Page 64 of Disciplinary Action
He would find a way to fix Cal’s problems. All of them. And then Gideon was going to find a way for them to build a life together. No matter what.
Gideon knew little about Douglas Shea. In fact, he had yet to see the proctor in the five weeks he’d been interim headmaster. He found that suspect. How did a thirty-year-old MIT grad end up as a school proctor, who never seemed to actually be at school, and, more importantly, why did Roosevelt pay upper six-figures to a college-prep company called Tri-State to proctor exams and tutor students at an elite prep school? Nothing about Shea or his job at Roosevelt made sense.
When Gideon had attempted to locate Douglas Shea on campus that morning to finally get answers to his many questions, a smug Abernathy had told Gideon that Shea was out of town on vacation. Gideon had no time or patience for Abernathy. He was sure she was behind all of this mayhem. He’d immediately gone to his office and pulled up Shea’s employee record, jotting down his address, before telling Abernathy he’d be out the rest of the day. Her mutinous glare was almost enough to lighten up his mood. Almost.
He texted Cal to let him know he had left campus and to take an Uber home at lunch. He wanted to be there since it was, technically, Cal’s last day of school, but if Gideon couldn’t get a confession and retraction out of Shea, Cal wouldn’t get to live the life he’d dreamed of since he was little—a chance to go to the same school as his mother. Gideon needed to be able to give that to him. Even if that meant Cal ended up miles away from him. An icy fear gripped him as the image of Cal plummeting off the building flooded his mind.
Gideon shook the thought away. He couldn’t think about that. Not now. He couldn’t think about how it felt like Cal had brought him back from the dead, how they fit together like puzzle pieces, how Cal had taken to submission so beautifully and it had made him stronger. Gideon never felt more himself than when he was with Callum. He loved waking up to him in the morning and having him fall asleep in his arms at night. He didn’t want to lose any of that, but he wasn’t selfish enough to hold Cal hostage.
Shea’s house was a large craftsman style home tucked away in a quiet suburb just outside of town. Gideon supposed Shea could come from money, perhaps inheriting the million dollar home and the cash needed to acquire the two matching Land Rover SUVs parked in the circular drive, but somehow, Gideon doubted it. He took a deep breath before unfolding himself from the car, prepared to do whatever it took to force Douglas Shea to tell the truth, even if that meant choking it out of him.
Gideon forced himself to maintain an outward semblance of calm as he rang the doorbell and waited. His eyes went wide as a pretty young brunette answered the door with a cherubic pink-cheeked baby on her hip. She gave a confused smile when she saw him. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Douglas.”
She glanced back over her shoulder before asking, “May I tell him who’s here?”
“Leopold Gideon. His boss.”
The girl seemed to collapse as if she’d been expecting hired killers and not her husband’s employer. “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry. Come on in. I didn’t think anybody from Tri-State would make a house call.”
Gideon’s face was a blank mask but his thoughts were churning. What had Shea’s wife so spooked about a company that specialized in college prep?
“Dougie, a Mr. Gideon’s here from the company,” she called, waving Gideon inside. “You can just go right on through. He’s out back having lunch on the patio. The kids are playing in the pool.”
Gideon made it to the patio just as Doug was attempting to frantically extricate himself from his chair. Gideon wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the tall, lanky man with a weak chin, freckles, and carrot red hair. His eyes were a pale gray that seemed almost white in the sea of red. The man’s eyes were watery and bloodshot. Gideon’s gaze dropped to the highball glass sitting next to the man’s untouched sandwich.
Gideon glanced at the three children laughing and screaming in the pool, each of them as pale and ginger as their father. They paid neither men any attention as they chased each other before crashing into the deep end. The man clearly had a lot to lose. Gideon could use that to his advantage.
“Hello, Douglas. I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m Gideon. I think we need to talk.”
Doug’s head swung from his wife in the doorway to his children in the pool. “C-Can we talk in my office?”
Gideon shrugged, a menacing smile on his face. “We can talk anywhere you like.”
“Watch the kids, Geneva,” Doug barked as he edged past his wife back into the big house with its spacious floor plan.
Once they’d crossed the house to the man’s office, Doug plopped into a large leather office chair behind his desk, nervously gesturing for Gideon to have a seat on the other side. He couldn’t help but notice how the man was already sweating. “You know, Doug. If you’re going to make your living doing something highly illegal, you should really learn to control your flop sweat. It’s a dead giveaway.”
“What?” Doug asked, face falling, as he wiped at his brow with the back of his palm.
“Look, I admire the hustle. I know how Roosevelt parents are, throwing money at you to get their spoiled, stupid brats into the best schools. I’m an alumnus myself. I remember all too well how the game is played. Here’s what I don’t understand. How did they get you to lie about Callum Whyte?”
“What?” Doug asked again, face turning an unflattering shade of pink.
“You heard me. I know Callum Whyte didn’t pay you to take his SATs, so I’m assuming somebody paid you to say that he did. I want to know who and I want to know why. Oh, and I want a written retraction that states you made the whole thing up.”
“I-You know I can’t do that,” he whispered.
“I know everything,” Gideon bluffed. “I know about the payments, about Tri-State…about how you afford a million dollar home and two fancy cars with all those kids you have playing out in your heated pool. It would be a shame if we were to get the cops involved.”
Doug frowned, and Gideon worried a bit for the man’s health as sweat dripped from his face to his desk. “Is… Is this a trick? A test? Are you trying to see if I’ll stay loyal?” he asked.
Well, that was an interesting question. “Loyal to whom, Doug?”
Douglas stared down at the plant on his desk for a full minute before leaning towards it. “Look, I said I would help you guys, but I didn’t sign on to be harassed. You hear me? I’m doing everything you wanted me to. What are you trying to prove?”
Had the man finally snapped? “Are you talking to your ficus, Doug? Because if you’re trying to convince me you’re crazy, we’re a bit past that point. Like I said, I don’t want to get the cops involved, but I will.”
