When Memories Fade (3 page)

“Candace, I just don't know if I can handle this. I just lost Granddad,” Angel confided on the phone.

“Honey, I know. It's only been about six months, right? Look, Fredricka is strong, and she's going to come through. God won't give you more than you can bear.”

Angel felt grateful that Candace Johnson had taken the time from her busy Saturday morning schedule at the Crown of Beauty Salon to encourage her. If anyone knew about going through difficulties, it would be the woman who had become her surrogate big sister in the past year. Angel had observed Candace's strength through the trial of the woman who had murdered both Candace's husband and best friend. It was because of Candace that Angel began participating in the Overcomers Women's Ministry, a ministry that Candace had started at Victory Gospel Church.

Angel confessed, “When we left the church the other night, we argued about my mother.”

“Did you tell her about the project you are working on?” Candace asked.

“No. When I started working on the documentary years ago, everyone seemed to be uptight about me digging up the past. I think Grams thinks my mother is going to walk back into our lives after all this time.”

“Angel, you know your grandmother is a woman of faith, but she would want you to do what you needed to do. Lord knows this has to be hard. I've lost loved ones, but I can't imagine one of them simply disappearing and not knowing what happened to them.” Candace grew quiet and then inquired, “Angel, do you need me to come sit with you? I have a new stylist in the salon now, and she's working out pretty good.”

“No, no. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. I know Saturday mornings are busy.”

“You know how much I love you and Fredricka. You both are family and were there for me and the kids this past year. Be sure to let Fredricka know I will stop by and take care of her hair. I know how she likes to be looking foxy.”

Angel laughed. “She would love that. Thanks, Candace.” After saying good-bye, Angel thought about Wednesday night's birthday surprise, which she now knew Candace had secretly planned. Angel smiled. She'd missed what it felt like to have a genuine friend who cared.

She checked the clock on the wall. Right now Grams needed her. Angel rose from the chair to head back toward the hospital room. The CT scan and MRI had determined that the type of stroke Grams had Wednesday night was the result of a blood clot. Blessedly, they were able to arrive at the hospital in the crucial three-hour time frame for stroke victims, allowing the emergency room doctors to restore Grams's blood flow. Now it was all about preventing a second stroke from occurring.

A bit of aphasia had set in, causing Grams to slur her words, and her right arm was not cooperating. The doctor seemed optimistic that with rehabilitation, Grams's brain would rewire itself, giving her her mobility back. They needed to prepare for rehabilitation for a few weeks in the hospital before Grams could return home.

Angel walked into the hospital room and was startled by a figure in the room. At first she thought her uncle Jacob had snuck past her, but her uncle would never be caught in a cowboy hat. She grinned as the man rose from the seat in the corner, where she'd slept the night before.

“Uncle Eddie.” She crossed the room and hugged the tall, dark man. Eddie Gowins, better known as Eddie G., wasn't really her uncle, but a longtime family friend. He had played the drums in the band with her granddad.

Angel stepped back to look up at him. “I haven't seen you in ages.” Eddie was well over six feet tall, muscular, and almost imposing, especially today with his cowboy hat and boots.

Eddie had stopped smoking a few years ago, but the raspiness remained in his voice. “I heard through the grapevine, Fredricka wasn't doing too good. You know I had to come see about Nick's girl.”

Angel chuckled at Eddie's reference to her almost eighty-year-old grandmother as her granddad's girl. “She will be happy to see you.” Angel sat down at the bottom of the bed.

Eddie G. shook his head. “Man, I miss Nick. He knew how to live life to the fullest. Always admired your grandparents.”

“I miss him too, Eddie.”

For an awkward moment, they sat quietly. Angel folded and then unfolded her arms.

She peered at Eddie and asked, “So how's Denise doing?” She cleared her throat so she wouldn't choke on her next comment about Eddie's daughter. “I hear she is getting married soon.”

Eddie stared at her for a moment before he answered. He shook his head. “Yes. The wedding is later this summer. I was just talking about you the other day. Would be nice if you could film the wedding. I've heard great things about your video business.”

Her business, Angel Media, was booming due to the fact that the wedding season had just begun. She'd worked hard last year starting up the company and putting together a portfolio. Angel felt she brought a unique style to the footage she shot and edited. Despite reservations from her family, she was doing the entrepreneurial thing, something that awed her sometimes.

Angel crossed her arms. Despite her success, she couldn't see offering her services to Denise. How could she when three years ago, Kenneth Morgan, now Denise's fiancé, was the love of Angel's life? That day when Angel walked in on Denise and Kenneth together at his apartment, she'd lost her best friend and boyfriend. Later, when she found out Denise had had a baby boy with Kenneth, Angel lost herself. It had only been by building her business and becoming a Christian in the past year that she'd found her footing.

She shook her head. “Sorry, Eddie. I'm not sure if I could. Don't get me wrong. Things worked out the way they needed to. I just don't know if I should be anywhere near the wedding.” For years, both she and Denise had talked about how they would be the maid of honor at each other's wedding. All that was history now.

“I'm so sorry to see you two girls are not friends anymore. You were like sisters.”

Before she could respond, Angel heard movement behind her. The nurse was rolling Grams back in from rehab. Her grandmother looked at her, but Angel couldn't read Grams's expression, because her eyes lacked the usual spark.

Eddie bowed his head toward Grams, not speaking a word until the nurse helped her back into the bed.

Grams quietly nodded in Eddie's direction.

Eddie bowed his head again. “Fredricka, I just wanted to check on you. You know I promised Nick I would look after you and Angel. I'll come back when you are up to it.” He winked at her and then placed his cowboy hat on his head. “Angel, let's talk soon. I'd like to help you get some business.”

“Thanks, Uncle Eddie.”

As Eddie approached the door, a man swooped in. Both men almost collided with each other.

Her uncle Jacob looked like he hadn't slept in days. His chocolate brown face was covered with a several days old beard peppered with gray. Jacob glared at Eddie. “Eddie. What are you doing here?”

Eddie retorted, “I'm leaving, Jake. No need to upset your mother.”

Angel could hear the tap of Eddie's cowboy boots as he made his way down the hallway. She had never understood why Jacob disliked Eddie. The feelings were mutual. Eddie wasn't too fond of Jacob, either. She had often wondered if the rivalry stemmed from Granddaddy always including Eddie in family events, almost like he was a son.

Grams sputtered, “Jake . . .”

Jacob moved to the side of the bed and leaned his head against Fredricka's forehead. “Mom, it's okay. I'm here. You are going to be all right.”

Angel was glad he was there, but wanted an explanation. “Jacob, I've been trying to reach you.”

Her uncle kept his attention on his mother. “I'm here now, Angel. I will take over from here. Go home and get some rest.”

What?
He was just going to sail in here and dismiss her? Where had he been? He could at least reveal what was up with him and Aunt Liz. Angel's rising emotions were interrupted by her vibrating phone. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the phone. When she looked down at the caller ID, her anger toward her uncle switched to anxiety.

Angel glanced at her family and then slipped out into the hallway to answer the call. “Hello.”

“Angel? Angel Roberts?”

Angel answered, “Yes.”

“Hello. This is Jennifer from the Bring Them Home Foundation. We used to keep in touch with Nick Roberts about cases that came in.”

A few weeks before he passed away, Angel's granddad had given Angel a shoe box full of correspondence, most of it from this organization. “Yes. He passed away late last year. I touched base with someone in your office a few months ago to let you know that I wanted to receive those updates.”

“I will be happy to work with you. I worked with Mr. Roberts for many years. Now Elisa, she's your mother.

“Yes.”

The woman on the other end of the line was quiet for a few seconds. “I do want to warn you this process can be difficult, and it's been a number of years now.”

“I understand. I need to do this.”

“Okay. We have had a few Jane Doe cases come in.”

Angel leaned against the wall and gripped the phone.

“But I'm sorry none of them were a match for your mother.”

Angel let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. “Okay.”

“You know, I preferred not to dash Mr. Roberts's hopes, but he wanted any information we had. I think it was important to him to know we were still actively working to find your mother.”

“We appreciate your organization doing this. Please keep me updated too.”

After saying good-bye, Angel clicked the phone off. It was definitely time for her to move forward. She needed to start by putting together the events that led up to the night her mother disappeared. There had to be some clues people have been overlooking all these years.

There was one man who could help her. Her granddad had lost faith in him, but when Angel started on the documentary a few years back, she realized Detective Lenny Cade's obsession would become her main connection to the past.

Wes turned into the drive of the home where he grew up. It resembled most of the other brick homes with one-car garages in the cul-de-sac. His mother used to spend a lot of time in the garden. As he exited his Honda, Wes noticed a few of the annuals, but the yard definitely had a neglected feel to it.

He unlocked the front door, expecting the smells of a home-cooked meal. Instead he was met by a gloomy quietness. The blinds were closed shut in the living room. Everything about his childhood home seemed so different. Maybe because he was different.

He called out, “Mom!” His mother knew he was coming by. Wes strained his ears and heard voices coming from the bedroom down the hallway. He walked hesitantly toward the open bedroom door with his ear cocked to catch the conversation.

“Dad, Baxter isn't here. Look, please let's get you dressed.”

“Well, where is he? Wanda, we have to find him.”

Wes entered the room. “Mom. Pops.”

Wanda turned toward him, her face weary. “Hey, Wes.”

“Let me help you.” He moved to the other side of his grandfather and grabbed the sleeve that his mother had been trying to help guide Pops's arm through.

Pops looked at him with a faint smile. “Boy, where you been? Did you bring the girl home with you?”

Wes grinned. “Nope. No girl this time, Pops.”

“Wes, you got to help me find Baxter.” Pops's eyes were drooping, and his speech was slurred.

Wes patted his grandfather's shoulder. “Don't worry, Pops. Baxter is fine. Why don't you lay back and enjoy a nap?” Pops seemed to be drifting in and out of a memory from a decade ago. The last time Wes had brought a girl home was when he was in college, right around the time Pops's chocolate Lab, Baxter, had died.

Wanda switched the channels on the television until she found what appeared to be an old black-and-white Western. She turned and smiled. “His favorite.” She nodded for Wes to move toward the door.

Once they both were outside in the hallway, his mom touched his arm. She eyed him. “Seems like every time he sees you, he is asking about some girl. Is there something I should know?”

Wes laughed. “Believe me, I'd like to know too.”

His mother smiled. “Oh, hon, the right girl will come along when you are not looking. I can tell you this here girl is sorry I haven't had a chance to start dinner yet.”

“Mom, don't even sweat it.” Besides, what he really needed was some spiritual food today. After joining Serena at her apartment on Friday night, Wes realized he had grown lethargic about his commitments.

His mother walked ahead down the hall. “Tell me about church. I've missed too many Sundays with Dad needing care. The younger Freeman is pretty much pastoring now, right?”

Reverend Jonathan Freeman had been filling in for his ailing father, senior pastor of Victory Gospel Church, for a year now. Wes followed behind her into the kitchen. “Yes. The older reverend still attends when he is able, but his son delivers the sermons most Sundays now.”

As they entered the small kitchen, Wes stopped and looked around. He had spent many afternoons working on homework at the round country table. He watched his mother open and close cabinets and then open the fridge to stare at the shelves. Wanda put her hands on her hips. “My goodness, Wes, I should have gone grocery shopping. It just slipped my mind.”

Wes responded, “Why don't we eat out?”

Wanda turned and shook her head. “Wes, I can't leave him.”

“Yes, of course. I will pick up some food.” Wes scolded himself for not thinking to grab some food after he left church. He should have known not to expect his mother to fix a Sunday meal. Life was no longer the same.

His mother touched his cheek. “My sweet boy. I sure could put my feet up right about now.” Wanda entered the living room and turned the lamps on. A warmth radiated from the golden lamp shades, pushing the gloominess away. As Wanda sank into the recliner, she said with a sigh, “Honey, whatever you find to eat works for me.”

Wes left the house. As he drove away from the house, he fought back emotions. Pops lost in the past. His mother's weary spirit. He had always had a small family, just Mom and Pops. Both of them seemed so fragile now. He felt like he should be doing more.

Wes pulled into a nearby Chinese restaurant. The restaurant was packed with people dressed in their church clothes. He walked up to the counter and ordered broccoli and chicken, pork fried rice, egg rolls, and wings from the menu. Not the most healthy selections, but this was the kind of meal his mom would bring home after working a long shift at the hospital. He liked seeing her come through the door with the brown paper bag, oftentimes with one side soaked from the food cartons inside.

As he sat waiting for his order, some people recognized him. That was one of the benefits of being a local reporter. He usually liked to talk, but he was in a subdued mood at the moment and just wanted to get back to his family. Like the curious reporter he was, he checked his phone. He wanted to keep up with any leads in the disappearance of that local celebrity, Melanie. Back in the day, his pops would have been on a missing case like this.

“Sir, your order is ready.” The cashier interrupted his scrolling through e-mail.

Wes inhaled the smells coming from the brown bag as he drove back to his mother's house. He was hungrier than he thought. As Wes approached the house, he saw a small white car, what looked like a Toyota Corolla, parked in front of the house. He didn't remember his mother mentioning anything about company. He turned into the drive, cut off the car, and then grabbed the bag. As he headed toward the front door, he noticed a young woman had stepped out of the driver's side of the car. There was something about her face that seemed so familiar. Where had he seen her before?

His reporter's senses kicked in as she approached.

It was hard to tell her age. She was about four inches shorter than him, and her curly black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her face appeared apprehensive as she approached him.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

She stared at his face and then finally stuttered, “Yes, I'm l-looking for Detective Lenny Cade.”

Wes frowned. No one had referred to his grandfather as a detective in years. Pops had been retired about seven years now. “That's my grandfather. May I ask why you are looking for him?”

She looked down at the restaurant bag in his hand. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude. I wondered if this was a good idea.” The woman clasped her small hands and then pulled them apart as she talked. “I just left church, and I've been driving around and around. I thought I would try to see him. Is he here?”

Now more curious, Wes studied the young woman. She looked so familiar to him, but he could not figure out why. “He's not up for company today.”

“Okay. Well, when is a good time to see him?”

Feeling a bit protective of Pops, Wes narrowed his eyes. “Who did you say you were again?”

“I didn't. I'm sorry. I'm being so rude,” she blurted. “My name is Angel. Angel Roberts. Detective Cade was a friend of my grandfather, Nick Roberts. I wanted to ask him some questions about my mother's case. Elisa Roberts.”

Speechless, Wes stared at the woman. That was where the familiarity was coming from. He'd recently seen pictures of Elisa Roberts. He remembered a photo of a little girl. Well, here she was, all grown up
.
She had definitely inherited her mother's beautiful bone structure.

Wes responded, “Why don't you come in? Maybe I can help you.” Maybe they could help each other.