Page 21 of Monkey Business

“The symptoms can also affect behavior. The various forms can be Alzheimer’s, vascular dementia, mixed dementia, and many others. Some of the side effects are reversible. Others are not. People used to believe, in fact, many still believe, that it’s the same as senility, and it’s ‘normal’ as we age. It’s not.”

“What are some of the typical symptoms you would see?” asked Ghost.

“Well, they can certainly be wide and varied, but a few could include short-term memory, losing your wallet, keys, or purse, you forget to pay your bills or plan your meals, or even eat your meals. Dementia symptoms are progressive, which means that the signs of cognitive impairment start out slowly and gradually get worse over time, leading to dementia.”

“There’s no cure?” frowned Ian.

“No. I’m sorry. Is this a loved one you’re inquiring about?” he asked.

“No. As we mentioned, it’s a cold case we’re working on. By all accounts, this man was becoming slightly forgetful. He exhibited some of the things you mentioned. Forgetting to pay his bills, walking into a room and not remembering why he was there. That sort of thing. But everyone we’ve spoken to said he was sweet, thoughtful, and kind.”

“It’s a miserable, horrible disease,” said the doctor. “It robs you of every memory, everything good in your life.”

“I’m curious. Is there anything that could halt the disease?” asked Ian.

“No. I’m afraid not. Even if you could, it wouldn’t improve it. If you found out when, say, forty percent of their memory was gone, even if you halted it, forty percent would still be gone.”

“That just fucking sucks,” growled Ghost. The man chuckled, nodding at him.

“It does indeed. Listen, I’ve studied dementia and Alzheimer’s for thirty years. I’ve never seen a case of anyone killing someone related to their disease. They can get violent and mean, but kill? I’ve not seen it.”

“Thank you for your time,” said Ian, shaking the man’s hand.

“I hope you’re able to prove innocence. It would be horrible if everyone believed that dementia created murderers. We’d all eventually be in jail.”

“One more question,” said Ghost. “What age does this typically start?”

“Usually, it’s someone over the age of fifty. But I have seen it as early as forty.”

“Thank you,” nodded Ghost. When they stepped out into the heat and sunlight of Las Vegas, they looked at one another, shaking their heads.

“Brother, if I ever get to that stage, shoot me. Put a bullet in my fucking brain. I don’t want to forget my wife, my kids, my grandkids. I want to remember all the shitholes I’ve been in and all the men I’ve worked with.

“Hell, I walk into rooms now and forget why I walked in there. It scares the shit out of me after hearing all of this. I mean it. If I start to slip, you have to kill me before it gets too bad,” said Ghost.

“Nope. Because I’ll need you there to shoot me.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Trak, Angel, always good to see you boys,” smirked Sheriff Landry, welcoming them into the trailer parked out at the fairgrounds. The department often set up remote offices when working large-scale events such as this one. He chuckled to himself, calling Trak and Angel ‘boys.’ They were at least thirty years older than him but looked twenty years younger. He never questioned it, just went with it.

“Landry, nice to see you,” said Angel. “We were just wondering if there had been any complaints about the circus fair.”

“No. I wouldn’t say any complaints, really. I’ve got a mother of a young boy who took her son to the fair yesterday and never came home. The little boy was crying, and security found him near the animal cages. They picked him up and put out a public call for the mom on the speaker system, but she never came around.”

“Foul play?” asked Trak.

“We’re not sure. The father admitted that they’d had issues the last few months, so it’s possible she just left.”

“Leave the kid?” frowned Angel. “I don’t know. Leave her husband, yeah, I get that. But leave her child? Most women won’t do that.”

“Well, this one obviously did. No credit card charges yet. Her car is missing, so we think she just left, walked off or drove off with someone.”

“Anything else?” asked Angel.

“Nothing. We’ve sent out animal control several times to check on the animals. You can tell Mama Irene to stop hounding me about that. The animals are fine.” The two men chuckled, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to say anything to Mama Irene.

“I’ve had extra deputies out here, even hired some private security to be sure nothing goes wrong. No pickpockets. No cheating carnival games. Nothing.”

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