Memory
Makers
by
Debbie De Louise
Genre:
Mystery
Twenty-five
years ago, Lauren Phelps and her sister Patty were kidnapped from
their backyard on Long Island. Lauren escaped her captor, but Patty
was killed.
Ever
since, Lauren has suffered from nightmares of the “Shadow Man.”
Trying to recall his face and avenge her sister’s murder, Lauren,
now a kidnapping investigator, enrolls in a clinical trial for a new
memory drug.
At
the offices of Memory Makers in California, she receives the
injections of the Memory Makers' serum, and begins to experience
flashbacks of repressed memories. Along with the flashbacks, she
receives threats from an anonymous source that point back to her
childhood trauma.
Soon,
Lauren becomes involved with a fellow trial participant who seeks to
recall his own traumatic past. But can Lauren discover the
identity of the “Shadow Man” before history repeats itself?
I was in the sandbox with Patty. Our father came out of the house to tell us he was waiting for an important call. “You girls can stay here and play.” He spoke to Patty, “Make sure your sister stays with you. I left the door open in case you want to go in and watch TV.”
“Who’s calling you, Daddy?” Patty asked, her blue eyes wide.
“No one you know, Baby Doll. I’m taking the call upstairs. I won’t be able to see you from there, but I’ll be as quick as possible.” And then he was off, striding with his long legs back to the house.
The dream changed scenes abruptly. Patty and I were tied up. I was crying, pushing at the ropes that bound me.
“Be quiet, Laurie. He’ll hear you.”
Then he appeared, a black shadow across the floor. I stopped crying. I was frozen. Large, hairy-backed hands reached out and untied Patty. “You first,” he said in a deep, commanding voice.
Excerpt 2
Five people of various ages were gathered around a long table. I was surprised to see that a few of them weren’t old.
Dr. Murray followed me into the room. “Good morning, folks,” he greeted everyone. “I have a new member with us. Her name is Lauren. She’s just had her first injection. Please welcome her and introduce yourselves. We’ll start with Brian.” He nodded toward the dark-haired mustached man who sat by the empty sixth chair that I supposed I was meant to occupy.
“Please have a seat, Lauren. I don’t mind standing.”
I hesitated, feeling all the eyes in the room on me.
“Go ahead. They don’t bite.” He laughed at his weak attempt at humor.
I sat next to Brian. I noticed he had hazel eyes and a pleasant smile. I judged him to be in his early thirties.
“Hi, Lauren. As Dr. Murray said, my name is Brian. I’ve been here for two weeks and also have had one injection so far. The reason I’m participating is because they needed a test subject who had no history of Alzheimer’s or any type of dementia in his family.”
That was interesting. “Nice to meet you, Brian,” I said, wondering if I was supposed to explain my reason for being part of the Memory Maker’s trial.
Dr. Murray intervened before I could add anything. “Thanks, Brian. Let’s go around the table. Maureen, you’re next.”
I still felt uncomfortable in this room of strangers, but the petite black woman with the short, straight hair styled in a pageboy also had a welcoming smile. “Hello, Lauren. I hope we can be friends. I’m probably around your mother’s age. I’m 55. I asked to be part of this study because I’m aware of the statistics of blacks being twice as likely as whites to get Alzheimer’s and that women are likelier by two-thirds to come down with the disease than men. That puts me in a high-risk category. Although I’m not that old, my mother had early-onset Alzheimer’s at my age, and my dad passed away from the disease last year.”
“I’m sorry.”
Dr. Murray spoke again. “Thank you for sharing that, Maureen. Let’s move on to Virginia.”
Virginia, sitting next to Maureen, was more like a candidate I expected in the program. She appeared to be in her early seventies with a full head of white hair and blue eyes that appeared vacant.
“Virginia, this is Lauren. Can you tell her a little about yourself?” he said in a voice that sounded like he was talking to a child. It seemed strange coming out of a man who always spoke so professionally.
“Is she in my class?” Virginia asked looking confused.
“She’s in the trial,” Dr. Murray said. Glancing at me, he added in a low voice, “Virginia thinks she’s in school. Her family admitted her. She was in a nursing home previously.”
“Hello, Virginia. It’s nice to meet you.”
The vacant eyes met mine. “Who’s Virginia? Are you Virginia?”
Dr. Murray shook his head. “Let’s move on to Bill.” He looked toward the man who appeared to be about the same age as Virginia. He was bald with glasses riding his nose.
“Hello, Lauren. I’m Bill. I was recently diagnosed with dementia. So far, I have pretty good recall, but I’m starting to forget little things, a few short-term memories. I also just had my first injection. I haven’t noticed any effects yet.”
“You know this treatment takes time,” the doctor assured him. “How about you, Jake? Can you tell Lauren something about yourself?”
The man next to Bill was younger, mid-fifties, around Maureen’s age. He had thinning gray hair and a nose that looked as if it had been broken in his youth. “Lauren,” he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I wish you luck in the program. I’m here because I used to be a drug addict. They effected my memory. I have problems remembering my past. Long-term recall, they term it.”
“Drugs can work that way,” Dr. Murray explained. “Normal memory loss is usually short term. That’s the type we typically see in dementia and Alzheimer’s patients. It can vary in those whose memory is affected by drug use. Jake has been clean for ten years, but the effects of the narcotics have taken a toll on him.”
I nodded. “Thanks for sharing, Jake. I wish you luck, too.”
“Well, then,” Dr. Murray said pasting that phony smile on his face that was intended to make me
feel at ease, “Let’s go to the dining room and begin the morning activities.
Excerpt 3
Lauren, We may have found a lead on Corey. An anonymous woman called his parents’ house and said they saw a baby boy meeting his description with a tall, bearded man at a 7 Eleven in Hicksville. We spoke to the manager there and showed him Corey’s photo. He said he wasn’t sure but that it may have been him. We also asked him to meet with Ellen to draw up a sketch of the man accompanying the baby. I’ll keep you posted on our progress. Hope all is well with you.”
I closed the email and took a deep breath. Ellen was the profiler for the department. She was an excellent artist who could draw down to the smallest detail what witnesses described. She’d helped Brian and I find several missing kids, the lucky ones that were found alive. Mostly they were victims of parental abduction where a non-custodial parent, often a father, took the law into his own hands by snatching his child. I knew this wasn’t the case with Corey because, when we’d first gotten it, both parents were living together and equally disturbed by their baby’s disappearance.
I didn’t bother recording the email in my night journal. No one needed to know about my private business. Laying down in bed after my night preparations, I kept thinking of Corey. My mind visualized the one-year-old, the sandy tufts of hair, blue twinkling eyes. I hoped the lead proved fruitful and only wished I was still there on the case.
After a long time of restlessly trying to sleep, wondering if I’d have another dream of the Shadow Man or if my first injection would finally start to work and I would have a flashback, I began to doze. I was awoken suddenly from my light, dreamless slumber by the ring of my cell phone that I’d placed at the side of my bed. Thinking it was Rick with more news, I grabbed for it.
A rough voice that could’ve been male or female answered my “hello.”
“I remember you,” the gravelly voice said. “You and Patty.” Then it clicked off.
Excerpt 4
When I returned to my apartment that night, I remembered that I had my cell phone back and that Brian said that Rick had left a message about Corey. I played the voicemail.
“Hi, Lauren. You don’t have to call me back. I just wanted to update you on our lead. I’m afraid it didn’t pan out. There’s still no sign of the boy, and the parents haven’t received a ransom request. It’s not looking good. Sorry.”
I lay down on my bed. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes. If I was there, maybe I’d have located an additional clue or had some instinct that proved helpful. But being so far away, I was helpless. Then I remembered my mother. I’d promised to call her. Drying my eyes with a tissue from a box near my bed, I dialed her number.
“Lauren, you remembered,” she said after she heard my voice.
“Yes. I promised, Mom. How are you?” I expected her reply to be the same negative response that she was terrible until I came home. Instead she said, “I’m managing. Your father called last night. He said he wants to talk to me about a few things. I don’t know what to do. I haven’t spoken to him in years, and I’m not sure I want to now.”
“Maybe you should. It’s not healthy to keep a grudge.”
“A grudge? Lauren, it’s because of him that I lost my little girl.” Her voice broke. “I know you don’t remember that day, but I can never forget it. They found her body in the woods after they found you. Oh, dear God, what was Robert thinking leaving you two girls outside alone?”
“Mom, don’t you think Dad has paid long enough?” I hadn’t spoken with my father in several years either, but I knew he was in therapy after attempting to commit suicide several times.
“No, Lauren. He hasn’t paid quite enough, but God will dole out his judgment as it will for the person who killed Patty.”
While my father had turned himself inward from guilt after my sister’s murder, my mother had turned herself outward toward religion. She attended church daily and had made her home a shrine to her dead daughter with photos and all her toys and clothes that she still kept.
“Does Dad know I’m in California?” I asked changing the subject. “Does he know what I’m doing?”
Mother sighed. “Yes, I told him, but he didn’t seem to care. Why would he? He’s only concerned with himself. God knows I should be the one cutting my wrists, but I have you to live for. I’ve tried to protect you, and I wish I still can.”
Mom didn’t realize that she’d been as guilty as Dad over Patty’s death. After all, she’d left us with him while she’d gone shopping that day.
“I have to go, Mom,” I said trying to avoid the conversation about my father. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“There’s one more thing, Lauren.” Her voice lowered as if she was about to tell me something serious. “I can’t find your cat, Harry. I was very careful when I came home from shopping today, but he was so fast. I’m afraid he got out.”
“Oh, no.” I had grown very fond of the black shorthair kitten I’d nicknamed “Handsome Harry.” I knew there were lots of dangers to cats outside from cars that could run them over to people who could hurt them. What made it worse was that Harry was only a few months old and had never been outside since I adopted him from the shelter. “Have you looked around the neighborhood?”
“Yes. I went around calling him, but I’m not sure he responds to his name. Hermione knows her brother’s missing. She’s been crying for him.”
“Keep looking. Check near my apartment. He may have headed there.” My apartment was only a few blocks away. My mother had a key and picked up my mail there twice a week.
“I’ll go after I hang up with you. I have to get the mail, anyway.”
“Let me know if you find him.”
“I hope I do. Call me tomorrow.”
“I will, Mom.” Feeling frustrated that I was so far away, I said goodbye and hung up.
By Debbie De Louise
My new mystery release, Memory Makers, revolves around two sisters – Lauren and Patty Phelps. The two girls were very young when they were kidnapped from their backyards. Lauren, the younger sister, was only 3; Patty was 5 that summer day a man abducted them from the sandbox in which they were playing. Lauren escaped her captors, but Patty was later found dead. For years, Lauren had nightmares of the “shadow man.” At 28, and a kidnap investigator, she learns of a clinical trial of a new memory drugs and volunteers for it in the hope or recalling the face of the man who murdered her sister.
As Lauren begins to recall pieces of her past, she faces facts about her relationship with Patty and her parents that she hadn’t consciously acknowledged. Patty was both her mother and father’s favorites. Her father referred to his eldest daughter as “Baby Doll,” while he called Lauren “Little Squeaker.” When they spent time with their parents, Patty was always the one who got to choose the game to play, the book to read, or the place to go. Twenty-five years after Patty’s death, Lauren, suffering from survivor’s guilt at her sister’s death, also still feels the jealousy from her childhood that she needs to come to terms with. This guilt motivates her further to avenge Patty’s murder.
Like Lauren, I also have an older sister. However, we are 15 years apart, not two. That makes a big difference. I was the baby of the family with two older brothers, as well. Do any of you have siblings with whom you have a love/hate relationship or a child of your own who you might favor over another? I only have a daughter, but I know that it must be difficult for parents of multiple children to show equal affection to each one. That doesn’t mean you love either child any less, but it may appear that way to the child who seeks more attention and affection from a parent.
Debbie
De Louise is an award-winning author and a reference librarian at a
public library on Long Island. She is a member of International
Thriller Writers, Sisters-in-Crime, and the Cat Writer’s
Association. She has a BA in English and an MLS in Library Science
from Long Island University. Her seven published novels include the 4
books of her Cobble Cove cozy mystery series: A Stone's Throw,
Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Written in Stone, and Love on the
Rocks, her paranormal romance, Cloudy Rainbow, her mystery thriller
Reason to Die, and her latest psychological mystery, Sea Scope. She
also published a romantic comedy novella featuring a jewel heist
caper, When Jack Trumps Ac. Debbie has also written articles and
short stories for several anthologies of various genres. She is
currently querying agents to represent the first book of a new cozy
mystery series. She lives on Long Island with her husband, daughter,
and three cats.
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