He loved her? He didn’t even know her. She glanced over at the house next door. The front door was wide open, a duffel bag and three boxes sat on the porch, and Jeremy’s SUV was parked in the driveway. He must be moving the rest of his stuff in right now.
Jeremy came to his door and waved and she immediately crab crawled back inside and kicked the door shut. She stayed like that for a second, breathing hard, before she jumped up, yanked open the door, grabbed the roses and practically dove back inside. She locked the door behind her, heart pounding in her chest.
That was close.
…Why had she run in here like a scared rabbit? She wasn’t afraid of Jeremy. She resolutely ignored the prickle of shame that told her differently.
She set the roses on the counter as the phone rang. Nope. She flipped the ringer off for the night. Tomorrow she was dumping her landline for good, and this was the only way she’d get any sleep.
She shivered. There was no way she was taking the trash out with Jeremy right outside.
She spent a few minutes rearranging the roses in the vase just so, then stood back and admired them. Thirty-six roses.
Why couldn’t a normal man send her flowers?
▬▬▬
The next morning, Ruby was up with the sun, but she still didn’t manage to get her trash to the curb in time for pick up. She carried both bags into her backyard where they’d have to wait a whole week for another chance.
She made a list of all she had to do today. She needed to call the locksmith, cancel her landline, look into new housing, and get Hilary to install her new doorbell camera, door chain, and safe. If she had time, she also wanted to go to the gun range to practice. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night knowing Jeremy was just a stone’s throw away.
That policeman she’d dated—what had his name been, anyway? She drew a blank. It was going to drive her crazy—Brock! That was it. Brock would be appalled to know that not only had she never cleaned the gun after the last time they’d been to the range, but also she hadn’t bothered to practice shooting it on her own even once in the past six months. He’d pounded it into her head that a gun you weren’t prepared to use was worthless, and with Jeremy stalking her…she couldn’t afford a worthless gun.
She set out a thick, olive-colored sweater and khakis and went to take a shower.
She turned on the water, got undressed, and spent a few moments inspecting her neck in the mirror. She was glad that stupid hickey was finally gone. She stood, shivering and checking the water with her hand until it was finally hot enough. She hated the low water pressure in this house. One more reason to move.
She lathered, rinsed, and lathered again. She closed her eyes and let the warm water run over her face as she waited the five minutes before she could rinse out her deep conditioner. She should shave her legs—
What was that? She opened her eyes and listened intently, straining to hear whatever had alarmed her. She bit her lip in concentration, heart thumping as she thought about the movie “Psycho.” She didn’t hear anything else, and after a moment she relaxed. How stupid. Jeremy had her so freaked out she was jumping at shadows now.
She had just closed her eyes again when she heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall.
Footsteps? Her throat closed. Had she locked the bathroom door? She frantically searched the tub for a weapon, finding nothing useful. “H-H-Hilary?” she called out as the bathroom door opened. She held her breath, turned off the water, and felt her adrenaline kick in as time slowed down and her mind laser focused. She clutched the shower curtain to her body with one shaking hand and picked up the soap with her other.
Suddenly, the curtain was torn away and peeled back, and she heaved the soap at a man’s head. It bounced off and did nothing, but he put his hands up and stepped back, and Ruby took advantage of this, snatched up the shampoo and started beating him with the bottle. She finally recognized him.
“Jeremy?” She lowered the bottle. “What the—”
“Ruby! I’m so glad you’re all right!”
Ruby fought to catch her breath as her energy surged. She noticed him gazing hungrily at her naked body and she threw the bottle at his face, covered her breasts with her hands, and scrambled out of the tub, leaving pools of water in her wake. She pulled her robe off the back of the door, turned her back, and dragged it around herself without drying off. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“I was worried—”
She held the robe closed with one hand, lunged at him, and shoved him out the bathroom door. “How dare you break in here! Get out!”
She swiped at a drip of conditioned water that was running into her eye, as she backed Jeremy down the hall. He made placating gestures and she stalked after him, oblivious to her water trail. “Calm down, Ruby,” he said. “I didn’t break in—”
“Oh yes you did! My doors were locked. I even had the deadbolts on.” She broke away from him towards her cellphone, which was charging on the little table beside the front door. “I’m calling the police.”
She picked up her cell, and Jeremy smacked it out of her hand. He kept coming and backed her into the wall. He loomed over her and she shrank back, putting her hands up to ward him off. “What do you want?”
He looked over at the vase of flowers on her kitchen counter and back at her.
“What?”.
“You clearly loved my gift, yet you keep sending me mixed signals.”
“Mixed signals? Because I didn’t toss your roses? I’ve ‘clearly’ told you to leave me alone. ‘Clearly’ told you I’m not interested—”
His face twisted and he raised his fist. She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for the blow. She was a tiny woman wearing only a robe. He outweighed her by a good seventy-five pounds. She remembered how easily he’d overpowered her on his couch. When the blow didn’t come, she opened her eyes, slowly peeled away from the wall, and backed into the living room. He followed her. “Please,” she said. She heard her voice quavering and struggled to control it. “Please go. I…I want you to go now.”
Jeremy reached out his hand and stroked the lapel of her robe. “Soft,” he said. She swallowed hard, and backed up another step, dislodging his hand. His eyes were hooded, and the silence stretched between them until she almost couldn’t stand it anymore. “What do you want?” she finally said.
“We need to talk. Go finish your shower and get dressed. I’ll wait.” She pulled her robe tighter around her and he smirked. “Relax. I’m harmless.”
He sat down on her couch. Her new Sean wedding scrapbook was lying on her coffee table, right where she’d left it last night. He picked it up. “Uh—what?” she said, watching him.
“Go. I’ll amuse myself somehow.” He turned the scrapbook over and looked at the flowers on the cover, but he didn’t open it. “We’ll talk when you’re done.”
She watched him holding her scrapbook with a kind of horrified fascination. She was going to vomit. She couldn’t allow him to open it. “I make a mean omelet,” he was saying. “You hungry?”
She gathered her courage, snatched the scrapbook out of his grasp and shoved it into place on her bookshelf. “I’m not showering with you in my house. Get out of here!” He settled himself back on the couch and shook his head, and her alarm rose another notch. What if he refused to leave? “D…d…did you hear me? Go on now, go!” She pointed at the front door.
“Listen. This is a big misunderstanding. I called and called, and you just ignored me—”
“It’s called screening your calls.” His face darkened and she swallowed hard.
“On one of my messages I left, I told you I was going to come over today. That we needed to talk. So, let’s talk.”
She crossed her arms. “It’s 7:30 in the morning. Perhaps you could’ve broken in a bit later in the day?”
He stood up and she stepped back. “I told you, I didn’t break in here! I knocked and no one answered, but your car was here, so I knew you were home. I fi
gured you might be hurt and unable to get to the door, and as your landlord, I do have keys to your place. Luckily, I didn’t have to use them. When I tried your door, it was unlocked, and the rest is history.”
Her robe started to gape so Ruby retied the sash and put her hands on her hips in a power pose she’d read about. Her head was beginning to itch, and she shivered as her wet skin cooled. “What a crock of shit. People sleep in, and I know that door was locked. I locked it. It’s illegal for you to use your keys to come in here—”
“No, actually it’s not. I can come in whenever I want.”
“No! Actually, this is my private home.”
“Read your lease,” Jeremy said. “But as I said, I didn’t have to resort to that because your door was unlocked. You probably forgot to lock it back after you took your trash out this morning.”
Goosebumps broke out on her arms. “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch me? Don’t you ever have to go to work or anything?”
He blushed. “I just happened to see you. I wasn’t watching you. But that’s why I got so worried when you didn’t answer the door. I knew you were awake. It didn’t even occur to me that you might be in the shower—”
“Even if my front door had been left wide open, that wouldn’t be an invitation. You can’t come in here without my permission. We’re not friends.” She stabbed the air with her finger on each of the last three words to drive her point home. “
“Making sure you were safe was my only concern,” he said solemnly.
“You’re only concern was seeing me naked! There was steam and running water, and I called out for Hilary…” she remembered something else. “And speaking of Hilary, pretending to have car trouble to try and trick her into giving you information about me isn’t okay either.”
“His face turned bright red. “…What?”
“The other day. And I know you stole my keys, too.”
“I don’t need to steal keys,” he said, face thunderous. “As your landlord.”
“There were other keys on—” She swallowed the words, forcing herself to stop talking. This was pointless. She dodged around him, snatched her phone off the floor, raced behind her kitchen island, and had dialed 911 before he could catch her.
She hit speaker as he made a wild grab across the island for the phone. She scrambled back as they both heard the dispatcher say, “911, what is your emergency?”
Ruby kept her gaze on him. “My neighbor broke into my house while I was showering and refuses to leave. I’m afraid for my life.”
“Bullshit,” Jeremy snapped, rolling his eyes. “Complete bullshit.”
“Ma’am, is he still inside your residence? Does he have a weapon? Can you get to safety?”
“Bullshit!” he said again, as he turned and stalked towards the front door. “You’re going to regret this.”
“Ma’am?” said the dispatcher again.
Ruby started to shake. “Get out! I want you out of here! Get out! Get out! Get Out!” He threw open her front door and stepped onto her deck. Emboldened by the help on the other end of the phone line, she charged after him, slammed the door and shot the deadbolt home.
She needed to find a new place ASAP.
The dispatcher was still talking, calmly. “Ma’am? I’ve dispatched the police—”
“Never mind,” Ruby said into the phone. Her heart was pounding so hard she feared she would have a stroke. She dropped onto the couch. “He’s gone. I’m okay.”
“Are you safe?” the dispatcher said. “Did he harm you?”
Ruby thought she heard a siren. “No, I’m okay.” She stayed on the phone with the dispatcher, threw on some panties and leggings, and waited for the police.
CHAPTER 15
Ruby opened the door for the policeman and stepped back to let him in. He had thick brown hair and a handsome face marred only by tiny, closely spaced eyes. Ruby became aware that she was biting her thumbnail again and forced herself to stop. She rubbed her upper arms. “Thank you for coming so quickly, but he’s gone now. I’m okay,” she said.
The officer, whose name tag said P. Kipling, took out a notebook and pen. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’m having, well, I’ve been having problems with my neighbor, who I just found out is my landlord. …It’s complicated. He just moved in next door. Well, actually, I think he’s still moving in, but I’ve known him for about a week, and I went out on one date with him last…Wednesday, I believe? Anyway, he’s been pestering me constantly, and this morning he broke in here while I was showering and opened up the shower curtain.”
Officer Kipling was all business as he looked her over quickly. “May I have your name ma’am?”
“It’s Ruby Deardon. That’s D-e-a…”
“I’ve got it, Ms. Deardon.” Officer Kipling said. “Your neighbor’s name?”
“Jeremy Van der Wyden,” she said, slowly and clearly. He didn’t ask her to spell it. He stopped writing and held her gaze as he said, “Did he sexually assault you?”
She put her hand to her throat. “Er, well no. He didn’t rape me, but he certainly scared me to death.”
“Did he hit you or threaten you?”
Ruby thought about it. “No. But he did say I was “going to regret” calling the police—which I totally don’t regret by the way—but anyway, he broke in here and got his kicks, and I want him arrested.”
“Let me get some more information first. Tell me what happened today.”
Ruby walked him down the hall past the puddles on the floor, to the bathroom, where she told him her story while he took copious notes. He took notice of the shampoo bottle and the soap and the water on the floor and the way the shower curtain was nearly torn off of its rings. He made note of her still soapy hair and her wet robe as well.
When he was finished, she led him back into the living room. “You mentioned that he’s your landlord but it’s complicated. Complicated how?” he said.
“I dealt with another manager altogether and had no idea Jeremy owned this house when I moved in,” Ruby said. “I found out a couple days ago—after the harassment had already started.”
“He has a key?”
“Yes! He admitted it. He has my car key as well.” She told the officer about how he’d pretended to have car trouble and tricked Hilary, and about her missing keys.
“But you have no proof he even took them, much less used those keys to get in here?”
Ruby narrowed her eyes. “No, I suppose he could have used his own set. I saw no signs of forced entry.” She opened the front door, and they both checked the door frame and lock. “See?”
He rubbed his hand along the frame. “You’re certain you locked it?”
His condescending tone set her teeth on edge. “Yes. It’s a habit from my years in San Francisco, and I remember checking before I got in the shower.”
He nodded and read over what he’d written down. “Was anything taken?”
“No, I don’t think he stole anything,” Ruby said, looking around quickly. Kipling didn’t seem to be taking this very seriously. “So, you’re going to arrest him?”
“I have a few more questions first. Did he say why he came inside? He didn’t steal anything, he didn’t rape you or harm you, I assume he left when you asked him to—right?”
“No. He left when I called 911.”
“You said you dated him. Are you two still involved? Is this just a domestic problem?”
“What is this? I went out with him one time. Once!” Ruby hated the desperation she heard in her voice. She took a deep breath before continuing. “That was all it took to realize he was a psycho. He broke into my house! This isn’t just some “domestic” dispute, and even if it was, I’d still want you to do something about it. You’re the police for crying out loud!”
“Ma’am, you need to calm down.” His hand settled on his gun.
Ruby crossed her arms and took another deep breath. “I’m calm.”
He took his hand off h
is gun. “This doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Did he give you a reason for coming inside?”
Ruby didn’t want to tell him what Jeremy had said because it falsely made him look too good. “Why don’t you ask him when you arrest him? He’s right next door.”
At the officer’s look she relented. “Because he’s harassing me, that’s why.”
He took her driver’s license and called it in to dispatch. A minute later, Ruby went rigid as the dispatcher read her own record back to the policeman. One count of stalking, one count of breaking and entering. When Kipling turned back towards her, she sensed he was no longer taking her seriously. He handed back her license and started to put his notebook away.
“Those charges were dropped,” she said, unable to help herself.
Kipling nodded. “That has nothing to do with what happened this morning. I’m the victim here.” He nodded again and stepped towards the door. Ruby moved to block his exit. “Look, my record’s not the problem—don’t you see that? Does he have a record?”
He shrugged. “Let’s see…It’s Jeremy Van der Wyden you say?” At her nod, he said, “Do you happen to know his date of birth?”
“Why would I know that? …Mid-to-late twenties, I guess?”
“Do you know his address?”
“Yeah, right next door to me!” she said, pointing out the front window. “Well, and Jasmine Drive, over by the college.…And probably others as well—he said he owned a lot of property in town.”
Officer Kipling walked away from her and called dispatch again. “Do you have anything on a Jeremy Van der Wyden?” he said softly, turning his back on her and lowering his voice even more. A few minutes later his phone rang. He picked it up and had a short conversation filled with “Uh huh,” and “Right.” He glanced back at her and lowered his voice. “Lauren Cosway? …Okay. Uh huh. Thanks.” He got off the phone and went to the front door.
Drawn To You: A Psychological thriller Page 13