The Forgotten Girl by David Bell Page A

the thought. The hands thatpoked his chest might have wrung Pogo’s neck. He parked and went inside. Before going upstairs, Jason made a careful circuit of the house, checking every door and every window, clicking locks into place and tugging and pulling on knobs. He just felt better knowing the house was as carefully locked as possible.
    At the top of the stairs, he heard low voices. He looked into the open door of the guest room and saw Nora sitting on Sierra’s bed. His niece had the covers pulled up to her chin, a book open on her chest. Nora held Sierra’s hand, and Jason heard her say, “I think you’re right to try to get a good night’s sleep. Things will probably look better in the morning. You’re safe here, honey.”
    Then Nora bent down and kissed Sierra on the forehead. She reached out with her hand and smoothed the girl’s hair down. Jason turned away.
    What-ifs.What-ifs.

Chapter Twelve
    When Jason woke up the next morning, he found Nora’s side of the bed empty, the covers thrown back. He checked the clock. It was just past seven, early for Nora to be up and about, even if she did have to go into work at nine. In the hallway, Jason noticed that the door to the guest room—Sierra’s room, he was starting to think of it—remained closed. He also caught a whiff of something cooking. Bacon. Eggs. His stomach grumbled.
    As he approached the kitchen, the smell intensified. He heard the sizzle of the bacon and Nora’s humming as she cooked, the scrape of a spatula against the bottom of a pan. He stopped in the doorway.
    “What’s the occasion?” he asked.
    Nora concentrated on her work. “I told Sierra I’d make her breakfast this morning. Apparently she loves breakfast food. Bacon and eggs. I imagine she didn’t get a lot of this growing up.”
    “Is there enough for everyone?”
    Nora looked up and smiled. “Of course.”
    Jason had told Nora about his encounter with Rose in the park as well as his suspicions concerning the death of Pogo, but they had agreed to keep it from Sierra for the time being. They didn’t think she needed anything else to worry about.
    Jason took a seat at the kitchen table. Since they no longer received a morning paper, he picked up his iPad and found the news, skimming over the headlines.
    “Are you going to go out looking again after you eat?” Nora asked.
    “I guess so,” he said. “I’ll call in to work and take the morning off.”
    “You could take the whole day.”
    “I might.”
    “Do you want your eggs fried? That’s what Sierra wants.”
    “Sure.” Jason stared at Nora’s back. She wore an old sweatshirt of his, one he had bought in college that was now full of holes. She cracked the eggs into the pan, where they hissed. “You know,” he said . . . but then he didn’t know what to say next.
    Nora kept her eyes on the pan. “Come again?”
    “I was just going to say . . . it’s kind of nice having Sierra around. You know?”
    “It is,” Nora said. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Why don’t you go wake her up?”
    “Teenagers love being woken up.”
    Jason strolled through the house, glad to have a purpose. The sun came through the front windows, streaming rays that illuminated spinning dust motes. At the top of the stairs he tapped lightly on the door to Sierra’s room. He waited, then knocked louder.
    “Sierra?”
    He checked the bathroom. Empty. He didn’t want to try the door to Sierra’s room. It felt like a violation of her privacy.
    But then?
    What else was he going to do?
    The knob turned under his touch. When the door swungopen, he saw the empty bed. No computer. He turned and ran down the stairs.
    “Nora?” he called.
    She met him in the living room. “My keys are gone,” she said. “And so is the car. She’s gone, isn’t she?”
    “Where were the keys? How did she get the keys?”
    “I left them by the phone. I always do.”
    Jason ran to the kitchen, then looked out the window and saw the empty