Dreamspinner Press Year Six Greatest Hits

by JD Ruskin

  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.

  “Did she threaten you?” Logan asked, his voice low and angry.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” his uncle asked.

  Choosing to answer the easier question, Caleb said, “Never directly. Only implied. But I started to fall apart and then she dragged in guys from the floor to gawk at me while I cowered in a corner.”

  Something dark and dangerous slithered across Logan’s eyes, and he started walking toward to the door, fists balled. Alarmed, Caleb scrambled over to him and took hold of his hand. He tried dragging Logan back toward his uncle’s desk, but it was like yanking on a concrete block. Unmovable. Feeling desperate, he did the only thing he could think of. Kissed him. On the chin, because Logan was seriously tall and it was the only spot Caleb could reach without some cooperation or a stepladder.

  Logan blinked several times and the tension left his body. He allowed Caleb to bring him back over to the desk. Caleb linked their hands together. Just in case.

  “The day the smoke bomb went off at my apartment complex. Was there anything special about that day? Any reason why someone would want you out of the building?”

  Uncle Harrison looked at his hands. “Nothing I can think of.”

  “You’re lying.” Caleb knew he needed to have this conversation in person, because his uncle’s voice was calm, but his eyes and hands telegraphed the deception. “Stop trying to protect me and tell me the truth.”

  His uncle blew out a slow breath. “A team from corporate, including my boss, Mr. Brady, was doing a walkthrough of the warehouse to review the changes we had made based on recommendations from a security firm we hired. We were shorthanded that morning to begin with. Mr. Percy, the operational manager, stalled on the way to work. When the team and Mr. Franklin came by, a floor supervisor was the only one to greet them.”

  “Karen Foster,” Caleb murmured, wondering if she had somehow been responsible for the car breaking down too. He wouldn’t put it past her.

  His uncle opened and closed his mouth several times. “Yes.”

  “And now they’re forcing you to retire.”

  His uncle shook his head. “I’m sixty-five years old. It was inevitable. They’re not having me retire because I left early to make sure my nephew hadn’t suffocated in his apartment.”

  Logan put his arm around Caleb’s shoulders and drew him close, kissing the top of his head.

  Uncle Harrison looked almost wistful for a moment before he continued. “My replacement had already been chosen. He was a part of the walkthrough.”

  Caleb paused, wanting to put all the pieces together. “What if I told you I don’t think it was a coincidence that the smoke bomb went off that day?”

  “Son of a bitch,” Logan muttered.

  “A couple of weeks before the smoke bomb, someone knocked on my door. By the time I looked through the peephole, they were gone, but they left a note behind. It was a printout of an article.” Caleb took a deep breath and felt Logan squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “It was about a woman who starved to death in her apartment because she was too afraid to leave. All total I got half a dozen different articles.”

  “Fucking Foster,” Logan spat. “Marco was right about her being behind the smoke bomb and the letters.”

  Caleb nodded. “I wasn’t sure at the time, but I am now. I went to see John Dabb this morning at his office.”

  “Dressed like that,” Logan squawked, picking a strange time to be style conscious. He muttered something that sounded disturbingly like “burn them all.”

  “I went there because Karen threatened to get Logan in trouble with Dabb if I didn’t convince him to quit his job.”

  “Why on earth would she do that?” his uncle asked weakly, as if the idea on top of everything else was too much to process. Caleb could relate.

  “I think she picked that day for a reason,” Caleb said. “She wanted the opportunity to make you look bad.”

  “This is ridiculous,” his uncle sputtered, bristling with indignation. “I’m to believe she terrorized you, conspired to get me fired, and Logan’s parole revoked in order to hide a petty theft ring. If the losses had been significant, the Loss Prevention Division would’ve flagged it years ago.”

  Logan chimed in. “My guess is the thefts before were li
ttle more than power trips. She gets off on manipulating guys into doing her bidding and pulling one over on her boss. One of Marco’s pals told me that she latches on to new guys to the warehouse and they don’t end up working here long after she’s gotten a hold of them. They quit or she gets them fired.”

  Picking up that train of thought, Caleb asked, “What’s changed?”

  “My friend, Michael Miller, works for the security firm that was hired. According to him, six months ago, she was arrested for public drunkenness at a casino and she is swamped with debt.” Logan snorted. “Probably even more so recently since someone called the construction company working on her house and told them she’s jerking them around. I heard they’re threatening to take her to court.”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes. They would be talking about Logan’s failure to share important information later. Logan had the decency to look chagrined.

  “So she’s hard up for cash and looking for a way to get her hands on a bigger score.” Caleb remembered one of Marco’s many rants about Karen. “Logan wouldn’t play ball and she’s probably got someone lined up to take his place. But how does my uncle fit into all this?”

  Logan turned toward Uncle Harrison. “Who’s replacing you?”

  His uncle blinked several times. “Martin Randal. It’s an internal promotion.”

  “He that slick-looking guy that toured the warehouse a few weeks back?”

  “Yes,” Uncle Harrison said, clearly confused by the change in conversation.

  Logan smiled smugly. “Foster is fucking him.”

  His uncle’s face flushed so red Caleb worried about his blood pressure. They both listened in stunned silence as Logan relayed what he had seen in the break room. Randal had emerged from the break room still tucking his shirttails in. Logan didn’t doubt for a moment that Foster was responsible for his disheveled state.

  His uncle rose abruptly. “I need to speak to my supervisor, Mr. Brady.” He hurried out of the office.

  “She was at the apartment when you called, right?” Logan asked. “How did you get her to leave?”

  Putting a hand to his chest dramatically, Caleb said, “C-can’t t-talk with you h-here.”

  Logan snorted.

  Caleb smiled sheepishly. “There’s at least one benefit for having a history of mental instability.”

  Logan hauled Caleb over for a bone-crushing hug. Logan’s warmth seemed to fill his whole being. It felt so damn good to be in his arms. Running a hand over the damp T-shirt covering Logan’s back, Caleb breathed in Logan’s sweet musk, thinking that it wasn’t fair that the man could look and smell this good. He knew there were things they should be talking about, but he didn’t want to move. For now, he just wanted this moment. His uncle’s return ten minutes later had them separating like a pair of teens caught necking on the porch.

  His uncle hovered in the doorway. “Martin is writing his resignation as we speak. And I’ve agreed to delay retirement for six months to aid in finding and training a suitable replacement.”

  “Do you think he knew what she was planning to do?” Logan asked.

  Sounding weary, his uncle said, “I don’t know. He admits to having an inappropriate relationship with a subordinate. He also said that he and Ms. Foster had talked about how they could rearrange personnel and schedules to make the warehouse more efficient, but he denies any knowledge of wrongdoing. I think he’s probably telling the truth. He seems more like a man of poor judgment than a criminal.”

  Logan whistled. “I’m surprised he confessed so easily.”

  “Martin’s ambitious. He’ll walk away with a letter of recommendation and no official company sanction. And when people ask him why he left the company, he can tell them I changed my mind about playing shuffleboard full time.”

  Logan snorted, finally understanding. Randal had sold out Foster before she could pin it on him.

  “What about Karen?” Caleb asked.

  “She’s left for the day and is not answering her cell phone. She’ll be given the same offer or fired for violating company policy if she refuses.”

  “That’s it?” Caleb’s voice sounded raspy even to himself, which wasn’t surprising because his throat had become a desert.

  “It’s the best solution for the company,” his uncle said. He was still committed to the people who were ready to toss him out the door after thirty-plus years of service. His uncle could pretend all he wanted, but Caleb still believed Karen had had a hand in the request to retire. The idea of Karen not only walking away from this unscathed but with a glowing recommendation made Caleb physically ill.

  “I need to go back upstairs and talk to Mr. Forrester about possible damage control if Ms. Foster chooses to sue civilly or file sexual harassment charges.”

  Caleb swallowed his first response and then changed his mind. “You mean hush money, right? Give her a wad of cash to go away and be someone else’s problem.”

  His uncle gave him a pained expression before leaving the office once again.

  Logan didn’t seem surprised by the turn of events, and for some reason that pissed Caleb off even more. Where the hell was his righteous indignation? “None of this bothers you? She threatened to get you sent back to prison.”

  Logan wrapped a strong arm around Caleb’s waist, dragging him close. “Baby, people like Foster don’t need nobody to take them down. They do the job all by themselves.”

  Caleb understood what Logan was trying to tell him, and it pained him to think of any similarities between Logan and Karen. It did nothing to suppress the growing fire in his belly.

  The buzzing sound of a phone set to vibrate filled the office. Logan pulled out his phone and answered it. “What’s up?”

  Caleb listened to the one-sided conversation with growing interest when Logan said, “You’re shitting me?”

  At Caleb’s silent inquiry, Logan mouthed the name “Dabb.”

  “Why? Oh, come on, man. You gotta tell me,” Logan said, sounding like an enormous five-year-old. His eyes locked with Caleb’s, and he said to Dabb, “I’ll tell him,” before ending the call.

  There could only be one reason for Dabb to call Logan. Karen must have gone straight to see him after her shift had ended. What if Dabb didn’t believe me? What if he believes her story? What if he’s on the way to arrest Logan right now?

  Caleb’s heart rate picked up, the panic gaining strength as if it had been waiting all day for an opportunity to strike. He hadn’t realized he was stepping backward until his back slapped against the wall, sending one of his uncle’s awards crashing to the floor. The office seemed to shrink around him as if someone were pushing in the walls, closing him in.

  “You don’t have to do it, baby.”

  “Do what?”

  “Are you back with me?”

  When Caleb nodded, he continued. “I’ve never seen you pull back like that in the middle of a full-on attack.”

  Caleb was embarrassed to admit the reason had something to do with the sight of Logan on his knees in front of him. “What did Dabb have to say?”

  “We can talk about it later,” Logan said, rising to his feet.

  Caleb let Logan hug him close for a few blissful moments, luxuriating in the warm smell of his body. Burying his face against Logan’s chest, he said, “Tell me what he said.”

  Logan muttered, “Stubborn little shit,” before he continued. “Foster’s been arrested for assaulting a police officer. She hauled off and slapped Dabb in front of a witness.”

  Stunned, Caleb asked, “Why did she do it?”

  “Bastard wouldn’t tell me what he said to her, but a breathalyzer test showed she was totally trashed.” Logan looked reluctant to continue, so Caleb gave him a “get on with it” look. “Dabb’s working with the theft division detectives to get a warrant to search her house. He needs you to come down to the station and make a statement about what happened last night and what you witnessed in the warehouse.”

  “She never admitted to anything and it’s
been too long. They can’t hope to prosecute her for what happened four years ago.”

  Sounding far too patient, Logan said, “They just need to convince a judge to let them search and hopefully they’ll find evidence of stolen goods.”

  Caleb was ashamed to admit he wouldn’t have cared if Karen continued to rip off the company if she hadn’t targeted Logan. Not very civic minded of him but true. Karen had made it personal, and he had no choice but to act. “Call him and let him know I’m on the way.”

  WHILE LOGAN had been in with Klass and Caleb, the flow of deliveries seemed to have quieted down somewhat, and from then on, the remaining hours dragged by. He worked out his shift hoping to be the guy to get sent home if the supervisor decided there were too many workers on the floor. Much as he needed the money, he wanted to get out of work.

  Exhaustion pulled at Logan as he stared at Caleb’s apartment building, but he couldn’t go home without checking on Caleb first. John Dabb had insisted on taking Caleb to the police station, and Logan had been grateful for it. He couldn’t stand the idea of Caleb sitting alone in an interview room and having to explain about his panic attacks to two detectives that would likely look at him like he was a freak. They wouldn’t understand how brave Caleb was. He trusted Dabb to make sure they treated Caleb right.

  After making his way upstairs, Logan rapped his knuckles against Caleb’s door. He heard the squeak of the floorboards under the thin carpet, but the door didn’t open. Placing his palm against the wood he said, “Caleb?” More squeaking. As he was digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he heard the scraping sound of the chain being unlocked. The door creaked open by itself, eerily similar to a horror movie. He half expected a monstrous cat to come flying at his head as he pushed the door open and entered.

  “What the…?” At first glance, the living room looked like it had been ransacked. Couch cushions tossed on the floor. Books pulled from the bookcases and dumped in piles on the cream carpet. DVDs were stacked precariously on the coffee table in a crooked column. There seemed to be stuff heaped on every available surface. Looking carefully, he noticed that nothing appeared to be broken or damaged. It likely wasn’t vandalism then since the TV wasn’t smashed and they hadn’t made off with the stereo. It looked more as if someone had been searching for something. He spotted Caleb standing in the kitchen. A wave of déjà vu moved through him at the sight. Caleb’s arms were wrapped around himself as if his grip was the only thing holding him together. After everything that had happened today, Logan wouldn’t be surprised for it to end in a panic attack. He’d witnessed three attacks since Caleb had been getting treatment, and had read the literature the therapist gave him. But none of that explained the state of the apartment.