Read Online Buried Dreams by Brendan DuBois - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brendan DuBois
Tags: USA
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you? I know you said it's personal but please, Lewis. The man was not family. He was just a friend. And no offense, but from what I can tell, he hasn't been a friend of yours for that long. Am I right?"
"Maybe."
"So. What's going on?"
I looked at Felix and recalled the times we had shared, the blood we had seen spilt during some unusual circumstances, and saw his quiet eyes, knew the usual evasiveness on my part wouldn't work. The sensation in my chest was still there, like heavy cement, slowing everything down.
"It's hard to explain."
"Try me," Felix said.
"He's just... well, he was older and we had the same interests... and... Look, he wanted to do something in his life, accomplish one goal. That's all. One goal. And when that had been reached, somebody killed him... Right after reaching his dream, he's dead... And... I just can't let that stand."
Felix leaned over the table. "Lewis."
"Yeah."
"Time for a personal question, so here we go. Something you've never talked about, something I've never asked, figuring you could use the privacy. But here we go. Your parents. Are they alive?"
The sudden memory made my eyes blink, and for a while I was a college student again, at Indiana University, wondering why the phone in my dorm was ringing at such an ungodly hour. "No."
"When did they die?"
"You mean, when were they killed?"
A nod. "All right, when were they killed?"
"When I was a senior in college. They were... um, it was wintertime, and they were taking a commuter flight to Indianapolis, to visit some family. It was raining. The wings on the aircraft didn't have the proper deicing equipment, and they were delayed getting in and were told to fly in big circles around the sky. Which they did, until the ice on the wings caused the plane to flip over and bore a hole into an Indiana cornfield. My parents and nineteen others."
"Jesus," Felix breathed.
"If you say so."
"You're an only child, correct?"
"Correct."
Felix nodded and he unfolded his arms and moved his hands some across the table. "Explains a lot, then."
"You don't seem to be the kind to psychoanalyze, Felix."
"No, but I am the kind to see things, and what I see is this guy being a father figure to you. Older gent, retired, taking an interest in you and your home and having things in common. Makes some sense, especially after he's been murdered."
I started to say something and he raised his hand and said, "Look, let's just leave it at that, okay? That's all I needed to know, and that's fine. No more pushing on my part. I now have my answer."
The waitress came by, put the check down, and Felix moved quicker than me and said, "And now I have the check. Let's get out of here."
I made a suggestion and Felix thought I had really gone around the bend, but I managed to say that it wouldn't be that bad, so we headed dawn to the Porter traffic circle, flipped around, and found ourselves back on Route I-A again, heading into Maine. Felix swore as he saw the flashing blue lights up ahead and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and said, "If somebody recognizes this car and we get hauled in, you can get your own damn lawyer to bail you out. Okay?"
"Sure," I said. "A small price to pay to satisfy my curiosity."
Felix moved us over into the left lane, to leave plenty of room for the little sideshow that was taking place at Seacoast Antiques. There were two Porter police cruisers parked there, with an unmarked vehicle that had flashing lights in the grill. What little traffic out here at this hour had slowed down some, taking in the show, and I saw two uniformed cops, talking to each other, while a plainclothes cop --- the detective, no doubt --- was working around the edge of the broken window. The chair was still in the paved area out front, on its side, as well as a shower of broken glass. The detective looked up and I quickly sank down into the seat.
"Problem?" Felix asked.
"Yeah. I know the detective."
Felix swore and said, "Did he see you?"
"I
"Maybe."
"So. What's going on?"
I looked at Felix and recalled the times we had shared, the blood we had seen spilt during some unusual circumstances, and saw his quiet eyes, knew the usual evasiveness on my part wouldn't work. The sensation in my chest was still there, like heavy cement, slowing everything down.
"It's hard to explain."
"Try me," Felix said.
"He's just... well, he was older and we had the same interests... and... Look, he wanted to do something in his life, accomplish one goal. That's all. One goal. And when that had been reached, somebody killed him... Right after reaching his dream, he's dead... And... I just can't let that stand."
Felix leaned over the table. "Lewis."
"Yeah."
"Time for a personal question, so here we go. Something you've never talked about, something I've never asked, figuring you could use the privacy. But here we go. Your parents. Are they alive?"
The sudden memory made my eyes blink, and for a while I was a college student again, at Indiana University, wondering why the phone in my dorm was ringing at such an ungodly hour. "No."
"When did they die?"
"You mean, when were they killed?"
A nod. "All right, when were they killed?"
"When I was a senior in college. They were... um, it was wintertime, and they were taking a commuter flight to Indianapolis, to visit some family. It was raining. The wings on the aircraft didn't have the proper deicing equipment, and they were delayed getting in and were told to fly in big circles around the sky. Which they did, until the ice on the wings caused the plane to flip over and bore a hole into an Indiana cornfield. My parents and nineteen others."
"Jesus," Felix breathed.
"If you say so."
"You're an only child, correct?"
"Correct."
Felix nodded and he unfolded his arms and moved his hands some across the table. "Explains a lot, then."
"You don't seem to be the kind to psychoanalyze, Felix."
"No, but I am the kind to see things, and what I see is this guy being a father figure to you. Older gent, retired, taking an interest in you and your home and having things in common. Makes some sense, especially after he's been murdered."
I started to say something and he raised his hand and said, "Look, let's just leave it at that, okay? That's all I needed to know, and that's fine. No more pushing on my part. I now have my answer."
The waitress came by, put the check down, and Felix moved quicker than me and said, "And now I have the check. Let's get out of here."
I made a suggestion and Felix thought I had really gone around the bend, but I managed to say that it wouldn't be that bad, so we headed dawn to the Porter traffic circle, flipped around, and found ourselves back on Route I-A again, heading into Maine. Felix swore as he saw the flashing blue lights up ahead and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and said, "If somebody recognizes this car and we get hauled in, you can get your own damn lawyer to bail you out. Okay?"
"Sure," I said. "A small price to pay to satisfy my curiosity."
Felix moved us over into the left lane, to leave plenty of room for the little sideshow that was taking place at Seacoast Antiques. There were two Porter police cruisers parked there, with an unmarked vehicle that had flashing lights in the grill. What little traffic out here at this hour had slowed down some, taking in the show, and I saw two uniformed cops, talking to each other, while a plainclothes cop --- the detective, no doubt --- was working around the edge of the broken window. The chair was still in the paved area out front, on its side, as well as a shower of broken glass. The detective looked up and I quickly sank down into the seat.
"Problem?" Felix asked.
"Yeah. I know the detective."
Felix swore and said, "Did he see you?"
"I
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