A Distant Memory

by Traci DePree

  A prayer seemed to well up of its own accord. “Lord, if she is alive, where is she? Keep her safe. Clear her mind of whatever web is encasing it, and bring her home.”

  THE SUNSHINE WAS ALMOST BLINDING after the rain of the previous day. It glistened off the wet Copper Mill streets as Kate drove back to Willy’s Bait and Tackle. Her nerves fluttered in her stomach. If Willy had done something to Sonja, how would he react to Kate’s mention of the scarf? Was it the wisest course to talk to him alone?

  Finally she decided to ask Livvy to come along. Since it was still early and the library didn’t open until later that day, Livvy readily agreed. Kate picked her up on the way.

  The bait shop door squeaked as Kate and Livvy came inside. Kip was talking to a young man in the aisle that contained live bait. His eyes widened when he saw Kate. She didn’t miss his glance at Willy, who was seated behind the checkout counter, bent over the Copper Mill Chronicle from the previous week and eating a powdered doughnut.

  Willy’s eyes narrowed when he saw Kate. It was so unusual for the man, who was generally very gregarious and kindhearted, that Kate felt a moment of panic. Had he sensed her reason for coming?

  “Good morning,” Kate and Livvy said as one.

  “You paid a call to my wife,” he said to Kate in a low tone, a threat lying just beneath the surface.

  Kate wasn’t sure how to reply. She met his gaze levelly and said simply, “I’m just trying to find out what happened to Sonja Weaver.”

  “I told you, I don’t know anything about that!”

  “Okay,” Kate said, holding up her hands.

  “We’re not trying to make you upset, Willy,” Livvy said as she fidgeted nervously with the strap of her handbag.

  Kip had edged closer to them; Kate glimpsed his shirt just around the corner, in the nearest aisle. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she knew there was no way around it.

  “Willy, why did you suddenly decide to take your wife on a weekend getaway?” she asked, deciding to start with the most benign revelation in hopes that, given the opportunity to lay out the details himself, he would take it.

  He breathed out loudly through his nose. “Can’t a guy surprise his wife? What’s the crime in that?”

  “No one said anything about a crime,” Livvy said.

  “We’re here as friends,” Kate put in. Then lowering her voice, she added, “I know about the scarf.”

  Willy’s face reddened, and Kate heard Kip’s footsteps moving away.

  “Who told you?” he said.

  “Sally showed it to me,” Kate replied. “It matches the description of the one that Sonja Weaver had...one that’s missing.”

  “I...uh.” His eyes darted past Kate as if he was thinking of bolting.

  “Just tell us what happened, Willy,” Kate said, trying to maintain calm.

  Willy straightened, but it was already too late. Kate could see that he obviously knew he couldn’t explain this away.

  “Okay,” he said in a small voice. “But let’s go outside.”

  He led Kate and Livvy to a picnic table out the back door. Copper Mill Creek gurgled past innocently, and a chickadee landed on a branch overhead.

  Willy settled across from the women. They waited patiently for him to begin.

  “I’d gone out to fish after lunch,” he said slowly. “The shop had been quiet, so I thought why not? Kip was here to manage the store.” He shrugged. “I’d been at the creek maybe two hours when you and Livvy happened by.”

  He lifted his gaze to the stream and pursed his lips. “Not long after that, Sonja arrived, maybe half an hour, forty-five minutes later. She was panting hard as if she’d been runnin’, and she was confused, upset about something. Lookin’ for that dog. I hadn’t seen the animal, but she was...not right.”

  “Meaning what?” Kate asked.

  “She was all wild-eyed, and just not herself. Crazylike. I told her I’d take her home. But she flipped out, called me a liar and started screamin’ for help. She kept callin’ me Ronnie, then she tore off up the hill toward the woods.”

  Kate had been right; her heart was thumping. The shouting she had heard that day was Sonja’s frantic, confused cry.

  Willy went on, “I started after her, but I slipped in the mud goin’ up the hill. That was how my boots got so muddy. She must’ve gotten tangled in that bush where her jacket was found in the woods, though I’m just guessin’ on that. I didn’t see her anymore once she was above the hill. And the way she was runnin’...” He shook his head sadly from side to side and met Kate’s gaze. “I promise that was all that happened. I saw the scarf lyin’ on the trail when I went to my car later and picked it up. I thought I’d take it to Sonja later, after she’d calmed down, but my wife found it and jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

  “So why did you leave town?” Kate asked.

  Willy pulled out a cloth handkerchief and wiped his sweating brow. Then he said, “When I heard she’d gone missin’, well...” He looked at Livvy, then at Kate, pleading with his eyes for them to believe him. “Well, I panicked. There was an awful lot of evidence pointin’ at me. Who knew if anyone would believe my story?”

  “But you kept the police from knowing the truth,” Kate said, upset that so much time had passed without this information being known. “If the police had known, it might’ve opened the door to finding Sonja before it was too late.”

  Willy’s eyes clouded, and he shook his head. “I was thinkin’ of myself,” he admitted. “I didn’t want the police to think I’d done anything wrong.”

  His story answered several questions: why his boots were muddy, why he panicked and left town, and why he had Sonja’s scarf. But it didn’t answer whether he knew who the man in purple was or if that person was connected with Sonja’s disappearance.

  “I was wrong not to speak up,” he admitted.

  “Did you see the man in the purple sweatshirt?” Kate pressed on. “The one in the photograph?”

  “I was telling the truth about that. I never saw anyone besides Sonja. You have to believe me. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all. I never hurt her, and I sure didn’t know who that other guy was.” This time his gaze was constant, no shifting eyes or looking at the ground.

  “All right,” Kate said, still processing the scenario, though she was inclined to believe Willy this time around. “When Sonja called you Ronnie, did she say a last name?”

  “Gilbert,” he said. “Ronnie Gilbert.”

  The name wasn’t familiar to Kate. “Any idea who that is?”

  Willy shook his head. “Only that he’s someone she was terrified of.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I feel just terrible,” Willy said. “If my actions caused her to...”

  Kate placed a hand on his. “You can’t change the past,” she said, “but you can make things right now. Tell the authorities what happened.”

  He nodded, and Kate handed him her phone so he could call the deputy’s office. She glanced at Livvy, who looked amazed at the turn of events.

  When he finished the call, he handed Kate’s cell phone back. Relief filled his face. He shook his head. “Skip’s comin’ over right away,” he said, pausing before going on. “It’s a funny thing. I’m not afraid anymore. All week I’ve been so nervous. But now I’m okay.”

  Kate and Livvy said farewell just as Skip pulled in front of the bait and tackle shop. Clouds were rolling in, and Kate could feel impending rain in the air as she and Livvy climbed into her Honda to head to the library so Livvy could get to work. So much for their sunny day.

  “Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Livvy asked as she tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear and fastened her seat belt.

  Kate turned in her seat as she considered the conversation they’d just had with Willy. He hadn’t acted shifty-eyed and nervous as he had in their prior talk. Sure, he’d been angry and defensive, but when the story eventually came out, he’d seemed somehow calmer. He’
d looked Kate in the eye and expressed earnest remorse for his lack of truthfulness. Finally she said, “Yes, I think he’s telling the truth.”

  She turned the key in the ignition, and the car rumbled to life. By the time they arrived at the library mere minutes later, rain was coming down in torrents.

  “Ah,” Livvy groaned. “It couldn’t have waited two more minutes for me to get inside?”

  Kate chuckled as they watched the rain wash the windshield. “His story”—Kate returned to the topic of Willy—“raises something new. Becky mentioned that her folks had an argument that morning, and Brian had an incident the night before of sneaking out and then coming home late. Brian said that Sonja was upset with him.” She turned to meet Livvy’s gaze. “So maybe there wasn’t any foul play.”

  There was still the matter of the life-insurance policy, and Sonja’s behavior, as attested to by Willy, was consistent with someone who had dementia, or if not dementia, something else. So it would’ve made sense, as Becky had said, for Brad to take out a policy because of that even before there was any diagnosis. Kate wasn’t sure whether depression caused such erratic behavior.

  “But you do still have circumstantial evidence,” Livvy reminded her.

  “Believe me, I know!” Kate laughed, then sobered. “But we have to look at this from all sides. If Sonja did have Alzheimer’s, maybe she drowned, and we need to still be scouring the creek banks.”

  The rain seemed to have lessened, and Livvy reached for her handbag. “So what do you propose?” she asked.

  “I propose finding out who Ronnie Gilbert is. Maybe he’s our mystery man in purple.”

  Livvy said good-bye and went into the library while Kate remained in the car. Brad was her best guess for answering the question of who Ronnie Gilbert was. She tried calling him at his home number, but the call went to voice mail. Next she tried his cell.

  “Hey, Kate,” he said when he picked up. “What’s up?” He sounded winded, and Kate could hear the sound of a woman’s voice in the background.

  “I hope it’s okay that I called your cell. I tried to get ahold of you at home,” she said.

  “Of course it’s okay. You wouldn’t be able to get me at home anyway. I’m out of town until tonight.”

  She was surprised that he hadn’t mentioned a trip. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  “It’s just a little...business trip.” The answer seemed odd considering the man was unemployed. Finally he supplied, “Another interview.”

  “Oh,” Kate said, her curiosity far from sated. “I’m wondering if you can answer a question for me.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you have any idea who Ronnie Gilbert is?” she asked.

  Brad was quiet for a moment. “No, why?”

  “Willy Bergen confessed to seeing Sonja the day she disappeared. He said she was disoriented and kept calling him Ronnie.”

  “He saw her?” Brad’s voice rose. “He told the police he didn’t see her. Now he did? When did you talk to him?”

  Kate wasn’t sure how to answer him. Finally she decided on the truth. Perhaps Willy’s story would lead to more information from Brad, if he had anything to do with his wife’s disappearance. Though a life-insurance policy and arguments were hardly proof of foul play.

  She told him about Willy seeing Sonja at the water’s edge, her frantic state at losing the dog, calling Willy “Ronnie Gilbert,” and running away.

  When she finished, Brad said, “He saw her flee the area, and he didn’t say a word?”

  Kate could hear the anger in his voice. She couldn’t blame him. His wife’s very survival might have been linked to the man’s actions, and yet he’d done nothing.

  “The police searched the woods for days, and he’s saying that she wasn’t even in the woods? That they wasted good time that they could’ve been searching elsewhere?” He paused. “Kate, I held a memorial service for her!”

  “Willy didn’t say he saw her leave the woods,” Kate corrected gently. “Just that she ran away from him up the hill. Willy said she seemed very agitated and confused.” Pausing, Kate wondered if she should bring up the reason she thought Sonja was upset that day. Deciding to probe a little further, she added, “I know that she was likely upset about losing the dog, and the Alzheimer’s probably figured into that. The kids mentioned that you and Sonja argued that morning.”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “We argued.” Regret filled his voice. “Should we call the police with this to see if they’ll reopen the case?” he asked.

  “Willy already did,” Kate said. “Skip is probably still at the bait shop talking to him.”

  “So maybe they’ll reopen the case,” Brad said.

  Kate could hear the hope in his tone—hope resurrected. But Brad’s hope was quickly crushed. He called Kate back within the hour to inform her that the police didn’t see any reason to reopen the case. Sonja still hadn’t come home, and no body had been found. There were no new leads to follow up on, and until something dramatic happened, they were done with Sonja Weaver.

  BACK AT THE LIBRARY later that morning, Kate tried to forget what the sheriff’s department had said to Brad. She was searching online, trying to discover exactly who Ronnie Gilbert was. She didn’t want to believe that Sonja was dead. Not when there was a new lead to follow up on. She typed in the mysterious name and waited while Livvy stood behind her. A moment later, up popped several links bearing the name, the top one an obituary.

  As soon as Livvy saw it, she pulled up the vacant chair from the next computer station and sat down. “An obituary,” she murmured, echoing Kate’s curiosity.

  Kate clicked on the link and up popped a photo with a write-up on the handsome, young-looking man who’d died in 1982. She read the article:

  BERRY HILL—Ronald Edward Gilbert, 18, of Berry Hill, TN, died Friday, April 17, 1982, at Baptist Hospital in Nashville.

  Ronnie was born on April 13, 1964, to Roger and Elaine (Hammes) Gilbert. He was a senior at Hillsboro High School.

  Berry Hill. That was the town Becky mentioned—Sonja’s hometown. She looked at Livvy, her eyes filled with disbelief.

  “This boy died a long time ago,” Livvy said.

  “But he’s from Sonja’s hometown. They might have even been in the same graduating class,” Kate said. “It’s got to be the same person.”

  “But how could it be? Why would Sonja be afraid of a dead person?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The discovery of the obituary left Kate stumped. Ronnie Gilbert had died decades ago. Sonja would have been a mere teenager. She glanced at Livvy as a thought came to her.

  “Brad didn’t know who Ronnie Gilbert was, but Judy Connelly has been Sonja’s best friend since first grade.”

  Livvy’s eyes lit up. “I know where you’re going next, Sherlock,” she teased.

  Kate reached for her handbag and said farewell to Livvy, then headed to Hamilton Road Florist. It was close to noon when Kate walked into the small shop. Judy was tying a ribbon on a Mylar balloon for a teenaged customer when Kate arrived, so Kate waited in front of the refrigerated glass display of tulips and roses in a plethora of color. The scent of freshly cut flowers brought reminders of spring to Kate’s nose.

  The girl paid for her birthday balloon and a small bouquet of carnations and left the store.

  Judy turned her attention to Kate. “Hey, Kate,” she greeted.

  Kate returned the formality, then lowered her voice as another patron came into the store. She glanced at the customer, an elderly gentleman with a thick gray mustache and a bald head. “It looks like you’re busy. Do you think you’ll have a little time to talk?”

  “In a bit,” Judy promised with a smile, then went to wait on the man. When he finally left, Judy waved Kate to the back of the shop, and they took up the stools they’d sat on before.

  “You look troubled,” Judy observed, her brows knitting together in concern. “What is it?”

  “Does the name Ronnie Gilbert sound familiar?”
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  Judy’s face went white, and a hand went involuntarily to cover her mouth. “Where did you hear that name?” she whispered.

  “I talked to Willy Bergen this morning. It seems he did see Sonja by the creek that day.”

  “He did?”

  Kate nodded. “He said she wasn’t herself, that she called him by that name—Ronnie Gilbert.”

  Judy shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “Ronnie died when we were in high school.”

  “That’s why I thought I’d ask you. I found his obituary on the Internet,” Kate said. “Brad hadn’t heard of him. Who was he?”

  Judy still seemed to be in shock. Finally she let out a long breath. “He was Sonja’s boyfriend in high school. After she broke up with him, he became obsessed with her to the point of stalking her. He’d leave notes on her car, and they’d find chairs on the lawn outside her bathroom window...He’d watch her. Scary, scary stuff.

  “It was like he went off the deep end. He’d show up at her house in the middle of the night, and he threatened any boy who so much as looked at her. Her parents finally got a restraining order against him, but that only increased his obsession. One day he came to an audition in Nashville where Sonja was trying out for a backup singing part in a show. He was angry, came right into the theater. He made up a story about being Sonja’s brother and that she needed to get home right away because someone in the family was hurt. Sonja tried to tell bystanders that he was lying, but he grabbed her and basically dragged her out of the theater while people watched. No one did a thing. They just let him take her...” Judy shook her head, her eyes filled with the horrific memory of that time.

  Kate’s heart broke for Sonja, to have suffered so much at such a tender age.

  Judy inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “Kate, I can’t even talk about the things he did to her. The police arrested him, but Sonja wasn’t the same for a very long time. She was a wreck. She gave up acting and singing. Her dreams kind of died. Then Ronnie died not too long after that, in a car accident. He’d been drinking. That was like the nail in the coffin for Sonja. She couldn’t forgive herself, though it wasn’t her fault in any way.” Judy lifted her gaze. “She never talked about him after that. I doubt she even told Brad who he was. She wanted to forget, and Brad, he was perfect. They fell in love, and it was as if none of that awful stuff had ever happened.”