His eyes roamed over her body, and she immediately felt calmer. This, she could work with.
“You’re early,” she said in a flirtatious voice.
He smiled at her. Great smile. “I did that on purpose so I could investigate the scene of the crime with no distractions.”
“Am I a distraction?” Ruby cooed, wondering if this was normal procedure or not. It was just a stolen vehicle. They must happen every day. She tuned back in and only heard the end of his sentence. “—your car?”
“Come again?”
“What happened with your car?” he said, enunciating each word, but still nicely.
She took a deep breath and told him her whole, made-up story again while he took notes. She got the feeling he didn’t believe her, and this made her try and sell it harder. “—and of course, you’d think I’d know where I parked it, but since I use both the garage and my yard equally, I rarely give it much thought. If it’s not in my yard, it’s in the garage and vice versa. No big deal. But today when I needed it, my car wasn’t in either place.”
He looked up from his notes. “You’re saying that your car was stolen yesterday by your neighbor-slash-landlord-slash-ex, who is stalking you, but you didn’t notice it was gone until today?” It was clear he’d just mentally put her in the insurance fraud category.
“Yes. No. Actually, he’s not my ex and I don’t know exactly when it was stolen, just that I parked it in the yard yesterday morning and it was gone by mid-afternoon yesterday. I noticed it wasn’t in the yard, of course, I just didn’t put it together. And I don’t know that Jeremy stole it, I just…think he did…” she shrugged. She watched him, making sure he wrote those critical points down.
“So you’ve said. Why do you think he stole your car?”
She frowned. “You mean his reasoning behind the theft or what makes me think he stole it?” She began to gnaw on her sore cuticles again.
“Both.”
“I think he stole my car because he’s obsessed with me and stalking me. He stole all my keys from my best friend’s house the other night. Monday morning, he broke in here while I was showering—read the police report! And now, the same day I called the police and publicly rejected and humiliated him, my car gets conveniently stolen.” She let her irritation show. “You do the math.”
She glanced at him to see if he was starting to believe her, but Ben’s face remained unchanged. “Do you have any proof?” he said. “Did you see him steal your keys? Did he admit it?”
“No, no, and no. But he did it.”
Ben opened his mouth, but she jumped in before he could speak. “It never occurred to me yesterday when I saw my empty yard that my car could have been stolen because this is Kamata! There’s no crime here.”
“Nonsense,” he said, straightening up to his full, impressive height. “Where there are drugs, there’s crime.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I haven’t even called my insurance company yet. My car’s only a couple month’s old and hopefully I can get a new—” She turned her head and caught Jeremy coming out on his porch.
He shielded his eyes with his hand and watched them. Finally, Jeremy hailed them both. “What’s goin’ on? Everything okay?”
“Fuck,” Ruby mumbled, as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “I told you. He won’t stop.”
Ben looked over at Jeremy. “That’s him? The neighbor you were telling me about?”
Ruby’s mind worked like lightning. Jeremy was a dangerous wildcard. …Maybe she could use Ben to her advantage.
“That’s him. Look around his yard and garage for my car, will you?” She narrowed her eyes. “But take care. He’s an animal.”
“I’ll be right back,” Ben said in a hard voice. He strode across her yard.
Ruby stood uncertainly, surrounded by her groceries, and watched as Jeremy, smiling, came down his front porch steps to meet Ben. She couldn’t hear what was said, but Jeremy screwed up his face, pointed to her and began to yell. She caught the phrase, “—did not break in there!”
“Yes, you did!” she yelled back, in sudden fury. “Yes, you did!”
Ben waved his hand to shush her as he nodded and took notes. Occasionally she heard his voice rumbling, but she couldn’t catch any more of their conversation. They walked around to Jeremy’s backyard and then to his garage. Ruby’s cuticles resembled ground beef by the time Ben made his way back to her.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “He denied it.”
Ben nodded, flipping through his notes. “Your car is not on his property; he denies stealing your keys and says he wasn’t even home yesterday afternoon.”
“He’s lying,” Ruby said. “Those are things I’d expect him to say.”
“He also said he saw you washing your car, here, this morning.”
“What?” She sucked in a deep breath as everything fell apart. If he’d seen the damage to her car she was screwed! Her face must have looked interesting because Ben laid a calming hand on her arm. “That son-of-a-bitch!” she sputtered. “It’s been raining all day—who washes their car in the rain? He’s just trying to cover his own tracks!”
“Could be,” Ben said, staring at her pointedly. “But it wasn’t raining all day. Certainly not this morning.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know he’s lying though, right? Remember, he broke in here yesterday. What’d he say about that?”
“Claimed he came in because he thought you were hurt. The thing is, he’s your landlord and that’s allowable—”
“I didn’t know he was my landlord, and he might not be—it’s just his word, and I always dealt with Mr. Finney! Does Jeremy have to kill me before you take me seriously?”
“I didn’t steal your car, Ruby!” Jeremy yelled from his yard. “I have my own cars!”
“Drop dead, Loser,” Ruby called back.
Jeremy stalked towards her. “I can’t believe you told them I stole it, when I saw you—”
“Freak!” Ruby stepped behind Ben and yelled again, hands over ears, “Freak!”
Ben blocked Jeremy with his body. “I believe the lady asked you to leave her alone.”
Jeremy backed away and got an ingratiating smile on his face. “Of course, you’re just doing your job, but I need to talk to her—”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Ben said, taking another step forward. “If you don’t stop harassing her, I’ll arrest you.”
“But—”
“I’m not asking you again.” Ruby heard the steel in his voice, and she stared at Ben with awe. It must be great being that big and getting to throw your weight around.
Jeremy took another look at the big cop towering over him, turned tail, and went to stand in his open doorway, where he watched them, hands on hips. He might as well have flipped them the bird.
Ruby smiled. Ben was no pussy like that stupid cop from yesterday. Ben got things done. “Thank you so much!” she said.
Ben stared at Jeremy before turning back to her. “What? Oh, you’re welcome. If he comes over here again after I leave, let me know.”
She hoped Jeremy would try to come back. Jail time would do him good.
“Now, let’s get your groceries inside,” Ben said, all smiles again.
“No! Um…you don’t have to help me. I’m sure you need to get back to work.”
Ben grinned. “I am working,” he said. “And besides, what kind of a man would I be if I let you heft all this by yourself?” She picked up three bags while Ben reached down, picked up everything else, and started up her deck steps. She reluctantly followed.
“Thanks.”
She directed him to put the bags on her kitchen counter and swept her eyes around the room, looking for anything suspicious. Her muddy backpack was beside the front door, but she’d make him get a warrant before opening it.
Ben ignored it.
She walked him out, glanced next door, and blew out her breath in annoyance. Jeremy was such an ass. She nudged Ben.
“Look at him. That’s what I’m talking about. Look what I have to deal with.”
Jeremy must have run inside his house when they took her groceries inside, because now he was sitting on his porch in a lawn chair. He raised a glass to them in a mock toast and smirked.
“Can’t you do something?” she said. “He’s totally mocking us.”
Ben shrugged. “He’s not doing anything illegal; he’s just being a bung-hole. Ignore him. He’s trying to get a rise out of you. He probably considers any response from you better than nothing.”
“Good point. Thanks again,” she said. She put out her hand to shake his. Ben was an interesting man.
“No problem.” His hand swallowed hers. He let go and grinned and she thought he might ask her out and hoped he didn’t. He was cute but she had Sean now and there was no comparison.
Instead, he said, “Before I go, I need to have a quick look at your garage so I can finish my report.”
She began to sweat. “Of course.”
Because she had no choice, she unlocked her garage door, pulled it up and pulled the chain light. The bleach smell almost knocked her out, and all she could focus on was the garbage bag full of clues. Her heart was thudding in her chest, but Ben merely stood outside the garage and said, “No car here. Thanks!”
As she pulled the door back down, she heard him raise his voice for Jeremy’s benefit. “Let me know if he bothers you again.”
So there, Jeremy!
Ben took out a business card and scribbled something on the back of it before handing it to her. “This top number’s your report number, but the bottom one is my personal cell. Gimme a call anytime.”
“Thanks,” she said, blushing. “But I have a boyfriend.”
He grinned at her, eyes twinkling, and the combination took her breath away. “Keep it for when you guys break up, then.” Surprised into laughter, she slid it into her pocket and watched him climb back into his cruiser. She liked the way he moved. So graceful for a big man. She stepped up to his car and knocked on his window. He put it down, smiling at her. “Yes?”
“I wanted something else on record.”
He picked up his notebook, flipped it to an open page, and said, “Shoot.”
“Um,” she took a deep breath, leaned close to his window so Jeremy couldn’t hear and murmured, “Jeremy scares me. I’m afraid, living right next to him, especially because he’s my landlord and he can manufacture reasons to come in here any time he wants. What if he retaliates on me for reporting him? What should I do?”
Ben set his notebook aside. “You need to get a restraining order.”
“Isn’t that just a piece of paper?”
“It’s your insurance that this won’t happen again. Do it tomorrow morning!”
“Okay.” He really was forceful. “I was planning on getting one, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Tomorrow.”
She batted her eyelashes at him and said, “I will. Tomorrow.”
She waved, went back inside, and chained the door behind her.
CHAPTER 23
She awoke with a start.
Ruby was on her couch and the sun was high in the sky. What time was it? She sat up and yelped—so sore she could hardly move. She reached for her phone, but it was dead; she must’ve fallen asleep without charging it. She plugged it in.
Everything hurt. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to her feet. She needed painkillers and she needed food, in that order.
…Sean! He hadn’t called since he’d left here the day before yesterday. They’d made love and he’d totally blown her off. She blinked away tears. It was…inconceivable that Sean would ignore her because of Tara. She’d killed Tara. She’d won! She wouldn’t allow that bitch to mess things up for her now.
The clock on the microwave claimed it was already 12:30, which meant she’d been asleep for almost fourteen hours. How was that possible? She thought back to last night. She remembered reading one of her romances, getting pleasantly drowsy, and then waking up fourteen hours later. She didn’t remember falling asleep, nor did she feel rested. She rubbed the goosebumps on her arms, slammed two painkillers, and sat down at her computer.
She had four hundred twenty-seven new emails in her inbox. What the hell?
She clicked a few at random and they were all fan mail from people who’d read the ScuttleBUZZ article and tracked her down. She smiled. This almost guaranteed her more papers. Her usual morning fan email averaged about two, with a previous daily high of nineteen, once, after she’d gone after the former president. This was amazing.
She scrolled through them, eyes shining, reading about every third one and mentally composing the mass thank you she would send out sometime in the next few days. She read, “You suck. You’re the worst cartoonist ever. Drop dead.” She sighed and saved it to her psychos folder. Still…to be the worst cartoonist ever…that was nothing to sneeze at.
She started deleting trash and spam and accidentally deleted one from Rattle Tattle, an app on her phone that took selfie pictures of anyone on her phone who guessed her phone password wrong twice in a row. She restored the email to her inbox, opened it and read, “Someone’s been spying on you! Here’s the culprit. All four pictures were taken on Saturday, October ninth, between 5:12-5:14 p.m. EST.” Saturday? That was…that was the day she’d had coffee with Sean. But she’d left her cell at Hilary’s…She clicked on the attachment, which opened and showed four clear pictures of Jeremy in Hilary’s living room, looking more and more unhinged as he repeatedly tried and failed to guess her password.
She bit her lip as she looked from one disturbing image to the next. That asshole! Thank goodness he hadn’t gotten in. She sent all four pictures to her phone and closed out her email in disgust. Should she send them to officer Kipling or Ben? And what would be the point? The police were actively protecting Jeremy, but they didn’t seem inclined to protect her as well.
She was on hold with her insurance company when there was a knock at her door. It was just after two. Sure, it would be Jeremy, she peered out her peephole and saw two men on her porch dressed similarly in dark slacks, white shirts, ties, and sports jackets. They were both tall and nice looking with razor-cut hair. One had strawberry blonde hair and horn-rimmed glasses, and the other was a balding Black man with a high forehead and full lips.
Two clean cut, well-dressed men on her porch…Mormons. She looked behind them for their bicycles but didn’t see them.
She kept the phone to her ear and opened the door one-handed, leaving the chain on. “Look,” she rasped, before faking a short coughing fit that actually hurt her bleach-sore throat. They took a step back and she winced, rubbing her neck. “Sorry. Flu. You really don’t want to catch this. Also, I’m not interested in your literature, or your BIBLE, and I already have a personal relationship with Jesus.”
The men looked at each other, unsmiling. The blonde man opened his jacket and pulled out a badge.
Ruby frowned. “Are you here about my car? Did you find it? Because I thought I was dealing with Officer Trumpower—”
Baldy said, “What about your car? Who?”
Ruby’s heart dropped as Blondie said, “I’m detective Fung, and this is detective Lange from the Calua Police Department. We’re investigating the death of Tara Dabler. We’d like to come in and ask you a few questions, if we could.”
Ruby felt little beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. It had only been two days! How they hell had they found her so quickly? At that moment, the insurance representative came back on the line. “I’m sorry for the wait, Miss Deardon. May I help you?”
“Something’s come up,” she said, struggling to sound normal. “I’ll have to get back to you later.” She hung up without waiting for a reply.
Ruby knew she didn’t have to let them in, but Jeremy’s car was in his driveway, so she couldn’t talk on her porch, either. What if she refused—would they arrest her? She glanced behind her quickly, to see if she could spot
anything incriminating in her living room.
Her answering machine! It still had that message from Tara—oh shit! And her mud-streaked backpack still sat where she had dropped it, beside the door, but it was zipped up. Unless they had a warrant, she wouldn’t allow them near either. Hell, even if they had a warrant, she’d “accidentally” destroy the machine and toss the tape down the garbage disposal before they could get either.
Nothing else popped out at her, so she opened the door and stood back to usher them in.
“Come on in, but I didn’t know that girl. I never even met her. I can’t imagine how I could possibly help you.”
“You know who we’re talking about, though?” detective Lange asked. His voice was so deep, she had trouble understanding him.
“Of course. I saw it on the news. She was the girl killed in that hit-and-run the other night. She gestured towards the couch. “You can sit.”
They did, and Ruby took in one of the armchairs across from them.
“You said you didn’t know Ms. Dabler,” Lange said.
She nodded. “I don’t.”
“So, why do you think she called her boyfriend, Sean Chaplin, and left a message about you right before she died?”
Ruby struggled to keep her face blank. Tara had called Sean? Fuck. Then he knew about the herpes call, which explained his radio silence yesterday. Time to lawyer up. But would demanding a lawyer make her seem guilty? She had to think…
Ruby cleared her throat and crossed her legs to kill time. Should she admit she called Tara, or not? What if they’d already gotten her phone records? She made up her mind.
“Actually…to be clear, Sean was her ex-boyfriend not her boyfriend. They had recently broken up.” The detectives exchanged a look, and she bit her lip. Probably shouldn’t have said that. “Before I say anything else, do I need a lawyer?”
Drawn To You: A Psychological thriller Page 21