Page 70 of Unforgotten

Candace’s father cleared his throat. “Okay, everyone. Let’s not get too spun up. If she’s with Candace, then we can reach them on her cell phone. That girl never takes a step without it.” Pulling out his own phone, he made a call.

They all waited with bated breath. Jay figured each one of them was doing the same thing he was—hoping and praying that a sleepy Candace was about to pick up.

After four rings, he disconnected. “She didn’t answer. If she was sleeping, though, she might not pick up. I’ll try her again.”

While Wayne made the call again, Jay considered other options. “How did she get here? Did she ride over with you?” he asked Dora.

“No, she drove separately in case we wanted to leave before she did.” She looked at her husband, who lowered his phone from his ear and shook his head. “Wayne, go see if her car is still here.”

“On it.” He went out the back door.

John placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Maybe they went for a ride together and lost track of time.”

“Maybe,” Martha replied, but she looked as doubtful asJay felt. He couldn’t imagine Bethanne leaving her father’s party without telling her mother—or someone.

“We canna jump to conclusions,” John said. Lowering his voice, he added, “Thinking the worst doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“He’s right,” Seth agreed.

“I just ... I just wish we knew where she was.”

Lott moved toward his mother. “I’m sure she’s somewhere obvious, Mamm. We’re just getting each other riled up and thinking the worst.”

Jay felt a little responsible for that. “I’m sorry. I was just concerned.”

Lott shook his head. “Nee. You’re only looking out for them.”

When the front door opened ten minutes later, everyone in the kitchen turned toward the hallway. Wayne soon appeared, his footsteps quick and his eyes wide. “Candace’s car is still out there. And worse”—he paused, visibly attempting to control himself—“her purse was on the ground.” He swallowed. “And a kapp.”

Martha swayed for a moment, and Lott rushed to her side and helped her sit down. With everyone seemingly stunned speechless, Jay decided to take the lead. After all, he’d been the one to notice Bethanne’s absence and start searching for her.

And—he loved her. He loved her enough to risk everyone’s fear and doubt in order to do the right thing, and that was to call Ryan Mulaney. “I’m going to call the police station.”

“Jay, I fear you’re jumping to conclusions,” John said.

Jay felt sorry for Bethanne’s father. The man was so afraid to learn something bad about his daughter that he was willing to fool himself.

“I hope I’m wrong, John,” he said quietly. “I would likenothing more than for Bethanne and Candace to walk in the house and tease me for imagining that something awful happened.” He took a deep breath. “But if they don’t, I’m never going to forgive myself if I wait.”

“The police may think we’re worried for nothing.”

“I don’t care what they think. I’ve loved Bethanne for years now. I stood aside when it seemed she wanted my best friend. I patiently laid low as she recovered and then barely left the house. But I’m finally in her life now. There’s no way I’m going to let her go—let go of my dream of having Bethanne as my wife. I need to do something now.”

“Here,” Wayne said as he handed Jay the phone. “We know Ryan. When he first started escorting her to events, he gave her his cell number. She passed it on to me.”

Ryan’s contact information was on the phone screen. All Jay had to do was tap Call.

So he did. And held his breath until the police officer answered.

23

Ryan wouldn’t have answered the phone if Wayne Evans’s name wasn’t on the screen. He’d been sound asleep, exhausted from having driven all around the county with another officer to locate a lowlife who’d been seen peddling drugs to a group of kids at the middle school. By the time the teacher had told the principal, who’d called the station, the guy was gone. The next five hours of Ryan’s life had been spent interviewing students, cross-checking the man’s appearance with other jurisdictions, and then trying to track the guy down.

But they’d done it. The guy was now behind bars.

“Wayne? Or ... Candace, is this you?” She’d been on his mind as he’d drifted to sleep.

“Nee. This is Jay Byler.”

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