Before she could answer, Sean put his hand on her knee and said, “I’m sorry. This is Ruby. Ruby, my brother Nick.”
“So, this is Ruby, huh?” Nick said, raising his eyebrows and smiling at Sean, who immediately blushed deep red and nodded his head, sharply, once. She swung her gaze from one man to the other. What did that mean? Was it some kind of signal? What had Sean told his brother about her? Thank goodness she was bugging their conversation later.
Nick reached across the coffee table and gave her hand a quick shake, and she took the opportunity to study him. This close up, his face was more similar to Sean’s than she’d originally thought—just a little ‘off,’ but their body types were totally different. Sean was tall and thin and strong and graceful. He reminded her of a dancer or a middle-distance runner, while Nick was sturdy and squat, with big muscles and a thick neck. Like a wrestler.
Ruby realized that the entire time she’d been studying his face, Nick had been studying Sean’s hand on her knee.
“So, are they from your stalker?” she said.
Sean handed the note to her. While she read the words she’d written only a few hours earlier, he said, “Looks like it. Man, she’s really scaring me.” He nudged her arm with his elbow. “Were they here when you arrived? Did you notice them in the bushes?”
“No. But I wasn’t looking for them, either. Sorry.”
“You should go to the police,” Nick said to Sean. “You should’ve listened to me when this whole thing first started.”
“Excuse me,” Ruby interrupted, “but why would you go to the police because someone has a crush on you? All she did was leave you some flowers. You should be flattered. It’s not like she broke in here or anything.”
Both men just stared at her, and she could feel her face getting hot, but she continued, “It doesn’t seem to me that you have anything here the police would be interested in. And, since you’ve no idea who’s doing this, what do you hope to accomplish?”
Sean’s face was neutral, but Nick’s had reddened considerably. She swallowed hard and said, “Unless, of course, other things have happened that I don’t know about.”
“There’s lots of other—” Nick started to say when Sean’s cellphone rang with a generic ringtone. Sean pulled it out of his pocket, looked at it and grimaced. “Millie,” he muttered.
Ruby narrowed her eyes. Why was that bitch calling and interrupting their date?
Nick picked up the note from the flowers again, ignoring her pointedly. Ruby kicked herself for contradicting his brother like that. Fool! Nick has to like you!
“What’s up?” Sean said into his phone.
Ruby knew she’d committed a faux pas with Nick. She needed to think of a way to fix the damage. While her mind raced, she listened to Sean’s conversation. Even one-sided she got the gist.
“…Oh no! Is it the same thing you had last night?”
“…Poor little guy. Did you give him anything?”
His tone became wary. “…Oookaay. And what does that have to do with me?”
He glanced over at Ruby, smiled weakly at her, turned his back, and lowered his voice. Ruby strained, without moving a muscle, to hear him. “…Ordinarily that wouldn’t be a problem, but right now I’m kind of busy.”
“…That’s not fair,” he said, sounding annoyed. “You know I’m never too busy for Danny, but I have someone here. What about Holly? Couldn’t she—”
“…I don’t think that’s any of your—”
“…I do have respect!” Sean exclaimed; his fury palpable. “She broke up with me before she died, and you didn’t like her anyway, so spare me your phony concern.”
“No. No. …Bottom line? Who I see is really not your business anymore.”
Sean glanced quickly over his shoulder at her, and Ruby pretended interest in her fingernails. He finally said, “…Oh all right. But how about this. I’ll go to the store and pick up the medicine and bring it to you. That’s easier—”
He sighed. “…I’m not getting into this with—”
“…Fine. I’ll be over in a few. Bye,” he said, and hung up.
He stared at the ground as he walked over to Ruby, who was doing a slow burn. Wifey Poo says, “Jump!” and he jumps.
“Ruby, I’m so sorry. That was my ex—”
“I got that. How’s Danny?”
“He’s got the flu. She needs to pick up some medicine for him and a few other things, so she asked me to watch him for a half hour or so. I said I would. Do you mind? Terribly?”
Yes! Yes, she minded! But she made her face stay neutral as she said, “It is what it is. I just hope Danny feels better.” She thought of something. It was already late, and he hadn’t asked her to stay over yet… “Er, I suppose I’ll go home then? Or…” She deliberately trailed off, hoping he’d jump in and invite her to wait for him. He didn’t disappoint her.
“You’re welcome to stay here,” he said. “I shouldn’t be gone more than forty-five minutes at the most.”
“Then I’ll stay,” she said. She looked at Nick, and he didn’t look happy.
“Tell Danny I’ll stop by tomorrow with a present for the sickie,” Nick said, as Sean put his coat on.
“I will,” Sean said. He gave Ruby a long kiss. “Thanks for not minding. I’ll see you soon.”
“I can’t wait,” she murmured. He grabbed his keys and left the house.
As soon as they heard the front door close, Nick stood up, stretched, and said, “You’re welcome to watch a movie or something while you wait, but I’m going out again soon, and I’ve got stuff I could do—”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d stay here and talk to me for a bit.”
He glanced at her curiously and slowly sat back down. “I suppose I could. What do you want to talk about?”
Sean, you doofus! But she smiled pleasantly and said, “I just think we should get to know each other because Sean and I will be seeing so much of each other from now on.”
“How long have you two been dating? I thought…” he trailed off. “It’s just, you seem so familiar with each other already.”
Ruby smiled with satisfaction. That’s because we’re soulmates! “We just went on our first real date two days ago, but we were close friends back in college. We go way back.”
His face cleared. “That explains it then. I suppose you’ve heard about…” he looked around furtively. “Tara?”
She chewed on her thumbnail. “Sean was with me when he heard the news.”
“Tara was a sweetie. A really good person.” He leaned forward and picked up one of the mangled roses from the coffee table and smelled it. “I was actually the one who introduced them.” He glanced at her from between his eyelashes to gauge her reaction.
“Really?” she said. Was he trying to warn her off? Why would he do that? He didn’t even know her.
“Yeah. They were good together.”
“What a senseless tragedy,” she said. Why was he belaboring this point?
He sighed and put the rose down. “The reason I was so angry before was because Ashley actually called Tara before she died and—”
She’d forgotten about the herpes call! “Sean told me,” she said. “How strange.”
“And you don’t know the half of it. Earlier today, two detectives came by.”
Ruby sat up and leaned forward. “Again? What did they want?”
He crossed his arms. “Like I said, they wanted to question him about Tara’s death. I warned him not to say anything, but he didn’t listen to me. He said he had nothing to hide. Brave, but stupid.”
“He isn’t a suspect, is he?”
“They said no, but he totally is. I’m just glad he had an alibi for the time of Tara’s death, because on paper, he looks guilty as hell.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’d broken up the day before, and then, just hours before she died, they had a fight on the phone, which was witnessed by her coworkers.”
“What was his alibi? What had they fought a
bout?” A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She hoped his alibi was ironclad. Of course, he’d be the natural suspect.
“I don’t know what they fought about,” Nick said. He refused to meet her eyes and she could tell he was lying. “But he was with me at the time she died. We were in Sammy’s, and he was drowning his sorrows…” he looked uncomfortable again, and she realized he’d been in the bar with his brother, trying to forget Tara, only a few hours before he’d asked her out and they’d made love.
On their first date.
She blinked back threatened tears—she would not cry in front of this man.
“It doesn’t matter why we were there. It only matters that I was with him, he has receipts, and about twenty other patrons can confirm he was there. So, he won’t be railroaded for her death.”
“Thank goodness.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You know, you seem awfully familiar to me for some reason. Do we know each other? I thought I recognized your voice, and I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out where I could have met you before.”
He was the one who identified Ashley’s voice, which he recognized because she’d talked to him on the phone recently. Hopefully he wouldn’t make the connection. “No, I’ve never met you before, I’m sure of it. I have one of those generic voices that comes from growing up in Southern California. No accent.…Are you going to Tara’s funeral?”
He allowed her to change the subject. “Yeah, but I’m really dreading it. They creep me out. I’ll have to come home afterwards and get really drunk.”
And suddenly an idea hit Ruby’s head fully formed. Now if only she could work this out…
“After the funeral, Sean was supposed to come to my house for a small dinner party, but the guest of honor’s plans changed, and I have to cancel it now,” Ruby said.
“Okay,” Nick said. The look on his face said, “Why are you telling me this?”
She smiled. “I do have a point! I know Sean’s birthday is on Sunday, and he’s already sad about Tara, and he’ll likely be bummed after the funeral on Saturday. I haven’t canceled the party yet, so I thought, hey, why not make it a surprise birthday party for him that night? We could celebrate his birthday and cheer him up at the same time.”
“That sounds nice,” Nick said. “He’d love a party. He’s never been one to blow off his birthday. He starts reminding us about it weeks in advance, and hinting at presents. Actually, I know he’d love it.”
Ruby’s eyes shone with triumph. “If I do this, I’ll need your help. I don’t know any of his friends, so you’ll have to invite them for me, and there’s only two days before the party. I have to shop and prepare…”
“Sure. I’ll help. How many people you wanna invite? Just a few or—”
“Everyone! Invite everyone who means anything to him, and everyone who even might mean something to him. The more the merrier.”
She could picture it in her head. Old friends, new friends, a big bash just for him. He’d never be able to repay her, and he’d have to realize how special she was. What a great catch she was. How thoughtful she was. He’d forget all about being sad about what’s-her-name.
She’d missed part of what Nick was saying. “—popular. It could easily be thirty people even on short notice. You sure you can handle that?”
“Easily. Leave everything to me. But please, don’t tell him anything about it. I want this to be a big surprise.”
“I promise.” He looked at his watch again. “It’s after eleven! Wow, I’m supposed to meet Libby at 11:30.” He stood up. “Sorry. But I promise I’ll start calling people first thing tomorrow.”
He fished in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Gimme your address and phone number so I can keep in touch with you about the details.”
After they exchanged numbers, he said, “Will you be all right here by yourself? Or do you want me to wait? Sean should be back any minute.”
He was going to leave her here alone? How perfect! She could snoop! “Go ahead. I’ll be fine. Really.”
People were so trusting.
Too trusting.
Thank God.
CHAPTER 28
Ruby forced herself to wait a full five minutes after Nick left before she went upstairs to Sean’s room. She figured she had fifteen minutes at the most, and maybe as little as five before Sean returned, and she had no idea what she was looking for. Only that she had to find it quickly.
Sean’s room was a sea of calm in the otherwise overdone house. His walls were white, his comforter, blue, and his matching furniture set was yellow pine.
She glanced around the tiny room and sighed philosophically. At least it would be fast going. Unfortunately, he had no desk or file cabinets. Why didn’t more men keep diaries?
She quickly scanned the titles in the bookcase and took a picture on her phone. They were mostly paperback thrillers and best-selling fiction, along with old college textbooks on physics and math. Lots of math.
His full size bed was still mussed from their earlier lovemaking. She sat on the sheets and opened the drawer in his nightstand. Flashlight, three condoms, and a small ceramic bowl full of loose change. Boring.
She looked under the bed. A pair of in-line skates lying on their sides, a tennis racket, a racquetball racket, a container of fuzzy yellow tennis balls, and a bicycle pump. She stood, stifling a scream at the banality.
His chest was tall and thin with five drawers. Perched on top were two pictures of Danny. One of him as an infant, and one more recent. None of Millicent. None of Tara. None of her.
His top drawer was his underwear drawer and buried beneath a pile of colorful briefs was a little baggie of pot, a bong with Grateful Dead bears dancing on it, and some rolling papers. Now this was interesting. Most people that went to Gibson smoked pot, and she’d smoked it herself on occasion when she was back in college, but she hadn’t known if Sean did. Now she knew.
He also owned quite a few pairs of silky bikini underwear, which wasn’t something she would have guessed about him.
She looked around the room, frowning. Where was his cologne? She wanted to know why he smelled so good. She’d just have to remember to check the bathroom before she left. If that failed, she supposed she could always ask him what it was.
She was just about to open his closet door when she heard the phone ring. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, listening. It rang four times and stopped, and she proceeded.
His closet was shallow, but wide on the left side, and both the top shelf and the floor were piled high with boxes.
Pay dirt.
A large red milk crate from the Gibson Creamery sat on the floor with hundreds of loose photographs in it, and her eyes shone. Pictures! She memorized its exact location in the closet and set it on the bed.
When she turned back around, she noticed that a corner of a large, thin portfolio for carrying artwork had been revealed. It had been hidden in the back of the closet up against the wall.
…Could it be his portfolio from their painting class together nine years ago?
She pushed the clothes on either side of the rail aside and maneuvered the large item out of its hiding place.
She set it on the bed, listened for a moment, then quickly untied the latch and slid all the artwork out. There were about fifty drawings and paintings inside, so he must have taken more than the one art class.
The first twenty or so were drawings of nude models, both male and female from a life drawing course, followed by incredibly detailed pictures of fruits and vegetables done in pen and ink and colored pencil from a representational drawing class. And in the back were the paintings she recognized from the class they’d taken together.
She flipped through the bed sheets propped up on broom handles that she hadn’t been able to paint worth shit because she’d been so distracted by him, but his were good, and the still life with the brush and the old boot that she probably still had her own painting of someplace in her garage, and…
>
She caught her breath. His self-portrait! He’d kept his self-portrait! She touched it reverently. Oh, how she’d wanted to steal this from him at the time. He’d really captured himself, and if she would have had the courage to ask him for it, she would have gotten it framed. It was a picture of him, painted by him, which made it doubly special. She wanted it badly. What were the odds he’d ever notice it was missing? How often could he really look at his old stuff? And even if he did someday notice it was missing, why would he suspect her of taking it? She set it aside on the bed and gasped when she saw the next painting down.
It was a portrait of her! Half the class got to choose a partner to paint, and he’d chosen her. But in the next class when it had been time to switch, he’d been absent. She remembered her bitter disappointment when she’d had to paint some random dude—she blinked at the sudden realization that the random dude she’d been forced to paint that day had been Simon.
What a weird coincidence…
She shivered, feeling unsettled. But when she took a second look at Sean’s picture of her, she smiled wide again. He had the soul of an artist.
How could she have forgotten this? What other important things had she forgotten?
She set it aside with his self-portrait, and when she saw what was underneath, she blinked back happy tears. It was her bird picture.
She’d painted a colorful, whimsical picture of a flamingo, and he’d complimented her on it so extensively, that she’d offered it to him, even though, at the time, it had been her favorite thing she’d ever painted.
It was battered and dusty, with tack holes in the corners and folded over tape on the sides, so he’d obviously had it hanging in his house for some time. Even though he’d taken it down, he hadn’t thrown it away. That proved he’d thought of her in those nine missing years. He had. He just needed to be reminded. She wiped her eyes with shaking hands.
She put all three paintings in order with the others, retied the portfolio, put it back where she’d found it, and pushed his clothes back into place.
Someday soon, she’d reminisce about painting class and ask him if he’d kept any of his old artwork. He’d say yes, pull out his portfolio, and they’d discover, together, the stuff she’d found. And this time, she wouldn’t be shy about asking for what she wanted.
Drawn To You: A Psychological thriller Page 25
