Page 117 of Hometown Girl

He stilled, marveling at how he could hear the smile in the lead singer’s voice, but as he rose to his feet, his mind spun with decades-old memories, the kind that turned his dreams into nightmares. He closed his eyes, watching the memories spill in front of him like a movie on a theater screen. Vivid and bright, he saw Jess dancing at the center of the barn.

“You’re going to hurt the animals’ ears,” Drew had said, wishing he could be as free as she was.

Jess shook her body and laughed. “They love this song.”

He sat on a bale of hay.

“Dance with me, Drew!” Her voice matched the song’s tone, happy and exuberant, buoyant like a raft tossed down the river.

He hesitated, feeling self-conscious and unsure what to do with a girl dancing next to him, but nothing about Jess suggested anything but innocence. Dancing made her laugh, and when she was happy, she wanted everyone else to be happy too.

He obliged her with a few quick moves, and she threw her head back, hooting as she imitated him. Soon, the two of them were in the middle of the barn, twisting and spinning and giggling in the quiet country air.

Drew watched the shadow of his memory as it tried to fade, but before it did, before the song ended, his ten-year-old self glanced up into one of the back stalls, and in that moment, he remembered they weren’t alone. Someone sat there against the wall, watching the two children play.

Drew spun Jess around with a laugh, looked up and met a pair of angry eyes staring straight through him. He’d gasped, stopped dancing and moved in front of her.

The song came to an end, and Drew shook himself back to the present, the memory—and fresh tears—stinging his eyes. He closed them tightly, his breathing labored, and fell to his knees, the image of the face still fresh in his mind.

Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t he remembered this man until now? Why had this song triggered a memory that should’ve been there since that very day?

What had they done that day in the barn? Why hadn’t he told his parents someone had been watching them? Why had they continued to play in the barns without an adult, as if they were invincible?

Drew closed his eyes again, pressing his knuckles into them. He could still see the man’s face, vivid as a photograph. But he didn’t recognize him. He had no idea who he was or if he’d played a role in the single event that had shaped Drew more than any other.

How could he get the image out of his mind and into the hands of the police? It had been two decades, but maybe someone would recognize him.

Drew stood, unsteady on weak knees. He leaned against the only stall he’d yet to tear out, the one at the back, often shadowed and hard to see into. The man had been in that very spot only days before Jess had disappeared. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

All those years he’d been right. He hadn’t seen anyone the day Jess went missing, but he had seen someone two days before.

He had the answer he’d been looking for.

He dropped the hammer back into his toolbox and started toward the house. He might not be able to get the image out of his mind, but he knew someone who could.

Beth’s art was different from Birdie’s, clothed in realism. He wished for a fleeting moment it was the other way around. Birdie already knew who he was. Asking her would be easier.

Asking Beth had all kinds of ramifications. But he’d never be able to love her the way she deserved if he didn’t finish this.

Time to stop being a coward.

He passed through the commotion in the main barn. When he didn’t see her, he headed straight for the farmhouse.

Inside, it was quiet.

“Beth?” he called out, but the only reply was silence. “Beth?”

After checking the main floor, he started upstairs. He moved quickly, trying to hold on to every shred of the image he’d seen, though he was pretty sure he couldn’t forget that face—those eyes—if he wanted to. He finally had something tangible, something that could lead them to Jess’s kidnapper. Even the possibility of it quickened his pulse.

“Beth?” Still nothing. He checked each room, wondering if she’d gone or if she was outside somewhere and he hadn’t realized it.

A quick glance in Jess’s room. Empty. Guest room. Also empty. The bathroom door stood wide open, with obviously no one inside.

The master bedroom. She was probably cleaning out the closet.

Oh, no.Drew’s heart sank.

What if ...?

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