When Memories Fade

by Tyora Moody

  They had finally reached the parking lot. Angel was grateful that civilization was about twenty minutes away.

  Maria said, “We really appreciate your willingness to come up here.”

  “Not a problem. It’s really beautiful up here. I guess I always thought being out in the woods meant camping, but the inside of the one cabin we went into was really nice.”

  “Oh yeah,” John replied. “Most of these cabins these days have saunas, Jacuzzis, Wi-Fi, and flat-screen televisions.” He laughed. “Believe me, it’s like going away for a while, but you have all the amenities that you need.”

  “Cool,” Angel responded. “Well, it was great hanging out with you two today. I will see you in about two weeks. I know the ceremony will be beautiful.” Thankfully, the couple was having an indoor wedding. When they’d e-mailed their original request, they were thinking about an outdoor wedding. Maybe if it was on a beach, Angel would love to film an outdoor wedding, but after today she had no intentions of heading back to the woods.

  She packed up her gear and loaded it into the car. John and Maria had walked to the other side of the parking space, to John’s SUV. Despite her body’s stickiness, Angel kind of liked the peacefulness of the surroundings. It was just so hot. The sun was really burning now. They had arrived around nine o’clock this morning to get started, but all that crazy hiking up the trail with her camera seemed to take forever. All she wanted was a shower and lunch. She closed the trunk of her car and waved to the couple as they drove by her.

  As she opened the car door, Angel noted the map on her passenger seat. She scolded herself because she would have to figure out the way back. Angel always forgot to get the reverse directions when she printed out the maps. She had tried her phone earlier and knew the 3G wasn’t working out in the woods.

  A bird burst from the left side of her vision, startling her. She looked at the bird, but then another movement caught her eye. Angel stared into the trees. She had this creepy feeling that she wasn’t alone. There was no one else out here that she could see. For some reason, Melanie Stowe’s face came to mind. Angel stared for a second longer into the trees and then jumped into her car, slamming the door shut and locking it. Okay, you are freaking yourself out, girl. Then she laughed. There was probably some animal looking back at her, wondering what she was doing out there.

  If she hadn’t been moving so slowly, she could have followed John and Maria out. Angel turned the key in the ignition, observing the trees again. Something still felt off. Maybe she had watched too many horror movies when she was younger. All of them had some “crazy in the woods” scene, which might explain why she really didn’t like being in the woods. Still, in her case it was broad daylight, and she had no reason to let her imagination run wild.

  Angel placed the car in reverse and backed up. It took her a few minutes to find her way back to I-85, but soon she was on her way home. Her weird “cabin in the woods” moment was behind her.

  About thirty minutes later, Angel pulled into the driveway. Inside she found Grams at the window in her wheelchair. The nurse, Ella Mae, was sitting on the couch.

  “Hey. How’s it going?” Angel placed her camera bag on the floor and walked over to Grams. She leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

  Grams said, “I’m good.”

  Her grandmother still slurred her words a bit, but Angel could understand her better now. “Well, you look good. I need to take a shower. I’ve been out in the woods today. Can you believe that?”

  Ella Mae stood and walked over to pat and adjust Grams’s pillow. She asked, “What were you doing, sugar?”

  “Did I tell you what I do? I’m a videographer. I make videos for a living. Today I shot some footage that will be included in the wedding video package a couple purchased. Most of my business this time of the year comes from weddings.”

  “Oh, well, that must be fun. I love weddings.” Ella Mae clasped her hands together. “Never had one of my own weddings.”

  “No?” Angel inquired.

  “Child, the man I hooked up with was not the marrying kind. You would’ve thought by the time I got to child number three, I would have realized that. I can be slow. You make sure you find the marrying kind of man, you hear?”

  Angel laughed and headed down the hallway to peel off her clothes and take a shower. About a half hour later, feeling fresh and clean, she came back into the living room with her laptop under her arm.

  “Thanks for your help today. I know you didn’t have to stay longer,” she told Ella Mae.

  “Not a problem.” Ella Mae reached for her big purse and swung it on her shoulder. “Well, you two have a good rest of the afternoon, and I will see you both tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Ella Mae. We appreciate all that you do.” Angel closed the door behind her. “Grams, you want to sit here for a while longer?” she asked.

  Her grandmother nodded and looked back out the window.

  Angel started to grab her laptop but then thought she was being rude by not spending time with Grams. She could ingest the video she took later. There was plenty of time to edit. Angel asked, “Hey, Grams, you want your hair brushed? Candace did a great job with your hair. Maybe we can get her to come back.”

  Her grandmother smiled. Angel went to get Grams’s brush from her bedroom. When she was younger, Grams would gently brush her hair and then let Angel do the same. Angel had always enjoyed that time. Angel pulled a chair from the dining room into the living room and set it down beside Grams’s wheelchair. She sat down and glided the brush gently through her grandmother’s silver hair.

  Her grandmother began humming. Angel smiled. She always knew Grams was happy or working her way toward finding a peaceful spot when she hummed. She listened. Angel knew the hymn Grams was humming. Soon she was humming with her. Pass me not, O gentle Savior, hear my humble cry.

  Angel surprised herself and opened her mouth to sing, “While on others thou art calling, do not pass me by.” She hadn’t sung out loud for her grandmother since she was a little girl. Angel wasn’t sure why.

  Grams smiled at her and said, “My Angel, my sweet Angel.”

  Angel reached down and wrapped her arms around her grandmother, feeling the boniness of her age and enjoying the warmth of her spirit. This was peace.

  Chapter Thrity-five

  Melanie banged as hard as she could again and again on the thick glass window. She knew someone was out there or had been out there. There was a scream. She had fallen into another fitful sleep. Her body was feeling the pain of hunger. Her eyes had shot open to a woman’s scream.

  She’d run to the bathroom window and held her ear against the glass. If only she had something she could use to break the stupid glass. She had checked all corners of the room for anything sharp. Melanie had even tried digging around the seal with her fingernails to loosen the window frame, which was pretty useless. One day as she was digging, Mister—that was what she called him—had come in the room. She had stood still for a split second, had flushed the toilet, and then had ventured out into the bedroom.

  Their eyes had connected. For the first time, she’d seen his face. He was an older man, and she felt like she’d seen him before. Not saying one word, he’d pulled out the usual food items from a bag.

  “How long are you going to keep me here? What are you planning to do?” she had asked.

  “That’s up to your father,” he had answered and then had left.

  Her father. This was all about her father. The man didn’t care anything about her. She didn’t even know where he was, only that he’d shown up at the American Voices show. At least someone had told her he was there. He must have thought he could get something from her being on the show. She had refused to acknowledge his presence.

  What had he done to get her in this mess?

  Her dad was fun when she was a little girl. Later he always smelled like alcohol and could never keep a job. Mom had grown sick of him, and then, finally, she was really sick. Even as her mother was in
and out of the hospital, Melanie couldn’t depend on her father to be there for her.

  She still couldn’t figure out why Gladys had married her dad, but she was grateful that Gladys had tried to look after her when her dad went to prison. There was no one else. Her father’s family was certainly not going to help. One of them had been killed when she was in high school, and the other was in prison. Both grandparents were gone. Her mother’s sister had offered to help, but she wanted Melanie to move to Oklahoma. There was no way Melanie was going to leave her friends.

  Melanie waited at the window a while longer. She knew what she’d heard. Someone was out there. She listened and heard another noise. It came from inside this place. He was back! She walked out into the bedroom and sat on the bed.

  Maybe he did something to the woman, and that was why she screamed.

  Melanie waited for the door to open. What was he going to do to her?

  Chapter Thirty-six

  After talking to Angel, Wes was a bit anxious to learn more about that unidentified body. He couldn’t seem to turn his thoughts away from the possibilities of the story aspect, so he looked up more information about the Bring Them Home Foundation. He also started to expand on his theory about the missing women a bit more. Suppose the two cases, though twenty years apart, were connected. It was probably one of the crazier angles he had ever conceived of for a story, but the what-if was too enticing not to look into it further.

  He didn’t want to ask any direct questions about the information Angel had given him, knowing she had confided in him as a friend, but he decided to contact Jennifer.

  The woman was warm and friendly on the phone. “How can we help you, Mr. Cade? I enjoy your reports on WYNN.”

  “I’m working on a story about Melanie Stowe. It’s been over three weeks since she went missing. I understand your organization has helped with coordinating the search efforts. What’s next? Say her body was found somewhere without ID on it, how would she be identified?”

  “Well, we certainly hope that isn’t the case. The process starts with the medical examiner’s office. If they are not able to identify a body, they will extract DNA samples. The samples are then entered into the Combined DNA Index System, or CODIS, database, which is managed by the FBI. This database can run matches against anyone who has been reported missing.”

  “How are DNA samples obtained for the database?” Wes asked.

  “Well, our organization helps inform family members on how to provide items. A toothbrush is a very good item to provide. A hairbrush, as long as it hasn’t been used by anyone else in the household, often provides good DNA samples. Then there are dental records in cases where the body has become decomposed.”

  “How would I be able to find out about any missing persons that may fit similar demographics?”

  “You may be able to find some information in the NamUs database, but keep in mind many people go missing that are not reported.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate your time.”

  For the next few hours, Wes pulled up profiles and made notes. It did surprise him to see the sheer number of adults that went missing every year. It was like they just vanished. No clues, no body. Just nothing.

  He’d printed out information on two African American women who were similar in age, early twenties, and who had gone missing between the time Elisa disappeared and now Melanie. Wes wasn’t sure if he would discover any further connections, but finding out the truth had become important to him. He looked at the clock on his computer and realized he needed to get going if he wanted to get a seat at Southern Soul Café.

  An hour later, Wes recognized the song playing as he walked into Southern Soul Café. Tonight the restaurant had been transformed into an event venue. The stage, which was normally filled with tables and chairs for patrons, had been cleared. The current members of the band were on the stage, but they weren’t playing. The artist on the stage who was performing had a DJ accompanying him. It was the same young man he’d seen at Minister J.D.’s recording studio earlier this week. Shadrach had the crowd up and moving as he spoke his lyrics in rapid-fire fashion over the hypnotic beat.

  Wes thought, Nice! Shadrach certainly had his vote for tonight’s talent show. He looked around the room. The first person he laid his eyes on was Angel. She was behind the camera, capturing the stage and the crowd’s reaction. Wes couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out just to have fun on a Friday night. He was always so focused on a story. When Angel had mentioned the talent show, he’d figured it would be another opportunity to spend time with her. He didn’t want to disturb her right now.

  He scanned the crowd and saw Darnell sitting at a table with Candace. Wes started to head toward them but was tapped on the shoulder. He turned to see Minister J.D. Wes held out his hand and shook hands with him.

  “Hey, Minister J.D.”

  “Good to see you. I hope you are paying attention to Shadrach up there. He’s spitting fire tonight.”

  Wes responded, “He sure is. The crowd loves him, and he’s spreading the gospel in his own way. I hope he gets far.”

  The minister nodded. “Yes, he’s God’s messenger. That’s going to be the title of his album, by the way.”

  “You have a lot of plans for him.”

  “I do. He’s like a son. Plus, I remember how I was at his age. Just wanting to get into the game and be out there on the stage. Shadrach is doing it right. Using his skills to glorify the Lord. I just want him to always keep that at the front of everything he does. The music business can be brutal.”

  “I can imagine.” Wes wasn’t planning to do any more work tonight, but he asked, anyway. “So, I thought I saw Larry Stowe the other day, when I left you. How’s he doing?”

  Minister J.D. turned his attention from the stage to Wes. “Larry, he’s doing as well as he can. He’s sober, which is good, but now he is really depressed, now that he knows Melanie is missing.”

  “He really didn’t know his daughter was missing?” Wes shook his head.

  “Hey, don’t judge. Some people have demons that ride them hard, and they don’t know how to deal with them or who to go to. Larry was and still is a good guy. He was always clowning around. After we all lost K-Dawg, it just changed the dynamics for all of us. We all reacted to his death in different ways. Larry would never really drink, but after K-Dawg’s death, he started drinking heavily. He would get into all kinds of get-rich schemes, trying to get cash flow. It catches up with you.”

  Wes nodded his head. “You are right. All of us can walk down the wrong path.”

  “We have free will, so we can at any time step out and make the wrong choices. The awesome thing is God is always there, whispering in our ear to turn around, to come to Him, and let Him direct our paths. Boy, you about to have me preach up in here.”

  Wes laughed. “It was good talking to you again, Minister. I hope Shadrach does well tonight.”

  Wes headed toward the table where Darnell and Candace sat. “You two lovebirds mind if I take a seat?”

  “Hey, man, come on and grab a chair.” Darnell had his arm casually around the chair on which Candace sat.

  Wes sat down and looked toward the back of the café again.

  Candace asked, “You checking out my girl, Angel?”

  “Oh, you know he is.” Darnell winked.

  Wes rubbed his forehead, knowing the grin on his face spoke volumes about his feelings for Angel. “I didn’t want to disturb her. She’s working tonight.”

  Candace said, “I’m sure she will be happy to see you. Did you know she was going to sing tonight?”

  “Really? She’s going to be a contestant in the talent show?”

  “No. She’s going to sing with Southern Soul at the end of the show. I did her hair today, and she was so nervous about it. Never sang in front of an audience before. I told her, ‘Just do your thing, girl.’”

  “Wow.” Wes was really glad he’d come tonight. Angel hadn’t mentioned she would be singing. He’d alway
s wondered if she had inherited her mother’s gift of voice.

  He turned his attention to the stage, where Eddie was introducing the next contestant. A young woman, Janet Bruce, came up onstage with a guitar and sat down on the stool.

  Before she started to sing, Janet said to the audience, “This song is dedicated to a friend of mine. Some of you may know she’s been missing for a few weeks now. I went to high school with Melanie Stowe, and we miss her so much.”

  While Janet sang a ballad, Wes noticed that in the middle of the table where he sat, there was a postcard with Melanie’s face on it. Wes took the postcard and read the bottom, where the Bring Them Home Foundation was listed as a contact. He looked at Melanie’s photo. This was a different photo from the ones that had been circulating, possibly taken before she was on American Voices. A younger Melanie had looked into the camera, her face free of any makeup and her hair pulled up into a ponytail.

  What happened to you? he thought. Wes wondered if it was even possible that she could still be alive. If so, who in the world has you?

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Angel panned the camera around to the audience. It almost felt like they were live on American Voices in Southern Soul Café. Eddie had implemented a superb marketing campaign in such a short period of time, because they really drew a crowd tonight. Latecomers were standing against the wall now to see the live performances.

  She saw Wes come in and sit down at Candace and Darnell’s table. Angel thought, No telling what they are talking about. She was sure Candace would make it known that she was aware of their growing friendship. Angel smiled. She was so happy that Wes took the time to have lunch with her and Grams the other day. Even her uncle Jacob, who was always in an odd mood, had commented that Wes was a good kid. Of course, Wes was clearly no kid.