Monster In The Closet (The Baltimore Series Book 5)

by Karen Rose

  ‘It was my pleasure.’ She leaned over the bed rail to peek at the screen. ‘That guy was a charmer,’ she said, pointing to the photo of Dillon, dressed in his barn clothes, with his arm around Clay’s shoulders.

  Dillon had been his first visitor, stopping by long before visiting hours officially began.

  ‘He’s the groom.’

  ‘Oh, I know. We made the mistake of telling him that visiting hours hadn’t begun so he’d need to come back later. He told us that he couldn’t because it was his wedding day and that he had chores to do before he married the girl of his dreams. But that he had to see his friend first. I saw his bride when she dropped by later. They’re both very sweet. ‘

  Holly had come by in her wedding gown, just so Clay could see. ‘I was supposed to be one of the groomsmen. Holly brought me my boutonnière so that I could wear it when I watch the wedding on Skype. I’m going to give a speech at the reception if the technology cooperates.’

  ‘Ask one of us to help you with the boutonnière. We don’t want you stabbing yourself with the pin and needing more stitches.’

  He winced. ‘That would suck.’

  ‘Indeed it would. Oh.’ She tilted his phone to see it better. ‘What a handsome couple.’

  Clay paused on the photo Stevie had taken of Taylor and Ford on their second visit. The first time they’d stopped by had been that morning. Ford was bitching because Taylor wouldn’t stay out of the barn and Taylor was bitching back that she could at least clean tack from the wheelchair. They’d come alone, having left Frederick Dawson back at Maggie’s house, still sleeping off his cross-country trip from the day before.

  The second time they’d visited, they’d been in their wedding clothes. Ford wore a tux, because he too was a groomsman, and Taylor had sparkled in a glittery dress she’d borrowed from Daphne. ‘That’s my daughter,’ he said proudly.

  Who’d found him after he’d searched for her for so many years. He still couldn’t quite believe it. The daughter who’d saved his life and risked her own to rescue two little girls. His pride was very well-placed.

  ‘She’s stunning.’

  ‘She’s also a very good person.’

  ‘Then you have as much of a right to brag on your daughter as your father had on you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. He hadn’t had a lot to do with the person Taylor had grown up to be. That was all due to Frederick Dawson. Clay was just glad the man was willing to work with them so that he could have time with her too.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She straightened his sheets, chatting as she did so. ‘There’s quite an age difference between your two girls.’

  ‘Fourteen years,’ Clay agreed. ‘And my wife and I have another on the way.’ It gave him a thrill just to say the words out loud. And I get to be the daddy this time. How this kid turns out will be on me.

  Becky beamed. ‘Mazel tov! Now I have to get back to work. Ring if you need anything.’

  ‘I will.’ Clay relaxed back into the pillows, letting himself daydream about all the things he’d be for his child. All the things his own stepfather had been for him. Gratitude welled up within him, stinging his eyes and thickening his throat.

  A light knock on the door pulled him back before he melted into undignified tears. He had a second to school his features before opening his eyes to see Frederick Dawson standing in the doorway, holding a small paper sack in one hand and a shoebox in the other.

  ‘Bad time?’ Frederick asked.

  Clay motioned him in. ‘I’m kind of talked out, but you’re welcome to join me.’

  Frederick sat in the chair beside him and put the shoebox on the floor. The paper sack he continued to hold. He proceeded to say nothing at all. And that was okay. The two of them shared a comfortable silence until Clay’s curiosity got the better of him.

  ‘What’s in the sack?’

  Frederick pulled out a black bow tie. ‘Taylor sent this. It goes with your tux for the wedding.’ He chuckled. ‘She thought you could wear it with your hospital gown. Said it would make you look classier.’

  Clay huffed a tired chuckle of his own. ‘Little twerp,’ he said affectionately, reaching for the tie. He laid it on the table next to the boutonnière.

  ‘She always has been.’ Frederick fell silent again, then sighed. ‘I’ve meant to come and see you all day, but I’ve been putting it off. I was actually hoping you’d be asleep, or that the nurses would run me off for visiting out of hours.’

  Clay frowned. ‘Why? I thought we settled things last night.’

  Frederick’s laugh was bitter. ‘No. We didn’t. We made nice because Taylor was watching us with her big dark eyes that . . . are just like yours.’ He hung his head, his shoulders slumping. ‘We haven’t begun to settle anything, because my saying I’m sorry is just a drop in the ocean.’

  ‘I thought we agreed that this wasn’t your fault,’ Clay murmured.

  ‘Maybe it wasn’t. Or maybe I shouldn’t have listened to Donna when she told me the horror stories about her abusive ex. Maybe I should have done a little goddamn due diligence before I ripped my family away from Oakland, forced Taylor to change her identity, and moved to a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I shouldn’t have believed Donna at all.’ He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. ‘And maybe I just wanted to be the hero.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Clay said quietly, thinking about the terrible price the man had paid for his unquestioning acceptance of Taylor’s mother’s lies. Frederick had lost his oldest daughter. And Donna still hadn’t told the man the truth.

  How could you, Donna? How could you have been so cold? So utterly bereft of any conscience? Lacking in soul?

  Clay knew that he might never learn the answer to those questions. But he might be able to give this man some comfort. ‘As I recall, Donna could be quite persuasive. When she came on to me in high school, I believed her when she said it was over between her and her ex. I believed her when she said she was pregnant and that it was mine. Turns out those last two were the only honest things she did say. When she wanted to go back to her ex-boyfriend, she told me that she’d miscarried, and I believed that too. I gave her a divorce without a fight. Don’t you think I’ve second-guessed myself for that over the years?’

  ‘You were young.’

  Clay sighed. ‘I think we need to accept that Donna was a very good liar. She could pinpoint a weakness and exploit it. You wanted to be a hero. I was – quite honestly – very relieved when she wanted a divorce. I wasn’t even twenty years old. I didn’t want a wife, and given time and half a world’s distance, I’d already realized that I didn’t want her.’

  ‘You’re saying we both believed her because we wanted to.’

  ‘Exactly. You’re going to have to forgive yourself, Frederick. I hold no grudge against you. Do I wish you’d come to me and asked if I really was a fucking bastard? Well, yes. Duh,’ he said, and Frederick laughed sadly. ‘But I would have told you “no”, because nobody admits to shit like that. You still wouldn’t have believed me. I had very few friends then. Certainly not the network that I have now. My best references were my mom and stepdad. They believed me. But Donna’s parents believed her. So you would have had no real reason to believe the truth even if you had asked.’

  ‘I know you’re right. But forgiving myself is going to take some time, I think.’

  Clay shrugged. ‘I ain’t goin’ anywhere.’

  Frederick laughed again, then returned to being pensive. ‘There are so many things I wish I could do over, but – God forgive me – having Taylor with me all these years isn’t one of them. If I’d known the truth, if I’d known you were really a good man, I’d have still fought you for custody, even if her mother hadn’t been in the picture.’

  ‘After knowing her for three days, I wouldn’t blame you one iota. It would have been horr
ible for her, split between two coasts, so I probably would have moved to California. I didn’t have roots then. Not like I do now.’ And he was so grateful for each and every one of those roots. ‘Not like you do now, either.’

  Frederick shook his head. ‘I’m not so sure. Don’t mention this to Taylor, but I’ve been thinking of selling the ranch. My health isn’t what it used to be, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep up with the work. I’ve got several neighbors who’ve expressed their interest in my holdings. God knows, moving to civilization would be better for my youngest daughter. I met Holly and Dillon today and they told me about their community center and all the activities they do. The jobs they hold. Damn, Dillon even drives. Now, my Julie doesn’t have Down syndrome and her needs are different, but, man, what they have? That’s what I want for Julie. And my middle daughter . . . Daisy’s been ready to fly the coop for a long time. She only stayed to be Taylor’s shadow.’ His smile was melancholy. ‘She wants to go to Paris and paint. I want her to be happy. I want all my daughters to be happy.’ He met Clay’s eyes. ‘Including the daughter I’ve had on loan from you. What would you say if I relocated?’

  ‘You’d move?’ Clay asked, surprised. ‘Here?’ He hadn’t considered that.

  ‘Maybe. Why not? I’m not a poor man, and when I sell my land, I’ll make more than enough to buy a small house here. Maybe one that’s outfitted for my youngest.’ He tilted his head, wonder creeping across his face like a sunrise. ‘I have options. I haven’t had options since we went into hiding.’

  ‘It’s a big move, all the way across the country,’ Clay said cautiously. ‘You could get services for your youngest in any big city in California just as easily as here.’

  ‘Yes, but Taylor won’t be in California. She’ll be here.’ The man smiled again, and this time it wasn’t melancholy or bitter. It was bright and hopeful. ‘Why wouldn’t she be here? If we were to move, why not move her close to her other family?’ He made a worried face. ‘And the boy, too. I mean, I like Ford. He seems like a stand-up guy. But she’s my baby.’

  Clay laughed even though he understood. ‘He’s a good man, Frederick. You don’t have anything to worry about with Ford Elkhart. This thing of theirs may be nothing more than a summer romance, but if it’s more . . . well, I couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law.’

  ‘Then I guess I can’t either.’ Frederick picked up the shoebox and fidgeted with the lid. ‘I have a question. Maybe the answer will help me make sense of all of this. Of you.’

  ‘Then ask.’

  ‘Why are you being so understanding? Why aren’t you calling her Sienna? Why have you accepted all of this so easily? Why don’t you hate me?’

  ‘That’s four questions,’ Clay said mildly. ‘But I’ll answer as best I can. Easiest first. I did call her Sienna on Saturday, but it’s only a name. That it was the name her mother gave her without my input made it easier to let it go. Plus, in my mind, Sienna was that terrified little girl who screamed when she saw me standing outside her schoolyard. Taylor is the daughter who sought me out. I’m good with the name change.’

  ‘Okay,’ Frederick said slowly. ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘Good. As for the first and third questions, they’re really the same thing. I could be angry about the twenty-three years I lost, or I could treasure the time we have from today on. I’m picking the happier option. Angry, bitter people end up alone, and I was alone for too long.’

  Frederick nodded. ‘All right. I guess I can only hope I’d make the same choice were I in your shoes. And the last question?’

  ‘Why I don’t hate you?’ Clay closed his eyes. ‘I’ve been in law enforcement to some degree for all of my adult life. I know what victims look like. You are a victim, same as me. Maybe you should have looked harder for the truth, but you believed your wife. Husbands are supposed to be able to believe their wives. You were the best husband you knew how to be. You were also the very best father you could be, and now Taylor is a smart, capable woman with a beautiful heart. I don’t know that I could have raised her to become any better of a person. I can’t hate you. But I might start if you don’t put this issue to rest.’

  Frederick sighed, long and low. ‘It’s an extraordinary gift, this kind of forgiveness. I can only say thank you.’

  ‘I learned from a good man,’ Clay said simply. ‘My biological father was not a good man and my mother left him when I was only three. She worked hard to feed me, so hard she rarely went out. Rarely had fun. Then she met Tanner St James, and our lives changed. Tanner loved my mother. He loved me. I wasn’t a burden and I wasn’t an obligation. I wasn’t some other bastard’s kid. I was his son. He was the dad he didn’t have to be, just like you were for Taylor. Every good thing I’ve learned about being a man, about being a father, I learned from him. So if you need to thank someone, thank my dad.’

  Frederick’s swallow was audible. ‘I will,’ he whispered. He picked up the shoebox and handed it to Clay. ‘I can’t give you the years back, but I can give you these.’

  ‘These’ were photos. Dozens and dozens of photos, all of Taylor. Infant pictures, toddler. First day of kindergarten. Christmas pictures, birthdays. Each photo was neatly labeled on the back with the date and the occasion. His daughter’s life, right here in this box.

  Clay’s eyes teared up. ‘My God,’ he whispered. ‘Look at her. She’s beautiful.’

  ‘I sat down with Donna two months before she died,’ Frederick said quietly, ‘and we put all the pictures on the kitchen table. She identified each picture and I labeled the back. I didn’t want her to pass without me having a proper record of Taylor’s growing-up, especially since I didn’t know her when she was really small.’

  ‘This . . .’ This was what Clay had missed. Her first lost tooth, her gap-toothed smile. Riding a horse. Reading to her youngest sister.

  Donna had stolen his daughter’s childhood, but at least he had these pictures. And Frederick had brought them before he’d known that Clay hadn’t brainwashed her or guilted her into staying. The man had come planning to make amends, no matter what. ‘Thank you,’ Clay whispered, overcome. ‘Just . . . thank you.’

  He looked through the photos, drinking in each and every one until his phone started to chirp. Reluctantly he put them back in the shoebox. ‘That’s my alarm,’ he said, setting the laptop on his good thigh. ‘It’s wedding time.’ He signed in to Skype and only had to wait a minute for Alec’s call.

  Alec’s face appeared on his screen. ‘You there, Pops?’

  Clay growled at him. ‘You do not get to call me that.’

  Daphne’s face appeared next to Alec’s, and she was grinning. ‘Sugar, everybody’s calling you that. You’d better get used to it.’ She frowned a little, studying him. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘I am tired. I did just get shot yesterday, you know.’

  ‘We know,’ Alec said shortly. ‘We’re going to have a talk about protective body armor for your legs.’

  ‘But later,’ Daphne chimed in before Clay could object. ‘It’s time to get these kids hitched. Where’s your bow tie?’

  Clay held it up. ‘I can’t put it on myself. I’m too tired.’

  Alec smirked. ‘Told you so,’ he said to Daphne.

  Daphne rolled her eyes. ‘Spoilsport,’ she said.

  ‘Heck, if I’d known being shot could have gotten me out of wearing a tie . . .’ Alec said.

  ‘Forget it,’ Clay snapped. ‘No more of my kids get shot, okay?’

  Alec’s smirk turned to a smile that lit up his whole face. ‘Okay.’

  ‘I can help with the tie,’ Frederick said, taking it out of Clay’s hand and ignoring his glare.

  ‘I didn’t know you were there, Freddie,’ Daphne said.

  Frederick winced, and Clay guessed that ‘Freddie’ was not his favorite nickname. ‘We’ve been visiting.’ Frede
rick neatly fixed the tie around Clay’s throat. ‘There.’

  ‘Nice,’ Daphne crowed. ‘Thank you, Freddie.’

  Clay tapped the tie. ‘This I might not be able to forgive,’ he said sourly. He handed the boutonnière to Frederick. ‘Might as well go for the whole shooting match.’ And he rolled his eyes as his new partner in fatherhood pinned the flower to his hospital gown.

  ‘Holly will be happy to see you wearing it,’ Daphne said softly. ‘Bye for now. Gotta take our seats. If you want to see Taylor, she’s sitting behind the back row in her wheelchair.’

  Alec positioned his laptop behind the altar. ‘Hope this works. Bye, Pops.’

  Clay found he had to laugh. He muted the sound at his end and settled back to watch.

  ‘I know Holly is Ford’s step-aunt,’ Frederick said, ‘and that Dillon works in the barn, but why are they having a wedding on a Monday night?’

  Clay turned ‘step-aunt’ over in his mind and realized that Frederick had it right. He’d never thought about how everyone was related to everyone else. ‘Because Holly’s sister and brother-in-law are caterers with a bakery and Dillon’s folks run a diner. One’s doing desserts and the other’s doing dinner.’ He sighed. ‘It’ll be barbecue, and I’m missing it.’ He’d endured hospital meals before and would again, but the thought of seeing all that delicious food, even on the computer, made him grouchy. ‘Both businesses do most of their sales on the weekend and are closed on Monday. Holly’s sister probably could miss one day of sales, but Dillon’s folks aren’t wealthy. So . . . Monday.’

  Frederick blinked. ‘That makes sense, too.’

  ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘I am. I expected everything to be complicated. But it all seems to be working out.’