Black for Remembranceby Carlene Thompson
Caroline Webb knows what it means to lose the person you love most. Twenty years ago, her five-year-old daughter, Hayley, was the light of her life, her treasure, her angle. Then came the terrible day when Hayley was kidnapped from her favorite swing. More than a month passed before her burned, lifeless body was found. All that remained was the silence of… See more details below
Caroline Webb knows what it means to lose the person you love most. Twenty years ago, her five-year-old daughter, Hayley, was the light of her life, her treasure, her angle. Then came the terrible day when Hayley was kidnapped from her favorite swing. More than a month passed before her burned, lifeless body was found. All that remained was the silence of Caroline's heartache--and her guilt...
Now, Caroline has started over with a new husband. She even has another precious daughter, Melinda. She thinks she has put the ghosts of her past behind her. But without warning, those ghosts once again start to echo in the night. Suddenly, Hayley's favorite doll reappears...strange murders rock the Webbs' small town...Caroline even claims she has heard the voice of the little girl she lost all those years ago. Could Hayley still be out there somewhere, somehow? Now a killer waits in the wings--waiting to make Caroline live her worst nightmare yet...
“Loaded with mystery and suspense...Mary Higgins Clark fans take note.” Kirkus Reviews
“Thompson creates smart, interesting characters the reader cares about within a gripping suspense story.” Judith Kelman, author of After the Fall
- HarperCollins Publishers
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Read an Excerpt
Black for Remembrance
By Carlene Thompson
St. Martin's PressCopyright © 1991 Carlene Thompson
All rights reserved.
"WHY DID YOU give me peanut butter instead of cream cheese?"
Caroline Webb looked at her eight-year-old daughter, Melinda, who was peering critically between slices of wheat bread. "Daddy said cream cheese could spoil before noon."
"Jenny brings cream cheese sandwiches."
"Jenny also came down with a mild case of food poisoning two weeks ago." David Webb straightened his tie in front of the kitchen mirror, then turned to grin at his daughter, his craggy features creasing with homely amiability. "You don't want to get sick, do you?"
"I guess not." Melinda clumsily rewrapped her sandwich in Saran Wrap and poked through her Barbie lunch box. "Cherry Kool-Aid in my thermos?"
"Apple juice," Caroline said.
"Yuck. And where are my Reese Cups?"
"I gave you a granola bar instead."
Melinda groaned in agony, and her father swooped over her, his fingers digging into her thin sides. "Shut up and stop pestering your mom, kid."
"Daddy, quit it!" Melinda laughed.
"Not until you tell me how much you love granola."
"Never!" David tickled harder. "Okay, I love it, I love it!" Melinda shrieked. David let go and she fell into a gasping heap of giggles on the yellow-and-white linoleum floor. George, their black Labrador, rushed over to bathe her in kisses, which brought on a fresh attack of hysterics.
"What's all the noise?" Greg Webb, fifteen, ambled into the kitchen, his curtly black hair still wet from the shower.
"Mommy gave me apple juice and granola," Melinda told him in injured tones as she struggled to her feet.
"Hippie food," Greg announced. "They ate that kind of stuff in the sixties."
Caroline cocked an eyebrow at him. "Around here we still eat it. And Melinda, if you want to be a ballerina, you have to eat healthy food. Reese Cups will make you so fat no one can lift you."
"Baryshnikov. And he'll be retired by the time you're a prima ballerina."
"Oh, damn," Melinda muttered, then flushed and added hastily, "I mean darn."
"Sunday school's doing the child a world of good," David said, dropping a kiss on his daughter's chestnut hair. "Can you sue Sunday school teachers?"
Caroline put the last plate in the dishwasher and shut the door. "No, only doctors."
David grimaced. "Don't remind me. I just wrote a check for my malpractice insurance last night." He shrugged into his raincoat. "I'm getting out of this madhouse." He wrapped an arm around Caroline's slim waist. "What's on your agenda today?"
"I'm taking some things over to Lucy's, then going to the grocery store. Fidelia's coming."
David rolled his dark eyes. "Out of all the cleaning ladies in the city, why are we blessed with the one who practices voodoo?"
"Just because she's from Haiti doesn't mean she practices voodoo."
"Well, she's always messing around with tea leaves."
"Not tea leaves, Daddy," Melinda piped. "Tarot cards. Fidelia says I'm the Page of Cups."
"Reese Cups, no doubt." Melinda giggled, but David frowned into Caroline's eyes. "I don't know that I like all this hocus-pocus around the kids," he said in the fogyish tone that drove Caroline crazy.
"It's just for fun," she explained, keeping the irritation from her voice. "She's a perfectly respectable person. She even taught school in Haiti."
"So why is she cleaning houses here?"
"Something about not having the teaching credentials, and there was a sick father until a few months ago. They couldn't afford a nursing home, and Fidelia had to spend most of her time with the old man. But anyway, she cleans for six other families, not just for us. She's thorough and polite. She's even teaching Melinda a little French."
"And I'm an old sourpuss." David kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry. If you're happy with her, that's all that counts."
And it was, Caroline knew. Her husband adored her in his preoccupied way, and he did his best to tolerate her acceptance of people who were very different from herself, although he didn't understand it.
Caroline kissed David's cheek, which always showed an underlying shadow of heavy black beard that no longer matched his mostly silver hair. "Don't deliver too many babies today," she said affectionately.
"There's nary a one on schedule, but that doesn't mean a thing." He turned to the kids. "Who wants a ride to school?"
"Me!" Melinda clicked shut the offending lunch box. "When Greg walks me he always drags along looking at girls, and I want to get there early to check on Aurora."
David frowned. "Who in the world is Aurora?"
"My bean sprout. I told you already. I call her Aurora because that was Sleeping Beauty's name, and my bean sprout's still sleeping." She looked forlorn. "All the other kids' sprouts are growing."
"Maybe Fidelia can cast a spell on Aurora," Greg said, peeling a banana in spite of the massive breakfast he had consumed twenty minutes earlier.
"Bean sprouts," David sighed. "In my day we read Shakespeare."
"In the third grade?" Caroline asked dryly.
"I was a child prodigy."
"Don't let him kid you, squirt," Greg said to his sister. "When he was in the third grade, Shakespeare hadn't even been born."
David threw a dishcloth at him and Caroline laughed, knowing that age jokes didn't faze her husband, even though at fifty-six he was older than the fathers of Greg's friends. "You can walk to school." He took Melinda's hand. "Come on — by the time we finally make it to school, Aurora will be a foot tall."
"I'll see you guys after school," Caroline said.
Melinda shook her head in a violent negative. "I'm supposed to go to Jenny's after school, remember? Her mom's making spaghetti."
Caroline frowned "Is her mother going to pick you up at school?"
"Sure. And she'll drive me home."
"I guess it's okay then, although I'd feel better if I were picking you up."
"But Mommy, it's all fixed."
"And I have basketball practice," Greg said, tossing away the empty banana peel. "Then I'm taking Julie for pizza."
"I want you home by eight."
"Eight! None of the other guys have stupid curfews like I do."
"It's a school night, and considering your grades —"
"Eight is a little early, Caroline," David said.
Greg's face settled into the prickly lines that had become familiar since he reached adolescence. "Great. I ought to be safe from werewolves at that hour."
"Not if there's a full moon," Caroline said sweetly, and Greg grinned in spite of himself. She looked at David. "Looks like it's just you and me."
"Honey, it's Monday. I have evening office hours."
"Oh, David, I thought we decided you were only going to be in the office Tuesday and Friday nights. Three nights a week is too much."
"I know. I'll cut back as soon as I can get things squared away." Caroline had no idea what had to be "squared away." It was merely another one of David's excuses when he didn't want to argue about his work, which consumed him. She sighed and let the point go. "I promise I'll be back by nine," David said.
"Sure." Caroline forced a smile, knowing that meant ten at the earliest.
The four of them trailed out the door into the garage. While David helped Melinda strap herself into the seat of the Mercedes, Caroline snapped on the automatic garage door opener and the big door whirred upward. With exaggerated teenaged nonchalance, Greg loped away without a backward look, but Melinda waved as if she were leaving on an ocean voyage while David backed out.
Thank goodness she's over those crying jags that sent her home from school at least two days a week last spring, Caroline thought. Lots of attention and time at home with her mother over the summer had eased whatever anxiety Melinda was feeling but refused to reveal. Now she seemed relatively content with school, although her teacher Miss Cummings said she had a tendency to cling. Maybe she picked that up from me, Caroline mused. I've always been overprotective with her and Greg. But what mother with my experience wouldn't be?
She smiled and waved back at Melinda. Then she shut the door, poured a second cup of coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table with George stretched out beside her.
They had moved into the house nine years before, when Caroline learned she was pregnant with their second child, and she had loved the place since the first day. But especially, she loved her big, airy kitchen with its island range and the huge antique maple table facing a floor-to-ceiling window. This morning she looked out on their acre of front lawn, still green beneath a wisteria-blue October sky. White and yellow chrysanthemums massed themselves in thick beds beneath the window, and a crimson cardinal perched importantly atop the wrought- iron lawn lamp.
"I'm a very lucky woman," she said aloud, listening to the thump of George's tail on the floor as he stared up at her. "I'm an incredibly lucky woman. If only I could forget ..."
Her stomach was starting to tighten in that sickeningly familiar way, when someone tapped on the kitchen door and she ran to open it, absurdly happy to see Fidelia, gazing back at her. "I'm early. Too early? I can go away for a while."
"Don't be silly. I'm glad you're here." Fidelia stepped in, her bare arms speckled with goosebumps. "I don't know when you're going to realize you're not in Haiti anymore and start dressing for cold weather. How about some coffee to warm you up?"
"Sounds good. Sugar, no cream." Caroline loved Fidelia's honeyed Caribbean accent an English-speaking, Ohio-born father and several years in the United States had done nothing to temper. She stooped, her faded red-print cotton dress flowing out around her thin, bare legs. "Hello dere, George, my handsome man!" The dog rolled on his back for a belly rub, which Fidelia laughingly administered. "Dis is de biggest baby in de house."
"You'd be surprised at how protective he can be, though," Caroline said, pouring coffee. "Last year a man broke in one night when David was gone, and George nearly took off his hand. Then the guy had the nerve to try to sue us, but of course he got nowhere."
"You should be glad you live in Ohio, not California. A judge might have listened to him out dere."
They sat down at the table, and Fidelia, looked at Caroline closely, her strange light-blue eyes sharp in her café-au-lait face. "You all right dis morning?"
"Of course." Caroline smiled. "Well, at least I was until about ten minutes ago. Then I started thinking about something sad."
"Your little girl — Hayley?"
Caroline looked at her in surprise. "You are psychic."
Fidelia shook her head. "You don't have to be psychic to know when a woman is grieving over a child."
"But I've never mentioned Hayley to you."
"I've lived in dis town five years. I've heard a lot of talk in all dat time, especially since I work for another lady who knows you."
Caroline's eyes drifted back to the gay chrysanthemums. "Yes, I should have thought of that. I think Alice Anderson's favorite topic of conversation is the kidnapping and murder of my little girl and my divorce from Chris."
"Yes, Mrs. Anderson she talks a lot. But why is Hayley on your mind today?"
"She's always on my mind. But last night I dreamed about her. It was a terrible, frightening dream about her death. It was very brutal."
"I know all de details," Fidelia said softly.
"And also, today is Hayley's birthday. I always put flowers on her grave on her birthday. She would have been twenty-five. That's how old I was when she died."
Fidelia wore beautiful dangling silver earrings that caught the light when she shook her head. "Hard to tink of you with a child dat old. You look tirty-five."
"You're sweet, Fidelia."
"I've been called many tings, but never sweet." She laughed, a deep, smoker's laugh, her even teeth white against red lipstick. Caroline had never been able to guess her age — the glossy, undyed black hair said twenties; the leathery skin said sixty years in the sun. "Why don't you get out, cheer yourself up?"
"I was planning to go by Lucille Elder's place."
"Buying or selling?"
"Selling." Elder's Interiors was the most popular interior design studio in the city. "She commissioned six needlepoint pillows and eight crewel dining chair seat covers for Pamela Fitzgerald's new house."
"I don't know her."
"Her last name is really Burke now. She's married to Larry Burke. His father owns Burke's Construction Company." Caroline frowned. "Maybe that's part of what has me down today. Pamela was in Hayley's kindergarten class, but I'd forgotten her until Lucy started talking about her lately. I keep thinking that if things had been different, maybe Hayley would be the one married to a rich young man and decorating a big, new house."
"You can't second guess de fates."
"I've never believed in fate, Fidelia. Life's always seemed a matter of chance to me." She drained her cup. "Good heavens, now I'm waxing philosophical. It's definitely time for me to get out for a while."
"Go for de day," Fidelia said. "Enjoy yourself. I'll make de house sparkle for you, and lock up when I leave."
Caroline went upstairs, took a shower, washed her hair, and, after blowing it dry, wound it on hot rollers. She wore it shoulder-length and softly curled, although lately she'd been wondering if she shouldn't change to a more mature style, even though it was still a shiny chestnut, the gray limited to a few hairs she always quickly pulled out. She told herself she wore it long for David, but she knew he wasn't particular. It was Chris who years ago had loved her thick, then-waist-length hair, Chris who had painted her naked, sitting on the bed drawing a silver-backed brush through a half-concealing veil of russet-tinged strands.
She rubbed a window in the steam on the mirror. "Caroline, you are a melancholy soul today," she said, grinning. "You should be wearing flowing white robes and carrying a candle." Then the grin faded, and she peered closer. Fidelia was right — she didn't look her forty-four years, which somehow made her feel shallow. After all she'd been through, why should her pale forehead be only finely lined, her eyes as clear green and steady as they had been twenty years ago? Melinda will look like me when she's forty-four, she thought. Melinda is the image of me.
Half an hour later, wearing brown wool slacks, a bright yellow sweater, and a tweed blazer, she loaded the pillows in her Thunderbird and waved good-bye to Fidelia, whose long, still gaze followed her out the driveway.
Caroline rolled down her car window, drinking in the crisp air that tasted as crystal blue as the sky. The sun had turned the pale yellow of autumn, and the trees blazed gold and red. She passed the grade school and glanced over, zeroing in on the room where Melinda had third grade. Construction-paper leaf cutouts decorated the windows, and a jack-o'-lantern grinned at her. Which reminded her, Halloween was in two days. She would have to put the finishing touches on Melinda's costume and be sure to stock enough candy for the hordes of children who drifted up and down their street until nine, when the city decreed all ghouls must return home.
Caroline stopped for gasoline and oil, then headed for Elder's Interiors. As usual she pulled around to the tiny private lot in back, where Lucy's white Corvette and her assistant Tina Morgan's Volkswagen huddled in the building's shade. She angled the Thunderbird in beside a tree so she wouldn't block the other cars. She could easily move if anyone needed to get out, but she doubted that young Tina would ask — the store seemed to be her life. Lucy said she arrived at 7:30 in the morning, brought a sack lunch, and usually left well after six in the evening. Caroline had seen for herself how devoted Tina was when Lucy redecorated the Webb home two months earlier. Tina always seemed to be around — measuring, making suggestions, insistently poring over wallpaper and paint samples with Caroline until at last Caroline had simple closed her eyes and pointed to selections, telling Lucy to correct any major blunders she'd made. But for all her intensity, Tina was beautiful and lively. By the time she left, Greg had developed a crush on her, and Melinda announced that except for Mommy and Lucy, Tina was her favorite grown-up girl.
Excerpted from Black for Remembrance by Carlene Thompson. Copyright © 1991 Carlene Thompson. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Carlene Thompson is the author of Last Whisper, Nowhere to Hide, and Don't Close Your Eyes, among other books. She attended college at Marshall University and earned her Ph.D. in English from Ohio State University. She taught at the University of Rio Grande before leaving to focus on her writing full-time. Besides writing, she spends her time caring for the many dogs and cats she's adopted. A native West Virginian, she lives with her husband Keith in Point Pleasant, West Virginia.
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First book I have read by this author, but will be reading more. This book has a nice plot, suspense level, and cast of characters. ( I like Fidelia and Melinda) If you like suspense novels, you will definitely like this one. ?
Read this book years ago, and it remains one of my all time favorites! Outstanding mystery.
I thought this book was very, very good. I could not figure out through out the whole book who did it, and when I did find out it came as a total surprise. I don't like books where you can find out who did it in the first couple chapters. This book is good, fast reading and a hard book to put down! I can't wait to read another of her books!!!!!!
Read this awhile ago when i was much younger and could read it a million times
This book had me guessing the whole time and I didn't want to lay it down. I would spend all night just reading to see what would happen next.
I came across this book at the library, and have been hooked on Carlene Thompson's books ever since.
This book will keep readers of all ages on their feet, from beginning to end. Carlene Thompson's writing strategies are outstanding, she understands emotional and logical appeals which makes the story easier to follow. This is a classic story that shows love prevails all evil in the end, and unfortold hopes and dreams.
I had read many other CT books before this one, they all start out with a person 'dying' and if you know CTs style you will see this one was a little diffrent. I was so shocked at the end, you usually feel some sympathy for the killer...but this one you didn't know whether to be happy this person is caught or wish this twisted person had a better life...
I have never read a book quite like this one. I loved every minute of it. I hated to even look away from the pages. I am trying to get everyone to read it. It drew me in from the minute i read the title.
I read this book in less than 24 hours. Excellent storyline, good twists and great ending. This is the first book I've read by this author, but not my last!
This book kept me on my toes. I have read it several times and still never tire of reading it!
This book is an awesome, hold on to the edge of your seat book that is easily read in one setting. One of those that you can barely wait to finish one page just to get to the next. I first discovered this book shortly after it's release and have been following Carlene Thompson's work ever since. Highly recommend this book to those who love a good mystery and even those who think they don't. Have lent the book to so many people I had to go buy a new one!
I happened upon this book at the library, and could not put it down! The end will definitely surprise the reader!!! Carlene Thompson is a fabulous mystery writer, and the best I've found in a while. She is very descriptive, and her characters (most) are likeable.
Very very good book. The start seemed to take a little while for me to settle in, but after that...it was great! I tried and tried to figure this out the entire way throug, I did not get it correct. I was so thrilled with the ending and events leading to the amazing ending. This book was heart pounding wonderful. I have now picked up my 2nd book by this author.
Wow! There is nothing really to describe the impact of that book. There is no way to sum up the felling you get as you start to guess at who did what and when. This book just keeps you guessing and guessing. This has been one of the best books I have ever read!!!!!
The best book ever...Thrilling, Suspenseful. I kept on trying to figure it out but i couldnt and i was wrong... I just picked it up at the library cause it looked good and it was. OMG it was the best. SHe deserves more than a 5 probably a 10 out of 10. you should read it, it is very good. Revenge is horrible expecially for these people in the black fo remembrance. Black silk. Read it!!!!
A combination of mystery, detective work, and an element of the supernatural make BLACK FOR REMEMBRANCE a very scary read. I was turning on lights and paying serious attention to every little noise in the house in the one day it took me to finish the book. Hideous crimes against the child Hayley have returned to haunt her parents as well as bringing death to everyone somehow connected to them. Is this a copycat, or should we seriously believe in the return of a spirit made evil? A small, intimate setting and well-defined characters make the read enjoyable. The book is especially scary in light of the number of missing children and cases of pedophilia reported today. I am eagerly awaiting Carlene Thompson's next write.
I read this book in September. I purchased the book from the DU College of Law Library. I could not put this book down. I became addicted. Even with a Criminal Law background the results at the end were amazing. I recommend this book to any Criminal Law Student,attorney (DA/Defense Attorney) or Professor. This book is "Off The Hook"!!!!!