Mystery: The Coming Back: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery)

by James Kipling

  “We did, and it was a match, but there are ways to cheat on DNA tests, you know.” The detective shook his head.

  “But what would an imposter gain from being Stanley Douglass?” she asked, wondering what her role would be in the situation.

  “As far as I can see, nothing. The family is not rich and Stanley had very few things going on in his life,” Wilson added. “I have grown close to Mr. and Mrs. Douglass and I want to solve the case for them. If this man is their son, I will be the first to be happy for them; but as a policeman, I need to know what happened ten years ago and where he was during all those years.”

  “I understand.”

  “I called you because of your experience with autistic children and your psychology degree. I called the university you worked at and they suggested you as the perfect person for the job. Will you help me, Miss Chen, with this case?”

  “You managed to make it interesting to me. I will be happy to help you.” Lydia said, happy to have something to do with her free time.

  “Thank you, then I will hire you as a police assistant and we can discuss the details later. Now, did you have any questions about the case?”

  “Yes, I have a lot of questions, but in my experience the best way to deal with such cases is to meet with the patient.”

  “I can arrange for you to meet with the man in question in the afternoon. This case haunted me for too long and the fact that it is still unsolved is not helping.”

  Lydia Chen thanked him and walked out of the police headquarters with a promise to be called with the time and place of the meeting. Detective Wilson watched her leave and thought about her outspoken nature, which he found rather disturbing. That small woman was his only chance to redeem himself as an investigator and bring closure to those poor parents.

  Wilson had to find out what happened ten years ago and where the boy spent all that time. He needed to find out the truth for himself, for the family and for his career.

  Chapter 10

  Stanley Douglass woke up earlier that morning and made sure not to make any noise while cleaning up and making breakfast for himself. His father and mother were still sleeping when he left them a note and walked out of the house. The young man walked to the closest bus stop and took the first bus that came his way. He descended at the city center and entered the first bar that came in sight. He needed a drink and he needed it badly. A man walked past him, carrying a box of empty beer bottles, and fuck it all, but the guy was hard to miss. Stanley followed him into the dimly-lit back room carrying a box himself and there were too many things scattered around for his liking. The man made quick work of leaving the box and turning around to take the one Stanley was carrying.

  The low light was playing with the man’s hair and reflecting into the sweat gathered on the back of his neck. Stanley imagined licking that same spot with him bent over that same box he just placed in the middle of the room. He took an additional step on the right and left his box on the first available surface there. He was waiting for the man, the sexual tension between them already reaching its highest point. Stanley stepped forward and stretched his arm and let his fingers graze across the other’s man bare arm. Even that light touch was enough to relight the fire that was burning inside him for over a week now. The other man nodded at him silently and took a step closer. He liked the physical connection between them, something he already knew. There was something deep inside him that craved to be touched by that man, to be shown what he never dreamed of having before meeting him.

  Somewhere on the street a group of men passed, cheering at something one of them said and completely unaware of what was happening behind the walls of the bar’s storage room. The man looked at the direction of the noise and Stanley felt jealousy towards those guys who dared to steal even a moment of this from him.

  It was time for action, Stanley decided and grabbed his wrist with one hand, while placing the other on his hip. He made him walk backwards until he hit the small piece of wall, visible between two mountains of boxes. Stanley got him covered up with his body, shielded from any curious eyes and hands that might want to take the man from him.

  The man went willingly, never resisting Stanley’s movements or possessive behavior. Stanley’s fingers continued to clench into his hip, probably denting his skin and causing some pain. “Oh?” He rasped into Stanley’s neck, his whole body trembling with anticipation and want. His hand lifted and the man clasped Stanley’s elbow loosely, not for support or to push him away, as Stanley was holding strong enough for both of them, but simply to show him that he was into this as much as Stanley was.

  Stanley shook his head to clear it a little and with a guttural noise launched on the sweet, pink lips that were waiting for him, already slightly open and sleek with saliva. The man sighed with contentment and opened wider his mouth for Stanley’s searching tongue. The guy was a good kisser, but he had experience exclusively with girls and that gave Stanley the advantage to teach him how guys do it.

  He enjoyed the moment and used all his skills to kiss him breathless. And judging by the noises he was making, the man was delighted by his ministrations. In no time at all he was thrusting his crotch against Stanley’s thigh, searching relief. Stanley let go of his mouth and with a guttural noise, coming from deep inside his chest, started to suck on his exposed neck, hoping that it bruised well, so that everyone could see his mark on him.

  The other man didn’t protest, although Stanley knew he was hurting him by leaving behind bloody bruises made by his teeth and tongue. Stanley knew he should have stopped then. But the man started whining with a soft, almost there sound and Stanley thought there was no reason for him to stop now.

  Stanley could see him trying to say something, but either he was deaf or he wasn’t able to speak anymore. He took a step away from him, giving both of them time to breath and recover some brain cells. He closed his mouth, giving up any other attempt to speak and Stanley couldn’t take his eyes away from the wet bruise already blossoming on the side of his neck.

  Stanley lost track of his thoughts from the buzzing in his head as he again started to worry the man’s lip into a swollen piece of meat. He slipped his hands under Stanley’s shirt and touched the heated, bare skin under it. It was amazing how his clammy palms were clinging to Stanley’s skin and preventing him from moving too quickly and too far away from the spot where he wanted them.

  Stanley moved his hands away from his face and touched gently at the slight glimpse of skin on his back, where his T-shirt was riding up. He started his ascent upward slowly, but then gave up all pretenses and simply snatched the shirt up his torso and over his head. “Jesus!” the man panted and Stanley thought that he was once again able to hear. Stanley could see his eyes roll back in his head at the first touch of his fingers over his nipples.

  By that time, the was already losing it, his loud panting audible in the empty storage room and all Stanley wanted was to flip him against the wall and simply take him rough and hard. He was urging him to do just so, by repeating again and again: “Come on, come on…”, grabbing every part of Stanley he could reach, with just as bruising and possessive fingers as his own.

  Stanley had to push away from him again, if he wanted to stay sane and watched as the other man leaned against the wall, unsuccessfully trying to look cool. It was way too much for Stanley …

  When everything was over, the man was the first to pull away and look shyly into Stanley eyes, asking for reassurance that all was okay. “You were amazing.” Stanley spoke in his ear and claimed for a last time his lips, kissing him gently and nicely for a long minute. When they parted, the man looked around himself searching for his clothes and finding them on the box.

  They dressed slowly, still under the influence of the afterglow of the amazing sex they had just had. Stanley helped the man to close the zipper of his pants, while he was very helpful with the buttons of Stanley’s shirt. With a last slap on his ass Stanley give him another kiss and tugged him towards the exit,
hopping already for a repeat, but too scared to ask right away.

  The whole sex things sounded with every passing moment more and more ridiculous to him, but, on the other hand, it was the reason why he had come here. Stanley looked into the other man's eyes and saw them still dazed and full of need. He was giving him the same vibe Stanley felt before their first kiss and with that made him realize that they would be okay, no matter what.

  After that, Stanley took the bus back home, looking relaxed and at ease with himself. At home, his parents were waiting for him, worried and ready to call the police.’

  “Stanley,” his mother asked, as soon as he stepped inside the house. “Where have you been?”

  “I needed some time alone, Mom,” he answered her and climbed the stairs to his room.

  Chapter 11

  Detective Wilson went to take Lydia from her new house around four in the afternoon, after arranging everything for her first meeting with Stanley Douglass and his family. They arrived at the house after only fifteen minutes and were greeted by Mr. Douglass, who welcomed them inside politely, but unable to hide the fact that he was worried about something.

  “Is everything okay, Charlie?” Wilson asked the other man, once the introductions were out of the way. “You look as if something is worrying you?”

  “It is nothing, just…” The man stuttered. “This morning Stanley left the house without telling us. He returned hours later, acting as if it was nothing. My son never did things like this one before. I thought that he had left us again.”

  “I am sorry to hear that, Charlie, but he had been his own man for ten years now. It is natural for him to want to spend some time alone.” Wilson tried to reassure him.

  “I asked him, if he has any friends, but Stanley just answered that there is no one he wants to see again. What am I to think about him?”

  “People change with every new experience in their lives and ten years are a long time, even for a boy like Stanley.” Lydia joined the conversation. “I have monitored the changes in character in autistic children, and I have to tell you that those children change even more than the others. Every person is different, but we all are prone to adapt to the new situations in our lives. So, don’t worry, Mr. Douglass, it is completely natural for a young man, like your son to change after ten years.”

  “But, is it natural for him to like things he hated for almost twenty years of his life and to hate things, he had always loved?” Charley insisted again.

  “It is different for every person, Mr. Douglass,” Lydia reassured him. “Your son had disappeared without a trace ten years ago and now he remembers nothing about what happened then, right?”

  “Yes,” the father confirmed.

  “Maybe, the best way to understand the changes in your son’s behavior is to help him remember the past. Once he comes to terms with his past, Stanley would be able to explain everything else.” Lydia said in her professional tone of voice. “This type of selective amnesia is not unusual in people who have suffered a trauma.”

  Before they could continue their conversation, Stanley Douglass came into the room, followed by his mother. Detective Wilson did the introductions and Stanley sat down on the sofa, near his mother.

  “I don’t understand,” he said, looking confused. “I feel fine. Why do I need a doctor?”

  “Miss Chen is not a regular doctor, Stanley,” the detective explained. “She is here to help you remember what happened to you, so that we can close your case.”

  “But, I am back and I am well!?” Stanley pointed out again.

  “I can see that you understand very well the situation, Stanley. Can I call you Stanley?” Lydia asked.

  “Yes, but…”

  “My name is Lydia and I will do nothing that might make you uncomfortable,” she continued. “All I want is to help you with this new situation, so that the transition could be good for you and your parents. I am sure you understand that both you and your parents need time and help to come to terms with the past and the present.”

  “Yes…” the young man answered and then fell silent.

  “All right then, can you tell me your oldest memory? We will be working at a slow pace, and today we will just get to know each other, so don’t worry if you feel confused.”

  Stanley looked at his mother and sighed, when he saw her encouraging smile. “I remember graduating from high school and celebrating with my family and friends. Then everything is dark, I have no idea what happened to me, until a few weeks ago, when I remembered about my family and came here.”

  “What did you do during those last years?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where were you, when you remembered about your family?” Lydia continued to insist, while watching the Stanley’s reaction.

  “I was in a side street in New Jersey,” Stanley repeated for the hundredth time. “I had a bag with me and no ID or other documents. I have no idea what I was doing there, all I knew was that I was Stanley Douglass from Savannah. I took the first train here and easily found my home.”

  “What about friends or a job? It’s been ten years – there is no way you were living on the street all that time.”

  “I know, but I have no other answer for you…”

  “Your parents say that you are acting very withdrawn and unusual,” Lydia said carefully.

  Stanley stood up and looked a few times from his mother to his father and back again. The young man seemed hurt and Lydia thought that she might have made a mistake. Finally, he looked at her and walked out of the room without another word.

  “That did not go well,” Vivian Douglass pointed out with a sigh.

  “Is this a natural reaction for him? Did Stanley react the same before, when talking to a psychiatrist?” Lydia inquired.

  “No, he was always kind and ready to answer all questions,” Charlie answered. “He was best friend with all his doctors and teachers, I have never seen him get up and leave the room without excusing himself.”

  Shortly after that, Detective Wilson and Lydia Chen left the Douglass house, promising to do their best to help the family.

  “Why did you ask me to help?” Lydia asked the detective, when they were alone in the car.

  “The family asked me for help and I knew that I needed an expert, if I wanted to find the truth. I want to help Stanley to ease himself back into his family lives, as slowly and painlessly as I can. Charlie Douglass was the one, who did the research and found the information about your experimental treatment methods.”

  “And after all that trouble of tracking me, Stanley Douglass responds negatively to me.” The woman said with regret.

  Chapter 12

  Ten years ago…

  The young detective, David Wilson was called to the Douglass house in Savannah by Mr. Charlie Douglass to investigate the disappearance of his autistic son – Stanley Douglass. The detective made sure to go there as fast as possible, because of the urgency he detected in the voice of Mr. Douglass.

  He arrived late into the evening and asked immediately for an explanation about the case. The father, Mr. Douglass, was very glad to see him and invited him to the living room explain everything.

  “You see, Detective,” he started. “Stanley is only twenty two years old and very fragile, when he got missing two days ago, I immediately informed the police, but they said that it was too soon. As you can see, after two days, my son is still missing. At the moment all I can think about is that something very bad happened to my son.”

  “Okay,” the policeman interrupted him. “Tell me about your son, please.”

  “Stanley, right...” Mr. Douglass continued. “My son was diagnosed with autism when he was only five years old. But, he was a brave little boy and managed to finish school, make friends and had a very normal life. He was very happy living here, until last night when Stanley went to see his friend after lunch and never came back home.”

  “What about his friend? Did he say something?”

  “No, T
imothy Sands said that they spent the afternoon together and then Stanley climbed into the car and drove home. I asked him hundreds of questions, but Tim has nothing else to say.”

  “Did you call his other friends?” Detective Wilson asked.

  “My wife called everyone,” the other man clarified. “And I went everywhere, looking for my son or his car. I must have driven the road hundreds of times, but I saw no sign of my son.”

  “And Stanley hasn’t been seen by anyone after that?”

  “No, we asked everyone,” Mr. Douglass shook his head. “No one seems to know anything and we are going mad with worry.”

  “Okay, then,” the detective stood up. “I would like to see his room and speak to your wife and to Stanley’s friend.”

  Mr. Douglass opened the door for the detective and led the way up the stairs and to the second floor of the house. The place was a beautiful one managing to keep the family atmosphere about it. The house was situated away from the main streets, near some virgin forest, where the local people liked to spend time.

  When they arrived at the door of Stanley’s room, Mr. Douglass opened it and let the detective inside. They found Mrs. Douglass sitting on the bed and praying for the safe return of her son.

  “Thank you for coming detective,” she said after the introductions. “Stanley has been missing for only a few days, but there is something very strange about his disappearance.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” Wilson agreed with her. “Can you tell me what happen?”

  “I don’t know much.” Mrs. Douglass started. “We are a happy family. Stanley never showed signs of wanting to leave our house. He always said that he is happy to live here. My husband knows how to take care of him and Stanley had been doing very well at school and everywhere.”

  Wilson could see how worried the woman was, but he was grateful for her presence of mind and the ability to present the events as clearly as possible.

  “He never returned home after going to see his friend. What is more,” she continued. “This is the first time, Stanley stays away from home alone, without one of us accompanying him.”