Closed Doors

by Nancy Radke

He wondered what Richard wanted to talk about. His brother had always been fair in his dealings with him, but if he planned to offer him a token position just because Ellen had asked him to....

  Richard met him at the front door and clasped both of Jared’s hands in his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was doing to you,” he explained, his voice low and roughened with concern. “I just didn’t think. I was worried we might lose the company after spending so long building it up.”

  “And?” Jared stared at him suspiciously. Had Rochelle heard what happened and refused to let her husband go back to work?

  “And I’ve had time to consider things; to realize you had as much or more to do with our company’s growth than I.” He paused, squeezing Jared’s hands harder before releasing them.

  “It’s all right,” Jared assured him, a little embarrassed by his brother’s apology.

  “No, it isn’t. It hurt me, and I lashed out. I felt disappointed—you’ve kept this a secret all these years.”

  “No one knew. I was pretty good at hiding it,” Jared admitted, surprised Richard was taking it so hard.

  “But I’m your older brother. I should have noticed. I could have helped.”

  “Well, I never told you, so we were both wrong.”

  “Come on in.” They walked inside Richard’s modern home, through the cool hallways and into his office. He stopped by his desk and faced his younger brother.

  “Once I thought this through, I realized how well you did in spite of everything. It takes more than being able to read to run a company. Your instincts were always right... when to expand and when to wait.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What I’m saying is; I need you back. Really need you.”

  “I want to come back,” Jared replied, hardly able to contain himself with joy.

  “I’ve counted on you all these years. Your sales record was always the best. Even when you couldn’t read. We’ll work things out.”

  “I can handle it, if you’re willing to let me.”

  “Yes, I think you can. Like you said, Ellen can read the important details to you. I don’t see that you need any more help than that.”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “Can I help you at all with learning to read?”

  “Thanks, but Ellen’s a professional tutor. She says I have to see an optometrist and get my eyes checked before she can do any more. By the way, that’s how we met, not on a balloon ride over the Sound.”

  “Ah ha. I kept wondering how she ever got you up in a balloon.”

  “It was all she could think of, on the spot. And now that you know, I won’t have to go up.”

  “You hang onto her. She’s quite a woman. Definitely in your corner.”

  “I plan to. Right now I need her address.”

  “In there.” Richard pointed at the stack of files on his desk, and Jared picked them up. By closing one eye, he could spot her name easily, and he pulled out the file, flipped it open and stared at the page.

  Ellen had taught him so much that the words made sense to him now. Donna had typed in the information and he memorized it.

  “You can read that?” Richard asked.

  “Yes. As I said, I’ve been learning.” He realized he still had one eye closed, and opened it. Immediately all the words jumbled themselves on the page.

  Maybe there was something physically wrong with his eyes. They tired easily, especially when he had to do any close work. And he often saw two of everything—the object and its shadow. That was the way an art teacher had described things, years ago, so he had never questioned his vision. Maybe others didn’t see the shadow all the time.

  Since Ellen had been teaching him, the words made sense. He could actually understand whole sentences as long as he kept one eye shut, to keep the words from skipping around on the page. A heady excitement rose within him. He could read!

  Richard shoved a stack of spreadsheets in front of him. “If you can, look at these. Since I’ve been home, I reviewed the accounts for the three and a half years Larry has been with us. I guess I can’t say anything more about you trusting him; he’s been skimming off the company for at least two years. And I didn’t spot it.”

  “How?”

  “Double-billing for items he might have been stealing for that boat of his. Inflating the time he spent on things. It doesn’t take many hours to start adding up. We’re lucky he got greedy; we might never have noticed, otherwise.”

  “Are we really lucky?”

  Richard smiled grimly. “We are if they catch him. He hasn’t had time to spend this last bit of money, I’m sure. And Ellen was right; he hasn’t cashed the three checks she sent out on Friday.”

  “Just as long as he doesn’t use our money to pay his lawyer. We might not get much back.”

  “If he cashes those last three checks, we’ll need a loan to keep afloat. Only you can keep us going, now more than ever. We’ll barely make payroll, as is.”

  The phone rang and Richard answered. “Yes. Uh huh. Ten tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” He hung up. “That was Ryan Duvall. He’s in computer security. I know it’s like locking the barn after the horse is stolen, but Duvall promised to go over our entire system and make it harder for outsiders and employees to steal from us.”

  “Do the men know?”

  “Only about Larry. Now that you’re learning to read, they need never know about you, unless you want to tell them. It’s no problem, either way.” He patted the spreadsheets. “Stay for awhile; see if you can spot any I’ve overlooked.”

  “I will, then you can show me how to find Ellen’s place on my map.”

  Her phone calls unanswered, Ellen left her apartment, her head low in despair. She had known it would happen. With his secret out, Jared had no more use for her.

  Driving slowly, she joined the parade of cars inching down Lake Washington Boulevard, past Houghton Park and through the town of Kirkland; the sidewalks busy with joggers and walkers— most of them young, some single, some in groups.

  Back and forth she drove, ignoring the law against cruising as her mind searched through the day’s events.

  How had her life collapsed so completely in such a short time? She had prepared herself for this moment, knowing that people stayed with her only while they needed her, but it still had been a shock.

  It seemed cruel for Richard to kick his brother out of the company. It was more her fault than Jared’s. She knew he couldn’t read, so should have gone over each bill with him before making out the checks. Instead, she had trusted Larry to assure her the amounts were correct.

  She worried over what to do; whether to try to see Jared or let him go his way. He had her calls on his answering machine; he would know she was trying to contact him.

  With her mind searching endlessly for answers, Ellen did not return to her place until after dark. She parked but stayed in the car, listening to the radio’s soft music, unsatisfied and confused with the power of her emotions.

  The restlessness still tore her apart, her desire for Jared running stronger than ever. Maybe she should have rented a movie to distract her.

  The gentle glow of the full moon transformed the hard practicality of day into a setting for romance, a time for lovers. Streetlights produced dancing patterns of light and dark. The air touched as soft as a sweetheart’s kiss; the scent of flowers lingered on a passing breeze.

  She loved Jared. He said he loved her. But his love did not appear to be strong enough to withstand what was happening. He would not share his problem and draw on her strength. Like a knight from another era, he refused to let anyone fight his battles. It left her helpless. There didn’t seem to be anything she could do.

  The music stopped and a commercial came on. Ellen turned the radio off and got out of her car, deciding to watch TV until tomorrow morning. She wouldn’t sleep.

  Bending to lock the door, she spotted a manila folder on the back seat. It looked like the one she had used to carry the mail to the Post Offi
ce Friday night. Had she mailed out those checks, or not?

  Yanking wide the door, she snatched up the folder and flipped it open. Eight envelopes, ready to mail, lay inside—including the three checks Larry had asked her to send out. She had been so excited, getting ready for the party at Jared’s, she had forgotten to mail them. How fortunate!

  Ellen collapsed onto the front seat, gasping in relief, already seeing the joy on Jared’s face as she handed them to him. How absolutely wonderful.

  Leaving the rest of the mail inside the folder, Ellen opened Larry’s three and took out the checks, the largest one payable to “Mark Allen, Plumbing and Electrical.” She could either tear them up or write “VOID” on them.

  She wanted to return them, intact, to Jared, and let him hand them to Richard. In fact, Jared could void them. She would drive over right now—no, best to call and tell him, then drive over. It would give her the perfect excuse to see him tonight.

  Dropping the folder onto the passenger seat, she bounced out of the car, locked it, and raced to her apartment, checks in hand, eager to share her good news.

  Suddenly a man stepped out from behind a shrub near her door, a dark figure disengaging itself from the darker surroundings. His face, shadowed in the dim porch light, twisted in anger as he thrust it close to her. Larry.

  *24*

  As Larry closed in, Ellen screamed, throwing her hands up in fright. His slight figure appeared menacing in the dim light.

  “What kept you?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “I’ve been waiting hours.”

  “I... I...” Her mind spun in shock and confusion. What was he doing here?

  “Did you have a hard time getting away?”

  He moved closer and she backed against the hard wood of the doorpost, her hands thrust out, trying to ward him off. Fear clouded her thinking. What was he talking about?

  “The checks,” he exclaimed, his tone switching to elation as he spotted them and snatched them from her fingers. “You brought them! Good for you. I had my doubts; I wasn’t sure about you, so couldn’t say much. I’m glad you got my hints.”

  “Jared knows—and so does Richard!” she stammered. “They know all about you.”

  “Too late. We’re off!”

  “We?” She still didn’t understand what.... Was he thinking she had been helping him, all this time? He couldn’t!

  “Yes. Did you think I’d leave you behind?”

  He could. She stared at him in amazement. She hadn’t agreed to anything—but Larry didn’t realize it. He had misinterpreted her gratitude as affection towards him. Her inability to tell people to back off had strengthened his delusion.

  He pushed her towards her door. “Open it,” he urged.

  She fumbled with her keys. What should she do? Run? If she ran now, Larry would get away with the checks. But if she acted like she was going along until she got hold of the checks, then ran—or tore them up, she might be able to save Jared’s company.

  She couldn’t wait too long before she ran. If they caught the two of them together, Larry would swear she had helped him. He would claim she brought the checks to him so he wouldn’t have to wait for the mail.

  It would look like she was guilty. Richard would say he had been right after all, and Jared—Jared might think he had been tricked.

  As she opened the door, Larry reached past her and flicked on the light. “If you haven’t packed, you’ll need to. It’ll be some time before we touch land again.”

  “It won’t take me long.” Entering her bedroom, she opened her suitcase and threw things into it. She paid no attention to what she was packing, her mind focused on figuring out what to do.

  She needed to leave behind an indication that she had been taken against her will, while at the same time keeping Larry unaware. He wasn’t dangerous as long as he believed she was helping him.

  The bathroom would be private. She entered, closed the door, picked up the soap and began to write on the mirror: Help. Kidnapped by Larry. Going to his boat.

  He knocked on the door. “Move it.”

  “Coming.” She swung the vanity door open so the mirror could not be seen from outside the room, flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and walked out, drying them. To distract him from checking in the room, she waved her hands as she ran over to her dresser. “Lipstick,” she said. “I’ve got to have that.”

  She picked one up, put it on. The color clashed with her shirt, but she didn’t care. As she started to screw it closed, her gaze landed on the top sheet of a stack of papers on her dresser. It was the worksheet she had used with Jared their first day.

  “When Jerry lost his toy boat, his father made him another.” The memory of Jared, struggling against great odds, brought a smile to her heart, softening her with love, while at the same time strengthening her resolve.

  Using the lipstick, she changed the “J” to an “L” and underlined the word “boat.” It was all she had time to do, for Larry shut her suitcase and crossed impatiently to where she stood.

  “Here.” He handed her her jacket, and she placed it over one arm, tucking the worksheet underneath. She now had a second message to leave, not much of one, but maybe she could add to it.

  Or would someone think it was just a child’s homework and throw it away?

  “What will you do with the checks?” she asked.

  “I’ll deposit them,” he said, placing them in his shirt pocket. “Then I’ll go to another bank and close out the account I deposited them into.”

  Could he do that, or would Jared’s stop check alert the bank so that they wouldn’t cash it? Had Jared even made that call? He hadn’t asked her for the phone number of the bank. He might have been coming out of his office to do so when he overheard her talking to Richard. There was no way of knowing.

  “It’s too late,” she protested. “The banks are closed.”

  “I’ll use ATMs. I closed all but two of my accounts while I was waiting for you—the accounts these checks go into. They’re the largest ones, so we’ll be able to live on them quite a while in Mexico.”

  “Mexico? I... I thought we were going to Canada,” she said, still trying to decide. Stay or run. She did not want to get onto his boat, so it looked like she had to run.

  Confronting him in the house was too dangerous. She needed to get outside, onto the busy street. And she needed to leave the paper behind, where it would catch someone’s eye.

  Larry motioned her before him out the front door, and she walked out, made sure he cleared the doorway, then stopped.

  “I’ve got to make sure my... my stove is off,” she said, thinking it sounded a lame excuse as she pushed past him back into her apartment. She ran into the kitchen, faked a quick check, then returned, dropping the paper on the floor as she pulled the door behind her.

  She left it unlocked, slightly ajar, and walked to the street. Larry was already at his car, tossing her suitcase into the back. He got into the driver’s seat, pulled the door shut, and rolled down his window, a smile of satisfaction on his face as she approached.

  The checks in his shirt pocket beckoned her like chocolate candy to a five-year-old. She leaned forward as if to speak and snatched them out. She had acted on the opportunity, without further thought, and now turned and ran, dropping her jacket as she raced down the sidewalk, Larry’s enraged yell spurring her on.

  Ellen looked ahead, down the empty street. She had to reach help. Where were all the people that had been out jogging and walking the area such a short time ago?

  She ran as fast as she could, white bits of paper dropping from her fingers as she shredded the checks. Larry was not going to get any more money because of her.

  The squeal of tires made her glance back. The dark form of his car hurtled towards her, its engine roaring. Desperate, she dove into a courtyard surrounded with a concrete fence.

  The car leapt the curb and screeched to a halt. Larry charged out the door, yelling furiously.

  She ran towards the apartment
complex, but before she reached the first door, Larry caught up with her. He pulled her back toward the car as she bit and scratched and kicked, determined not to get into it.

  He was a small man; her struggles slowed him down, but not enough. She screamed, and he clamped one hand over her mouth as he shoved her roughly inside and climbed in with her.

  Jared stared at his map, then up at the street sign. This was it. Ellen’s home should be nearby. He examined the numbers again, figured out which side of the street it should be on, then drove slowly forward, one eye closed, reading the numbers off the doors.

  There. The old cozy-looking, somewhat run-down building, dark shakes, stucco finish, with an outdoor staircase. She had number two, a ground floor apartment, and he spotted it right away.

  He stopped, got out, and picked up the dark object lying on the sidewalk in front of him. A jacket. It looked like Ellen’s.

  Striding up to her door, he started to knock, but the door moved under his fist, opening into darkness.

  “Ellen?” He reached around, found the switch and turned on the light. No answer.

  A white paper on the floor just inside caught his eye, and he picked it up, recognizing the lesson sheet. Knew the words. Larry... boat.

  “Ellen!” He shouted her name, searched the place swiftly, spotted the words on the mirror. Read them.

  The message cut him in two, leaving him shaken, sick; his world blackened with fear. If anything happened to her, he would die.

  He ran out the door and reached his car before he realized he should call the Coast Guard. He stopped. Where would Larry moor his boat?

  A woman’s scream, a few doors down, interrupted his thoughts, and he looked that way, not wanting to break concentration.

  Should he phone first?

  He’d better. Turning, he started to return to the apartment, at the same time glancing over to see what caused the commotion.

  Ellen—fighting Larry. As Jared watched, Larry pushed her into the car—and she kept on going, right out the other side.

  “Stop!” With a yell, Jared sprinted the quarter block to reach them. Larry, intent on Ellen, didn’t see him coming, and Jared grabbed him, spun him around, and hit him. All the force of his anger was released in the blow and Larry sprawled face down, flat on the ground. When he tried to get up, Jared simply knelt on Larry’s head. The action kept Larry on the ground and himself from killing him.