A Distant Memory

by Traci DePree

  “When I came into the room, she snapped out of it, but her face was red,” Brian supplied. “She was embarrassed that I caught her.”

  “Did she offer any kind of explanation?” Kate asked.

  Brian shook his head.

  Something had been going on with Sonja, Kate thought. Then she wondered if this event from the past was somehow connected to Brad and his reason for not wanting to look into the man in purple.

  “When did your parents meet?” she asked, wondering if this liar from the past might be someone Brad would know, perhaps the man in purple.

  “They met in college,” Becky said. “Judy set them up on a blind date.” She smiled.

  Kate enjoyed seeing Becky look happy for once. “Did your dad do theater and that kind of thing too?”

  Both teens laughed. “You obviously don’t know Dad that well,” Brian said. “No way, nohow would he set foot on a stage.”

  Kate paused as the next question formed in her mind. “How had your mom been acting lately?”

  “She’d been crying a lot since the diagnosis, I think, more than before...” Becky’s words fell away. “I’d come home from school, and her face would be all blotchy, and her eyes would be red.”

  “Did anything happen right before she disappeared?” Kate said. “Anything that might have caused her to go to the creek that day?”

  Brian’s face darkened. He looked first to his sister, then to Kate. Kate could see that there was something, but he was hesitant to tell it. She decided not to push but waited patiently until he was ready to talk.

  “I, uh...,” he finally began, “I snuck out of the house the night before Mom disappeared. She was waiting up for me when I got back.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She was so angry. I’d never seen her like that before.” He lifted doleful eyes. “I can’t help but think that had something to do with why she went to the creek.” He rubbed his upper arms and rested his forearms on the table.

  “You don’t know that that was why she left for sure, though,” Kate said.

  “No. But it was selfish of me,” Brian admitted with a glance at his father, who was still talking to Paul. “I wasn’t happy about moving here, especially during my senior year.” He shrugged. “I guess I was taking my anger out on my folks by doing stupid things.”

  His younger sister placed a comforting hand on his back.

  Brian sighed. “It’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. Your mother loved you, Brian,” Kate said.

  “That’s what adults say when they don’t have a decent answer.”

  “There was something else,” Becky said in a small voice.

  Silence descended as Kate and Brian turned to see what she had to say. Kate noticed Brad making his way to them across the lawn.

  “That morning,” Becky said, “before school. Dad and Mom were arguing. They’d been fighting a lot lately—” She stopped talking as her father drew near.

  “I’ve been meaning to get over here to check on you two,” Brad said, moving behind his son and squeezing his shoulders. “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah, Dad,” Brian said. “We’re fine.”

  But even Kate could tell that the tension between them was palpable.

  MOURNERS DRIFTED AWAY like dandelion fluff on a breeze until only a few stragglers remained. Paul was talking with the Andersons across the yard. Becky and Brian had gone into the house, coaxed by Judy to play a game. When Brad sank into the seat across from Kate under the tent, he looked ready to crash.

  “Long day,” he said.

  “This has been hard on you.”

  “More than you know,” he said. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes. “I miss Pip. That’s the hardest part, missing her.”

  He lifted the glass he held in his hands, empty except for a few ice cubes. He fidgeted with the sweating surface while Kate waited for him to go on.

  Finally he confessed, “I have so many regrets...what-ifs.” He paused, lifting his gaze to Kate’s.

  “What kind of regrets?” she asked, studying him.

  He shook his head, and his eyes clouded. “I should’ve been here. If I’d just stayed home that day instead of going to those job interviews...”

  “You can’t beat yourself up,” Kate said.

  “But I do.” There was a long silence. The faint breeze whispered between them.

  Finally, mindful to ask the question delicately, Kate said, “Why did she go to the woods? Do you have a theory?”

  Brad looked distressed. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve been wondering ever since she disappeared. Was it stress? All of this didn’t exactly come at the best time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, with losing my job and all that.” He shrugged. “It seems like nothing now, not compared to losing her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Livvy was at Kate’s front door bright and early Saturday morning. She and Kate had agreed to do a little Internet research over breakfast.

  “Come on in.” Kate motioned for Livvy to follow her to the kitchen, where the scents of freshly baked scones and coffee intermingled in a heavenly combination. Her laptop was already booted up with the Google search page, and the table was set for two with a lace tablecloth and china.

  “Where’s Paul?” Livvy asked, glancing around.

  “Out for a run.”

  They took their seats, with Kate in front of the computer and Livvy next to her. Kate offered a brief prayer, then lifted a flaky scone onto Livvy’s plate and another onto her own. Steam rose from the pastries as Kate added whipped cream cheese and chives to hers and Livvy poured them each a cup of coffee.

  When they were finally settled with their meal, Kate turned to the laptop.

  “I did a little research before”—she handed Livvy the sheet of Alzheimer’s symptoms she’d printed—“but I’m not seeing anything of real significance. At least nothing that might help lead us to Sonja.”

  Livvy bent her head to study the list. “This is for Alzheimer’s. Did you look up early-onset Alzheimer’s?”

  Kate typed the phrase into the search engine and waited while the slow dial-up looked for links. When the page flashed on the screen, Kate clicked on the top link. The site held the basic list of symptoms she’d already discovered. She clicked on the next link while Livvy looked on.

  Kate was surprised by what the article said. “What is it?” Livvy said, leaning in as if to read with her.

  Kate read out loud, “There is no definitive test for Alzheimer’s disease. Doctors can only know for certain that a patient has the disease in an autopsy.”

  Kate looked up at Livvy. “An autopsy?” she said before returning to the article. “Instead, a combination of tests are used to determine if someone is a likely victim. It is estimated that a general internist can diagnose within a 90 percent degree of accuracy if someone has the disease. Many doctors will consult with neurologists and psychologists, as well as psychiatrists, to come to a conclusion.

  “Did Sonja go through all of these tests?” Kate wondered out loud.

  “I would assume so,” Livvy said.

  Kate returned to reading out loud in spots of interest. “A mere 10 percent of Alzheimer’s patients are younger than sixty-five years old, and a large portion of those have a direct family member with the illness.”

  Kate’s mind flicked to Brian’s comment that his mother hadn’t been so far gone as to keep her from coming home. The possibility that had begun as a seed took root. Did Sonja have Alzheimer’s at all? If not, why would Brad have told the authorities that she had it? Did he believe her to be afflicted with the disease, or was something else at stake, something Kate hadn’t even considered? Her gaze met Livvy’s.

  “What’s going through that head?” Livvy asked.

  Kate’s mind was racing. “Do you think it’s possible that Sonja didn’t have Alzheimer’s at all?”

  Livvy seemed startled by the thought, then she paused. “But...,” she began.

&nb
sp; “Brian said his mother wasn’t that far gone,” Kate reminded Livvy. “You knew her. Was she so confused that she wouldn’t know how to get home?”

  Livvy thought about that for a long moment. “She didn’t seem that confused...But why would Brad lie about the diagnosis?”

  Kate shrugged, then offered, “Maybe to make her disappearance less suspicious? So the police wouldn’t look into it...”

  Livvy looked as startled by the suggestion as Kate felt. Yet Kate couldn’t deny that there was a possibility. Perhaps if she could talk to Sonja’s doctor about her Alzheimer’s, she would better understand what his assessment was and what could have happened to her.

  Glancing at her friend, she dialed Brad’s number.

  “This is Brad,” he answered. The discouragement in his tone traveled across the phone line.

  If he was acting, he was awfully good at it.

  “Good morning,” Kate said and identified herself. Then she paused as she considered how to phrase her request. “I’m wondering if it would be okay for me to talk to Sonja’s doctor about her condition, see if he can offer any ideas on her state of mind before she went missing.”

  “Why?” Brad said. “I really think it’s best to let it go. I don’t want to upset the kids.”

  “I understand,” Kate said. Then she added. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

  “I know that. I just...” He sighed, and Kate decided not to pressure him.

  After saying farewell, Kate dialed Betty Anderson. Kate didn’t want to disrespect Brad, but she knew that if he was somehow complicit in Sonja’s disappearance, as she was beginning to think, he wasn’t likely to be helpful.

  Betty answered after several rings. “Betty’s Beauty Parlor.” The sound of ladies’ chatter served as background noise.

  “Betty, it’s Kate. Do you happen to recall if Sonja mentioned what clinic she went to? Maybe the name of her doctor?”

  “Well, sure, honey,” Betty said. “Now, Ronda, don’t let that color sit on her head too long,” she instructed one of her stylists before returning to the line. “She went to the clinic in Pine Ridge, that cute Dr. Gove.”

  SUNDAY PASSED UNEVENTFULLY, and on Monday morning, Kate headed to the clinic as soon as it opened.

  “Is Dr. Gove in?” Kate asked after she went inside. The waiting room was empty. A lone television droned news from the corner.

  “He’s having breakfast, I think,” the receptionist said. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I was just hoping to talk to him for a few minutes.”

  The curly-headed woman called her phone and talked in a low tone. Then she motioned for Kate to follow her to a back room, where the doctor was huddled over a microwaveable breakfast burrito and a carton of chocolate milk. He lifted his bushy brows and glanced at Kate as a nurse laid a stack of paperwork on his desk, then waddled away. Kate wondered distantly why Betty thought the man was cute.

  Kate shook hands with the elderly physician, and he motioned to a metal chair in the corner of his cluttered, tiny office.

  “I’m wondering if I can ask you a few questions about Sonja Weaver’s Alzheimer’s disease,” she began

  Dr. Gove took a bite of his burrito and wiped the corners of his droopy mouth with a paper napkin. “Sonja Weaver?” he said.

  “She’s a patient of yours,” Kate reminded him. “She disappeared over a week ago, and...” Kate’s words trailed off as the doctor’s brow furrowed.

  “She’s missing?” he said.

  Kate nodded. “She went for a walk in the woods and never came home.”

  The doctor sat back in his chair. “Do they know what happened to her?”

  Kate shook her head. “The police have given up their search. The family held a memorial service on Friday. I was hoping you could give me some insight into how she was acting, if there were any particular triggers in her case that you noticed.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t discuss a patient’s case. It’s privileged information,” Dr. Gove said, shaking his head.

  “Even though she’s believed dead?” Kate persisted.

  “I’m afraid not. Sonja never signed a HIPAA giving anyone permission—”

  “I don’t need to talk specifically about Sonja.” Kate amended her original plan. “If you can just answer some questions about early-onset Alzheimer’s?”

  The doctor pursed his lips. “I suppose.”

  “How is early-onset Alzheimer’s different from regular Alzheimer’s?”

  “It’s very rare,” the doctor said. “Only 5 to 10 percent of Alzheimer’s patients have the early-onset variety. It mostly means the patient is younger than sixty-five. Listen”—he pushed to standing—“I need to get back to patients, and I really shouldn’t say any more. Obviously you’re wanting to know specifics about Sonja, and my hands are tied in that regard.”

  Kate rose along with him and thanked him for his time, even as discouragement settled on her shoulders.

  Dr. Gove turned to make his way down the hallway. Kate picked up her handbag when the nurse who’d dropped off the paperwork came by. She met Kate’s eye.

  “You were talking about Sonja Weaver?” the nurse asked.

  Kate nodded.

  “I heard about her,” she said. “It’s so sad that she’s missing.” Then her voice lowered to a whisper. “She, uh, came in about several weeks ago. Well, I shouldn’t be saying anything, but this isn’t about her case or condition. But you might want to know that she did have a friend with her.”

  “A friend?” Kate asked as the tumblers in her brain started to click. “A man or a woman?”

  “A woman. She mentioned something about going to coffee with Sonja that day after the appointment.”

  Kate stared at her for a moment before the unasked question found its answer: Judy!

  KATE HEADED TO THE FLORAL SHOP in Copper Mill where Judy worked. Hamilton Road Florist was next to John Sharpe’s insurance agency. A quaint shop, it smelled of gardens, fresh and slightly sweet with a tang of earthiness. A long refrigerator filled with fresh blooms lined one wall of the small store, and the rest of the retail space was a combination of silk flowers and centerpieces, as well as potted plants and a Mylar balloon selection.

  Judy was in the back. Kate could see her through the pass-through window behind the counter. Kate rang the bell on the counter, and the blonde lifted her head, smiling when her eyes met Kate’s.

  “Be right there,” she said as she tied a yellow ribbon onto the base of a bouquet and made several twists and turns to create a perfect bow. Finally she came out to Kate, wiping her hands on the navy polyester apron she wore.

  “Kate,” she said, seeming surprised to see her at the shop. “What are you doing here? Need a bouquet?”

  “No. But I do want to talk to you about something if you have a few minutes,” Kate said.

  “Sure,” Judy said. “Come on back.”

  She led Kate to the back room where she made bouquets and floral arrangements. Racks lined the wall, containing shelf after shelf of vases and flower forms, stuffed animals, and mugs that read everything from “Happy Birthday” to “Congratulations on Your Retirement.” A Formica table took up a large portion of the middle of the room, with rolls of green tape and ribbon on dispensers.

  Judy sat on a tall stool and motioned to another for Kate. “Would you like something to drink?” Judy asked, gesturing toward a clear pitcher of what looked like iced tea on a side counter.

  “Sure. Thank you,” Kate said.

  Judy got up to pour a cup of the brew and added a slice of lemon from a bowl alongside the pitcher.

  Once they were settled, and Kate took a sip of the tea, Judy asked, “So what was it you were wanting to talk about?” She tilted her pretty face and met Kate’s smile with one of her own.

  “You’ve been a good friend to the Weavers,” Kate began.

  Judy shrugged. “Well, of course. I love them all.”

  “They’re lucky to have a friend like you.”<
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  Judy took a sip of her tea. “Is that why you came?”

  “No,” Kate confessed. “I’ve been thinking about Sonja and how tragic this situation is.”

  Judy’s eyes clouded almost instantly. “It’s awful.”

  “You know that Becky still doesn’t believe her mother is dead?”

  Judy nodded. “She told me. I can’t blame the kid. I’d feel the same if I were her. And Brian...” She let her words trail off.

  “He sounded unsure about all of this,” Kate offered.

  “Mmm,” Judy murmured in agreement. “He believes she would have been able to find a way home,” she confirmed what the boy had said to Kate.

  “Did you think that too?” Kate asked.

  Judy shifted on her stool, but she didn’t say anything. She lifted her own insulated mug for another sip. “Sonja was so glad to have found your church,” Judy finally said. “She felt like she belonged there.” Then pausing, she added, “She was my best friend in the world. You know that, right?”

  Kate nodded as Judy glanced to the front of the store that was still devoid of customers. Kate waited for her to continue.

  “I’ve had my doubts these past few days,” Judy admitted vaguely.

  Kate leaned forward slightly. “Meaning?”

  Finally Judy lowered the barrier, just a fraction. “Mean-ing that what I believed to be true, I’m not so sure about anymore.” She paused.

  Judy sighed and said, “I drove her to an appointment several weeks before she disappeared. She was very upset afterward.”

  “Why?” Kate asked.

  Judy took a deep breath before continuing. “Doctor Gove told her she didn’t have Alzheimer’s.”

  Kate felt a moment of triumph. Judy confirmed what Kate had suspected, opening up a plethora of new questions. She pulled out the first question that came to her. “So Brad’s been lying about her condition to the authorities?”

  Judy shook her head. “No! Sonja told Brad she had the disease because she honestly felt she had it, and I believed her. The doctor was wrong. He dismissed Alzheimer’s out of hand because of her age, but he never asked the right questions. For example, most early-onset patients have a relative with the disease. Sonja’s mother had it too.”