Drawn To You: A Psychological thriller

by Ren Montgomery

  “I’d love to! But, is Shelby ever going to marry Rick? Inquiring minds want to know.”

  “I thought you didn’t know my cartoon?”

  He blushed. “After our coffee date the other day, I looked you up online and spent an evening going through your archives. Your strip’s pointed and funny. It’s one reason why I called you last night. I like smart women.”

  Coffee date! She felt a thrill go through her as tears pricked her eyes. He thought she was smart. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. She felt her face flush with pleasure. “Actually, I’m adding a new love interest for Shelby. Rick’s kind of boring.”

  “I like Rick. He’s solid, not boring.”

  Yeah, solid like Simon, whom he was based on. “Trust me, you’ll like Donovan even better. Just like Shelby will.”

  “Okay. You’re the boss. Just FYI, I also found your Wikipedia page and ordered your book off Amazon. You have to sign it for me when it arrives.”

  He’d bought Losers Weepers? Her first cartoon anthology, released back in June, wasn’t exactly tearing up the literary world. With his copy added to her sales, she might’ve finally sold a baker’s dozen… He was so sweet! “Of course I’ll sign it for you,” she said.

  “Thanks. Would you mind if I took a shower? I have to leave in about an hour, and I need to go home and change clothes—you know.”

  She’d been hoping he’d ask her to shower with him. “No, go right ahead.”

  “Thanks.” He stood up, and Ruby caught her breath as she saw him naked again. He was magnificent. Maybe his penis was just a tad on the small side, but he had more than enough to satisfy. He didn’t have a hairy chest—thank God—and he was fit and muscular, much more so, in fact, than you could guess by seeing him dressed. When they were married, she wouldn’t allow him to wear clothing.

  “There are clean towels in the linen closet in the hall,” she murmured, watching him.

  “Thanks.” He leaned over and gave her another kiss before he turned, scratched his ass absently, and left the room, making no move to cover himself.

  She waited until she heard the shower start before following him. She was going to surprise him by getting into the shower with him. She stood by the bathroom door for a moment gathering her courage. One, two, three! She tried the door, but it was locked.

  “Ruby?” he called.

  “I just needed a tissue. Sorry,” she said, hurrying back into her bedroom.

  He’d locked her out of her own bathroom!

  She noticed his cellphone was still open on her nightstand. She grabbed it, closed and locked the bedroom door, and pressed her left thumb against the sensor. When prompted, she put in his code she’d memorized earlier. In seconds she had a secret way into his phone. She tried it to make sure it worked, smiled, and put the phone back exactly where she’d found it. There was no time to snoop now, but someday there would be. And when that day came, she intended to take her time.

  Well. She might not be able to shower with him, but she could make him breakfast. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Right?

  She put on her robe, making sure to tie it so loosely it barely covered her breasts. It would expose them if she leaned over, which she planned to do. She grinned. There was no law against using what she had to lure him to stay. Right?

  She saw two condom wrappers on the floor and snatched them up. She went into the living room and found the one from their first time. It was near her lucky couch, and she wrote a tiny number one on it so the wrappers wouldn’t get mixed up. She tucked all three under a book on the shelf.

  She’d paste them into her Sean scrapbook after he left.

  Unfortunately, Sean was a stickler about condoms, which was going to make getting pregnant with his child more difficult. Not impossible though. It was nothing a few pinpricks in a condom wouldn’t fix, but still, it’d be easier if he were more careless.

  She hurried into the kitchen hoping he took long showers. She wanted breakfast to be on the table before he came out. She put on a pot of coffee and opened her refrigerator. She had no eggs. No bacon. No sausage. She checked the cupboards. There was no pancake mix, no cereal, no bagels…But wait! She ran back to the freezer, rummaging frantically. There! She pulled out her prize—an opened, freezer-burned package of frozen pancakes. She was saved.

  There were nine small pancakes left in the box, and she thought she’d make them all. She brushed the ice crystals off, stacked them high on a plate, and tossed the lot in the microwave for two minutes.

  What else could she make?

  Why didn’t she have a juicer? And some oranges? Fresh squeezed orange juice would be perfect. In romance novels, the heroines always seemed to have fresh squeezed orange juice to serve the morning after. She should’ve planned ahead.

  …Toast! She’d make toast. Pancakes, coffee, and toast. Breakfast of champions.

  She put four pieces of wheat bread in the toaster oven and began to whistle. This was a perfect morning. A much better way to wake up than facing Jeremy in her shower. She marveled at what a day could do. Yesterday was Jeremy, but today, today was Sean.

  “What’cha making?” Sean asked. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He was not quite six feet tall, a good nine inches taller than herself, and it felt like the perfect difference in height. He could see over the top of her head, and she felt petite and protected in his arms.

  “Toast and pancakes,” Ruby said. She turned, stood on tiptoe, took his face in her hands, and gave him a long, lingering kiss, gently guiding him away from his slurp and slobber until she felt her breathing quicken. Much better! The microwave beeped, and she pulled away reluctantly. “Actually, could you please get the pancakes? They should be about done.”

  He checked them. “They’re still kinda frozen. I’ll put ‘em in for another minute.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. Simon would have announced, “These aren’t done yet,” and she would’ve had to restart the microwave herself. But Sean was just so thoughtful.

  He fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. He wore his clothes from last night, but his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his white tank top underneath.

  The microwave stopped and Sean checked the pancakes again. “They’re almost done,” he promised with a smile as he reset it again. “Where’s your syrup? I’ll set the table.”

  “I have to get it. I used the last of it, so I bought a huge bottle at Berry’s and never brought it in from the garage. Why don’t you get out the butter and jam for the toast while I fetch it,” she said.

  She opened the garage door, flipped on the light, and had started down the steps when she saw her ruined car. It all came back to her. She felt the color drain from her face, as she whipped around and slammed the door behind her. She leaned against it for a moment, breathing heavily, as fresh horror washed over her.

  Her alibi.

  Gone.

  Poof.

  Out of her head because Sean had called and asked her out on a date. How could she have forgotten, even for a moment, much less an entire night, what she had done? She was so fucking screwed now.

  And what if Sean had just seen her car? He could never know what kind of vehicle she drove, much less see the damage. What if the police told him they were looking for a pink Mini Cooper?

  She didn’t think he’d seen anything, but she had to hustle, or Sean just might come into the garage to find her. She snatched up the syrup, hands shaking, went to the door and put her ear to it. She didn’t hear anything. She turned off the light and cracked the door. Sean was sitting across the room at the table, his back to her. She hurried back inside, making certain to lock the door behind her.

  “Ta-da!” she said, holding the syrup aloft and breathing heavily.

  “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, taking it from her.

  She waved a hand at him. “I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

/>   Sean’s ears turned red. “Everything’s ready,” he said, gesturing at the full table he’d set for them. He grabbed the coffee pot. “Would you like some?” he asked.

  She put her hand to her chest. “Thank you. How sweet.”

  “You made the breakfast. It’s the least I could do.”

  He pulled out her chair, and then pushed her into the table. Ruby hugged herself, thoroughly enchanted. No man had ever made her feel so special, and she never wanted this feeling to end. How could she ever live without him again? He was too good to be true.

  ▬▬▬

  The pancakes were mealy and unpleasant, but Sean devoured them without complaint. At least the toast was fine. After they finished eating Sean said, “Would you mind if I checked the news before I leave?”

  She bit her lip. “No. That’s fine.” She hoped they wouldn’t show footage of Tara’s accident. She didn’t want their perfect date to be spoiled.

  He turned on the TV, and she went into her bedroom and got dressed. She had to go check the neighbor’s yard for bits of Tara as soon as he left, and she also had to somehow get rid of her car today, but she wanted to look good for Sean. She put on her favorite jeans and a periwinkle sweater that she knew looked especially nice with her blue eyes. She wore socks but no shoes, so when she padded back into the living room, she did so silently.

  She was shocked at what she found. Sean sat on her couch, face white, mouth gaping, openly weeping.

  Aw hell. They must have run footage of the accident after all. Why couldn’t she ever catch a break? “…What’s wrong?” she asked, hoping she’d gotten the tone of concern right as she hurried over to him.

  “It’s Tara—she’s dead!” He gestured at the TV. “They said she got hit.” He swallowed hard and his voice broke, “Hit by a car last night.”

  “Tara who? …Not your ex-girlfriend?” She sat down on the couch beside him and focused on the television.

  He nodded, and she put her arm around his shoulders and gathered him close. “I’m so sorry!” she said, stroking his hair. “Was it a drunk driver? Were they arrested?”

  “No. It was a hit-and-run,” he whispered. “I can’t believe this—I just talked to her yesterday right before she left work. Right before she died.” He swiped at his eyes. “I just wish I’d known it was the last time I’d ever speak to her.”

  Ruby calculated in her head. So, he’d spoken to her about 4:30 yesterday. “I thought you two broke up?”

  “We did, but I tried to convince her to try—” he stopped talking suddenly and broke out of her embrace, refusing to meet her eyes. “Nothing,” he said. “I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

  Ruby placed her hands in her lap. She thought she understood the situation perfectly. He’d called Tara to try and reconcile, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d called up good ol’ consolation prize, Ruby. “I see. So last night was just…” she trailed off, feeling hollow inside.

  He looked incredibly sad, and older, suddenly. “No. Last night was great. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m glad we had last night, and I hope we have more to come. Okay?”

  Ruby nodded, not trusting her voice. He was paying her lip service after a night of fun. If Tara were still alive, would she ever see him again? And for that matter, would she ever see him again after he left this morning? He hadn’t set anything up with her yet.

  “Please don’t be upset Ruby.”

  “Why would I be upset?”

  He grabbed her hand and held on.

  He flipped to a different station, and they watched the local news in silence until the story on Tara came up. A blonde newscaster said, “The police need your help today in finding the driver who killed a young woman, Tara Dabler, last night in a hit-and-run, on busy Harrison Avenue in Calua.”

  “Police are saying that this is no ordinary hit and run. There were no skid marks in the road indicating that the driver tried to stop, and eyewitnesses are calling this cold-blooded murder.”

  Eyewitnesses? There were eyewitnesses?! Ruby started to sweat, and she knew she looked guilty as hell. Thank goodness Sean was too messed up to notice.

  The newscast cut to footage of a large woman balancing a squirming toddler on her hip. “We was coming home last night, when I seen taillights way up ahead and then they swerved over to the right, real sudden like, and sped off. I didn’t think nothin’ of it ‘til I got closer and seen that poor girl all spread out in the road. It was shameful.”

  They cut back to the blonde newscaster. “That witness was unable to give the police any kind of a description of the vehicle, but another witness, a woman who was out walking her dog and who wishes not to be identified—”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “—says she saw a black or gray Mini Cooper in the vicinity, with a small man inside, dressed in a hoodie. It was dark out at the time, and she only noticed him because the streetlights happened to come on just as she passed his car. Was this the killer lying in wait for his victim? Or an innocent person there for a legitimate reason? The police would like to question this man.”

  Ruby moaned, and when Sean looked at her, she stopped. “It’s just so horrible,” she said.

  Next, they cut over to another woman, identified as Tara’s sister Emma Randall. She cried and pleaded for help in finding, “The monster who’d done this horrible thing!”

  The newscaster came back on. “It you have any information on the white or gray Mini Cooper in question, or the man driving it, or if you have any information at all, please call the Crimestopper’s Tip Line.”

  Ruby struggled to mask her emotions. Obviously, they didn’t have her license plate number, and they thought she was a man in a black or gray car. That was good. It was unfortunate that they’d already gotten the Mini Cooper thing, but at least it wasn’t pink, and they hadn’t mentioned that it was a convertible. She relaxed a little.

  Thank heavens for unreliable eyewitnesses.

  “Who could have done such a vile thing?” Sean asked. “To run someone down and then leave them to die in the street like garbage…Tara was a good woman. She didn’t deserve—”

  “Maybe it was an accident.”

  “What?”

  Ruby cleared her throat and plowed ahead. “Maybe the driver panicked. Hit Tara by accident and she, he panicked. I could see that.”

  “No!” He wiped his eyes again, stood and began to pace. “You heard—this was deliberate! And, if you accidentally hit someone, you stop, call 911, and render aid. You start CPR. You hold their hand. You comfort them. You deal with the consequences. You don’t flee the scene like a coward!” He wagged his pointed finger as his voice rose with fury. “There were no skid marks in the road! This person didn’t even try to stop! They just mowed her down!”

  Ruby leaned away from him and said, quietly, “Why are you screaming at me? I didn’t kill her.”

  Sean’s face crumpled. He sat, patted her shoulder once, put his head in his hands, and began to sob. “I’m sorry.”

  Ruby sat beside him rubbing his back and making shushing sounds until he was calm.

  He did not lift his head. “Tara helped little kids. Everyone liked her. No one would want her dead.”

  Ruby fixed her face and said, “Are you going to go to her funeral?”

  His head popped up. “I’d like to, but her parents are dead, and I don’t know who’s making the arrangements.”

  “Probably her sister. Call the hospital. Or…” she hesitated over the word and finally blurted it out, “the morgue. They’d probably know.”

  He nodded, weeping again.

  Snap out of it! Why was he so upset about the death of a woman he’d only dated a few times? “Were you in love with her?” she snapped.

  “What?”

  “Were you—”

  “No!” he said, matching her tone, “But she was my friend. I cared about her…and now she’s gone. …I don’t think I can go in today.”

  He needed to calm down. She could calm him
down and make him forget Tara in one fell swoop…if she had the guts.

  Sean leaned his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. “I don’t believe this—”

  Ruby knelt between his legs and unzipped his pants.

  She heard him gasp. When she reached inside his underwear, he opened his eyes wide, looking shocked. “What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing at her wrist.

  Ruby was undeterred. “I’m cheering you up,” she said, leaning down and taking him, limp, into her mouth.

  He let go of her wrist and tried to sit up, but Ruby shoved him gently back down with her arm. He tried to push her away, but she refused to budge. “Stop it!” he said, but his body told her a different story.

  “Ruby,” he panted, “This is…totally—inappropriate. I—” his breath caught, and he stopped pushing her away and lay back again, moaning.

  She pulled her head up, and he grabbed the back of her neck to keep her in place.

  She resumed her task with renewed vigor. He was hers all right. Mind, body, and spirit.

  CHAPTER 20

  When Ruby returned from checking her neighbor’s yard for blood from last night (she hadn’t seen any, but she’d sprayed the driveway and yard down once more for good measure), her cell phone rang. She saw Hilary’s number and grinned. “Nine-fifteen,” she said. “You’re slipping.”

  “I had to give him time to leave! So, what happened?”

  And with a sigh of pleasure, Ruby told her.

  “Afterwards, he seemed embarrassed. Kind of shy,” Ruby said. She put her cellphone on speaker, set it on the counter, and turned the hot water on in the kitchen sink. “He wouldn’t look at me, and I was afraid I’d offended him, but he kissed me good-bye and promised to call me tonight. We just clicked. It was magical.”

  “That’s a little creepy, you doing that right after he found out his girlfriend died,” Hilary said.

  “She wasn’t his girlfriend! They were broken up.”

  “Still…”

  “You weren’t there so you wouldn’t know. It wasn’t creepy at all. I took his mind off his sorrow is all, and he enjoyed it.”