LEWIS FISHER SR. had obviously done well for himself, because the facility he was in was an upscale private one. The building was designed to look like an antebellum plantation, with tall, broad columns and a huge porch that was filled with rocking chairs and residents doing the rocking. The interior was decorated with bright wallpaper, wooden chair railing, six-inch crown molding, and thick plush carpets. There was even a game room with a pool table and an old-fashioned soda fountain.
The bulletin board in the lobby was filled with activity sheets. Senior citizens were walking or rolling to their next appointments. The place was full of energy and enthusiasm as Decker and Jamison strolled down the wide corridor accompanied by one of the staff. She was dressed in crisp blue scrubs. Her name tag read Deb. She waved and greeted residents as they walked along.
“Nice place,” said Jamison. “Everyone seems really happy.”
“A lot better than anything the state offers,” said Deb. “But you have to pay for it, and it’s not cheap. This is definitely for the upper echelon. We get folks from like a two-hundred-mile area because the facility is so unique and this part of Texas is big and isolated.” She sighed. “I could never afford to come here when I get to be their age.”
They reached a set of double doors with a sign reading Memory Unit overhead. Deb had to use her key card to access the doors.
“Is that so no one in the unit can wander away?” noted Jamison.
“Exactly,” she said as they passed through the opening. “We don’t want anyone getting lost.”
She led them down the hall and then turned toward a door about halfway down. She knocked.
“Dr. Fisher, you have visitors.”
They heard a grunt from inside.
Deb turned to them. “He has good and bad days. I’m not sure which one this will be. He gets very frustrated, like many of our memory unit patients.” She eyed the FBI credential that rode on Decker’s hip. “Is Dr. Fisher in some sort of trouble?”
“He’s in no trouble at all,” said Decker.
“Well, that’s a relief. You know, when he first came here his memory was razor sharp. Probably better than yours.”
“I seriously doubt that,” said Decker as he pushed open the door and went inside.
A startled Deb looked at Jamison, who gazed at her awkwardly. “It’s a long story,” she said. “We’ll let you know when we’re done. Thanks.” She joined Decker inside the room and closed the door.
Fisher was sitting up in the chair next to his bed. He had on a hospital gown and his feet were resting in white slippers. He looked to be in his late eighties, bent and frail. When he looked up at them, Decker could see a lot of the grandson in the man.
“Dr. Fisher?” he said.
“Who the hell are you?” Fisher barked.
“This might be one of the bad days,” whispered Jamison.
Decker grew closer. “I’m a friend of your grandson. So is she.”
Fisher turned his gaze to Jamison. “She’s not my grandson.”
“No, she’s a friend of your grandson’s.”
Fisher looked down at his lap.
Jamison knelt next to him. “This is a very nice room.”
Fisher looked up at her. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Alex and this is Amos.”
“Amos and Andy. Like the show?” said Fisher.
“No, Alex and Amos. He’s Amos. I’m Alex.”
He glanced at Decker. “You’re very large.”
“Yes, I am.” He pulled up another chair and sat down. “Your grandson told us you were a dentist for a long time. You had a lot of patients.”
Fisher looked puzzled. “Dentist? My grandson, my grandson…”
“Lewis,” said Jamison helpfully.
“My name is Lewis,” he barked. Then he added in a quieter, desperate tone, “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, and he was named after you.”
Fisher rapped his head with his knuckles. “This just all…”
“I know,” said Jamison soothingly. “I’m sure it’s frustrating.”
Decker said, “You were a dentist, Dr. Fisher. You had lots of patients. Do you remember the Mars family? Roy and Lucinda? And Melvin?”
“Mars? Like the planet? Are you talking about the planet Mars? It’s…it’s the red planet.” He smiled and looked pleased.
“No, not the planet. A family named Mars. They were killed. And the records in your office were used to confirm their identity.”
“Killed? The planet was killed? Are you…crazy?”
Jamison put a hand on Decker’s arm. “Let me try.”
She turned to Fisher and said very quietly, “They were patients of yours a long time ago. Twenty years. They were killed. Their bodies were burned, so they had to use their dental records to identify them. Records from your office.”
She looked at Fisher hopefully, but all she got back was a blank stare.
A minute went by and no one broke the silence.
Decker was about to say something when Jamison held up a hand.
“Dr. Fisher, I have a tooth problem. Do you remember me? I’m Lucinda Mars. This is my husband, Roy Mars. He has a tooth problem too. Can you help us? We’re your patients. You have our records.”
They waited a long moment. At first it didn’t seem Fisher would answer her.
Fisher said, “Maxillary second premolar.”
“What was that, Dr. Fisher?” said Jamison.
“Maxillary second premolar,” he repeated, shaking his head.
Jamison said, “What about it?”
“Not right.”
“What wasn’t right?”
“The second premolar. Just not right.”
Jamison knelt down next to him. “Whose? Roy’s or Lucinda’s?”
“Just not right. Should’ve said. Not right.” He looked up at Decker. “Who the hell are you?”
“A very grateful man.” Decker rose and said to Jamison, “Can you stay here and see if you can get anything more out of him? I’ll come back and get you.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find a maxillary second premolar.”