The Grey Door

by Danna Wilberg

  “Hello, Rachel? It’s Grace Simms. Does Dr. Meltz have any openings this evening?”

  “Hang on; I’ll check.”

  Grace needed to talk to someone about Arlene. Dr. Meltz would know how to deal with her suspicions about Tiny Burton. If Tiny had, in fact, been involved in the home-invasion robbery, rape, and killing spree, perhaps Dr. Meltz could tell her how to proceed. Garret’s gone. I can’t call the police station and confer with him. Garret’s ashen face appeared behind her closed lids, and her heart began to ache.

  “Grace?” Rachel called. Grace bit down hard and tasted blood.

  “Yes, I’m here,” she replied, blinking away memories.

  “Dr. Meltz canceled his evening appointments. He’s up on Maternity with Willa.”

  “Canceled? Is everything okay?”

  “Other than the fact we’re having the darnedest time keeping him away from that new grandbaby of his?” Rachel’s comment only received a slight chuckle from Grace. “I tell you, that poor child is going to be spoiled rotten before Willa gets her home.”

  “To the core,” Grace agreed. “You know how he loves kids.” Grace found a tissue and blotted her lip. “Call me when he has an opening, will you? I can switch a few of my appointments around tomorrow. Tell him I need his advice. It’s rather important.”

  “Sure thing, Grace. I’d page him for you, but, jeez, I’ve got bills to pay!”

  “No worries, it’s fine. I can wait.”

  Grace hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

  “I can handle this,” she reminded herself.

  After counseling three more clients, Grace called it a day. It was already six-thirty. She was mentally exhausted. She looked forward to a quiet, relaxing walk in the park with her dog. But when she arrived home, she saw Jess’s car.

  “Shit.” She swore under her breath as she pulled into her garage.

  Before the key was freed from the ignition, Jess stood close by. She could feel his hot breath on her shoulder, as she slid from behind the wheel.

  “Jess, I thought we had an agreement?”

  He stepped back, letting her rise.

  “I did call. I left messages. Have you returned any of them?”

  Grace stiffened at his accusations. Their eyes connected briefly, hers cool, his bloodshot.

  “I’m sorry,” she said slamming the door. “I have a lot going on right now.”

  “Anything you want to share?” His hazel eyes flashed shades of green.

  “Why are you getting testy with me? I asked you to call before you drop by, that’s all—common courtesy.” She heard Sneaky’s bark escalate inside the house. “I need to let my dog out,” she said, brushing past him.

  “Don’t you walk away from me,” he yelled, blocking her path to the door.

  “Ex-cuse me?” Grace steadied her hands on her hips. She turned and headed the other way. She knew all she would have to do is turn the knob to the front door and Jess would be wearing eighty-five pounds of fur on his face. “You’re upsetting my dog.”

  “I’m sorry. I was out of line. I just need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

  His apology didn’t change her apprehension.

  “Wait here. I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Fine,” he said.

  Sneaky’s nails clicked on the tiled floor of the foyer as the dog danced and barked with excitement. Grace immediately shoved the front door closed with her foot and relocked it.

  Stroking Sneaky’s fur put them both at ease. She peered into the dog’s big, brown eyes and felt safe.

  “You look pretty happy to see me.” The dog’s tail swished to and fro, and her jaw pulled into a smile.

  Grace threw her keys on the table and spied Jess through the window. His hands were buried in his pockets. He was pacing. He was never like this in college. Do you know that for sure? What happened to the easy-going, charming, sexy Jess? Was his divorce taking its toll? Maybe it’s you who’s changed. Guilt seeped in. Lately, she hadn’t been much of a friend.

  Sneaky followed Grace up the stairs, panting. The house felt unusually warm. She checked the thermostat. The temperature read eighty-two.

  “No wonder,” she said, adjusting the dial. Odd.

  Grace tossed her clothes on her unmade bed and slipped into shorts and a tank top. While hurrying to the bathroom, the window caught her attention. She began to tremble. I’m sure I locked it! The only other person who had had access to her house was dead. Which meant? Suddenly a shadow stretched across her lawn. She held her breath until she felt faint. Just then, she heard whistling.

  “Jess?” she called through the open window. Sneaky growled.

  Her fur stood up on end. Grace got chills. Jess came to the window. “You need help?” he called up. “I’ll be right there!”

  “No, stay! I’ll be right down.” I asked him to wait out front.

  She mustered enough courage to charge into her closet, almost bumping Sneaky in the nose. The closet revealed clothes hung neatly in rows and shoes in clear boxes stacked on shelves beside filled bins. Nothing looked out of place. She walked gingerly through her bedroom and crossed the hall to the spare room. The door was ajar. She peeked around the doorjamb and slowly pushed, cringing at the creaking sound. She held Sneaky’s collar tight as she tip-toed to the mirrored closet across the room. Holding her breath, she grabbed the handle and pulled. When a hat box tumbled from the top shelf and whacked her on the head, she screamed.

  Blood pounded in her ears. Breathe, Grace! Breathe! Barreling down the stairs, she slipped. Luckily, Sneaky broke her fall. Her fingers worked locks and chains. In seconds flat, she bolted outside.

  “Oh my God, Jess!” she sputtered, “Someone’s been in my house!”

  “No way!” he denied. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “How can you tell?”

  “The window. When I came home this morning, I closed it!”

  “Came home? From where?” The question halted her explanation. How can I say without confessing? Yet, she couldn’t continue unless she did. His eyes fixed on hers, awaiting the answer.

  “I was with a friend. It’s a long story,” she mumbled and turned toward the house averting his reaction. “I know I closed it this morning.”

  “How long was it open? Did you notice it last night?” He tried to act nonchalant, but Grace saw right through him.

  “I closed the window. Someone opened it. Are you saying I’m mistaken?” The tables were turned now. She could almost see the gears shift in his head as he changed his strategy. He was a pro at thinking on his feet. The lawyer in him prevailed.

  “I merely asked a question. Are you getting defensive?” he asked.

  “Someone was in my house,” she enunciated. “Are you fucking listening to me?”

  “I’m sorry. You’re upset,” he said, more subdued. “Tell me what happened.” Grace half expected the controlling part of him to become the hero. He placed his hand on her shoulder and massaged gently, trying to comfort her. Stepping closer, he attempted the predictable hug, but Grace backed away. A growl rumbled deep in Sneaky’s throat.

  “Why does that damn dog growl at me all the time? It’s annoying!”

  Grace wanted to throw innuendos. Maybe the damn dog doesn’t like you. She decided not to.

  “Sneaky, go do your business. It’s alright.” The dog obeyed and trotted over to the bushes.

  “Gross,” he grimaced.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, diverting his attention from her dog.

  “Like I said, you never called me back.” His eyes slid back to hers. His tone nicked her cool like a dull razor.

  “I have a life I’m trying to put back together. I don’t need to be pressured, nor will I explain myself every time I don’t return a call. Assume that I am busy, out of town, with a friend!”

  “Oh, I see,” he said bitterly. “Who is it now?”

  “I think you’d better leave.”

  “Who are you sle
eping with now, Grace?”

  “Go home, Jess. And don’t call me. When I sort things out, I’ll call you. We can talk then.” She started to walk away but grabbed her arm.

  “Do you think that all you have to do is say the right words and I’ll jump?” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  “Hey! What’s going on here?” They both turned to the voice that came out of nowhere. “Get your hands off of her, man. Now!” Paul looked ready to kill. Sneaky looked ready to assist.

  “Well, well. Here’s my answer.” Jess extended his hand. Paul declined. “Jess Bartell, Grace’s last fuck.” He looked at Grace with contempt. “She’s good, isn’t she?”

  The remark was wounding. Why is this happening? She thought she’d surpassed high-school drama.

  “You were asked to leave,” Paul said. He didn’t have to threaten or raise a hand. His expression looked like chiseled granite, his voice, a command from the underworld. Jess knew he meant business.

  Even Grace felt Paul’s vibes when his six-foot frame moved into Jess’s space. Jess’s ego deflated, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he gave Paul a look reserved for a serial killer. When Jess turned and departed, Grace wanted to heave.

  “I…I don’t understand,” she stammered, collapsing onto the wooden stair. “I have known Jess since college. I can’t imagine why he’d act that way!” Her trembling hands combed through her hair while she tried to make sense of what just happened. “He’s going through a divorce. A person doesn’t–” Grace gave up her defense. No excuses. Jess was out of line. Paul sat beside her, positioning his arm around her stooped shoulders. She cupped her face in her hands. “Sometimes he’s a jerk.”

  Sneaky’s eyes followed Jess to the breezeway, growling until he was out of sight.

  “You never liked him, did you?” asked Grace of her protector. “If only dogs could speak.” Sneaky’s brows knit together, and she gave a low bark.

  “C’mon, let’s get you inside,” Paul said, helping her to rise. “I stopped by to see how you were doing. I don’t have your phone number.” He held the door wide. “Good timing, n’est-ce pas?”

  Grace didn’t reply. She took the pad of paper by the phone, wrote down her number, and handed it to Paul.

  “I’m sorry. I need to sort things out.”

  “Understandable.” He gently took the pen from her hand. He wrote down his number, tore the paper in half, and laid it by the phone with the pen beside. “Call me if you need me. I’m a light sleeper.” He tenderly moved a strand of hair from her tear stained cheek. “I’ll keep my phone on.” Lifting her chin, he added, “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning.”

  “Thanks. I should be fine.”

  This time he didn’t speak. He smiled warmly and let himself out. Grace locked the door behind him, hooked the chain in place and went upstairs.

  She checked the bathroom window and stared into space. Jess’s cruel words stung her once again. How could she have fooled herself into thinking her brief affair with him wouldn’t turn ugly?

  We were friends. She remembered how he used to excite her. But then Garret came along. She sat at the edge of the tub and turned the knob full force. If I had slept with Garret, would there have been regrets? She checked the water temperature and adjusted the heat. It was cooling off outside, a perfect night for a warm bath. She needed to soak, unwind. She needed to figure out why Dr. Meltz’s words haunted her: You love them until they love you back.

  Grace stripped out of her shorts and tank-top, her mind returning to Jess. Time changed everyone, she thought, but when did Jess’s dark side begin to emerge? I never saw him get angry like that before…about anything. Agitated, yes. He fought like hell for his clients—for justice. His display tonight was not a trait; it was a flaw.

  She climbed into the tub and settled herself against a kidney-shaped pillow. Her eyes closed, seeking anything relevant from the past that would indicate Jess’s predisposition to developing a temper. How about the ballgame? When he threw his popcorn at the umpire? Doesn’t count, she thought. The whole crowd was irate. The batter was out. Fine. There was the time Jess razzed Grace about having a thing for her lab partner. Jess came to her apartment drunk and smashed her coffee table. He claimed it was an accident. He said the glass slipped from his hand. He was trying to catch it. It happened so fast, she explained. She pictured the twelve stitches on his hand that took weeks to heal.

  She needed to determine where else his anger could be coming from? Jenna? Jenna’s dad was a power monger; maybe he was causing trouble in Jess’s career? No excuse, her voice of reason chimed in. You’re his friend, not his doormat.

  Truth be told, she slipped deeper into the water and turned on the jets. The pulsating sensation relaxed her immediately. Her troubles began to melt, until… The phone rang.

  She turned off the jets and sat up to listen.

  “Grace? It’s Mom. Pick up. I know you’re there. I need to speak with you. Call me back…tonight!”

  “Shit.”

  Grace sank back down into the tub. The jets began to roar, but her body remained rigid. She struggled to clear her mind, but she couldn’t let go of the guilt.

  “Damnit!” She soaped a washcloth and then lathered and rinsed. She rose to grab a towel, and then, ignoring the window, quickly patted herself dry.

  Her damp skin glistened in the orange glow streaming through the window as she smoothed scented lotion on her legs, torso, and arms. She brushed her teeth and unfastened the clip from her hair. Shadows filled the room. The days were getting shorter.

  Get it over with, nagged the voice in her head. When I’m good and ready, she decided and filed a snag on her thumbnail. Finally, she erased her mother’s message and picked up the phone. Before she dialed, she wrapped herself in a light cotton robe. Her mother made her feel naked enough.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “When are you coming down here?”

  “I told you: Labor Day.”

  “Labor Day? Grace, that’s a week away!”

  “I didn’t know my visit was urgent.”

  “I want to get your father’s things packed up, so I can sell this house and move into a smaller place.”

  “Do you have a place in mind?”

  “I should’ve just hired someone.”

  “I said I would help. Let me check my schedule. How is Aunt Noreen?”

  “How soon can you be here?”

  Grace tightened her sash. “I’ll check the flights. I should be able to get out Thursday evening. If not, I’ll drive. Is that soon enough?”

  “Your dad isn’t doing well.”

  “God, Mom. Why didn’t you just say that?”

  “If you arrive on Thursday, that will give us all day Friday. The bone-marrow drive is Saturday. I signed you up to volunteer. It’ll be good for you to be around sane people for a change,” her mother snickered. Grace rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll let you know what time on Thursday. Don’t worry about picking me up. If I don’t drive down, I’ll rent a car.”

  “All right. Get some rest. You sound tired.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  >click<

  The weight of despair dragged Grace down to the mattress. Her vision blurred. A tear ran down the side of her nose, leaving a dark stain on her pillow sham. She tried to picture her family in happier times.

  She remembered a picnic her Dad took them to. Dr. Meltz was there with his family. Grace was eight, six months older than Willa. Grace’s mom seemed to bristle around Sylvie, Dr. Meltz’s wife. Nevertheless, the two families sat together and shared lunch. Grace’s dad was animated that day, perhaps the reason the memory stuck out in her mind. Her dad was usually reserved, but on that day he was a clown. Sylvia Meltz was his captive audience. Even more out of character, her mother, the teetotaler, drank heavily while Grace and Willa played on the water slides. Grace drifted off to sleep, remembering how her parents fought bitterly that night.

  Footsteps running faster. They were he
rs. She looked behind. No one there. She slowed to catch her breath until she heard…whoosh, whoosh. Coming closer…a scythe? Whoosh, whoosh…

  Grace’s heart felt like it was going to explode. Her robe bunched beneath her naked body. Something wet touched her foot. A scream, ready to rip from her throat, squelched when she heard Sneaky whine. In the dark room, she could hear the dog’s tail thump and swish on the floor.

  “Oh, my God!” she gasped, flicking the switch on the lamp beside her nightstand. “You scared me!”

  The dog whimpered with sad eyes. Grace checked the clock. Almost midnight.

  “I’m sorry, you poor thing. You haven’t eaten. You probably need to go out. I am not a very good pet parent, am I?” Grace got up, fixed her robe, and went downstairs. She flipped every light switch along her path.

  Once the kitchen was illuminated, her eyes gravitated to the piece of paper Paul left sitting near the phone.

  No, I’m not going to call him. I can handle this on my own.

  Grace scooped chunks of meat into a bowl, changed the dog’s water, and poured herself a glass of ice tea. The sound of the cubes jingling in her glass broke the tension. She picked up the phone and dialed the airlines. All the decent flights were booked.

  Guess that settles that; I’m driving down.

  Grace placed another call.

  “Dr. Meltz, it’s Grace. I’m leaving on Thursday for Mom’s. I need to see you before I go. Thanks.” Grace felt a twinge of anxiety, a feeling that was becoming more and more familiar.

  She fixed herself a salad, went into her office, and turned on the TV. Timing is everything, she thought. Wilde DeFoe’s death was yesterday’s news. Ironically, the anchor was talking about Garret Weston, and the man who caused his death, Charro Vasquez.

  “Vasquez was found guilty of murder in the first degree,” the voice reported. “His lawyer, Everett Stein, plans to file an appeal. Now, stay tuned as we bring you the latest weather.”

  “What!” Grace choked. Everett Stein is Jess’s partner. Surely Jess knew! Why would he—? Suddenly Grace felt nauseated. She made it to the bathroom just in time to lose her dinner into the toilet.