Forget to Remember (5 page)

Rigo was still looking for sympathy. “Not
only do I have to know what Web sites to check, I also have to
become an expert on comparing facial characteristics.”

Frances didn’t appear to have any pity for
him. “Do your best. We don’t have a lot to go on, so we’ve got to
look at every possibility.” She turned to Carol. “What I’ll do is
to put all the information we have about you on the Internet. What
we’re hoping is that somebody is looking for you and will find your
profile. That’s our best bet, but it may take some time. We can’t
canvass the world, so we hope that the world will come to us, or at
least the people who know you. You have to have patience. That’s
one thing I’ve learned in this business.”

Carol nodded. “I know. It’s hard. I suspect
I’m not the patient type. I can help. I know how to surf the
Internet. I’ll also check Google Earth for places I might have
been. We’ve done some of that already.”

“Anything like that can be useful. I’ll work
on getting somebody interested in writing an article about you that
people who know you might read. However, that will be hard to do
until we have more information about you. You’re not a celebrity,
and we don’t know what part of the country to concentrate on. It
would be nice if we could get you on Oprah or a news show.
Unfortunately, that puts you in competition with half the world.
Everybody wants their fifteen minutes of fame. If you remember
things you’ve done, where you might have lived, trips you’ve
taken—every piece of information helps. Rigo, I’m sure you won’t
mind exposing her to different activities to see if anything jogs
her memory.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

***

This was the third evening meal Carol had
eaten with Tina and Ernie. Rigo was at the restaurant. Sunday
evening was one of their busiest times. Carol helped Tina prepare
the food, something she enjoyed doing. She was learning about
Mexican cooking. At the table, Carol asked them when they came to
the United States.

Ernie said, “We were both born in Mexico,
but we met here. We came over many years ago. Our children were
born here.”

“Do you ever go back?”

“My mother still lives there, in a little
town south of the border. She won’t leave. We go there at least
once a year to see her.”

Tina had been watching Carol. “You know,
dear, you eat like the English.”

“I do?” Carol hadn’t paid any attention to
the way she was eating.

“Yes. You always keep your fork in your left
hand. You don’t change hands like Americans do.”

Carol compared the way she was holding her
fork to the method used by Tina and Ernie. When cutting and eating
meat, they constantly changed hands. She didn’t. She held the fork
in her left hand with the tines pointed toward the plate and her
index finger along the back. The knife was in her right hand with
her index finger on the top.

“I didn’t realize it.”

“Another thing. When we were buying you
underwear, you referred to panties as knickers. That’s English
terminology.”

Ernie was excited. “Those are clues. You’ve
obviously spent time in Great Britain. When we went there, we were
amused to watch them eat—and they were amused by us.”

The significance dawned on Carol. “My God.
That’s right. I’m sure I’ve been in London. I have a picture of the
London tube system in my head.”

Tina looked thoughtful. “You must have been
there for a while, and yet you don’t have a trace of an
accent.”

“I can speak English English.” Carol was
confident she could imitate Winston Churchill. She lowered her
voice. “We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the
landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”

“Bravo.” Ernie and Tina clapped. “You’ve got
to pass this information on to Frances.”

“I’ll call her right after dinner.”

CHAPTER 6

Frances was doing a routine check of her
e-mail on Tuesday morning when one caught her eye. The subject was
“Carol Golden.” She quickly read the rest of it:

Hi Frances,

I am a probate attorney in Chapel Hill, NC.
I first heard of you 2 years ago when the daughter of one of my
clients went missing. I have been checking your website weekly
since then since you are in the business of identifying dead
people, hoping that if Cynthia Sakai (the missing girl) is dead
that someone might have contacted you to identify her body. I
believe I even emailed you information about her at one time.

My clients are a wealthy couple in Chapel
Hill—excuse me, were a wealthy couple because they were both killed
in the crash of their private plane in the Atlantic about a month
ago, along with their son, Michael. About a year ago they each made
an addendum to their wills to the effect that I, as their executor,
would have 2 years to find Cynthia. If I don’t find her the estate
goes to charity. That leaves me with a year to find her.

Your website says that you’re looking for
the real identity of the girl called Carol Golden. I followed your
link and studied the photo and description of Carol. Although this
may be wishful thinking on my part, I have hope, however slim, that
Cynthia might still be alive and that Carol might be her.

In addition to the photo, which bears a
striking resemblance to Cynthia, and her description, which is also
close, the fact that Carol may have spent time in the UK is of
great interest as Cynthia was working in London when she
disappeared.

If Carol is Cynthia, this would be a win-win
situation, to say the least. Carol would recover her identity (not
to mention the money, which is 8 figures), and her grandmother, who
lives here in Chapel Hill, would be overjoyed. Not to mention my
satisfaction at carrying out the wishes of my clients.

Let me know your thoughts on this.

Yours sincerely,

Paul Vigiano

Attorney at Law

His address and phone number were also
enclosed. Frances liked to strike quickly when she had a lead. She
checked her watch—it was early afternoon on the East Coast—grabbed
her phone and punched in the number given by the attorney. A woman
answered with the generic greeting, “Law Offices.” Frances gave her
name and asked to speak to Paul Vigiano. She was put on hold. She
checked her watch again and was interested to note that Mr. Vigiano
answered the phone within thirty seconds.

“Frances—hi. Paul Vigiano. I’ve been looking
at your Web site so long, I feel I know you.”

“Hello, Mr. Vigiano. I have a vague memory
of receiving an e-mail from you before, but that was quite a while
ago.”

“Almost two years. But now we’ve really got
something to talk about. Is Carol, as you call her, recovered from
her injuries?”

“She’s doing very well. She still has some
scars on her face and head, but they’ll heal.”

“Good. How would you describe her
personality?”

“Outgoing, warm. To my surprise, she doesn’t
seem particularly depressed by the loss of her memory and identity,
but she is determined to recover them again. She’s active rather
than passive. She won’t sit around waiting for someone else to help
her.”

“That sounds like Cynthia, or at least what
I remember about her and know about her from her parents. She was
involved in everything.”

“What about her coloring?”

“Her father’s Japanese. I would say her
coloring matches the picture of Carol.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen
her?”

“I haven’t seen her since she was in high
school. She was away most of the time when she attended college in
Massachusetts. She went off to London two years ago, as I mentioned
in the e-mail, and disappeared almost immediately. Her parents went
over to look for her, and I hired a detective to help them, but we
turned up nothing.”

“Do you have a fairly recent photo of her
you could e-mail me, so I can compare it on this end?”

“I’m looking for one. There’s a photo we
used when we were first looking for her. I’ve misplaced my copy,
but it’s on a missing persons Web site on the Internet. Her parents
had the original. I haven’t had a chance to get their house cleaned
out yet. That photo and others must be there.”

“How about her grandmother? Does she have
any?”

“I’ll check with her and see what she
has.”

“What are the names of her parents?”

“Helen and Richard Sakai.”

“Your e-mail says Cynthia’s last name is
Sakai. Has she ever been married?”

“No…not that I know of.”

Frances wrote quickly on her lined pad. “And
her grandmother?”

“I’d like to speak to Carol on the phone.
Can you arrange that?”

“Yes; I’ll talk to her and get back to
you.”

“Where is she staying?”

“With a friend.”

“What’s the number where she’s staying?”

“Let me talk to her first. This is going to
come as a shock to her. I’ll set it up so she calls you. What did
you say the name of Cynthia’s grandmother is?”

“Listen, I’ve got to take another call. I’ll
be here all day tomorrow. I’d like to talk to Carol then.”

The line went dead. It took Frances four
minutes to find the story of the plane crash in the Web site run by
the Raleigh newspaper, the
News & Observer
. Helen and
Richard Sakai and their son, Michael, had died on August 14, 2009.
Judging by the length of the article, they must have been prominent
citizens. An eight-figure estate—something in excess of ten million
dollars—was certainly a possibility.

Elizabeth Horton was listed in the article
as being the mother of Helen. Cynthia’s name was also mentioned as
their daughter with the statement that she had been missing for two
years. Frances decided to look for stories about Cynthia and photos
of her later on the Internet.

Frances found the phone number and address
of Elizabeth Horton in nine minutes. She punched the number into
her phone. After three rings, the phone was answered with a firm
voice.

“Hello.”

“Hello, is this Elizabeth Horton?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know me. My name is Frances
Moran. I was just talking to Paul Vigiano. I believe you know
him
.”

“Of course. He’s the lawyer who’s handling
the estate of my daughter and son-in-law.” She spoke with a slight
southern drawl.

“Yes. He’s also trying to locate your
granddaughter, Cynthia.”

“Poor Cynthia. I don’t hold out much hope
for her. First my husband died, then Cynthia disappeared, and now
my daughter died. I don’t know if I can take any more
tragedies.”

Frances decided to downplay what she was
going to say. “You have my sincere condolences, Mrs. Horton. There
may be nothing to this, but Mr. Vigiano called me because I’m
working with a young woman who has amnesia. Mr. Vigiano saw her
picture and thinks she looks something like Cynthia.”

“Oh.”

When Mrs. Horton didn’t say anything more,
Frances continued. “There’s a way we can definitely prove this
woman isn’t your granddaughter, if that’s the case. It’s called a
DNA test. She’s already taken the test. If you take the same test
we’ll compare results. If you don’t match, she’s not your
granddaughter.”

“And if we match?”

“That doesn’t prove she’s your
granddaughter, but it’s strong evidence that would be taken into
consideration along with other things. Of course, you’d want to
meet her if you match.”

“Does it hurt to take the test?”

Frances gave her a description of the DNA
test. Mrs. Horton agreed to take it. Frances told her a little
about Carol, but in such a way that she wouldn’t get her hopes up.
When they were about to end the call, Frances asked her a
question.

“Do you think you’ll tell Paul Vigiano
you’re taking the test?”

Mrs. Horton paused before answering. “You
know, now that you’ve put a bug in my ear, I don’t believe I will.
He’s got a vested interest in finding Cynthia. The terms of the
wills provide that if he locates her, he’ll receive several million
dollars as a finder’s fee, over and above his fee for handling the
estate. I don’t want him…tampering with the evidence.”

“Interesting. Do you have a recent picture
of Cynthia you could send me?”

“Nothing in the past two years since she’s
been missing. When she disappeared, I gave some of my pictures of
her to Helen and Richard to use in trying to find her. I’ll see
what I can dig up.”

As soon as the call ended, Frances ordered a
DNA test kit to be sent to Mrs. Horton. Then she called a friend of
hers in Raleigh who owed her a favor. He agreed to check the terms
of the wills left by Richard and Helen Sakai.

Frances found a picture of Cynthia Sakai on
a Web site for missing persons, but it wasn’t a good shot.
Cynthia’s hair was longer than Carol’s. Their features and coloring
were similar, but shadows on the Web picture made it difficult to
compare their eyes. It wasn’t conclusive one way or another whether
Cynthia and Carol were the same person.

CHAPTER 7

“Everything checks out so far. The
provisions of the will are what Paul Vigiano described. The
preliminary value of the estate is estimated at about twenty
million dollars, of which Paul Vigiano receives twenty-five percent
if he finds Cynthia Sakai. Her parents and brother died in the
crash of their small plane in the Atlantic Ocean. The bodies of the
parents have been recovered, but not that of Michael, the brother.
The grandmother’s name is Elizabeth Horton. She’s agreed to take a
DNA test, but it will be several weeks before we get the results. I
don’t think she’s mentioned it to Vigiano.”

Frances paused to give Carol a chance to
respond. Rigo had driven Carol to Frances’ house where they were
preparing for Carol to call Vigiano.