The Grey Door

by Danna Wilberg

  Grace covered her mother’s hand in hers and prayed that she would recover. She prayed that her mother knew how much she loved her in spite of the mean things she said. She silently thanked God for sparing her mother’s life and promised to do better from now on…no more condescending remarks about her passion for her work or snide remarks about leaving her father. They would be different when this ordeal was behind them. They would be whole again. There would be a show of love, not just the assumption it existed.

  She laid her head on the edge of her mother’s bed. Tears stained the sheet. Grace felt like a little girl who needed her mother. She wanted to hear everything would be all right, but when she closed her eyes to imagine the possibility, Jess’s face came to view. She saw him looming over her. His smile wicked. She bit her tongue. The pain pulled her from the hideous notion that Jess could have been responsible for her mother’s injury. Why? What would he have to gain from hurting her? Anger surged through her body.

  She wanted answers.

  ***

  When the sun rose, the puppies were gone. Jess’s head felt as if it were in a vice. Sweat and sex permeated the sheets. Tequila oozed from his pores. He grinned and shot out of bed. What a night! He thought he could still taste the blood in his mouth. “A little chica goes a long way.” He giggled at his joke but then thought better of it when his head began to swim. “Must’ve been the worm!” He staggered into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

  He threw a dirty towel on the floor and was about to enter the grungy stall when he heard a knock on the door. “Qué?” he shouted.

  “Meester? Chu want a hacienda?”

  “Si! Just a minute for Chrissake,” Jess grumbled, grabbing the towel off the floor and wrapping it around his waist. He opened the door slowly. One can never be sure, questioning the safety issues in this place, especially after the night he had. For all he knew, the puppies could’ve called the Calvary, considering his bad behavior. Wouldn’t put it past them. He eyed the man on the other side of the door with suspicion. “Who sent you here?”

  “Juan Sanchez.”

  “All righty then. Come in.” Jess gestured for the man to take the chair across the room while he hopped onto the bed. The towel split apart revealing his thigh. The man across the room looked nervous as he produced a piece of paper with a map and handwritten notes. Jess reached out and took the paper from the man’s trembling hand.

  “Good. This is good.” He rested his arm behind his head and studied the map. “How far is Casa Robles from here?”

  “One-hundred-twenty-five kilometers.”

  “Did Juan get the truck like I asked?”

  “Si.”

  “What about the cage?”

  “Si.”

  “Excellent.” Jess pulled five one-hundred-dollar bills from the wallet and handed them to the man. “You’ll get the rest when the job is finished. Capice?” The man nodded his head.

  “When chu need the other men and the cage?”

  “Two days. She gets out of the hospital in two days.”

  “Si, señor. We will be ready.”

  “Great. And tell Juan I appreciated his hospitality last night.” Jess pretended to pull a hair from between his teeth. “Yummy!”

  The man tittered at the insinuation and took leave. Jess shut the door behind him. His chortling turned hysterical, another tear in his sanity. He could hear laughter coming from hell. He could hear his mother’s shrill voice sharing a joke with her lover, her demands spoken like a taskmaster: “Fuck ‘em again, Harry. I want to see if you can make him cry. Ten bucks says you can’t. My boy is tough.”

  Jess crumbled to the floor. The recollection paralyzed him. He imagined the pain and ten-dollar-bills sprinkled on the ground around him.

  ***

  When Grace awoke, Paul rose from the chair. “Boy, they knock you out pretty good around here.”

  “How long have you been watching me sleep?” “Visiting hours started at ten. It’s almost noon.” “I thought I smelled food,” Grace said.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Famished.”

  “That’s a good sign. Maybe they’ll let you go home early.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  “I called Sal this morning and told her what happened to your mom. She’s cool with taking care of Sneaky. She said that one of your clients needs a call though…when you’re up to it.”

  “She say who?”

  “No. She said she wouldn’t discuss that with me. She said to have you call her.”

  “Don’t take offense. I don’t discuss clients with anyone. Get used to that about me.” “Not a problem.”

  “I’m glad. It’s what I do, Paul. I’m a secret keeper,” she smiled.

  “Okay. As long as you know you can confide in me.”

  “Why are you so nice?”

  “Hard to be nasty, I guess. Ce n’est pas moi. It’s not me.”

  She eyed him with suspicion. “Will you always be this way?” “Do you want to find out?” “I haven’t decided yet,” she said.

  “Let me know when you decide so we can clear our slates and get out the markers.”

  “Will you kiss me first?”

  “Now?”

  “Right now.”

  “Don’t you want to brush or something first?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Nuh, uh. “

  “Okay, here goes,” he said, puckering his lips and closing his eyes.

  Her lips pressed against his.

  “There,” she said, backing away. “We have a deal.”

  “What did I miss?”

  “We sealed the deal. No secrets.”

  Paul shifted back in his chair. He didn’t agree to those terms at all. “When can you see your mother?”

  “I saw her this morning. She was still under anesthesia. I’m hoping she’ll be able to talk when she wakes up. The police want to know what happened. So do I.”

  Grace sensed his mood change. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Paul met her gaze. “No, this is just so…crazy! You’re here because of a weird situation. Then your mom ends up here. We’re kissing and sealing deals under extreme conditions. It’s crazy, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she said, seemingly disappointed. “I can see your point. Okay. The deal is off.”

  “C’mon, Grace. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t operate that way. I’m an honest guy. I just don’t believe we need to know everything about each other this very second. We can take it as it comes.”

  “What is it, Paul? You were the one who recommended I spill my guts. Don’t I have the right to know more about you? I see that as fair play.”

  “You’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “I plan to spend a long time with you. I want you to know me, but life is more interesting without all the cards on the table.” “Are you hiding something from me?” He grinned.

  “Moi?”

  “Paul?”

  “I’ll tell you what I think you should know and when. Trust me on that one, please.”

  “Now you have me intrigued.” She cocked her head to one side. “You’re not a spy, are you?”

  “See! You’re a smart woman! I knew you’d figure things out on your own.”

  “Okay. I’ll back off.” She straightened the collar of his shirt and met his gaze. “After I clean up, let’s go cause some trouble.”

  His handsome face returned her mischievous look. “Now you’re talking.”

  Grace hobbled out of bed. The incision hurt more today than the night before. A pain pill would help, perhaps after she looked in on her mother. She disappeared into the bathroom and came out fresh, but trouble would have to wait. Her energy waned.

  When lunch arrived, Grace rolled the peas around her plate.

  Paul nibbled on a sandwich he bought from the vending machine.

  “Not the Ritz, is it?”

  “No. How’s the steak?” Paul asked.

  “Tough. How’s the ham and chee
se?”

  “Dry. I say when you’re up and around we drive to the Orange

  Hill Restaurant for lobster.”

  “One of your deals?”

  “Maybe I need another kiss,” he said leaning forward. Their eyes met. “I want things to be right between us. I want to get to know you. I want to savor every morsel. I don’t wish to rush through who we are. I want to blend like the perfect omelet.” His lips touched hers tenderly. “Or maybe quiche.” “I like quiche.”

  “Me too,” Paul said.

  This time when their lips met, they explored their boundaries. His tongue tickled hers lightly, the feeling thrilling. Grace felt butterflies in her stomach. She never expected to feel this way again. When she said goodbye to Garret, she closed a door. Paul came along and took it off the hinges. “Don’t leave me,” she implored.

  “Je suis la pour toi.”

  “I know you’re here for me now,” she said. “I’m talking about tomorrow and the next day.”

  “Pour toujours?”

  “Forever is a long time, Paul, but yes. Today I need to know that you won’t die or disappear.”

  “I can’t make that kind of promise to you, but if it is in my power, God is on board, and the stars are aligned in the cosmos, then yes, forever.” She reached for him and held him tight. She pressed her ear against his chest and listened to his heart.

  “Then we have a deal.”

  ***

  Paul pushed the wheelchair into the elevator. A man dressed in coveralls held the door with one gloved hand. “Three please,” Paul directed. The man silently obliged. When the couple got off at the third floor, the door closed. The man studied his reflection in the polished chrome. He smoothed his salt and pepper mustache and straightened the cap on his bald pate. He pressed the button for the basement floor. His smile broadened. He began to hum. He had work to do.

  ***

  Fran Simms lay still in room 310. An officer chatted with the charge nurse behind the counter. When Grace rolled onto the scene outside the room, the policeman confronted her.

  “Miss Simms? Do you remember me from last night? Officer

  Stenberg, Nelson Stenberg?”

  “Yes, I remember. Did you check on Mr. Bartell?”

  “Yes. He hasn’t been to his office for the last two days. There’s an APB out for his arrest.”

  Paul searched Grace’s face for a reaction. He knew about the APB, and hated to lie to her. But if he mentioned he had stopped by Jess’s house, she would’ve asked questions. More lies would’ve been required. He smiled at her reassuringly. “Perhaps you weren’t hallucinating, after all.”

  “How can I be certain?” A tremor shimmied down her spine. She faced the officer and said, “Jess showed up to my mother’s home not too long ago. He said he was in the area on business.”

  Thinking back, her voice began to trail, “Now I’m not so sure.” “What is he wanted for?” Paul inquired.

  “His wife claims he kept her prisoner in their house for the last eight months.”

  Grace felt dizzy. Her cheeks flushed with heat. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She attempted to rise.

  “Grace, it’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” Paul rubbed her forearms as he pushed her back into the wheelchair.

  “He said they were separated! He said Jenna went back to LA. He’s been a monster all this time? Why didn’t I see it?” Her anger turned to a sob. “I could’ve prevented this if I had only spoken up! If I had only listened. He’s the one who hurt my dog, isn’t he? And now…my mother!”

  “Grace, calm down. They’ll find him. Let’s go see your mom. Let the police do their job.”

  Paul wheeled Grace into Fran’s room. He set the brake and joined the officer in the hallway.

  “Find that son-of-bitch before I do,” Paul demanded, standing toe-to-toe with Officer Stenberg. “He’s a psychopath. Put him away before he kills again.”

  ***

  Jess flipped the switch on the flashlight. The panel cover moved easily away from the mélange of toggle switches and buttons. He studied the diagram inside the panel door. “Eenie, meeny, miney, moe.” He scratched his chin. He was no electrician, but he whispered to himself, “What the heck?” He ran his finger along the rows of numbers, looking for a sequential pattern he could comprehend. He determined Grace’s room was on the second floor. He would need to get her out the door before he shut down the power. Imagining chaos made him tingle. Once I set the timer, I have fourteen minutes to get her into the truck and out the back gate before the gridlock. “No problemo.” However, there was one tiny, little snag. I need to get rid of lover-boy…tonight.

  CHAPTER 23

  MILITARY BUDDIES

  G race stared at her mother’s lifeless face. How peaceful, she thought, relishing what it would be like not to think or feel. What a luxury. During long lonely months of “noth-

  ingness” with Garret, she tried to do the same, tried not to feel. Each day she sat and read to him, talked to him, touched him, in hopes he would open his eyes and come back to her. That day never came.

  A tear slipped down Grace’s cheek. “Mom,” she whispered in her mother’s ear, “don’t leave me, Mom. I need you.” She squeezed Fran’s hand. “Paul’s here with me. The baby, LuLu, she’s going to be all right.” She moved closer. “I know about Daddy, Mom, I am so sorry you had to endure the pain of his indiscretion all these years, but it’s over now. The cat’s out of the bag. There’s no need for you to miss out on the chance for your own happiness. Tom is a good man, Mom. I’m sure he will make you very happy. All you have to do is wake up.”

  Just then, Paul entered the room and sat beside Grace. “We need to think about your safety. Jess knows you’re here.”

  She ignored his warning, indulging her pain. “Why would Jess hurt my mother?”

  “He’s crazy, sweetheart.”

  “You don’t know him like I do, Paul. He’s always been kind, generous.”

  “Sometimes—” Paul wanted to lash out, spill his guts about “Justin,” but this was neither the time nor the place. “What do you really know about him?”

  “We were very close for two years. We spent every day together. I dreamt of being his— I met his parents!”

  “Yeah, and what were they like?”

  Grace studied Paul’s face. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen, his query intense. “They were nice people.”

  “What were their names?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bartell! Hell, I didn’t ask. I was nineteen! I was so nervous. Worried I’d spill on myself.”

  Paul’s voice softened. “Sorry. What do you remember about them? Anything?”

  “They were grown-ups. They didn’t look anything like their son. They didn’t talk about when he was little, which struck me as odd. Usually, parents love to boast about their kids. Share embarrassing stories.” Grace looked at her mom and reconsidered.

  “Maybe not.”

  “I’m sorry, this isn’t the time. I’ll leave you two.”

  “Don’t go far.”

  “Not a chance.” Paul planted a kiss before leaving the room.

  His small gesture grew into more than Grace had anticipated.

  “You’re going to love Paul, Mom. I know you will. He’s different. He’s— Her words froze mid-sentence. Fran’s fingers moved.

  ***

  Paul went outside to make his phone call. “Tucson 369. Yes. Skip Malone. Yes, I’ll hold.” Paul looked around the lot. A hum traveled through his veins. He hadn’t felt this unnerved in ten years. “Skip! Hey, buddy, I need a favor. Female, five-foot-six, blonde hair, pretty, small features. 110 lbs. I’ll fax a photo. Yeah, I need one for myself too.” Paul listened as he walked toward the end of the building and peeked around the corner. “No, I still have the .45 you gave me last time.” Paul shoved his hand in his pocket and squinted at the sun. It’s him, Skip. It’s Justin Barnes. He’s posing as Jess Bartell, a lawyer from Sacramento. Yeah, whatever you can get. Thanks, buddy.” Pa
ul dialed the airlines.

  ***

  Jess turned off the flashlight and closed his tool bag. He rode

  the elevator to the main floor and exited the building. He passed the man talking on his cell phone. Lover-boy? He wanted desperately to turn and gloat but refrained. No need to take a chance on blowing his cover. He would wait until the moment was right, for he had another demon to unleash, and this one was far more deadly.

  ***

  When Paul returned, nurses scurried about the room, checking Fran’s vitals and charting the activity. Grace looked small, sitting in the corner in her wheelchair. Paul wanted to scoop her up and hold her close to his heart. No point in denying it, I’m falling in love.

  “Mom’s fingers moved!”

  “That’s great. When?”

  “A minute ago. I was talking to her, and they moved!” Grace’s eyes glistened. “I was telling her about you.” Paul crouched beside her and smiled.

  “Here, I brought you something.” He handed Grace a small gift bag. She opened it and pulled out a phone charger. “Purely selfish reasons. I plan to talk with you for hours, again.”

  “Real-ly?” She saw the answer in his eyes. “I almost forgot! I need to call Sal.” She patted his hand. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

  “Wait, there’s more.”

  Grace rummaged through the tissue and withdrew a little gold pin. She held it to the light. The sparkling gemstones spelled “Forever.”

  “What does this mean?”

  “Not sure. The pin jumped out at me. Had to have it. Not sure why. The next thing I knew, it jumped into the bag, and now we can both wonder what it’s all about.”

  She smiled and slipped the pin back into the bag. Did he make a mistake charting “forever” territory too soon? He shoved his hands into his pockets, concealing the slight tremble in his hands. Hoping his angst wouldn’t be audible, he asked, “Any changes?” He noticed the twitch in the corner of Grace’s mouth.