Page 38 of Unforgotten

“I’m not interested in making your life more difficult, Bethanne. I just want to be in it.” No, he wanted to be so important to her that she couldn’t imagine starting a day without him by her side.

She released a ragged sigh. “All right, then.”

She looked so lost. Before he thought better of it, hereached for her hand. It was soft and smooth and surprisingly cool. He ran his thumb along her knuckles. Enjoyed the pattern of the delicate bones underneath the thin barrier of skin.

She watched as he did that, then raised her chin. Met his eyes.

“I appreciate you coming to see me here. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

Bethanne nodded. “I’m glad I did.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Her brown eyes turned languid and soft. Sparking a new wave of desire to know her better. Then, all too soon, she pulled her hand back. He released it.

“I better go now. Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Bethanne.”

Needing a moment to come to terms with what had just happened, he stayed where he was as she went back into the building. And remembered all the times when they were younger and he’d wanted to get her attention so badly but knew that wouldn’t be welcomed. And he once again wished that Peter Miller hadn’t done what he did. Even if it meant Jay would never get a chance with Bethanne, it would be worth it for her not to have been hurt.

He hated what she’d had to endure the last seven years. But now things seemed to be changing for the better—for both of them. Pretty, sweet, shy Bethanne Hostetler had finally consented to him calling on her.

It seemed miracles happened after all.

14

“Hey, Irish!”

Ryan’s recently acquired nickname echoed through the rat’s maze of cubicles in the station, causing more than one officer to chuckle under his breath. He didn’t mind it too much. He was from a large Irish family, after all. Nothing he could do about that.

“Irish, you got a minute?” Chief Foster asked again when he appeared at his side.

“Yes.” He stood up, glad for the excuse to not start his morning by scanning through police reports of carjackings in nearby jurisdictions. “What’s up?”

“I want you to head over to Burke Lumber. Dispatcher just sent out a request for a unit to be on the scene.”

“Yes, sir.” He reached for his radio and took his pistol from the locked drawer in his desk. “What’s going on?”

“There was a fire, but it was small, and the fire department already put it out.” He frowned, glancing at his cell. “However, it sounds as if one of the employees might have seen something. I want you to go check it out.”

“They don’t think it was an accident?”

“I’m not sure what they think. Dispatcher sounded prettyconfused about the call. But she did say that she feels it was a legit concern. I don’t doubt it. Burke Lumber has a stellar reputation. The owner’s name is Walker Burkholder. He should be able to help you talk to whoever you need to.”

“Roger that.”

After striding out to his cruiser, Ryan pulled out of the station and drove the five miles to the edge of Marion. Thankfully it was the middle of the day, so he didn’t connect with much traffic at all. Minutes later, he pulled into Burke Lumber.

A fire engine was in the parking lot. The lights were on, but the crew was obviously cleaning up. Another vehicle, a white SUV with the MFD logo on the side, sat nearby. As soon as Ryan parked and got out of the car, an employee from Burke Lumber walked toward him with a confident demeanor. He looked Amish.

“Hi. May I help ya?”

He nodded. “Good morning. I’m Officer Mulaney. I was sent out here to speak with someone. Do you know who that is?”

“It’s me. At least for now.”

“All right. How may I help you?”

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