When Memories Fade (11 page)

“Alan, you are not serious, are you?” Wes looked incredulously at his news producer. “If Serena had this assignment, you wouldn't hesitate to let her go through with
her
own story ideas.”

“I'm not saying you aren't delivering, Wes. I just think with Melanie being a Charlotte native, we aren't doing her story justice. Look at what CNN is reporting. We need a different angle.”

“I'm aware of the need to bring a unique angle. It was me who brought the exclusive interviews with Detective Darnell Jackson and Candace Johnson a few months ago.” Of course, it didn't hurt that Wes had a connection. He coached basketball along with Darnell at the Victory Gospel Center. Since Darnell was dating the beauty salon owner, interviewing Candace had turned out to be a sweet deal.

“And we are proud of you for pulling off those stories. I need to see you do it again. I just think we need to throw around some ideas.”

Wes looked away and then back at Alan, whose thick eyebrows were a unibrow. Sometimes Alan's obsession with getting ratings and an award-winning story was even too much for Wes. Not that he didn't strive for the same goals. “I told you I believe we need to locate Melanie's dad. No one knows what happened to him. It's like he disappeared too.”

Alan waved his hand. “I don't know, Wes. Would he kidnap his daughter or harm her? Why?”

Wes looked back at his notes from Lisa. “Both Lisa and Jay mentioned that Melanie was having a difficult time securing a record deal. There was a deal on the table, but she wasn't talking to anyone about it.”

“Why not?”

“I guess because she had been pushed into the spotlight from the
American Voices
show. Most of the people I have talked to thought she had been voted off too soon, that she should have made it all the way to the finals. Her fans want to see her get an album out there, since she wasn't a winner on the show. Melanie felt that pressure.”

“So a girl with that kind of talent . . .” Alan leaned back in his seat and placed his hands behind his head. “Why didn't she have record companies knocking at her door?”

Wes shrugged. “I don't know. I'm not sure this has anything to do with her being missing.”

Alan leaned forward. “I know you are going with your gut here on the father, but I think we need to look at this from another angle. Give her fans something to hang on to. Who offered Melanie record deals? Why were contracts never signed? What was the latest offer? Why such a secret?”

After getting pelted with Alan's questions, Wes thought for a moment. Finally, he answered, “Okay, you have a couple of points. I will focus on the record deals, but I still want to ask questions about the dad.”

Alan threw up his hands. “Fine. Just make sure we deliver the news story that Charlotte wants to hear. That all her fans want to hear.”

“I'm on it. By the way, where is Serena? I would love to know what her take would be on this story.”

“Told you Matt sent her on a trip up to New York. Something is brewing, but no one is sharing with me.”

“Must be a serious story for Matt to give her expenses.” Then again, Wes knew Serena could get anything she wanted, including permission from the station's news director, Matt Lemon, to pursue a hot story.

“No telling what Serena has up her sleeve. In the meantime, Melanie Stowe is our biggest local and national story. Dig up some stuff.”

Wes arose from the chair and left Alan's office. He wasn't sure pursuing Melanie's record deal failures would reveal anything about why she went missing, but he was intrigued. As he sat at his desk, he started to wonder if he wasn't mixing up the cases a bit. Really, the father he wanted to talk to was the man Pops had tried to investigate in the Elisa Roberts case.

Two different missing person cases, but something was odd. He thought about what Angel had said over the weekend. There were a few similarities in the cases, even though they were twenty years apart. They were both dynamic singers, and both disappeared in their early twenties. Despite the vocal talent both these women had, life wouldn't allow them to pursue the recognition they desired.

Wes tapped the keyboard to awaken the computer screen and logged into Facebook. He had made a note to check out Melanie Stowe's profile page. She had a public fan page that had over twenty thousand members. Those were pretty impressive numbers. Wes scrolled through the posts, looking for any odd postings. Most of the posts were from fans wanting the young singer to be found safely. Many prayers were going up for Melanie.

As he continued scrolling, he stopped on one post, mainly because the avatar represented a person who was older than some of the other members. He'd posted, Melanie, girl, I can't wait to work with you in the studio. You are going places, girl. World, watch out for your next big superstar. Was this related to the record deal? The message was posted about a week before Melanie went missing. Wes scribbled down the date and then clicked on the avatar to pull up the profile page. Minister J.D. Wes sat back. He knew this guy. In fact, Minister J.D. was the founder of the men's conference Wes had attended last year.

The minister had an unusual background. In the nineties, he had a brief stint as a hip-hop artist known simply as J.D. After one big album that sold a million copies, J.D. found himself pulled into the darker part of the business. He was seen publicly in a drunken state, was charged with a few DUIs, and then finally ended up in rehab. The former hip-hop artist lay low for years before opening a small church in South Charlotte. During the past five years Minister J.D. had acquired quite a flock at Kingdom Building Church. The congregation was not nearly as large as the one at Victory Gospel Church, but many young people liked Minister J.D.'s style of preaching. He was known to drop a rhyme or two.

Wes would definitely be visiting with the minister in the near future. In the meantime, he had a meeting with a friend who he hoped would help provide a better perspective on Melanie's case.

About two hours later, Wes found himself lifting his body off the ground to slam the ball into the net. He came down to the ground and shouted, “Yeah, baby! Detective, I believe I took care of business today.”

Shaking his head, Darnell grinned and retrieved the bouncing ball. “Okay, you got game today. I will give it to you.” He rubbed his goatee. “Although you might not want to try that jump again. An old man can get hurt off a jumper like that.”

“Old man! Really, if I'm not mistaken, I believe you got a few years on me, Detective.”

Both men laughed as they walked off the court.

“Thanks for letting me whip up on you. Great stress reliever,” Wes commented.

“Mmm, enjoy, because that will be your last time.”

“I doubt it. You see you have a problem.”

Darnell stopped and looked at Wes. “I do?”

Wes continued walking and said over his shoulder, “Yeah, you are a man in love. Men in love can't concentrate on anything else.”

Darnell threw his head back and laughed. He caught up to Wes. “Can't argue with you on that one.”

Wes asked, “So, when are you going to pop the question?”

“Whoa, bro! Slow down. Candace and I are not walking down the aisle anytime soon. We have both been married before, so we are going take our time.”

“That's smart.”

“What about you? One of the most recognizable bachelors in Charlotte. I've heard about your groupies.”

“Man, you need to stop. I don't know how my name ended up in that article. I just report the news. Although, I have found myself in the danger zone at work. You know who I'm talking about.”

Darnell gave Wes a look. “Please don't tell me you are referring to Serena Manchester.”

“For some reason that I haven't figured out yet, I've been on her radar. I know she wants something. Just don't know what yet.”

“Well, it's good you are keeping an eye on her. She is one tricky woman. I do believe she will do anything to get a story.”

Wes knew that Darnell was right. The detective was betrayed by Serena a few years back on a case, and it almost cost Darnell his job at the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department. Wes was really concerned about why Serena was in New York, especially since she had had so many questions about Pops. His gut told him her questions related back to a cold case, but which one?

As they approached their cars, Wes remembered to ask Darnell the question that had been on his mind. “Hey, can I ask you about Melanie Stowe?”

“Sure. Technically, she is still a missing person case, though.”

“Yeah, but it will be two weeks tomorrow. Do you think there is any chance of finding her alive now?”

Darnell shook his head. “I hate to say it, but it could be any day now, weeks, or even months when she could become a homicide case. And at that point, I would definitely be on it. I have been keeping up with the case when I can, though. There isn't much to work with.”

“I know. I wish someone had witnessed something that night. It's crazy. So, what do you do with a case where there is no body? Like, there's this case Pops worked on years and years ago. They had this person of interest, but they had no body and no evidence of a crime scene. All they could do is let him go. What if he got away with it just because he was clever enough to cover his tracks?”

Darnell leaned against his car. “That's a hard one. There's not much you can do unless the person confesses. These days we could do a little more with DNA, but in the case of Melanie Stowe, her car was swept for prints and there was nothing. I will say this, though. Someone had to be watching her very carefully. They had to know she was going to be at the club that night, and once they saw her alone, they took the opportunity.”

“A stalker. Maybe someone who was just a bit too much of a fan.”

“Yeah, it's my understanding folks are looking into that now, but that's a wild-goose chase.”

“There had to be some communication via e-mail, her social media, or a phone call.”

“Yeah, there was a lot of it. Do you know how many people tried to contact this woman? She probably went on that show thinking she would achieve her dreams. I imagine it had become a bit of a nightmare for her.” Darnell shook his head and held out his hand toward Wes. “All right, man. I have to head back. We have to do this again. Next time, it's on.”

“You got it!”

Darnell and Wes exchanged a brotherly handshake. Wes got into his car. As Darnell drove off, Wes started thinking. He hadn't had a chance to speak to Melanie's stepmom himself, but now he wondered what the real reason was for Melanie moving back home. Before he could turn the car on, his phone rang.

Angel's number showed on the display.

Angel couldn't help but smile as she heard Wes ask, “Are you sure about this?”

She responded, “Not really, but it's too late to turn back now. I'm sitting outside his house. I figured I would let you know. You know, if things don't go well, I can blame you.” She laughed nervously.

She had located her dad's house. It was actually pretty scary how much information about a person one could find online. After her dad left the Charlotte area, he had lived in several cities out west, but mainly Las Vegas and then San Diego. He seemed to start and lose businesses quite often. He'd finally hit it big with his latest business.

Wes said, “I wish you would have let me go with you. It might not be a good idea to do this by yourself.”

“I have to, Wes. Besides, he's my father, and I need to know the truth.”

“If you sense something isn't right, just leave. Okay?”

Angel heard the concern in Wes's voice but was preoccupied by a movement in the house. Someone was peeking at her from the bay window in front of the house.

“Angel?”

She became aware of the urgency in Wes's voice. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, I think someone is watching me from inside the house. I'm going to head to the door. Pray for me. Bye.” She clicked the phone off. Angel wasn't sure why she'd called Wes. She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone else.

Before she went to bed last night, she had mapped out the route to the Mancini home. She had prayed to God during the entire thirty-minute drive that if this wasn't the right thing to do, He would stop her.

When she'd left the house, the sun was shining bright, but at some point in her journey clouds had gathered, bringing raindrops. Through the short rainstorm, Angel had kept driving.

She looked at the house again and said to herself, “Okay, let's do this.” As she walked toward the front door, she could smell wet grass and see raindrops lingering on the flowers. The clouds had pulled back, allowing the sun's rays to break through.

She took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. A few minutes later she heard a woman's voice behind the door say, “If you are a reporter, go away.”

Angel frowned and answered back. “I'm not a reporter. I'm here to see Angelino Mancini. Is he here?” Angel assumed the woman must be her dad's wife.

The door opened from inside, and Angel could see the shape of a woman through the screen door. The woman responded tartly, “Yes, can I help you . . . ?” The woman stopped talking and then opened the screen door. Angel stepped away from the door quickly as the woman stuck her head out. The woman stared at her. “You?”

Angel did a double take. She'd seen this woman before. It was the strange woman from Lenora's bridal shop. Angel said, “I saw you last week.”

“Yes, I was there getting my daughter's dress fitted. Are you here about the dress?” the woman questioned her.

Angel felt really warm all of sudden, and it had nothing to do with the sun shining on her back. Why did she not think her father would have another family? A wife and a daughter? “Maybe I should come back.” She turned around.

“Wait,” the woman called out to her. “Your father would want to meet you.”

Angel spun around and narrowed her eyes. “You know who I am?”

The woman shook her head. “I knew who you were when I saw you last week. You look so much like your mother. I'm Leslie. Why don't you come in? Your father will be back in a few minutes.”

Angel stared at the woman, taking in her blond hair and blue eyes, which were so very different from those of her chocolate-skinned mother. She wondered again what had driven her parents together and ultimately apart.

Inside the house on the cul-de-sac, Angel took in the high ceiling and the staircase that led up to a second floor. Leslie showed her into the living room, which was off to the side. Angel followed her, her sneakers sinking into the plush white carpet. She had a feeling her father had indeed done very well and Leslie enjoyed decorating the home.

Before taking a seat, Angel glimpsed at photos of a young girl with tanned skin and brunet hair on a table behind the couch. She asked, “Your daughter?”

“That's Celeste.” Leslie walked over to the other side of the room and picked up a framed photo of another child. “You recognize this little girl?”

Angel did a double take for a second time. Of all the scenarios she'd imagined, she clearly hadn't expected this. The little caramel-skinned girl with the curly ponytail was definitely a mini-version of her staring back at her from the photo. Her eyes blurred as she looked away from the image. This wasn't making sense. Her father had never reached out to her all these years. Why would his wife recognize Angel and have a photo of her in the living room?

“Would you like something to drink?” Leslie asked.

Angel shook her head, although it felt like something had found its way into her air passages and was lodged there. She cleared her throat. “Why did you think I was a reporter?”

Leslie clasped her hands. “Oh, there was a reporter here a few weeks ago. Sometimes it's best to leave the past alone.”

Angel frowned and started to ask Leslie what she meant, but the front door opened, interrupting her. Leslie looked at her and then walked briskly out of the room.

Angel rubbed her head, experiencing a swift feeling of coldness, then warmth, come over her. Her stomach churned as she faced the man who'd entered the room.

She recognized her father's face, despite his extra weight and graying temples. His eyes were locked on her and were brimming with emotion. Was he excited or horrified to see her? She couldn't tell.

After a few seconds, he spoke. “I always knew this day would come. It's good to finally see you again, Angel.”

Leslie smiled and touched her husband on the shoulder. “I will leave you two alone.”

She watched Leslie leave and stared at her father, still not quite sure what to say.

He asked, “Why don't we sit down?”

She waited for him to pass by and sit in a chair that must have been his chair. A large flat-screen TV stood in a tall cabinet with doors. She sat down on the couch, her eyes studying other parts of the room before landing on his face.

He said, “So, you are a videographer. I've seen your work. It's really good.”

Her mouth felt cottony as words tumbled out. “How do you know about me? And how does your wife knows who I am?” She had more questions now that she was here.

He leaned forward. “I know you have many questions, but I've never forgotten you. I have sent you cards and gifts every year. Especially on your birthday and again at Christmas. At some point I hoped your family would understand we needed to have a relationship. It's one of the reasons I wanted to move back east. I was hoping we could meet again.”

Angel shook her head. “I have never received anything from you.”

Her father's shoulders sagged. “That figures. Even after the police cleared me as a person of interest, your grandparents forbade me from contacting you.”

“Well, what happened that night? I remember you both were shouting at each other. Then you came into my room and brought me my birthday present. You said, ‘Happy birthday, princess.' Then you were gone. I wound up the back of the music box and watched the ballerina go round and round until I grew sleepy. I must have fallen asleep, because I opened my eyes and felt my mother kiss me on my forehead, and then she was gone. It's like I lost both of you the same night.”

“I'm so sorry, Angel.”

“Tell me, what did you say to her?”

“I just talked to her. I wanted us to get back together.”

“Why did you break up?”

“We were both young. She wanted her singing career. I was moving my way up in the boxing division. We were just on two different paths.”

“So you came to beg her to come back to you? Why then?”

Angelino looked at her for a long time. “You look so much like her. Your mother wanted to be a star. The stage was where she loved to be the most. I loved her voice. She could move me to tears. After she had you, she waited a long time to get a record deal. She finally got an offer.”

“And?”

“I told her not to take the deal. She was furious and accused me of trying to hold her back. I told her she just needed to be patient. The record company wasn't reputable. She wouldn't have the long career she had always wanted. I wasn't the only one who warned her. Her dad and Jacob told her the same thing.”

“Really? What did you know about the company?”

“Royal Records was the company. They came up fast and heavy in about two years. There was some shadiness around some of the artists, not that they didn't have legitimate talent. I checked around with some friends in the industry and a lawyer. I knew Elisa wouldn't. She had gotten to a point where she wasn't listening to anyone.”

Angelino rubbed his head much the way Angel had rubbed hers a while ago. He sat back in his chair and sighed. “One of their artists, a one-hit-wonder rapper, was killed a few weeks after Elisa was offered the deal. That should have set off all kinds of alarms for her. I told her she really should think this through. The music industry was hard on a person. You were young and needed your mother.”

Angel watched her father's face. He seemed in pain, as if he had really wanted to save her mother. “Why would they suspect you did something to her?” she asked.

Angelino sighed. “I loved your mother, but we did fight. She knew what she wanted. I wanted what I had growing up. A family.” He looked at her. “How is your family?”

“My granddad passed away a few months ago, complications of diabetes. Grams suffered a stroke a few weeks ago.”

“Ah, kid! So sorry to hear. Your grandparents were beautiful people. They accepted me in Elisa's life. It always hurt me that they thought I did something to her. I would have never hurt her. I want you to believe me.”

Angel wasn't sure what to believe.

“I hope you received the birthday card I sent recently. You turned twenty-five about two weeks ago. That's how old she was when . . .”

She looked at him. “I never saw it.” She stood. “I need to go. Thanks for seeing me.”

He stood with her. “I hope you will come back. Get to know Leslie and Celeste. Your sister.”

She'd always wanted a sibling, but this was enough for today. Angel turned and headed out of the living room. When she reached the front door, her father opened it and said, “Anytime. You are welcome here anytime.”

Angel gazed into her father's eyes, still stunned by the warmth she saw. She nodded and walked toward the car, not daring to look back. Tears blurred her vision. She was having a difficult time envisioning the man she had just met being the monster her family had painted him to be. Or was he the worse monster of all? The kind you couldn't see until it was too late?