When Memories Fade (6 page)

Melanie had since lost track of the days, but she knew it was daytime. While the window in the room had been boarded up from the outside, inside the bathroom that was off from the bedroom, there was a window made of glass blocks. She had figured out she was in a cabin. Years ago, she remembered visiting a cabin with Lisa and her family. The cabin was up in the mountains, with nothing but trees around it. Melanie placed her face against the glass, feeling the warmth of the sun. She couldn't see clearly but could hear birds fluttering and singing nearby.

Whoever took her wanted to keep her around for a while. She just couldn't figure out why. She tried to think about the people who had come up to her in the club. No one had followed her out of the club that she could remember. There were a lot of creeps who had asked her to dance, but no one stood out to her as a horror movie–type creep. That was exactly the way she felt, like she had been snatched up and dropped in a scene. She laughed out loud. “Could this be another reality show? Let's take a peek inside the life of a woman as she slowly loses her mind.”

She kept leaning her head against the thick glass. Melanie never heard vehicles or voices. Her throat was still raw from yelling over and over again that first day. Melanie returned to the bedroom. The bedroom was at one time probably used a lot. It was decorated like any other cabin bedroom. The quilt on the bed was quaint. She could tell from the dust that adhered to her hands when she touched the furniture that the room had not been used in a while. This didn't help her. There was no telling how far this place was off the map if no one used the place.

She didn't know what was beyond the door. Was anyone else here? She wished there was a television on the stand across from the bed.

Melanie didn't have the best relationship with her stepmother, but she'd let her move back in until she could get a new apartment. Hopefully, she had noticed that Melanie was gone. Even if she hadn't, Lisa would have noticed. She called without fail every day. Melanie sat on the bed. He'd taken her bag and her phone. He'd even taken her shoes.
Smart man.
Those three-inch heels would have come in handy.

She reached for the bottled water on the table beside the bed. When she'd explored the room, she'd found water and other snack items, like you would in a hotel room. She twisted the cap and gulped down the liquid. The smell of roasted peanuts filled her nostrils as she pulled the packet open. She'd never eaten this many peanuts in her life. It wasn't a four-course meal, but she was so hungry. She'd waited as long as she could to open it. It was the last bag of peanuts.

As she drank and ate, she prayed.

This wasn't her first prayer, but one of several. The first time she'd prayed, her words had sounded so foreign in her ears. Praying was something she did when she was a little girl.
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Now she just prayed,
God save me. Save me, please.

Thrilled he had a chance to catch up with one of Melanie's teachers, Wes sat engaged as Janice Yarber chattered and moved around the classroom with the energy of a much younger person. “She was an excellent student. I knew she could sing, but, oh, I was so proud of her on that show. Melanie should have won.” The older woman picked up papers and placed books back on the shelf in the back of her classroom.

Wes smiled. He liked that Melanie's former English teacher had such fond memories of her former student and continued to keep up with her students after they left her classroom. Rick Jenkins, the cameraman on the shoot with him, was following Mrs. Yarber. They had arrived during her planning period to conduct the interview, and the teacher was wasting no time as she prepared for her next period of students. Finally, the silver-haired woman sat down and continued talking as she began organizing papers on her desk.

“The only thing that concerned me about Melanie was her home life.”

Wes asked, “Why the concern?”

She looked at Wes and then looked over at Rick behind them. “Oh my! Maybe I shouldn't have said that.”

“No. Hold on. Rick, let's stop rolling tape. Why don't you get some B-roll from around the school?”

“Sure, Wes!”

Wes turned to Mrs. Yarber. “We will continue off the record. Will that be okay with you?”

“Okay.” Mrs. Yarber sat very still, in stark relief to the whirlwind of activity she'd engaged in, as she watched Rick grab his bag and camera.

Rick called over his shoulder, “Wes, I will see you outside in a bit.”

“Thanks, Rick.” Wes turned his attention back to Mrs. Yarber. “Now, you mentioned you had concerns about Melanie's home life.”

She swallowed and fidgeted in her seat. “Well, neither of her parents ever came to support her. They missed teacher conferences all the time. One day I made a trip out to her home. Her mother was there taking care of some younger children. She seemed to be more interested in her other children and didn't seem to care that Melanie had been missing her classes.”

Wes asked, “Melanie was skipping classes?”

“Yes. Now, I understand the mother had her hands full. I believe all the other children were under the age of four. The mother . . . Well, I should stop referring to her as the mother. She was really Melanie's stepmother.” Mrs. Yarber shook her head. “She just kept saying, ‘Melanie can take care of herself.' At the time, Melanie was only fourteen years old. Children still need guidance at that age. Teenagers need adult guidance even more so because they are learning about themselves and witnessing so many new experiences.”

“Where was her father?”

“Now, that really disturbed me. I never met Melanie's father. I heard later that her dad was serving time in prison. Something about getting caught with drugs. That's terrible.”

He looked down at his notes. Serena had spoken to the stepmother; in fact, they had some clips of her talking to the media. There was no footage of Melanie's father, even with his daughter missing and showing up on the news each night. Larry Stowe had to have been released from prison in the last year, though. Melanie's father had found a way to see his daughter on
American Voices.
Wes wondered if Larry might have worked out something with his parole officer that allowed him to leave the state.

Wes planned to head out to Melanie's home after the interview. “Mrs. Yarber, I have one more question. Do you remember any of Melanie's friends or boyfriends?”

“In my class, Melanie was especially chummy with a girl named Lisa Sloan. I don't think she was involved with any boys when I had her, but I do remember the boy they talk about on the news.”

“Jay. Jay Strong.”

“Yes. He wasn't in any of my classes, but he was a young man who had quite a reputation with the staff. Jay was a least a few years ahead of Melanie. I think he eventually dropped out of school. He stayed in trouble all the time. It's a shame that she got caught up with him. Do you think he has something to do with her being missing?”

“I don't know. He's a person of interest right now with the police.” Wes stood and held out his hand. “Thank you, Ms. Yarber. I appreciate your time.”

“Not a problem. I do hope they find her. She was such a talented girl.”

Wes headed out into the high school hallway. It was in between classes, but a few students were still walking around, giggling and talking. He remembered his high school days. While he enjoyed some recognition as a reporter, in high school he was “church boy.” No matter her hours at the hospital, Wanda had made sure they were in church during the week and on Sunday. It didn't help that he liked the idea of dressing professionally when he went to school. This usually meant one his favorite vests and a bow tie. Good grades were expected of him, and he liked the challenge. A chick magnet, he was not.

He headed into the parking lot, toward the car, memories following him. Rick was standing at the back of the car, packing up the gear. He turned toward Wes. “Hey, did you get what you needed here?”

“Yes, I did. Do you know how far Melanie's family home is from here?” Rick was the driver and had been assigned to Serena for the previous interviews.

Rick answered, “About two miles. You want to head there next? Do you think they will want to do another interview?”

Rick had a point. Due to Melanie's fame from being on
American Voices,
there was national media hanging out all the time at the Stowes' house. “I'd like to try. I want to see if we can find out where the father is hiding. Don't you think it's odd that he hasn't shown his face at all?”

“Yeah! If it was my kid, I would be out there searching for her. You know it's crazy that she was snatched up just like that and no one saw a thing.”

Wes pondered out loud. “I know. She had to be heading toward her car. Somebody must have been watching her all night.”

When Melanie's friends finally came out of the club, they noticed her car was still in the parking lot, but there was no sign of Melanie. They didn't waste any time calling the police, which was a good thing. Did Melanie have some kind of stalker? With her being on a national television show, who knows what overzealous fan had fixated on her.

Wes often wondered what happened later to people who had the infamous fifteen minutes of fame from being on reality shows and in talent contests. Melanie was talented. Did offers come in for her even though she wasn't a winner? She had made it to being the fourth finalist. Really, if she had had more votes, Wes gathered, like others, she could have won the competition that season.

Both men finished loading the car. While Rick drove to the Stowes' home, Wes looked at his notes. Melanie had had her own apartment up until a month before she disappeared. Maybe for financial reasons, she'd moved back home. A home where, according to Mrs. Yarber, Melanie was at odds with or not really cared for by her stepmother. The more he read about Mrs. Gladys Stowe, the more he wanted to meet her for himself. After her husband had gone to prison, Gladys had raised his daughter until she graduated. Melanie had moved out right after her high school graduation. Why did she return? Had the relationship between the two women improved?

Wes could tell as they drew closer to the Stowes' home that there was a crowd of reporters staked out around the house. It had been almost a week since the twenty-one-year-old went missing. If Melanie had been an average woman of color, one without the national spotlight, the news story would have been reported locally, but not nationally, and certainly not almost a week later.

Rick asked, “What do you want to do?”

“Let's regroup. It might be better to focus on the boyfriend, Jay Strong.” Wes had a few contacts that used to work with Pops. They might be willing to share some details. In the case of a missing person, it was important to relay any clues or details to the public.

Wes pulled out his phone and clicked through a few e-mails. One message caught his attention. Mainly because it was a notification e-mail from Facebook. He had received some great tips from social media and always anticipated coming across something good. To his surprise, the message was from Angel Roberts. She wanted to meet with him tomorrow for lunch at Southern Soul Café. Well, this was good. At least he hoped it was. He was certainly looking forward to seeing her again.

Angel had spent the morning with her grandmother. Hard to believe it had been almost a week since Fredricka had her stroke. She still was having trouble talking, but Angel thanked the Lord for every sign of improvement. To see some of the spark back in Grams's eyes gave Angel hope.
She is going to be okay.

A bundle of nerves, Angel entered Southern Soul Café. She still couldn't believe she'd invited Wes to lunch. The Wes Cade. Showing up at the Cades' house on Sunday and now this . . . She'd had a surge of forwardness that she couldn't explain. She just hoped she didn't embarrass herself in front of the reporter.

Last night Angel had found herself back on his Facebook profile page, checking out his posts. As she'd scanned some of Wes's wall posts, she discovered he had been featured in a local magazine as one of the top ten bachelors in Charlotte. That might be why she saw that some women had posted comments and photos that were not very ladylike. She'd surfed away from the Web site in disgust at the way some of the women were throwing themselves at the man. Wes came off as very friendly and charming. She hoped he would remain that way.

She had purposely arrived early at the café. There was a line, as usual, for lunch. This place stayed busy throughout the lunch hour and started back up again for the dinner crowd. If one wanted good old-fashioned soul food and music from an era that ushered in soulful melodies like no other, this was the place to be. It occurred to Angel that she should have chosen another place, but really, Wes would be recognizable anywhere.

Angel walked up to the hostess. The woman was shorter than Angel and had a big, toothy smile. The young woman squeaked out, “Welcome. How many?”

“I'm here to see Eddie,” Angel answered.

“Okay. Wait just one moment.” The hostess leaned over and picked up a phone from behind the desk. “Eddie, someone is here to see you.”

Eddie had left her a voice mail yesterday. She hoped he didn't want to talk to her about his daughter's upcoming nuptials. Angel still hadn't sent the e-mail to Lenora. What she was waiting for, she didn't know.

Angel moved out of the way as other guests streamed into the restaurant for lunch. She'd seen the framed photos on the wall a number of times, but she admired them again. Southern Soul Café was owned and founded by Eddie, as a tribute to the band Southern Soul, which had started back in 1961. There were photos of the band from performances, some with well-known celebrities. She picked out her granddaddy in a few of the photos. Nick Roberts was a handsome man. Angel came from good stock indeed.

There was a photo of her mother on the wall, toward the back. Angel sat in that booth every time she ate at Southern Soul Café. Elisa had sung on and off with the band ever since she was a little girl. As a birthday present to her father, Elisa had sung with the band in 1991. By then Granddad had long since stopped playing due to arthritis, which robbed him of time with his beloved guitar. Elisa had disappeared a few months later, and so that birthday present was a bittersweet memory, one that, Angel saw, had often brought Nick to tears.

“Would you prefer a booth, Miss Roberts?”

Angel smiled. “Hey, Uncle Eddie.”

Eddie was without the cowboy boots and hat today. His white shirt was tucked into black denim jeans. He straightened his black tie and held out his arms. “Well, I'll be. I can't believe I have the great pleasure of seeing Miss Angel Roberts quite so soon. How's Fredericka doing?”

“Grams still has a long way to go, but she is much better than she was last week.”

“Good to hear!”

“Thanks for coming out in the dining room to see me. I wanted to make sure I talked to you.”

“Well, I'm glad to know I still can be a part of your life. Plus, I love to mingle with the customers, make sure they are enjoying the food. Saves someone in the kitchen from getting yelled at by me. Come on back. I will show you to your table.”

Angel laughed. She knew it was strange that she felt so at ease with a man she had always affectionately called uncle, but she couldn't bear to talk to his daughter. Maybe she would finally get past the betrayal. As she followed Eddie toward the back of the restaurant, she hoped trying to rekindle a broken friendship wasn't what had motivated Eddie to call her last night. She'd hate to disappoint him with her true feelings, which she felt ashamed of.

It took them a while to reach the booth as Eddie stopped and talked to patrons along the way. Angel realized how hungry she was when she peeked at the plates. Southern Soul Café was known for its fried chicken and macaroni and cheese dish. She hadn't eaten a decent meal since her grandmother went into the hospital. She and Grams cooked together. Finally, without having to tell him, Eddie led her straight to her favorite booth.

As she drew closer, Angel eyed the photo on the wall. Elisa was about three months pregnant, barely showing in the green dress. Something about knowing she was in her mother's womb in the photo made Angel feel close to her mother, who had been invisible to her for so many years. She should ask Eddie for the photo.

“Lots of memories in here, huh? You look just like her. Sure do miss that voice,” Eddie commented. He slid into the booth, admiring the photo. Then he turned to her and asked, “You know, I may have asked you this before, but do you have her pipes?”

Eddie's memory must have been getting bad. He'd asked her all her life if she could sing like her mother. Angel preferred not to sing in front of people. Even her granddad couldn't get her to sing publicly. She would do anything for him but sing. “Singing was my mother's dream. Not mine.”

“Oh, yeah. You are into the tech stuff. Probably why you are so good at video. Speaking of video, remember I had a project for you?”

“Granddaddy! Granddaddy!”

Angel observed as a young boy came running toward them, almost colliding with a server holding a tray. Like a little athlete, the boy leaped into the booth and into Eddie's arms.

Eddie laughed. “Boy, where did you come from? You can't just be running in my restaurant like that. What's wrong with you?” The whole time he scolded, Eddie tickled the little boy. The child turned and grinned at Angel.

She sucked in her breath. He was the mirror image of Kenneth, with dimples just like his dad. He was a little cutie. Swept up in the bundle of cuteness, Angel turned to see her former best friend approaching the table. Angel tensed and leaned back. This was a mistake!

Today was an unusually warm April day, but Denise looked ready to head to the beach. She was dressed in a flowing skirt and a tank top. To her surprise, Angel noticed Denise wasn't sporting her usual long tresses, but instead had a short Afro.

Denise walked up to the table and placed her hands on her hips. She was still slim and didn't look like she'd carried a child at all. “Kenny, I told you not to run.”

Eddie said, “He's fine. It's good for somebody to be glad to see me. How come he's not in day care, anyway?”

Denise answered, “Well, I wasn't planning to come in today. I decided to keep him home.” She turned toward Angel. The two women locked stares until Denise said, “Hello, Angel. It's been a long time.”

Angel looked away. “Yes, it has been. You look different.” Angel wondered what Kenneth thought of Denise's look. She remembered that Kenneth had always put down her tendency to dress like a tomboy. Angel liked to keep her curly hair in a ponytail and loved her jeans and Converse. She knew she looked like a college student, but she had her own style.

Denise reached up and ran her hand across her short hair. “I'm trying out a new look.”

Angel wasn't sure she wanted to continue the small talk. She smiled. “It suits you.” She actually meant that. Denise had model looks. The gold hoops against her mocha skin were perfect. She looked almost queenly.

Angel turned her attention back to little Kenny. He was smiling at her. A few years ago, when she had heard about his birth, she didn't think she would ever want to see him, but here he was in the flesh.
So cute
. She smiled back at him. He was a child. How he came into the world was certainly no choice of his.

“Kenny, come on back to the office with me. I have work to do.”

“No!” Kenny yelled.

Denise glared at her father. “Dad. You could
try
to help me.”

Angel watched the exchange. Denise had always butted heads with her dad. Like most musicians, Eddie had been on the road most of the time and had been more of an absentee father.

Eddie responded by holding little Kenny up to his face. “Little man, you need to go with your momma. Me and you will play together later.”

The little boy said, “Okay.”

Denise reached down and grabbed Kenny by the hand and pulled him away from Eddie. “Come on.” Kenny kept looking back as his mother pulled him toward the office area of the restaurant.

“That is a handful, you hear.” Eddie shook his head. “Hold off having one of those as long as you can.”

Angel hadn't had a boyfriend for so long, motherhood was far from her mind. For some reason, she felt a bit sorry for Denise. When they used to talk about getting married and having families, Denise had always said she wasn't sure if she wanted kids. Angel said to Eddie, “I didn't know Denise worked at the restaurant.”

Eddie explained, “I talked her into coming to work for me a few months ago. I know you girls don't talk much, but she had been out of work for a while. Both her and Kenneth had been struggling. I told her to come take care of my paperwork since she's always been good at organizing. She finally did it. When bills need to be paid, sometimes you can't be picky about a paycheck.”

She had really been out of the loop. There was a time when she and Denise confided everything to each other. But that was where Angel went wrong. She had complained way too much about Kenneth to Denise. How he would go hang out with the guys and not want to do anything with her. Not until it was too late did she realize Kenneth had been hanging out with Denise during those times she was looking for him.

Wes would be here soon, so she needed to find out what Eddie needed from her. “Eddie, what type of job did you have in mind?”

“Oh yeah, I was talking to this young cat the other day. He was telling me how that youngster, the Canadian boy, Justin B . . . How you say his name?”

“Justin Bieber?”

“He was discovered on the Internet. I'm not on the Internet that much, but I was blown away.”

“These days if you have talent, there are a lot of opportunities to get discovered. I'm sure you heard of the
American Voices
show.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh yeah! That young girl that's missing, she was on that show. That's a shame. You know, back in the day it was a lot more hard work to get a record deal.”

Angel prodded him, saying, “So what are you interested in me helping you film?”

Eddie pointed to an area in the restaurant that was covered with curtains now but was the staging area at night for musicians and occasionally comedians. “I have young people sing on the stage all the time. I want to give some of these young people an opportunity.”

“You want to put them on YouTube?”

“Yeah, I'd like to start a talent show. A Southern Soul talent show. Let people vote on who they think is the best soul singer.”

“That's sounds like a cool idea, Eddie. But these days people will be looking for something.”

“Not a problem. I have a few contacts in the music business still. Maybe we can work out something for the winner. So what you say? Can you help me get these performances online? I thought it would be great attention for the restaurant. Who knows? I may get a reality show.”

Angel laughed. She wasn't so sure about the reality show rage. Although she could picture the drama Denise and Eddie could generate to bring in ratings. “Okay. You tell me when, and I will be here.”

“Great! I will get a date and get back with you. So what you having to eat?”

“I will just have some water for now.”

“Water?” Eddie said incredulously. “Girl, you know you can have any plate on the house.”

She waved her hand. “You don't have to do that.” Angel didn't wear a watch, so she pulled her phone from her bag. Wes was due any moment. “I'm waiting on someone, and I think I should order when he gets here.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “He?” Then he grinned. “So who is he? You are being awfully secretive.”

She shook her head. “You will see soon enough. No secret.”

“All right. Well, I will take care of you before he arrives so he won't have a skeleton waiting on him.”

She rolled her eyes.
Really?
She'd gained weight over the past few years. After Eddie walked away, Angel turned back to the wall and looked at the photo of her mother. It was like Elisa was looking right at her, her mouth open, belting out a song. She looked so happy. How come in the remaining memories Angel had of her mother, she seemed sad?
What happened, Mom?
she thought.

Eddie came back to the table with a glass of water and a basket. “There you go, young lady.” There were packets of butter peeking out from under the red cloth. “Enjoy!”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Angel pulled the cloth back to find piping hot corn bread muffins. She grabbed a muffin and sliced it open with her butter knife. Then she rubbed a dab of butter across the corn bread. As she placed the warm, moist corn bread in her mouth, memories of long ago wrapped around her mind. A time when her mother was happy. Her entire family was whole, laughing and enjoying good food and each other.