by David Bell
PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF DAVID BELL
The Forgotten Girl
“David Bell is a natural storyteller and a superb writer. The Forgotten Girl is a mystery lover’s mystery—a quick-paced and intriguing tale of what happens when the past catches up with the present. Mr. Bell understands the hearts and minds of ordinary and not-so-ordinary people, and his keen insights add a powerful dimension to his crisp writing.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Nelson DeMille
“David Bell’s The Forgotten Girl is both a tightly woven mystery and a frightening look at addiction, the mistrust it creates, the power of secrets, and the hurt created by the little lies we tell ourselves. I never felt like I had my feet under me. Bell has crafted an unforgettable story full of surprises. Don’t miss it.”
—J. T. Ellison, New York Times bestselling author of When Shadows Fall
“David Bell writes spellbinding and gripping thrillers that get under your skin and refuse to let go. This is his best so far.”
—Linwood Barclay, New York Times and #1 international bestselling author of No Safe House
Never Come Back
“David Bell [has] established himself as one of the brightest and best crime fiction writers of our time . . . a definite page-turner. . . . Bell, once again, has written an incredible, unique thriller that will have you hooked!”
—Suspense Magazine
“[A] page-turner. . . . Bell does a good job exposing the seaminess underlying seemingly placid small-town life.”
—Publishers Weekly
“David Bell should be a household name for crime fiction lovers. . . . The twisted threads of this complex novel come together for the most explosive of revelations and family secrets.”
—SheKnows Book Lounge
“An intriguing, layered psychological thriller.”
—Kirkus Reviews
The Hiding Place
“An artfully constructed tale . . . a powerful, provocative novel.”
—Publishers Weekly
“David Bell does a masterful job of crafting a crime story . . . a riveting book with surprising but believable twists on every page.”
—Suspense Magazine
“A truly fascinating novel . . . an intriguing and complex plot that will keep the reader guessing up to the last chapter.”
—I Love a Mystery
“An incredibly engaging, emotionally investing read. What David Bell does exceptionally well is maintain a heightened level of suspense from beginning to end.”
—S. Krishna’s Books
“Bell has written another winning thriller that is certain to entertain, frighten, and swiftly climb bestseller lists.”
—Bowling Green Daily News
“Highly recommend[ed]. . . . I cannot wait for [Bell’s] next masterpiece.”
—Caffeinated Book Reviewer
“[Bell’s] book has lessons that will reverberate with the reader and remain after the conclusion is savored.”
—The Louisville Courier-Journal
“[An] amazing book going on my 2012 favorites list. It’s a haunting story of a terrible crime, and the family secrets and lies surrounding it that finally surface over two decades later.”
—Book of Secrets
Cemetery Girl
“Cemetery Girl is more than just an utterly compelling thriller—and it certainly is that. David Bell’s stellar novel is also a haunting meditation on the ties that bind parent to child, husband to wife, brother to brother—and what survives even under the most shattering possible circumstance. An absolutely riveting, absorbing read not to be missed.”
—Lisa Unger, New York Times bestselling author of Heartbroken
“Cemetery Girl is my favorite kind of story because it takes the familiar and darkens it. This story is essentially about a missing little girl, but trust me: you have never read a missing-persons story like this one. . . . A fast, mean head trip of a thriller that reads like a collaboration between Michael Connelly and the gothic fiction of Joyce Carol Oates, Cemetery Girl is one of those novels that you cannot shake after it’s over. A winner on every level.”
—Will Lavender, New York Times bestselling author of Dominance
“Cemetery Girl is a smasher. It twists and turns and never lets go, and . . . it could happen just this way.”
—Jacquelyn Mitchard, New York Times bestselling author of The Deep End of the Ocean
“Cemetery Girl grabbed me by the throat on page one and never let up. An intense, unrelenting powerhouse of a book, and the work of a master.”
—John Lescroart, New York Times bestselling author of The Ophelia Cut
“Smart, stark, and haunting. This is perfect reading for a spooky autumn night, but be forewarned you might have to later sleep with the light on.”
—Tucson Citizen
“A tense and terrifying journey that brims with emotional authenticity. Bell manages not only to build suspense effectively but also tell a story that goes way beyond simple thrills.”
—Booklist
“The story is engaging and tugs at the reader’s heartstrings immediately . . . fast-paced and compelling.”
—Fiction Addict
“Compelling . . . please don’t miss reading this book. You’ll do yourself a huge disservice if you do.”
—Fresh Fiction
“An intense ride, twisting through some creepy psychological terrain.”
—Houston Chronicle
“A nail-biting page-turner. . . . David Bell has delivered a first-rate thriller that provides the reader with enough sketchy characters to engage and challenge even the most seasoned reader. Followers of the genre can celebrate the addition of another gifted storyteller.”
—LitStack
“Disturbing, brilliantly engaging, and a must read for thriller fans.”
—Suspense Magazine
ALSO BY DAVID BELL
Cemetery Girl
The Hiding Place
Never Come Back
New American Library
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014
USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China
penguin.com
A Penguin Random House Company
First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC
Copyright © David J. Bell, 2014
Readers Guide copyright © Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 2014
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Bell, David.
The forgotten girl/David Bell.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-101-60485-4
1. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 2. Missing persons—Fiction.
3. Family secrets—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.E64544F67 2014
813'.6—dc23 2014015517
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the prod
uct of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
Contents
Praise
Also by DAVID BELL
Title page
Copyright page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Chapter Fifty-six
Chapter Fifty-seven
Chapter Fifty-eight
Acknowledgments
Readers Guide
Excerpt from SOMEBODY I USED TO KNOW
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 t
o 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 going to look good.”
“I’m glad I can help out,” Jason said. He tried not to sound as distracted as he felt. He forced himself not to look out the window again.
Hayden?
“How about a drink?” Colton asked. “Sometimes I have one before I go back to the office.”
Jason thought about it for a second. There was no strict provision against it in the America’s Best offices. Since he worked on the creative side of things, no one would really pay attention to what he did anyway.
“Sure,” he said.
Colton signaled the waiter again. He ordered a scotch, and Jason asked for an Old Fashioned. The drinks came, and Jason said, “Okay, Colton, you’ve built up enough suspense. What do you want to ask me? Do you have more work for the festival? Do you want me to sit in the dunking booth?”
