Unchained Hearts (Baxter Family Saga) (7 page)

Michael made his way to Dr. Evigan’s office. Dr. Kim Evigan was both a neuroscientist and a psychiatrist, a known expert in brain chemistry and function. He was cited in several journals and even consulted law enforcement from time to time.

His office consisted of a couch, just like all the other offices.

“Come on in, Professor Kent.”

“Michael, please,” he said as he made his way to the desk and shook Dr. Evigan’s hand. The doctor was a little younger than Michael expected, especially since he was such a well-known scientist and researcher. He was average height with blond hair and dark eyes which sat behind thick glasses.

“Okay, Michael. Dr. Fen sent over your records because he thinks I may be able to help you. What’s the problem?”

“This is going to sound strange, but I feel like I’m living someone else’s life.” He chuckled.

“Okay,” he said, his face unmoved. “Tell me why you characterize yourself that way.”

“Well, I’ve been having these intense dreams lately where I’m doing things with other people. I’m dreaming about being with another woman, loving her...but it’s hazy. I don’t see faces, I see fuzzy images. The voices are draggy, like what happens when you slow down a tape recorded voice.”

“So when you have these dreams, how real are they?”

“So real. I can feel these people. I can touch this woman. I even know what she smells like.”

“Have you taken any sleeping aids? Herbal or prescribed?”

Michael shook his head.

Dr. Evigan narrowed his eyes and grabbed his pad. “I’m going to set an appointment for you to go to the diagnostic center. I want to rule out any kind of chemicals, or toxins first before we start.”

“I don’t do drugs, if that’s what you mean.” Michael defended.

Dr. Evigan held up his hand. “I’m sure you don’t,” he said confidently. “But you could be having a reaction to some over the counter medication or you could have been bitten by something. It’s really standard procedure for me to rule out all of those things first before we go forward.”

The doctor checked his calendar. “I did have a slot open up today.”

“Okay, I guess.”

The doctor grabbed a notepad and jotted down the address. “It’s close to the campus so you can even walk.”

Michael nodded. 

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Evigan said, trying to reassure his nervous patient. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Oftentimes, people are stressed and that can wreak havoc on the mind and body.”

Michael looked at the doctor and smiled, but he didn’t mean it. After describing what he saw, felt, and heard, he was even more convinced something was really wrong.

***

Michael walked over to the diagnostic center where they took a sample of hair, blood, saliva, and urine. Dr. Evigan had put a rush on the results which meant they’d be ready in about four weeks versus the usual three months. He waited, and every time the phone rang, he practically sprinted to it. Michael told Glynda he was expecting a call about some grant applications. She accepted his response, but did ask questions. He was able to field them and was surprised at how adept a liar he could be. 

The tests came back in three weeks and Dr. Evigan called him to the office.

They sat in silence as the doctor studied the results. Michael had no idea what those looks meant or how long he would be. After about five minutes, he looked up at Michael. “Have you ever heard of something called Devil’s Breath?”

Michael shook his head.

“It’s a drug called scopolamine and it comes from a tree in Colombia by the same name, Devil’s Breath. The drug is used to induce amnesia. It’s a pretty dangerous plant considering we know very little about it, but it looks like you’ve been dosed with a special cocktail for at least six months.”

Michael sat up in shock. “So what you’re saying is that I’m being drugged regularly?”

“I’ve seen some cases of this drug. Typically, it’s blown in the face of a person and at that point, he or she can be asked to do anything. They can assist in their own victimization without any memory of it. Usually, it’s a one-off that people use for theft, but the person who’s dosing you has a special formula I’ve never seen which has been carefully administered at certain intervals. You won’t be rendered a puppet, but it looks like it’s designed to suppress not erase memories. It’s really an ingenious blend of herbs and pharmaceutical grade drugs.”

As Dr. Evigan marveled at the drug, Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Someone was trying to make him forget…something.

“The brain is a funny thing, though,” Dr. Evigan added. “The more you try to suppress it, the harder it fights to remember through dreams or feelings of déjà vu.”

“Is this permanent? Will I remember?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know. We know very little about this, but the fact that you have to be dosed on a regular basis tells me the memories are there and can be returned, if you stop taking the drug.”

“How am I going to know where, when, who...?”

“This is where law enforcement comes in. The minute I got the prelim report, I put in a call to a contact of mine at the Bureau. He should be here in about fifteen minutes and you can talk to him.”

Michael got up and walked around...he felt so many things all at once that he was numb. Fear, rage, confusion, anger, betrayal, uncertainty...was his life his, or was it borrowed like a stolen credit card? He tried to remember who he was before. Four years was all he had, and before that—nothing.

“I can’t breathe. I need some air.”

“Michael…”

He started laughing. “You know, I don’t even know if that’s my real name. Michael Kent...I don’t remember dating my wife, or who I dated before her. I don’t remember my father. My mother says he died years ago...” He laughed even harder. “Is she even my mother?”

“Who the FUCK am I? Where is my life?”

He sat with his head in his hands until there was a knock on the door. Dr. Evigan went to see who it was and upon realizing it was the agent, he opened the door and greeted him. He was a young black man in a gray suit and light yellow shirt. While Michael got himself together, Dr. Evigan filled the agent in on the test results. 

“Mr. Kent,” the man in the suit said as he sat in the chair next to Michael. “I’m Agent Regan.”

Michael barely said a word, but nodded to Agent Regan. “Based on what Dr. Evigan told me, your exposure to this drug is pretty extensive. But the good news is, your flashes may be the key to helping us figure out your story.”

Michael raised his eyes to meet those of the young agent.

“We’re going to need your permission to search your home, but we’ve got to ask that you don’t tell anyone what you know or why we’re there.”

“How the hell am I going to pull that off? My wife, my kids…” Michael was furious. His wife? His kids?

Agent Regan held up his hand. “I know what we’re asking is hard, but the fact that you’re being drugged leads us to the possibility that whoever is doing it, is someone close to you. We don’t want to tip our hand. Now, tell me what you remember.”

Michael told them everything he could, including pieces of names and flashes of smells. But he was still trying to absorb it all.

He couldn’t go home like this. He couldn’t face them or anyone in the state he was in. He planned to stay in the office tonight, but he couldn’t. Brandon, his eldest, would be worried and the twins, Jasmine and Cameron, were still too young to understand. 

“Mr. Kent. You say your mother comes from Florida every so often to visit.”

“Yeah, she comes around every two or three months.”

Dr. Evigan looked at the report again. “According to this, you are getting a dose every ten weeks, which is about five times a year.”

Michael held up his hand. “You think my own mother is poisoning me?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions until we have all the facts,” Agent Regan said. “Right now it’s just puzzle pieces. I’ll get the paperwork for you to sign regarding the search. Do you have some place to stay tonight?”

“He can stay here.” Dr. Evigan chimed in. “I can stay with him as I have work to do and was planning to pull an all-nighter anyway. I can keep him company. “

“One more thing, Mr. Kent. What’s your wife’s name?”

“Glynda...you don’t think—”

Agent Regan held up his hands. “Again, we need to do our due diligence here.”

“We’ll be here, Agent Regan,” Dr. Evigan said. “Keep us posted.”

Michael buried his head in his hands. Whoever he is or was, he was a man forever altered in a way from which he might never fully recover. 

***

The agents arrived early, before seven o’clock. Agent Regan knocked and waited. Glynda opened the door and without so much as a good morning, was immediately presented with a piece of paper.

“I am Agent Mitch Regan with the FBI. We have a warrant to search the premises and the surrounding area.”

Agent Regan gently pushed through the door as Glynda looked over the sheet. It had a lot of legalese, but it looked official and so did they. Glynda’s mouth went dry as the Agent and his squad pulled the house apart. The kids were crying and Glynda was more than upset.

“Is there something I can help you find?” she asked and got no response. Michael didn’t come home last night and she thought he was still at his office. She called his office number repeatedly, but the phone just rang with no answer.
Where the hell was he?
she thought.  She slammed the receiver down in the cradle and tried to quell the sickening feeling that things were falling apart. And from this there would be no recovery.

***

The next day, Agent Regan showed up and the stories he told Michael and Kim were beyond anything either could have ever imagined.  

They sat down at the round table in Kim’s office. “We took the house apart and found a vial with residue of an unknown origin under the kitchen sink. It was actually in a black pouch taped to the side. If one of our agents hadn’t brushed against it, we probably would have missed it. It was pretty well hidden.” Agent Regan showed them pictures of the vials. “We’re sending them away to be tested, but we’re relatively certain it’s related to the scopolamine drug Dr. Evigan mentioned.”

“We also pulled these.” He pulled Michael’s and Glynda’s IDs and documentation. “The wedding license has the name Newton Cassius Baxter as the groom and then Glynda Hall as the bride.”

“Newton Cassius Baxter?” Michael said, looking at the agent and then at Kim. “After being confronted with the evidence, Glynda confirmed that is your real name.”

“So, she knew?” Michael asked. “She’s been drugging me?”

“We don’t think she was working alone. It seems that Newton Cassius Baxter was reported missing four years ago from the Port of Miami right before a cruise he was about to take with his girlfriend, Virgilia Avery, an architect. “

“Virgilia?” Michael said. That was the name he remembered from the paper.

Agent Regan continued, “Newton Baxter was heir apparent to Baxter Chemicals, a national conglomerate, run by Julian Baxter, Newton’s father. He has one brother Grayson Baxter, a therapist and Quinn Baxter, an aspiring actress.”

“Grayson…Gray?” Michael was familiar with the name, but it was so slippery that he couldn’t hold on to it. He put his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples.

“Agent Regan, can we take a break?” Kim asked, looking tentatively at Michael. He could only imagine the pressure he was feeling after hearing all of this.

Just as Agent Regan was about to stop, Michael turned to Dr. Evigan. “No,” he said. “Don’t. I’ve got to hear this. I want to hear this. All of it.”

“Okay,” Agent Regan said, pulling another card with an older woman’s picture. “This is an identification card for Amy Kent.”

“What? She’s not really my mother?” Michael quipped as he sat back in his chair.

“The name is an alias.” Agent Regan confirmed. “The techs said it was the best forgery they had had ever seen and it looked like the work of some South American forgers we’ve been tracking.”

“So who is she, really?” Michael asked.

“Her real name is Joan Baxter, wife of Julian Baxter, mother of Newton Baxter.”

Michael sank even further in his chair. “So what you’re saying is, she’s really my mother and she’s the one behind all of this?”

“The evidence suggests she is the lynchpin, yes. Glynda is small time and doesn’t have the brains or the connections to be the mastermind.”

“So, my own mother did this to me?” Michael looked from Kim to Agent Regan. “Why?”  

“I don’t know,” Agent Regan said, “but my colleagues in Miami are going to pick up Joan Baxter and hold her for questioning. We have her on fraud at least.”

Michael got up. This time he really believed like his head was about to explode. His own mother plotted this whole thing, drugged him, manipulated him for years…to what end? Who were these other people? His brother, his sister, his father? Were they party to this as well? He didn’t remember any of them. Virgilia, her name sounded so familiar, but he still couldn’t even remember her other than the picture.

Kim watched Michael try to absorb it all and empathized with his plight. He knew at this stage it was an exercise in futility, but being presented with this kind of news so hard and fast must have been like hitting his head against a brick wall, repeatedly. Michael was going to need some answers if he was going to make a go of the recovery. The question was, how was he going to get them? Agent Regan gathered his papers and pictures, while Michael stood with his back to them, staring at the wall.

“Thank you, Agent Regan,” Kim said as they got up and shook the agent’s hand. Before leaving, he looked at the man formerly known as Michael Kent. Poor bastard, he thought. I wouldn’t want to be him for all the tea in China. 

“Wait,” Michael spoke up. “What about my kids?”

“According to Ms. Hall, the older one, Brandon, is from another father. Glynda was hired by Mrs. Baxter while she was just a couple of months pregnant. She was desperate for money and your mother thought it would help ‘sell the story’ to you. As far as the twins, they are yours, she claims. Either way, Newton Baxter’s name is on the marriage and birth certificates, so technically, they’re his as they were born during the marriage.”

“Thanks, Mitch,” Kim said as the agent nodded, giving Michael Kent one last look before leaving.

Kim looked at Michael, or rather Newton Baxter. Getting the facts was one thing, but putting the pieces of Michael’s life back together was something else. Newton Baxter needed answers. The first question was, how would Michael Kent become Newton Baxter again?

****

Redemption

****

Michael Kent officially resigned from the college staff. It was a tough decision to explain to his students, but he told them he would miss them and teaching so much.

It took a couple of weeks, but the story was starting to make sense. It seemed Glynda Hall wasn’t her legal name after all. She had so many aliases, it was hard to find her real life and name in all the confusion. Because of that lie, the marriage wasn’t real and could easily be annulled. The kids, however, belonged to the father of record, which was Newton Baxter.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief. He loved those children and wanted them more than anything. They were the only real people in this whole situation.

At the station, the police brought in Glynda, Bonnie or whatever her name was, into the room. She looked down, never once meeting the gaze of the man she was paid to marry and lie to.

Michael’s rage swelled, but he swallowed it and spoke in measured tones. “I’m going to make this quick,” he gritted the words out through clenched teeth. “You’re going to jail for a long time. You will never see these children again.”

That got a reaction.

“No, you can’t do that! I’m their mother.”

“I can and I will. You may have given birth to them, but as far as they’re concerned, you’re dead.”

“Michael, please—”

“Don’t you ever call me that!” he yelled and saw her jump. Glynda looked at him with fear and shame.

“Please, can I at least see them?”