’t like Mom. She never minded if I asked her questions, even about the