Flashback (2 page)

In a scientific facility, a female patient, who had short-cropped, green hair, was restrained on a table for some kind of medical procedure, but was still struggling. A woman in a white lab coat injected something into the patient’s lower arm, and the young woman soon lay quiet. A circular device was placed over her head and a screen behind the operating table became illuminated. Swirling shapes flickered across the surface of the screen, but before Max could make them out clearly, everything shifted yet again.

“Are the restraints tight enough?”

“Yes, of course they are. I told you, I know what I’m doing.”

“Now keep still, David, this won’t hurt a bit.”

Max struggled against the bonds securing him to the operating table. The hypodermic needle in the doctor’s hand was now only inches away from Max’s eye. The younger man with the long hair and pale blue eyes grinned. Max screamed and abruptly woke up in his own bedroom, gasping for breath.

He sat up on the bed, clutching at his chest, his heart still pounding. Max gradually began to compose himself and breathe normally, but his mind was still racing. The images that had flooded into his mind at the cemetery had returned and this time they’d seemed so real.

Max knew that he couldn’t mention anything to his dad, who was certain to mention Dr. Hammond.
Max was determined to avoid another round of sessions with a shrink to discuss odd dreams and potential mental health issues.
There just had to be some other explanation for the strange mental images he’d experienced.

Max knew that he had to find out more, so he went downstairs. Standing at the top of the steps leading to the basement, Max called down to his dad.

“Can I use the computer yet?”

“Sorry,” his dad apologized, “not yet. I had to unplug everything in the office to access the wiring in the wall.”

Max cursed under his breath. He hated being reminded of the fact that he was probably the only kid in school who didn’t even have a desktop computer of his own. And his laptop had been getting fixed at the store for weeks now. Fortunately his dad hardly ever used the computer and didn’t really know PDF from ABC. He could barely deal with e-mail, so it wasn’t as if Max had any real competition to get online.

“I think I’ll go down to the library and get on a computer there,” he announced.

“Okay,” his dad acknowledged. “I’ll probably be out when you get back, but there should be something to eat in the fridge.”

“Great,” said Max. “See you later.”

Max had to wait patiently before he could ride his bike across the busy intersection where the library was located. When the lights changed, Max hurried across the road and headed toward the library’s front entrance, securing his bike in the rack. Once inside, he immediately saw that only one of the computers was unoccupied. Max went over and sat down, next to an old man with a gray goatee and wearing a blue baseball cap. Max then quickly keyed in his library card number and logged on to the Internet.

Max wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, except that he wanted to learn more about the Dexter family, so he Googled “Jonathan Dexter”. He’d been a very important politician, so there were numerous sites containing information about him and his family. Throughout his career, Jonathan Dexter had worked in several different government agencies, mainly concerned with science and research and almost all connected to the military. One website had a collection of photographs of Dexter with a group of high ranking army officers, plus men and women wearing white lab coats taken at some kind of unnamed scientific facility.

As Max’s dad had explained earlier, Dexter had once been considered as a possible presidential candidate. He’d been a high flyer and had been respected on both sides of the political divide, even by his fiercest opponents. However, although Dexter had seemed to be ready to resume his career following a brief pause after his son’s disappearance, he unexpectedly didn’t stand for reelection and announced his retirement from politics. He later emerged as a champion of several charities and groups dedicated to finding missing children, until his death.

Clicking on another link, Max read Jonathan Dexter’s obituary. He’d died as the result of a fire at his home and while there was only a brief mention of Dexter’s wife, there were several references to his son. Max eagerly

moved on to the web pages related to the disappearance of David Dexter.

At the time, David’s parents were featured in several TV appeals concerning the whereabouts of their son. Jonathan Dexter’s status in the public eye had kept the case active and in the newspapers for months, but eventually the search was called off. David had been academically brilliant, from one of the city’s most prominent families, and appeared to have a great future. He’d been fourteen when he disappeared. The picture of him had been taken at some kind of musical event.

David was never found and was widely presumed to be dead. Then a few years later, the discovery of David’s remains buried in a forest west of the city caused a sensation. The Dexter case was suddenly in the news again, just prior to Jonathan Dexter’s own death. However, what really caught Max’s attention was that the police had apparently received a tip from a local psychic regarding the location of the body.

Max was eager to do further research but the library was getting ready to close for the day. Disappointed, he left the library and headed for the bike rack.

MAX DIDN’T GO
straight home. There was a coffee shop nearby where he could get a cool drink resembling his favourite iced cappuccino. Max leaned his bike up against the railing outside the coffee shop and went inside. He ordered his drink and went outside to sit at one of the patio tables. Max took out his cellphone and opened one of his games. He was so engrossed that he scarcely noticed when a bespectacled old man with a gray goatee wearing a blue baseball cap came around the corner. The man wrapped his small black dog’s leash around the railing where Max had leaned his bike.

“Excuse me.”

“Huh?”

“Would you mind just watching my dog for a minute, while I grab a coffee?” asked the old man. “He’s very well behaved.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Max, seeing no harm in it.

A few minutes later, the old man returned with a coffee and a small cookie, much to the dog’s delight.

“Thanks a lot,” said the old man.

He sat down and tossed a piece of the cookie to his dog.

“I told you he’d be no trouble. Sure is a nice evening.”

Max paid no attention and remained focused on his cellphone.

“So why were you looking into the Dexter case?” said the old man.

“What?” Max asked, turning to stare at the stranger beside him.

“I was on the computer beside you at the library,” the man explained. “Why are you so interested in David Dexter?”

“I’ve got to do a summer project for school about old newspaper stories,” Max lied. “I found those articles by accident.”

“It was quite a story back then,” said the old man, taking a sip from his coffee, “before they just buried the case. Too many secrets, I guess.”

“Is that right?” said Max, disinterestedly, returning his attention to his game.

“John Carrington,” the old man said, handing Max a business card.

“A private investigator?” said Max skeptically, as he took the card and quickly scanned the words.

“Sort of,” replied Carrington. “I rarely take on any jobs now. Back then I was working with the city police, investigating David Dexter’s disappearance. That is, until I was taken off the case.”

“Oh yeah,” Max said, as he finished his drink.

He stood up from the table and put his cellphone in his pocket.

“Well, I’d better get moving,” said Max, handing Carrington the business card.

“Hey, keep the card, kid,” Carrington told him. “If you want to know any more about the Dexter case for that school project, I’m usually in Castlegate Park around noon. We sit on the benches over by the lake.”

“Okay,” said Max, stuffing the card into his pocket and grabbing his bike. “Bye.”

As Max pushed the bike around the corner of the coffee shop, a white car pulled

in to one of the parking spaces. Two men wearing dark suits got out of the car’s front seats. One was tall and willowy with thinning, pale blonde hair. The other was shorter and more heavily built, dark haired with a gray peppered goatee. A third man, with longer, blonde hair, was just getting out of the back seat when he got a call on his cell phone.

“What do you want anyway?” asked the man with the goatee.

“Americano, large, room for cream,” replied the third man as he leaned on the car’s open back door. “I have to take this call from the station. I’ll see you guys in a minute.”

The first two men brushed past Max and went into the coffee shop’s side entrance. Max was about to get on his bike and ride away when he noticed a boy outside the bank on the far side of the parking lot. It looked like the same boy Max had seen at the bus stop when he and Jeff had been walking home from the cemetery. Dressed in a black tee shirt and jeans, with thick dark hair, the boy just stood there, looking over at Max. The boy then started to walk across the parking lot toward him, but Max was startled when his bike clattered to the ground. The man who’d been in the back seat of the white car had dropped his cell phone as he and Max had collided.

“Hey, watch where you’re going,” he snarled, as he picked up his phone from the sidewalk and dusted it off. “Damn, I’ve lost the call.”

“Sorry,” said Max.

“Yeah, you should be,” said the man, angrily, but then his expression changed and he looked at Max curiously. “Do I know you?”

Max noticed that the man’s eyes were a very pale, piercing blue.

“Don’t think so,” said Max, although for a fleeting moment he thought the man looked oddly familiar somehow.

“Okay, well like I said, just watch it, kid.”

The man hurried to join his colleagues inside the coffee shop. Glancing around the parking lot, Max saw no sign of the boy in the black tee shirt. He climbed onto his bike and rode away.

It was almost nine when Max got home. He fastened the bike to the pipe near the gas meter and went inside the condo. His dad was still out and hadn’t given Max any indication of when he might be back. Max checked in the fridge, where he found his dad had left some of the stew from the previous evening for him. Max took the bowl out of the fridge, put it in the microwave, and set the timer. While he was waiting, he turned on the TV. Despite the fact that they could access over a hundred channels, there really wasn’t much to choose from.

When the microwave had finished, he turned off the TV and went to eat his stew in the kitchen. While he was eating, Max thought about the old man he’d met at the coffee shop. Could he really have worked on the Dexter case and was he really a private detective? He’d produced a business card, but Max was well aware that Carrington could easily have had those printed just about anywhere.

Still, it was all quite intriguing and the old man seemed safe enough. Max was interested in finding out more about David Dexter. He saw no harm in taking Carrington up on his invitation to meet at the park the next day. Max finished his stew and put his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. He contemplated watching some TV after all, but could hardly keep his eyes open. It was only just before ten o’clock and Max had no idea why he was so tired. What’s more, his headache appeared to be coming back. Figuring that an early night may do him some good, Max went upstairs and was asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.

MAX DIDN’T WAKE
up until eleven o’clock the next morning. He was still a little groggy as he clambered out of bed, but took a quick shower and went downstairs. A glance outside told Max that the truck was missing. His dad wasn’t around, but he did sometimes go out to buy renovation supplies.

Max’s headache had gone and he hadn’t had any dreams—or at least none that he could remember. Yet he still vividly recalled the images that had flashed across his mind at the cemetery, plus the terrifying vision of the man with the needle.

All of this had started after he’d touched the gravestone. Max had no idea what the connection was, but he figured he’d found out as much as he could from websites. Carrington did seem to know a lot about the Dexter family, so Max set off for Castlegate Park.

When the bus arrived, Max climbed the steps and paid his fare. The bus was empty and Max settled into a seat at the back. When the bus slowed down as it approached a set of traffic lights, Max stared out the window and yawned. Why was he so tired? As the bus pulled away again, Max dozed off.

The white lights twinkled on the huge tree, under which lay a large number of boxes and parcels in a variety of shapes and sizes. The woman with deep chestnut brown hair cascading over her shoulders smiled at him. She handed him a gift, wrapped in bright red paper, from under the tree.