He Never Forgot Read online

  “Or didn’t want to tell you about it.”

  Burton scowled again. “They wouldn’t keep it from me.”

  “Social services would have to know something about what kind of home you came from. And they would need to fill your adoptive parents in with enough details to handle any problems.”

  “Why would there be problems?”

  “Were you apprehended from your bio family? How old were you?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Because the older you were, the more likely it was you would have behavioral issues. And if you were coming from a home where you were abused or neglected, it would be that much worse.”

  Burton gulped down what remained of his beer and motioned to a waiter, pointing to his glass. “I was… five years old. And I didn’t have any behavioral problems.”

  “So maybe you came from a stable home. And your bio parents were killed suddenly. Nowhere else to go, so DCF comes into the picture.”

  “Maybe,” Burton agreed, giving a brief nod.

  “Do you remember anything about your bio parents? Not necessarily anything concrete like their names or what they looked like, but… impressions. Two parents or one?”

  “Two,” Burton answered immediately, then looked thoughtful.

  “What did you tell people you remembered about your home and family?”

  “I lived here… in a house… My parents…” Burton frowned, trying to remember. “Two parents, I’m sure. A mom and dad.”

  Zachary nodded. “Any siblings?”

  Burton rubbed his forehead. He looked around for the waiter with his beer. It was a few minutes before he got his beer, and then he looked at Zachary as if he’d just remembered he was there.

  “Mom and Dad said I was very quiet, very well-behaved. I got good report cards at school when I started. I have copies of those. I wasn’t a troublemaker.”

  “You can have a lot of different issues without being labeled a troublemaker.” Although Zachary had always been labeled a troublemaker himself. Unfairly so. He hadn’t been trouble. He’d just had problems. Problems dealing with his traumatic past, his abusive upbringing, his impulsivity. He’d been unable to control himself and never stayed in a home for very long.

  So maybe he had been a troublemaker.

  He’d always been singled out as one.

  “Do you have any adoptive siblings?”

  “No.” This didn’t seem to be as difficult a question for him. “Just me.”

  “Did you have imaginary friends?”

  Burton puffed out his cheeks, his forehead creasing. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t remember much from when I was that young.”

  “Most people have a few memories from when they were five or six. Or maybe your parents had cute stories about you. What else have they told you about when you first joined the family?”

  “Not a lot… they were really happy to get me. They wanted a kid and couldn’t have their own, so they picked me out.” Burton shook his head. “Is that right? Would they have been able to pick me? It’s not like I was in an orphanage where you can go from bed to bed and pick out the kid you want.”

  “No, but most agencies have books of pictures you can look at. A little blurb about each child or family group. So they might have seen your picture in a ‘waiting children’ book.”

  Burton nodded. “Yeah, that must be it. I don’t know. My mom just says how quiet and well-behaved I was. I didn’t really… get my own voice until I was older. You know how teenagers are.” A shrug.

  Going from five to thirteen without having a voice of his own was a long time. Most kids would have explored their boundaries long before that.

  “Were you in therapy?”

  “For what?”

  “When you first came to your parents. Were you in any kind of personal or family therapy to help you with the transition? Or to overcome any emotional issues.”

  “No. I didn’t need any.”

  Zachary nodded and scratched a few words into his notepad. “What do you remember about the house you are looking for? Anything?”

  “You’ll take the case?”

  Zachary nodded. “Sure, it sounds like an intriguing case. I think we’ll be able to find something.” Zachary reached into the satchel he had brought with him and pulled out an envelope. He handed Burton a one-page retainer agreement that set out his rates and usual terms. They discussed the various aspects for a few minutes, and Burton signed his name on the appropriate line.

  “Do you take credit cards?”

  “Yeah.” Zachary turned his phone on and entered his payment app. He put the initial retainer amount in the field and handed it to Burton. “Go ahead and enter your credit card information.”

  Burton tapped in a long string of numbers without taking out his wallet. An impressive feat. He entered the expiry date and handed it back to Zachary. Zachary waited for the transaction to go through, then turned his phone back off.

  “Great, that’s all covered. So we’re ready to get started.”

  Burton was gazing at Zachary’s phone, his eyes glazing. How much had he already had to drink? It couldn’t have been so much, or he wouldn’t have been able to remember his credit card number.

  “Mr. Burton. Are you ready to begin tonight? Or do you want to set up a time tomorrow?”

  It was a minute before Burton blinked and looked at Zachary. “You can call me Ben. What did you say?”

  “Let’s set up a time to meet tomorrow. You look like you’ve had a long day. You should get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow. See how much you can remember, so I have a place to start.”

  Burton rubbed the worry lines on his forehead and finally nodded. “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy.”

  “What time? Morning?”

  Burton shook his head immediately. “I’m not an early riser. It takes me a few hours to get the motor running. Morning isn’t a good time.”

  Which, if Zachary had him pegged right, meant that he would be too hungover in the morning to be any help. By noon, maybe he’d be feeling well enough to handle an interview.

  “Fair enough. After lunch? One o’clock? Do you want to meet here?”

  Burton looked around at his surroundings. “If they’re open, yeah.”

  “I’ll find out.” Zachary didn’t want to waste his time trying to flag down a waiter. They all seemed to be occupied, even though the lounge wasn’t anywhere near full. They should have been past the dinner rush. Maybe they reduced their staff once the rush was over. Zachary went to the cash register at the bar.

  “What time does the lounge open tomorrow?” He handed the bartender a bill to pay for his drink.

  “Not until one o’clock.”

  “Great. That’s fine.” Zachary held up his hands when the bartender indicated the register. “No change. Thanks.”

  He went back to Burton, who, while no longer looking so anxious, was very somber. They finalized arrangements and parted company.

  3

  He went home to Kenzie’s house rather than to his apartment. They were still splitting time between the two places, but Kenzie’s was far nicer and better stocked with food and other necessities that Zachary tended to forget about until he really needed them. So most weekdays they spent there, going back to Zachary’s for the weekend. Or sometimes they spent time apart. Each of them sometimes needed their own space. Zachary carefully monitored the amount of time he was away from Kenzie to make sure that he wasn’t asking for more space than she was. He didn’t want to be accused of being selfish or not invested in the relationship.

  “So, did you take on the new client, and is he crazy?” Kenzie asked, after greeting him with a brief kiss.

  They settled in the living room, close to each other on the couch. Kenzie shut her TV program off with the remote.

  “I took the case. He didn’t seem particularly crazy. Anxious, yes. But crazy?” Zachary shrugged. Was it crazy for a man to want to reconnect with his history
and to visit his childhood home? Zachary didn’t think it was that unusual.

  He told Kenzie about the meeting, leaving out any names or identifying information. Kenzie wrinkled her brow.

  “You don’t think it’s strange that he wants you to find this house that he can’t even remember?”

  “Well… no.”

  “I could understand it if he had fond memories of the place and wanted to revisit those feelings. But when he doesn’t remember anything about it and, by everything he’s said so far, it probably wasn’t a good atmosphere for him, why would he want to find it again?”

  “Because it’s something that he’s lost. It’s something concrete that he can look at and touch, when he doesn’t remember anything from that time.”

  Kenzie pursed her lips, considering it.

  “Why do people research their family trees? Or have their DNA tested to see what their heritage is? People like to know… their stories. Their origins. Even if it isn’t something that they can remember. Maybe… especially if they can’t remember.”

  “Is that how you feel? Do you want to do your family tree and go back—” she stopped herself and didn’t suggest that he might want to go back to his childhood home. “Go back to somewhere you used to live?”

  “No. I was ten when I left there… I remember it all very clearly. I wouldn’t want to go back there, even if it did still exist.”

  Kenzie nodded.

  “But I do want to reconnect with my siblings,” Zachary pointed out. “I haven’t seen them for a long time, and the little ones wouldn’t remember me at all. But I would hope… that they would still want to see me even though they don’t remember me.”

  “Yes, of course. And would you want to see your parents again?”

  Zachary caught his breath. He felt like he’d been kicked in the chest, suddenly unable to draw in any more oxygen. Would he ever want to see his parents again if he had the opportunity? He had pleaded to go back to his mother. He had begged his social worker to see if she had changed her mind and might take him and the others back again. For years, he had fantasized about going home again, escaping whatever situation he was in and living some happily-ever-after with his family.

  “Zachary…” Kenzie rubbed his back. “Sorry, was that the wrong thing to say? I just wondered how you felt about it. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Zachary tried to shake his head and draw another breath. The world felt like it had frozen around him. Or maybe that he’d frozen inside himself.

  “It’s okay. Think about the good things. Think about being here with me. About Tyrrell, and Heather, and Joss. You were so happy to meet them again. Think about how nice it’s been to have contact with them again.”

  Zachary managed a tiny nod, but still couldn’t breathe. Kenzie continued to rub his back, not trying to rush him back. Not like those who pinched or slapped him to try to ‘get his attention’ when he got lost in memories. Zachary forced a little air out, then breathed in shallowly. It was a few minutes before he felt the tension melting, the memories releasing him.

  “Getting a drink,” he told Kenzie, trying to rise.

  “You just stay there. I’ll get you a glass of water.” Kenzie got up. “You need anything else?” She didn’t ask him if he needed his Xanax. She would let him ask for it.

  “No. Just… dry.”

  Kenzie had cold water in a filter jug in the fridge. She poured him a tall glass and handed it to him on her return. Zachary sipped the icy cold water. It was just what he needed.

  “When I was a kid… I still wanted to go back to them. I thought I could make everything right again. Glue the family back together again. But by the time I was an adult…” He shook his head. “I knew that would never work and that… the kind of people they were… I wouldn’t want to live with them again.”

  Kenzie looked into his eyes. “Things must have been pretty bad.”

  “When I was little, I didn’t really know… it’s just the way things were. I held on to times when things were better… kind of pretended that things were good most of the time. But as I got older, I realized… how bad they really were. And my mom…” Zachary took a deep breath, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him again. “I told you how she was when she decided to get rid of us. She was…” Zachary breathed in and out again, strangled. “I can’t imagine anyone treating a child like that. I thought I was grown up and that I deserved it. For a long time. But now… when I look at Rhys, or other people’s kids… I can’t imagine it. Rhys is a teenager, and I would still never talk to him the way she did to me or hold him responsible for… making a mistake like that.”

  “Yeah. You have to realize… she was unreasonable.”

  “There were six of us, and I know I was in trouble a lot,” Zachary started, jumping to his mother’s defense even after pointing out himself how wrong she had been to treat him that way. “I get how she might feel overwhelmed… burned out…”

  “That’s no excuse for abandoning six kids. Or for calling you the names she did.”

  Zachary bit his lip and nodded. He took another sip of the water, welcoming the chill. “So… no. I think that even if one of them came looking for me… I don’t think I would want to meet them. Never again.”

  Kenzie nodded. She put her hand over his, soothing him. “Anyway… I didn’t mean to bring all that up. I just didn’t understand why the house would be so important to your client.”

  Zachary chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking about it. While it had seemed natural to him, on a closer examination, he wasn’t sure it was as logical as he had asserted. Why did Burton want to find his house instead of finding his parents? Did he come from a background like Zachary’s? Had they been abusive or negligent? He might not even remember any of that. He could just be following a feeling. Drawn to the house, but not to his abusers.

  “I don’t know. If he was apprehended when he was five, he probably didn’t have a great life. Or maybe his parents were killed. He might know that without remembering it, if it was traumatic.”

  Kenzie nodded. “Things to think about,” she said lightly. “Follow the clues.”

  Zachary nodded. He deliberately leaned back into the soft upholstery of the couch, trying to relax all of his muscles. He didn’t need to worry about his biological parents. They weren’t going to show up out of the blue. He could just focus on the case without exploring the similarities to his own life. In the meantime, he was with Kenzie, and he should focus on her and their relationship.

  “I wonder how Rhys is doing,” Kenzie mused. “When is the last time you saw him?”

  “Just after… everything happened.” Zachary shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t want to get in the way. I’m not sure how Vera feels about me seeing him. She said it’s okay, but I don’t want to push my way in where I’m not wanted.”

  “It wasn’t your fault that Rhys saw Noah—Luke—shot. You were trying to protect them.”

  “Yes. But maybe I could have made different choices than I did. His grandma has the right to be upset about it. It’s one thing that he was there, in the middle of everything. That would be bad enough. But the fact that it triggered flashbacks to his grandfather being murdered…” Zachary sighed. “I don’t know if she can forgive me for that.”

  “I think you’re the one having problems forgiving yourself for that. From what you said before, it sounds like Vera was pretty good about it.”

  Kenzie was uncomfortably close to the truth. Zachary did blame himself for Rhys’s increased emotional distress. He had been trying to help, but he should have been smarter. He should have known that the traffickers would be able to track Luke.

  “You should message him,” Kenzie said. “It can’t hurt to just keep in touch, let him know you’re thinking about him.”

  “If it makes him think about that night, and about Grandpa Clarence being shot, then it could hurt. It could make things worse when he is starting to recover.”

  “Then ask Vera what she thinks
.”

  “Mmm.” Zachary made a noncommittal noise. He’d have to think about it. Even though Vera had treated him with grace and kindness, he didn’t relish having to call her up to ask for a progress report on Rhys. It felt like having to go to a neighbor to tell them that you ran over their cat. Even if they took it well, it still felt awful. “Maybe I’ll just wait for Rhys to contact me.”

  4

  Ben Burton wasn’t looking quite up to snuff when Zachary found him in the lounge for the second day in a row. He was already nursing a drink, and his eyes were bloodshot and shadowed. He nodded as Zachary approached the booth, the same one they had sat in the evening before.

  Zachary smiled. “How are you this afternoon?”

  “Just fine.” Burton’s voice was gravelly. He rubbed his forehead and shrugged at Zachary, realizing that Zachary could see the condition he was in. “A few more drinks under my belt and I’ll be better.”

  “Do you have a drinking problem?” Zachary asked baldly. There was no point in tiptoeing around it.

  Burton rubbed a hand through his hair. “I drink,” he said. “Some people have a problem with it. Do you?”

  “Are you going to be able to hold it together? To answer my questions and to pay the bills?”

  “It doesn’t affect me. I can drink all day long. It doesn’t make any difference.”

  Zachary doubted that was entirely true. He sat down across from Burton. “If you want me to work with you, you’re going to need to be available. And coherent enough to give me the information I need from you.”

  “I told you it doesn’t affect me. Do I sound drunk? I’m here like we arranged. I’m talking. I’m making sense. I could drive now if I had to. There isn’t a problem.”

  Zachary shook his head but didn’t bother trying to convince Burton otherwise. He knew how pointless it was to talk an alcoholic out of drinking. There had been a lot of people in his life who had drunk too much. It was nothing new. At least with a client, he could simply drop the case if Burton became abusive or wasn’t able to give Zachary the information he needed to track down Burton’s childhood home.