The Forgotten Girl

by David Bell

  Jason paused a moment, then said, “Derrick said something about Sierra before I left. He said that he still cared about her . . . Wait. Also that nothing had changed between them. What was he talking about?”

  Hayden looked at the ground. Her shoulders rose and fell as she heaved a big sigh. “I came clean with Derrick about something else when we were out in that cabin, something having to do with Sierra.”

  “What about her?”

  “It’s not about her so much. It’s about me . . . and Jesse Dean and Derrick. I wasn’t going to tell either one of them about it, but then I thought it might help protect Sierra. I don’t think it did because it just drove Derrick further over the edge.”

  Jason’s mind spun with possibilities. “Something you thought would protect Sierra from Jesse Dean?” Then the pieces fell into place in Jason’s head. “Are you serious, Hayden?”

  She nodded. “I told them both that there’s at least a decent chance Jesse Dean is Sierra’s biological father. I was out of control back then, and we were all friends. And a few times Jesse Dean and I . . . Derrick suspected. He suspected, and he didn’t say anything about it. One of the times with Jesse Dean happened around when I got pregnant with Sierra.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything, I guess.”

  “No. But Derrick and I tried to have another baby later on. We really tried, and it never worked. I wonder if he couldn’t. You see, that’s why I thought Jesse Dean could be reasoned with. I thought if he knew that Sierra might be his . . . well, I thought he wouldn’t hurt her. And I thought he might want to come clean on everything to set the record straight after all these years. Maybe he’d have something to look forward to. I didn’t tell Sierra.”

  “Tell me what, Mom?”

  They both turned in the direction of the voice.

  Sierra stood by the side of the ambulance. She looked uncertain, slightly unsteady, but she smiled when she saw her mother and uncle.

  “Nothing, baby,” Hayden said, and she went to her daughter. “Nothing at all.”

  Chapter Fifty-two

  “You can let go, Mom. I’m fine. Really.”

  Hayden stepped back and cupped Sierra’s face in her hands. She studied her daughter intently. “Are you sure?”

  “They said I’m fine. Nothing happened to me. Nobody hurt me.”

  “I’m still worried.”

  “You were the one who was out here in the woods for more than a week.”

  “I’m good,” Hayden said. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

  Sierra looked past her mother and made eye contact with Jason. She smiled when she saw her uncle, then slipped past her mom and came over to give Jason a hug.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Jason said.

  He held his niece for a long time. It seemed as though she might be ready to let go, but Jason held tight to her a little longer. The length of the hug and his desire to extend it surprised Jason, but it felt right.

  When he finally did let go, Jason asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry . . . about everything you’ve been through.”

  “Have you seen my dad?” she asked.

  “He’s with the police still,” Jason said. “He could be there a while.”

  Sierra nodded. She folded her arms across her chest and looked to her mother, who came over and placed an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

  “You should go home,” Jason said.

  “Home?” Hayden laughed. “All the way to Redman County? I don’t even know where my car is.”

  “The police have it,” Jason said. “Sierra’s the one who found it up on the Bluff.”

  “I know,” Hayden said. “She told me.”

  “Come back to our house,” Jason said. “You’re both welcome there. You can spend the night and get the car back from the police tomorrow.” Jason looked around. “I don’t even know where my car is.”

  “The police said they’d take us where we needed to go,” Hayden said.

  “Uncle Jason?”

  “Yeah?”

  Sierra seemed to be choosing her words carefully. She didn’t speak right away, and then she looked over at her mother. Hayden nodded, as though the two of them had discussed what Sierra wanted to say. She turned back to Jason.

  “It’s not your fault I left with my dad,” she said. “I wanted to go. I was kind of pissed at you, to be honest. I didn’t like the way you seemed to be looking at Mom, like you didn’t trust her. And like you didn’t really trust me either.”

  “I shouldn’t have—”

  “I just want to say . . . when we were in that cabin . . . I knew you were going to come. I told my dad that I wasn’t worried about being there because I knew somehow you’d make it out here and find us.”

  Hayden pulled Sierra closer to her. Jason looked away, his eyes turning up to the stars, which swam a little in his vision. One of them blinked on and off, a distant satellite tracking through the night.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure both of you were all right.”

  “We are,” Hayden said. “Or we will be. Right, kiddo?”

  “Right, Mom. Of course.”

  * * *

  As the police cruiser neared town, Jason checked his phone. He had service again, and he called Nora to let them know the three of them were on their way to the house.

  “Thank God,” Nora said. “The police called me and told me you were all out in the middle of the woods somewhere.”

  “Everybody’s okay. Well, the three of us are okay. Derrick’s in some trouble, but I can explain it all when we get there.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “I know. We’ll see you soon.”

  “Jason?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you really okay?” she asked.

  “I am. I promise.”

  He put the phone away. As they approached the house, Jason saw a familiar sight parked on the street. “My car,” he said.

  When they climbed out of the cruiser, Jason walked around to the front of his car where he saw a note tucked under the windshield. He read it to himself, the writing an erratic scrawl. “Hey Chief—I did what I said I’d do and brought the car back too. Now leave me alone.”

  Jason smiled. He folded the note and tucked it in his pants pocket. Sierra and Hayden stood on the sidewalk with him, and they all looked up as Nora opened the front door. Jason wanted to go to his wife, but he stopped himself. There was more he had to find out from Hayden.

  “Sierra?” Jason said. “Do you mind going on in for a second? We’ll be right there.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  He watched Sierra go up the steps and get folded into Nora’s arms. Nora held her niece for a long time, then looked down to the sidewalk where Jason and Hayden were standing.

  “We’re okay,” Jason said to her. “Just give us a minute, okay?”

  “Okay.” Nora waved, her face showing concern. But she guided Sierra into the house and closed the door.

  Jason turned to his sister. “You know I have one more question I didn’t get the chance to ask you, right?” Jason said.

  “I figured as much.”

  “I told myself I wasn’t going to ask tonight. Hell, I tried to tell myself I never needed to know, but that isn’t going to work for me. Not after all this, not after enough people risked something to help me and you and Sierra out.”

  “I get it.”

  “Why, Hayden? Why did Jesse Dean and Derrick kill Logan that night?”

  Hayden leaned against the car. She lifted her shoulders, a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know for sure.”

  “Hayden.”

  “I asked. Believe me, I asked. And like I said, I don’t know. But I can t
ell you the one thing I know for sure. When we were in that cabin, I heard one name mentioned more than any other.”

  Jason didn’t have to ask. He knew, and he said the name out loud.

  “Regan.”

  Hayden nodded. “I know she’s involved. That’s why I said it was good you reconnected with her, that you were being a friend to her. If she was mixed up in Logan’s death, she’d need the support.”

  “Thanks,” Jason said.

  He went up the stairs and into the house. Nora and Sierra sat close to each other on the couch, and when he came in, Nora stood up and embraced him. “Are you okay? Jesus. Sierra just started to tell me what happened.”

  “I’m fine. We’re all fine.” He held his wife for a long moment and then stepped back, looking into her eyes. “I have to go take care of one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “I have to see Regan,” he said. “I have to know some final answers.”

  “Can’t the police do that stuff?” Nora asked. “Is it safe?”

  “After twenty-seven years,” he said, “I need to do it myself.” He turned and started out of the house. “I’ll be in touch, I promise.”

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Jason pulled into Regan’s driveway just after midnight. A single light burned in the front window, illuminating the closed sheer curtains. When Jason stepped out of the car and started up the driveway, he heard a neighbor’s dog bark, a sharp, staccato call in the night. Then someone hushed the dog through an open window, and the night grew silent again.

  He tapped on the front door. The lighted curtain moved, her familiar face pressing against the window. Jason waved, and when he did, he saw the hesitation in Regan’s movement. She remained frozen behind the pane of glass for a moment, as though contemplating whether she wanted to let him in. Then she let the curtain fall, obscuring her face, and the locks untumbled behind the door. Regan revealed herself, still dressed from work apparently, and stepped back, letting Jason come inside. She didn’t say anything by way of a greeting. She pointed toward a sitting area off the foyer, a small room with bookshelves, a desk, and two comfortable chairs. Jason went in. Between the two chairs sat an end table, and on the table an open bottle of wine and a half-full glass.

  “Would you like one?” Regan asked.

  “Do you have any whiskey?”

  “Sure.”

  Regan stepped away. Jason settled into one of the chairs, the one closest to the door. He looked around the room, taking in the books and the neatness of the desk. Regan came back with a short glass half-filled with amber liquid. In her other hand she carried a bottle of bourbon and another small glass.

  “I didn’t know if you wanted ice.”

  “This is fine,” he said.

  She put the extra glass down on the table and poured a shot. “I’m switching now,” she said. “Wine before liquor, never sicker? Did we have a saying for that in high school?”

  “We didn’t drink wine in high school.”

  “Right.” She sat down and sipped from the glass. “Something’s happening, isn’t it?”

  “A lot of somethings.”

  “I had a feeling. I don’t know why. I couldn’t sleep. The kids are at Tim’s house. I just got back from dropping them off, so it doesn’t matter if I want to sit up and sip some wine or liquor with an old friend.”

  “Jesse Dean is dead. And Derrick is in custody. He’s facing a lot of heat.”

  The hand holding Regan’s glass started to tremble. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip. “You’re not beating around the bush with the bad news,” she said, her voice closer to a whisper.

  Jason swallowed the bourbon, felt its pleasant burn down his throat. “I decided to be direct. Does it bother you that Jesse Dean is dead and Derrick’s in jail?”

  Regan’s eyes slid toward Jason. “Shouldn’t it? Should I not be bothered if someone died or got in trouble?”

  “Jesse Dean was a common criminal. Derrick is my brother-in-law, ex-brother-in-law, and the . . . the father of my niece. But you barely knew them. People die every day, don’t they?” Jason waited for a response and didn’t get one. He finished the liquor in his glass and reached out and poured more. He held the bottle up toward Regan, but she shook her head. “Why do you care about these two unless you have some special connection with them? You were just talking to Jesse Dean. They were talking about you out at that cabin in the woods where they were holding Hayden.”

  As Jason spoke, Regan lowered her head, staring into her own glass, but at the mention of Hayden’s name, she perked up. “Is Hayden okay?”

  “She is. She’s at my house with Sierra and Nora. But she said those guys talked about you a lot. And it was Hayden who was covering for them all those years after they killed Logan. Yes, I know they killed Logan. And Hayden knows. What I don’t know is why, and I have a feeling you do.” He paused a moment, preparing himself. A thought raced through his mind: Do I really want to know? “What happened that night, Regan? Why did Jesse Dean and Derrick kill Logan on the Bluff?”

  Regan finished what was in her glass, and she reached out and poured another, the tip of the bottle clinking against the glass. She swallowed that one and sat quiet for a moment.

  “You know, right?” Jason asked. “You can tell me finally?”

  “I can,” she said. “After Logan fought with you over me, he came back. He found me again in the woods. I’d wandered down the trail a little bit, just clearing my head. I was worried about you and about him. And, to be perfectly honest, I was feeling a little . . . I don’t know, nostalgic, I guess. I started thinking about graduating from high school and the changes that were coming whether I was ready for them or not. You were going away. I was going to school right here. It just seemed like . . . a door was closing on a lot of things. And after I turned Logan down, and he went to find you, it seemed like that door might stay shut forever.”

  Regan picked up her glass again, but there was nothing in it to drink. She tilted it and examined the drop that remained in the bottom before she drank it away.

  “Logan was upset. I could tell he was angry, and it looked like he’d been crying. He had a little scrape on his forehead as well. Do you remember it that way?”

  “I know he was upset.”

  Jason remembered the final punch. He held his glass in two hands and looked down at his knuckles.

  “When he found me, he asked me the same thing he had asked me before. He said he wanted to be with me and would I run off with him. I told him that my answer hadn’t changed in the thirty minutes since he had last talked to me. I guess I was a little flip. I could be that way when I was a teenager.” She almost smiled. She uncrossed her legs and scooted forward in her chair. She reached for the bourbon bottle and unscrewed the cap. “If I have another one of these, I may have to use a sick day at work.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jason said.

  “For what?”

  “That you have to tell me whatever it is you’re about to tell me.”

  “I’ve wanted to tell you for years,” she said. “You deserve to know. And I deserve to get to tell you.” She poured the drink and recapped the bottle. “There was something different about Logan when he came back that night. He was crying, yes, but he also seemed angry. Silly me, I thought I could calm him down. I thought that I could just talk to a guy like that, reasonably, and things would be okay. We were friends after all, right? He’d listen to me. He’d see me as a human being.” Regan’s voice rose as she spoke, and she seemed to make an effort to control her tone. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I sat down with him,” she said. “There was a log there, and we sat. And I took his hand. And I told him he needed to relax.” She swallowed. “He tried to kiss me. It was awkward. He leaned in and came right at my mouth, and I pulled away and put my hand up. H
e didn’t come in gently or romantically. It was aggressive, almost like he wanted to bite me or something. I pushed him back, and he came at me again. He grabbed my arm.” She pointed to her wrist. “Here. I’d never been afraid of Logan. I’d never really been afraid of any guy. But I was afraid that night. Really afraid. He seemed like he was possessed.”

  As Regan told the story, she stopped looking at Jason. She stared into the room, at a fixed point somewhere in the air. But Jason knew she was seeing the events of that night playing out in her mind’s eye.

  “It’s been so long, and things happened so fast, it’s hard to say exactly how it all unfolded. What I do know is that I ended up on the ground. He wrestled me off the log, and I was on my back. I felt the rocks and twigs and things pressing against my skin through my shirt. I remember that clearly, how freaking uncomfortable it was on the ground. And when he got on top of me, it hurt even more because his weight pressed me into the dirt with more force.”

  An icy, churning sickness welled up inside Jason. Against his will, he pictured the scene. He also thought of all the women he knew—Hayden, Sierra, Nora. He took a drink, but the burning was no longer pleasant. He gagged and had to swallow back hard.

  “I felt my clothes tear. I felt his hands moving below my waist. I tried to fight him off, but he was a strong fucker. I just couldn’t stop him. My underwear tore, and his hands went down there.”

  “Did you scream?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if I could. Have you ever had one of those dreams where you’re terrified, just terrified about whatever is happening, but when you open your mouth to make a noise, nothing comes out? That’s what it felt like to me. I couldn’t make a sound. Or, if I did, I didn’t know I was making it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “His finger. I was a virgin then, as you could probably guess. I’d never really been with a guy in a real way. His finger. It hurt. I remember that.” She sighed and looked at Jason. “And then suddenly the weight was off of me. Whatever Logan was doing or trying to do stopped, and his body was off of mine. I thought he’d just fallen or lost his balance. I thought he was going to get right back on before I could scramble away.” She paused. “But then I saw that someone else was by us. Derrick had ahold of Logan and wrestled him off of me. And Jesse Dean was standing right there watching.”