The Way You Say My Name (38 page)

“Because Henderson doesn’t stop at simple aversion therapy, James.” This coming from Bruce Seaford. “The D.A. brought me in to investigate allegations from more than one of Henderson’s former patients, allegations ranging from the patients being stung repeatedly with high voltage cattle-prods to being starved for days on end, kept in locked cells without food and water. Because most of these patients were teenagers at the time of treatment and only came forward as adults years later, the statute of limitations has expired, and there’s nothing we can do. Not for those patients, anyway. Our hands are further tied by the fact that Henderson isn’t a medical doctor. He doesn’t have hospital privileges--which makes his threat to have Dillon locked up in an institution laughable--nor does he see just any patients. It’s always harder to bust someone who’s in private practice, mainly because his records are harder to access.”
“But not anymore.” Alicia’s expression was pure satisfaction. “The minute Henderson pulled out that syringe, he opened himself up for investigation. All we have to do is secure a warrant and see what we can find.” She smiled at Jamie. “Now, you asked me a question. I believe you wanted to know what Henderson’s past had to do with you.”
“Yeah.”
“Jamie, when Douglas Carver held Dillon so that Henderson could dope him up, Douglas became Henderson’s accomplice. If we can prove that Henderson acted to harm Dillon and that Doug was helping to commit said harm, then yours becomes a case of self-defense, pure and simple.”
“How can it be self-defense if Dillon was the one threatened and not me?”
Brandon said, “I can answer that one. Because, kiddo, every man has a right to defend his spouse or his family. Since you and Dillon are partners, you have the right to defend him as you would yourself.”
“Yep. That about sums it up.” Alicia reached back into her briefcase, retrieving her phone and rising to her feet. “If you’ll please excuse me, I’ll call my boss and let him know what we’ve got so far. Hopefully, we’ll have a warrant before the night is out.”
Bruce stood as well, taking Brandon’s tape recorder with him. “I need to make copies of this. I have another recorder in my car that should do the trick.”
Brandon waited until Seaford was gone, then said, “I might as well call Skinner and let him know the score.” He stood and stretched. “Can I get you guys anything? How about you, Dex?”
Jamie and Dillon declined, as did Carson. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”
Brandon grabbed the cordless phone from one of the kitchen’s shining granite counters. “In that case, I’ll be in the living room, making a call.” Brandon walked out, leaving the three of them alone in awkward silence.
The silence may have been awkward for Dillon--and Jamie too, if the way he was wiggling around in his chair was any indication--but Carson seemed oblivious to it. His silver eyes roamed the confines of the kitchen, taking in the homey atmosphere. Dillon didn’t even realize he was staring at the man until Carson said, “You can ask me about it, if you want to.”
“About what?” Even as he said it, Dillon knew what Carson was talking about.
“The reason Bruce called me and asked me to come with him while he and Alicia talked to you. I can tell you’re curious.”
“I just figured it was because you’re a psychiatrist. Maybe Bran and his sister think Jamie and I need a shrink.”
Carson laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet kitchen. “I’ll admit, it sounds like the two of you have been through the ringer, but I wasn’t asked here so I could analyze you.” He sobered. “I’m here because I know Henderson, know firsthand what he’s capable of.”
Jamie’s mouth dropped open. “You were his patient?”
“I was his first patient. Well, the first patient he ever tried to convert, anyway.” Carson lowered his eyes, but not before Dillon saw the aching sadness inside. “I’m also his son.”
“Jesus.”
Carson raised his eyes at Dillon’s well-placed curse. “Quite a kicker, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and crossed his arms, elbows bent and propped on the table. “My father used to be a well respected psychologist. Some of his philosophies were outdated, to be sure, but he was highly thought of by most of his colleagues. All that changed when he found out I was gay. He and my mother freaked.”
Like Dillon didn’t know how that felt. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen. My father caught me with my boyfriend. We were just kissing, but it was enough to set my father off. He forbade me to see the guy again, and then he started on his crusade, as I call it. He became convinced that he could cure me. He started studying up on different techniques, all the ways to steer a person’s mind away from the evils of homosexuality.” Carson shook his head. “Needless to say, it didn’t work. My father put me through a full year of electric shocks and ‘dirty’ pictures before he realized it wasn’t working.” Carson’s jaw was set in stone. “That’s when my dad up-ed the stakes.”

Jamie whispered, “God.”
“God is exactly who my father thinks he is. He just couldn’t accept the fact that I was gay and there was nothing he could do about it. Because he’s not an M.D., he has no real pull with any of the local psychiatric hospitals. He threatened me with commitment, anyway, though, just like he did with you, Dillon. My guess is, in both our cases, he thought he could scare us into compliance. And he was right, at least where I was concerned. Whereas you fought back and didn’t listen, my father’s scare tactics worked on me. I would have done anything my father asked to keep myself from being locked up in some nameless mental ward somewhere. I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.” Carson shook his head in amazement. “Isn’t it incredible how wrong a person can be? Anyway, once my father had my cooperation, he went about the task of converting me with a vengeance. He started experimenting with different drugs, begging his colleagues to write prescriptions for him in a bid to find the one medication that would kill all those urges I was having. Never mind that he almost killed me in the process. He tried high doses of sedatives and antidepressants. They killed my sex drive, but the minute my dad pulled me off the meds and the drugs cleared my system, the natural desires and feelings came back. That’s when he got the bright idea to combine aversion therapy with the medications. He’d read somewhere about doctors who were using vomit inducing medicines along with electric shocks.” Dillon could see the strain on Carson’s face--the way he fought off the memories--but none of that stopped him from continuing. “I won’t dredge up the gory details, but you can imagine how terrifying it was for a teenage kid to go through that. And the shock treatments and drugs were some of the nicer things my father did to me. The rest of it, well . . . the rest is best left unsaid.” Carson leaned back with a sigh. “It took me the better part of three years, but I finally got away from him. I changed my last name and moved as far away from Chicago as I could get.”
Dillon didn’t blame him. “Why’d you come back? To stop your father from doing the same thing to someone else? Is that why you became a doctor yourself?”
“Something like that.” Carson might have said more, but Brandon came back in, ending the private conversation between the three of them.
Bran was smiling, a good sign. Dillon could tell how tense Jamie was, just from the way he sat in his chair. Brandon’s next words went a long way towards easing the strain for both of them.
“I just got off the phone with Skinner. Doug is making noise about pressing charges against you, Jamie. Skinner told him the case is on hold until further notice.”
“What now?”
“You and Dillon are going to spend the night here, with Nate and me. You’re not to go anywhere until Alicia gets this thing squared with the D.A., hopefully by tomorrow. Until then, you’ll get a break from work, school, everything.” When Dillon tried to protest, Brandon said, “Before you get all up in the air, kid, I’ll talk to your boss and let him know what’s going on. Think of it as a mini-vacation.”
Unless Brandon was sending him and Jamie to a tropical island where homophobic parents were shot on site, Dillon didn’t think a vacation--mini or not--was going to help.
* * *
The next hour and a half--between the time Alicia and crew left and Nate came back--was organized chaos. Brandon had Dillon and Jamie write out and then sign statements about what had happened, statements which he faxed to Alicia’s boss and Ronald Skinner. Jamie almost breathed a sigh of relief when the hum of the fax machine broke the quiet of the house. He was looking forward to a few quiet minutes with Dillon.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the phone started ringing. Heath, Ash, Megan, and Jim Pembroke all called in, having learned their whereabouts from Aunt Sadie. All had heard about Morgan’s attack. Megan also knew about the visit from Dillon’s parents, but the others--especially Heath--were stunned by the revelation. It took Dillon and Jamie both to explain everything that had happened, and by the time they were finished trading the phone back and forth and giving explanations, both were visibly exhausted.
Nate came in them, carrying a small suitcase, and a bag of take-out from the new Tai place down the road. “I thought you would be hungry by now, so I stopped and got us all some supper. Hope you don’t mind spicy food. Oh, and I went by your place and grabbed you some clothes.” He looked down at their still-bare feet and grinned. “Shoes included. I hope that’s okay. Your aunt let me in.” He laughed. “That’s why it took me so long. She grilled me for over half-an-hour, just making sure the two of you were really okay.”
The grilling he wouldn’t wish on any man, but for the clothes and food, Jamie could have hugged him. “Thanks, Nate. Hey, how much do we owe you for the food?”
Brandon snorted. “You’ve been hanging around your partner too long, kid. Dinner’s on us.”
Dillon protested, but just one look at his bloodshot eyes and sagging shoulders told Jamie he was too tired to put up much of a fight.
Spicy wasn’t the word for the chicken and coconut soup, fried fish with tamarind sauce, and steak salad Nate placed on the table. At least the tapioca and coconut milk pudding they had for desert didn’t burn Jamie’s mouth off. Spicy or not, though, the food was good, and Jamie soon found his belly full and his head nodding. Dillon must have been in much the same condition because Nate took one look at the two of them and said, “I think we’ve done enough talking for one night. Let me show you guys to the guest room.”
Dillon and Jamie followed him without protest, eliciting a chuckle from Brandon as he told them goodnight and watched them stumble up the stairs after Nate.
The guestroom was warm and inviting, decorated in cheerful colors with an old-fashioned style that made Jamie feel instantly at home. The thing that he most looked forward to, though, was trying out the king-sized bed dominating the center of the room. Dillon was way ahead of him. He flopped down on the bed with a mumbled thank-you to Nate and closed his eyes, not even bothering to undress or pull back the covers.
Jamie gave Nate an apologetic smile, but Nate just laughed and waved it away. “The poor kid’s been through hell and back. The least he deserves is a good night’s sleep.” Nate squeezed Jamie’s shoulder. “You haven’t had an easy time of it yourself. How are you handling all this?”
Jamie shrugged. “I’m okay. Talking to Dr. Carson helped.”
Nate nodded. “Brandon told me Dex came with Alicia and the special investigator. He’s a good man. He helped me through a really rough patch in my life.”
“The death of your friend?”
“That and a total betrayal by my parents.” Nate scrubbed his hand over his face. “Let’s just say that Dex and Dillon aren’t the only ones who struck out in the parent department.”
“I know. Every time I think about what Dillon’s parents tried to do to him tonight, I start to wonder if having parents is really all it’s cracked up to me.” Jamie yawned. “I’m lucky as hell to have my aunt, though.”
“Yes, you are. And not all parents are like mine and Dillon’s. Just look at Dean and Gale. I can’t imagine any parents more loving than they are.” Nate smiled. “But right now, you need sleep more than you need grateful reflection. If you guys need anything during the night, don’t hesitate to holler. Bran and I are just down the hall.”
“I think we’ll be okay, but I’ll remember, just in case. Thanks, Nate. For everything. And tell Brandon we said thanks, too.”
“Anytime, Jamie. Goodnight.”
“Night.” Jamie closed the door behind Nate and headed for the bed. He managed to strip Dillon down to his boxers and wrestle him under the covers before stripping down himself and climbing in on the other side. He closed his eyes and was almost asleep when he felt Dillon roll over and pull him close. Into Jamie’s ear, Dillon said, “You saved me.”
Jamie played it off, the memory of what happened that afternoon too fresh to reexamine yet again. “It was nothing you wouldn’t have done for me. You’ve made a career out of protecting me, in fact.”
Dillon increased his hold, drawing Jamie so tightly against him, Jamie could feel every fiber of Dillon’s being. “Explain it away all you want, but I was terrified tonight, and you were there for me. You saved my sanity, possibly my life. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
Jamie thought he knew, but he asked anyway. “How?”
Dillon’s voice was little more than a husky whisper. “Like the luckiest man alive. I can’t live without you, Jamie. I never want to try.”
Jamie could do no more than nod, but he sensed it was okay. Words were unnecessary as he and Dillon rocked each other back and forth in a gentle rhythm to a quiet sleep.
* * *
Dillon had no doubt that a long, excruciating wait was in front of them as he got out of bed the next morning and started his day. Jamie was already up and going, but Dillon felt lethargic, too tired to move. Worry about what was going to happen to Jamie kept him pinned in place, despite the reassurances he’d received from Alicia the night before. When he finally forced himself out of bed, it was pushing noon. He showered and shaved in mechanical fashion, donning the clothes Nate had brought for them in the same robotic way. He came down the stairs and entered the kitchen to find a smiling Alicia sitting at the table talking to Jamie and Brandon. Dillon’s heart starting thudding against the walls of his chest, whether from hope or dread, he wasn’t sure.
Alicia sent him a thousand watt smile as he took the place next to Jamie. “There you are. I was beginning to think we were gonna have to go up there and drag your lazy butt out of the bed.”
Dillon blushed. “Sorry about that. I don’t usually sleep so late, I swear.”
“I’m just teasing you, honey. It’s not like you don’t have a good reason for sleeping in.” She picked up a sheaf of papers and waved them in front of herself. “I think these babies are gonna go a long way towards making you feel better.”
“What are they?”
Jamie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I can answer the first part of that question. At the top of the stack is a notarized statement from your dad dropping the charges he filed against me.”
Dillon closed his eyes, fearing it was too good to be true. When he opened them again, he turned back to Alicia. “How did you manage that one?”
“Your father made it easy for me by digging his own grave. By hooking up with Henderson, he left himself without a leg to stand on.” She must have seen Dillon’s lack of comprehension, because she said, “Let me explain. You remember I said that Henderson’s dispensing meds without a license was enough to get us a warrant for his office?”
“I remember.”
“Well, as it turns out, Judge Finwell thought it was enough to give us leeway to search his house, too. He issued both warrants just around midnight. The office search yielded nothing more than a couple of vials of Haldol, hardly enough to make an arrest. That’s where the home search comes into play. It was in Henderson’s basement that we hit the jackpot.”
Dillon was almost afraid to ask, but as it turns out, he didn’t have to. Alicia was all too happy to fill in the details. The woman was almost giddy, but Dillon couldn’t blame her. He was feeling a little lightheaded himself.
Alicia placed the papers back on the table and folded her hands over them. “Apparently fearing that his office would someday be raided, Henderson confined the majority of his work to the basement of his Chicago home.” She shivered. “Bruce Seaford went with the police who executed the search. He said the place is like some kind of mad-scientist torture chamber. They found restraints, shock mechanisms, drugs, whips and paddles--the whole works. They also found detailed records of the abuse some of those poor people suffered at Henderson’s hands. My boss believes we have enough evidence against him to put Henderson away for at least ten years, if not longer.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Alicia, especially if it means that no one else will have to go through the things Dr. Carson went through. But I still don’t see what made my dad drop the charges.”
Brandon spoke for the first time since Dillon had come downstairs. His voice was thick with compassion, and that’s when Dillon knew the answer to his question was going to be hard to hear.
Brandon said, “Dillon, when the cops raided Henderson’s home-office, they found not only records of treatments the good doctor had already administered, they found treatment plans for his future patients as well. One of those treatment plans had your name on it.” Bran sighed. “You don’t want the details of Henderson’s ‘sexual re-orientation plan’, and I don’t want to give them to you, so I’ll just say it wasn’t pretty and leave it at that.”
“Not only were these so-called treatments Henderson proposed for you horrifying, Dillon, but almost every one of them was illegal.” Alicia pulled a piece of paper free from the others and held it up. “This is a copy of the release form Henderson had your parents sign so he could begin your treatments. It shows without a doubt that Douglas and Angela both knew and approved of all the things Henderson wanted to do to you.”
Jamie scooted his chair closer to Dillon and brushed his leg against Dillon’s thigh. Though Dillon appreciated the gesture of comfort, it wasn’t necessary. He’d long ago reconciled the fact that his parents held no real love for him. Not the unconditional kind, anyway. And after having received exactly that from so many people he wasn’t even related to, unconditional love was the only kind Dillon was interested in.
Alicia put the form back with the others. “The minute Bruce found that paper, he knew we had Douglas dead to rights. Bruce called me, and I called my boss. Together we put together a little deal for your dear old pops, Dillon.”
Brandon’s smile was pure mischief. “That’s not the best part of the story, though. Since Douglas and Angela are residents of Reed, I, as sheriff, was allowed to deliver the paperwork to them, and to present the deal.”
Brandon’s excitement was contagious. Dillon felt the corners of his mouth begin to lift. “What kind of deal?”
Alicia went back through the stack of papers, pulling out two official looking carbon copies and sliding them across the table to Dillon. “Since Douglas signed off on a therapy that he, as a lawyer, knew to be illegal and a violation of your civil rights, the D.A. could have moved to have him not only disbarred and banned from practicing law in the state of Illinois, he could have also had Doug locked up as Henderson’s accomplice. Our office agreed not to seek any action against Douglas as long as he dropped all charges against Jamie.” She pointed to the documents she’d given to Dillon, papers he had yet to look at. “He and your mother are also banned from having any further contact with either you or Jamie for the next two years. I filed a restraining order in your name against each of them, an order which you can renew when the two years are up, if you’d like. All you have to do is sign off on it. Then, if they do approach either of you, no matter what the reason, we can lock them up for violation of the order.”