When One Door Opens (26 page)

Scanning the lobby, Dabb asked Caleb, “Did you come here by yourself?”

“Yes. I took a cab.”

Dabb studied Caleb’s face for a moment before tilting his head toward Carlos. “Was he behaving himself?”

Carlos gave Dabb a cocky grin, but his shoulders hunched just a bit. “Was only being friendly, Big D.”

Drawing Dabb’s attention back to him, Caleb said, “I’m sorry I didn’t think to call first. I can come back later.”

Dabb shook off the offer and ushered Caleb toward the waiting elevator. Leaning against the wall, Dabb demonstrated his tenaciousness. “You want to tell me what Carlos said to get you redder than a lobster?”

“He said a lot of your parolees are gay.”

“And no doubt me being gay was the reason they were assigned to me.”

Caleb nodded, embarrassed all over again.

“That’s not the official reason.” The tone of Dabb’s voice made it clear that the reverse was true.

“If it’s any consolation, Carlos would rather have you for a PO.”

Dabb’s lips twitched, but he didn’t comment.

The elevator arrived at the third floor and they exited the car. At the opposite end of the hallway, an emaciated man with straggly brown hair looked to be arguing with an older man with a thick, black mustache and a fresh-faced police officer with curly brown hair.

The older man—Caleb guessed he was a PO—said, “You need to calm down, Pauley.”

“The test is wrong, man. I’m clean. Clean as a fucking whistle.”

The officer rolled his eyes and put a hand on the ex-con’s shoulder. The touch seemed to ignite the growing tension. Pauley made an inarticulate noise and shoved the officer’s hand off him. When his PO grabbed his arm, Pauley kicked him in the balls. The PO made a squeaky grunt and collapsed to his knees.

Putting a hand on Caleb’s chest, Dabb said, “Stay here,” before sprinting toward the men.

Pauley made it halfway down the hallway before the officer tackled him around the waist and drove him to the floor. Dabb quickly joined him, pushing Pauley’s shoulders down. It wasn’t until the cuffs clinked in place that Pauley began to cry. Great, big sobbing breaths that made his slight frame shake. He repeated “I’m sorry” over and over as the officer drew him to his feet and read him his rights.

Dabb returned and unlocked his door, dragging a stunned Caleb inside, away from Pauley’s desperate pleading.

Dabb seemed unfazed by the altercation in the hallway. Unable to resist, Caleb asked, “Will Pauley be sent back to prison?”

“One dirty drop likely wouldn’t have got him sent back, but assaulting his PO and resisting arrest all but guarantees it.”

Caleb puzzled over the phrasing—not wanting to ask—until he remembered Pauley’s claims he wasn’t using drugs. He blinked several times as he took notice of his surroundings. Even though Logan had described his PO’s unusual décor, Caleb wasn’t prepared for the explosion of color clogging the small space. Taking a seat in front of Dabb’s desk, he tried not to gawk, focusing instead on Logan’s PO.

Dabb leaned back on his chair and cranked up his stare like the dial on a stereo. His drawl slow and ragged, he asked, “What can I do for you, Caleb?” Flushing as if realizing how suggestive his tone sounded, he clarified, “Why are you here?”

When Caleb tried to speak, his voice wavered. “I need your help, but I don’t know how to convince you I’m telling the truth. And I’m afraid I’ll make things worse if you don’t believe me.”

“I can’t give you any guarantees, but I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

Caleb’s mind congested with doubts and fears.
I should leave now before Logan ends up on the ground with handcuffs tight around his wrists like Pauley.
Sleep hadn’t come easy last night, and when it had, it was filled with disturbing dreams. A litany of worst-case scenarios. But he didn’t see any other solution. Logan would never let Karen dictate his life, no matter how serious the threat. “About four years ago, I was working as a package handler at my uncle’s company. My shift was the Night Sort and Karen Foster was the supervisor.”

Dabb grunted. “A real peach, that one.”

And rotten to the core
, Caleb thought. He went on to explain the suspicious behavior he had observed in the bathroom. “The guy took off, but Karen stayed.” He swallowed hard, his heartbeat fluttering in his throat. “She told me just how bad it would be for me if I accused her of stealing and I ended up having a panic attack.”

“Did she admit to stealing?”

“Never.”

Dabb seemed pleased by this answer for some reason. “What happened afterward?”

“I stopped working there.”

Dabb squinted. “Why?”

“I couldn’t….” Caleb raked a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t handle the idea of going back there. I was having a hard enough time leaving my dorm room to go to my classes.”

Dabb looked thoughtful. “You’ve been dealing with the agoraphobia a long time.”

Caleb ducked his head. “Too long.”

“But you’re making progress, right?”

“More like two steps forward, one step back.”

“That’s still progress. It may take you longer, but you’ll still get to where you’re going.” Dabb didn’t push further. Instead he asked, “Are you afraid Foster will try to drag Logan into her theft ring? Four years is a long time to keep a scam like that going.”

“I hadn’t realized Karen still was… or maybe I didn’t let myself believe it. But last night she was waiting for me when I got home from the game. She wanted me to convince Logan to quit his job. She implied she could make life difficult for Logan if I didn’t.”

Dabb’s salt and pepper beard twitched. “I’ll bet she implied with the subtlety of a sledgehammer she could get Logan’s parole revoked if you didn’t go along with her.” He pulled off his glasses. “You took a big risk coming here. Have you told Harry about all this?”

Caleb stared at him blankly. “Harry? Do you mean my uncle?”

“Uh, right.” Cool, collected Dabb tore into a bag of M&M’s like a starving man. He shoved a handful into his mouth and chewed. After swallowing, he asked, “Have you talked about your suspicions with your uncle?”

A disturbing thought occurred to Caleb. “Do you know my uncle? Is that why he picked Logan? So you and he could report back to my uncle.”

“What? I had no idea Harry picked Logan until I called him. I tried to talk him out of it.”

“But you vouched for Logan and my uncle trusted your judgment. That’s why he was willing to hire an ex-con with a history of alcohol abuse and violence to work at the warehouse and to help me.”

“It wasn’t a setup, Caleb. We both know Logan well enough to know he’d never spy on you for Harry.”

“You must’ve known him a long time if he lets you call him Harry.” His mother called him Harry, but Caleb couldn’t remember anyone else being allowed to use the nickname. He shivered as he remembered the last time he had heard her use it. “His heart, Harry.” The hysteria in her voice had sliced through him, but it hadn’t been sharp enough to separate him from the panic. It wasn’t until his uncle cried out to him that the panic released its hold. With effort, Caleb pulled back and focused on what Dabb was saying.

“It wasn’t anything serious and it was nearly twenty years ago. We’ve stayed… friendly.”

Caleb tried to mask his surprise as he realized what Dabb had said. The look on Dabb’s face said he had failed miserably.
Dabb and Uncle Harrison?

Dabb closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me I didn’t just out your uncle.”

Caleb didn’t bother lying. His mind was too busy reeling.

Dabb swore under his breath. “Why wouldn’t he tell you? Or at least tell me he hadn’t told you. You’re gay and from what I’ve seen not the self-loathing type.” He added another layer of shock. “Your mother knew he was gay.”

Caleb answered him honestly. “I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. Maybe because he made me promise not to tell my mom I was gay.”

Dabb darted a glance at Caleb before looking away. “I’m sorry.”

Caleb shook off the apology. Dabb wasn’t to blame. “I need to talk to my uncle and Logan about Karen. But I won’t mention anything about you and him if you don’t want me to.”

Sounding concerned, Dabb asked, “Have you done that before?” At Caleb’s confused expression, he clarified. “Gone back to a place where you had a panic attack?”

Caleb fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt. “Not since they first started happening.”

“If you can face that, I figure I can handle old Harry being pissed at me.”

Caleb attempted a smile and rose to leave.

C
ALEB
knocked on his uncle’s office door. Directing his attention to his uncle’s secretary, he said, “Thanks for letting me see him, Sally.”

Sally was short and had her gray hair in a bowl cut so precise she was probably wearing one when it was cut. “Welcome, sweetheart,” she said, looking like she wanted to ruffle his hair, or worse, pinch his cheeks.

He escaped into the office when his uncle bade him to enter.

His uncle’s eyes widened. “Did you come here by yourself?”

The question of the day. Caleb didn’t blame him for being surprised. For nearly a month after he had panicked here, the mere mention of the warehouse sent his heart into overdrive.

“I’m sorry to just show up, but I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

Caleb had intended to question his uncle about Karen, but his brain had other ideas. “You and John Dabb…
know
each other,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm.

“How very indiscreet of John,” Uncle Harrison said primly, lacing his hands together on the mahogany desk.

Caleb bit his lip, his need to understand overpowering his mortification. “Mom’s been gone for years. Why keep it a secret from me?”

“I suppose, I lived the lie so long, it felt more real than the truth.”

Something told Caleb they still weren’t even in the same ballpark as the truth. “Do you wish you weren’t gay or that I wasn’t? Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

“There was no such thing as out and proud forty years ago, and there was still so much fear twenty years ago when I met John.”

The more his uncle prevaricated the clearer it became the man wanted the truth to stay buried. In the past, Caleb would have let the matter drop, but not anymore. It was time to get out a shovel and dig. “Wearing a rainbow T-shirt isn’t the same thing as telling your gay nephew you’re also gay.”

His uncle closed his eyes and slumped forward. In a voice barely audible he said, “I was afraid you would hate me for being a hypocrite. Your mother was worried but supportive when she found out about me in the eighties. I convinced myself she wouldn’t react the same with you, or she would think I’d turned you gay.”

Not understanding, Caleb said, “You might have convinced me not to tell my mom, but you never made me feel ashamed or that I needed to hide it from other people.”

“But you did hide. Literally instead of figuratively. You were isolating yourself long before you stopped going out. And it was my fault.”

Caleb shook his head. “You didn’t cause my panic attacks.”

He continued as if Caleb hadn’t spoken, the words pouring out in a rush like a broken dam. “You’ve always been so smart, but I had no idea how determined you could be. I convinced myself your startup business would fail and then I would be able to convince you to get professional help and enter a treatment facility. Instead, you were making a profit in six months without leaving the apartment. I knew you were punishing yourself for your mother’s death and I let you do it.”

Caleb swallowed hard. “Because you blamed me too.”

“No more than I blamed myself.”

Uncle Harrison opened a desk drawer and took out a Polaroid photograph. Rising, he walked around the desk and handed it to Caleb. It was a faded picture of his mother, looking flushed and sweaty. She smiled at a wrinkled infant in her arms.

“It was the happiest moment of her life. I saw her leave this world with the same love in her eyes. It shames me more than I can say that I let you spend one moment, let alone years, thinking you were to blame for her death.”

“It wasn’t your fault either. She’d been on the transplant list for nearly a year. We might have avoided it happening that night, but it would have happened soon. She wouldn’t have wanted either one of us to feel guilty.”

Uncle Harrison reached around Caleb in a brief, comforting hug. Caleb’s surprise made his attempt to reciprocate awkward at best. His uncle had never been particularly affectionate, but Caleb had always felt loved. “Even if fear was what motivated me, I don’t regret starting my business, because I really enjoy it and I’m proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish. You gave me that chance regardless of your reasons.”

“Thank you,” his uncle said, before pulling away with a single pat.

Caleb rubbed the bridge of his nose. He doubted his uncle would ever get over his guilt. The feeling was mutual, but they could focus on rebuilding their relationship. “I was also hoping to talk to you and Logan. Would it be possible to page him… discreetly?”

“What is this all about?”

“It’ll be easier to explain it once.”

Not looking pleased, his uncle took out his cell phone and typed out a message. After a few minutes of strained silence, Logan arrived, looking a little sweaty and very confused by the summons. Caleb had a nearly irresistible urge to attach himself to Logan’s broad chest like a barnacle.
Sheesh
. As if the situation wasn’t awkward enough.

His uncle directed them to sit in the black chairs in front of the desk, but Caleb felt the need to remain standing.

Caleb took a moment to gather his thoughts before he asked his uncle, “Did you tell Karen Foster about my panic attacks when I worked here?”

“I wanted her to know in case something… happened so no one would overreact.”

Caleb nodded. He’d assumed as much. “Karen was with me when I had the attack here. I walked into the bathroom and saw her with a package handler and it looked like they had shipping labels. As soon as the guy left, she started in on me.”

His uncle and Logan spoke simultaneously.