Undressed At Sea: A Psychological Thriller (Drew Stirling Book 2)

by Jayden Hunter

  “Fuck. What’s up now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  When the news returned, the newscaster went to a clip of cop being interviewed.

  “That’s Jerry,” Rick said.

  “Earlier this morning the body of Lauren Wistern was discovered by a hiker. We continue to ask the public for any information about Miss Wistern or the missing woman, Jillian McCormick. No further comments, thank you.”

  The broadcast cut back to the newsroom, and the nicely appointed pretty brunette continued her report.

  “When Madison Reed was first reported missing, it seemed certain to the public that someone was abducting similar looking women, her appearance being strikingly similar to Jillian McCormick, a local college freshman who went missing last summer.”

  The television station displayed pictures of the women. It was uncanny to Rick how closely both the women looked similar to Drew.

  “When the former supermodel Drew Stirling was found floating miles off the San Diego coastline, her story of abduction and rape seemed so plausible that local police placed a twenty-four-hour surveillance watch on Professor Ryan Mills, the man whom Miss Stirling had accused of being her abductor. When Madison Reed reappeared, having been arrested in Las Vegas, Nevada, doubt was cast on the serial killer theory and Drew Stirling’s story of abduction came under scrutiny. When Laura Wistern was reported missing, the then suspect Professor Ryan Mills had been under twenty-four-hour surveillance. With the discovery of Miss Wistern’s body, suspicions of a serial killer are again on the table. Professor Ryan Mills is no longer a suspect, and Drew Stirling’s story is now being placed under scrutiny. Over to you—”

  “Turn it off, please,” Drew said.

  Rick turned off the television and gave her a hug.

  “Don’t let it bother you. It’s only the news. Sensational journalism. Forget it.”

  “I know. What is the world coming to? I feel horrible for that woman. Do you think it’s a copycat killer?”

  “Perhaps. Obviously, it’s not Mills. We don’t even know if the McCormick woman was murdered, there is still no connection there. Anything is possible. I shouldn’t speculate. The Reed woman, it’s just a sad case. She’s a drug addict. Her family and friends were going crazy thinking she was dead. She caused a lot of grief.”

  “I guess I did the same.”

  “Drew, if I didn’t believe your story about Marc and what happened to you, yes, I’d think you had been a manipulative and uncaring person. But I believe you did the right thing. Your parents betrayed you. Someone tried to kill you. I don’t think that’s in the same category at all with a drug addict running away to Vegas and getting involved in prostitution.”

  “Okay. I just feel shitty. As long as you trust in me, I don’t care about the news. But I do care about stopping that man. He’s still a monster. Even if he didn’t have anything to do with those two women, he took me.”

  ...................

  Rick took Drew’s hand as they walked along the beach in the late morning.

  In her other hand were her shoes. She walked close to the water’s edge, allowing her feet to be covered with the surge of foamy surf.

  He thought she was perfect.

  He hoped she wasn’t crazy.

  “What you thinking?” she asked.

  “I was wondering if we’re both crazy. I mean, you, you’re wonderful, but in some ways, too good to be true.”

  “Yes, I’m crazy. Would you want to be with a sane woman? Because if you do...”

  “No, I like you. Crazy as it is. But, Drew, I’m still worried about you.”

  “If you mention a therapist, I’m calling a taxi.”

  “No. I get that. You work out your own cra—shit. Look, I’m in love with you, and I’ve said it out loud. That means a whole lot to me, and I don’t want you getting hurt chasing a dangerous criminal; let the cops do their job.”

  “I’ve got to be true to myself so you’ll have to deal. I’m sorry if that means you don’t want—”

  “No. I accept you as you are. It’s just, just...”

  “I’m going to get that bastard,” she said. “I promise you that.”

  Rick knew she wasn’t being braggadocio, he also knew he loved her, and that meant supporting her, even if he disagreed with her some of her choices. Love is risk, after all.

  ...................

  Rick and Drew walked hand in hand through Rosarito. They bought a few trinkets and souvenirs: American tourists doing American tourist things. At twelve-thirty Rick asked Drew if she was hungry.

  “Sure, but no more rich seafood. I’ve gained ten pounds since last Thursday.”

  “You don’t look like you’ve gained more than seven or eight, actually.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Come on, this place looks good,” he said.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

  They sat and ordered drinks. A waiter convinced them to try the table-side guacamole.

  The waiter, who had a name tag with Jose written in black Sharpie, used fast acting hands to slice open two ripe avocados. He scooped the green flesh into a bowl, added onions, tomato, and lemon juice, and then mixed everything together, adding a dash of salt. He placed the bowl between them.

  “Gracias,” Drew said.

  “De nada,” the waiter said back. “You’re welcome. Can I take the orders from you now?”

  He told them the daily specials; his English was broken, but understandable.

  After ordering, Drew tried another phrase, “Donde esta el bano?”

  The waiter pointed and Drew excused herself.

  When she got back to the table, she had a funny look on her face.

  “You’re thinking,” Rick said.

  “Yes. I was in the bathroom, and something came to me. The light fixture in there, in the bathroom, it’s a cheap little light with a plastic dome. It reminded me of something. When I was on Ryan’s boat, I tried to find something to use as a weapon. Anything to at least try to defend myself. I was in the head and thought maybe I could get something sharp off the light fixture, but it had a plastic dome, like the one here. So I took that off and was trying to unscrew a lightbulb when Ryan yelled at me to hurry up or else he was going to come into the head and get me. The bulb was too small anyway, I don’t think I could have done anything with it. But, here’s what came to mind: I touched it. I hadn’t washed my hands; I’m sure there is something on that bulb, some fingerprint evidence, there’s got to be. Do you think he scrubbed the boat so immaculately that the bulb has been wiped down too?”

  “I doubt it. Let me think.” Rick scratched his head and then put his face into his hands.

  “Well?”

  “There’s a decent chance that he didn’t think to take off the cover and wipe off your fingerprints. That’s probably the case. But the problem will be, so what? He can just claim that you put them there the first time you were onboard, voluntarily.”

  “Yeah, but why the fuck would I try to unscrew a lightbulb for no reason?”

  “I understand. I’m not saying your story isn’t plausible. I’m saying it doesn’t really prove anything except that you were onboard. But you’ve admitted that, anyway. So let’s say we were able to obtain a warrant, search the boat, and find your prints; where would that get us? We already know you were there, he’s not denying that. You aren’t denying that. It’s true that your fingerprints would be good evidence to back up your claim. Unfortunately, they’d also be good evidence to back up his claim that you’d planned the whole thing out to frame him. He’d simply say that if you were really a hostage you’d not be thinking that clearly or that he wouldn’t have left you alone. He’d cause a lot of doubt. It’s good evidence; the problem is that it supports competing theories.”

  “I hate lawyers.”

  “They aren’t all bad.”

  “I hate lawyers.”

  “Some are pricks.”

  “I’m going to stress-eat all these chips
.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Every rose has its thorn, but that doesn't mean you have to put up with a ton of pricks.

  ~ Kelly Rossi

  I don’t want to hear about that nasty woman anymore. She uses her pussy like an American Express card and sends the bill to innocent bystanders.

  ~ Evelyn Fisher

  ...................

  Drew was still daydreaming about Mexico when she realized that Professor Kyle Fisher was speaking to her.

  “It doesn’t seem like you paid any attention to my lecture today, Miss Stirling.”

  The class had been dismissed five minutes ago, and Drew was playing on her phone, taking her time, while the crowd moved to the exits.

  “I was,” she said.

  “It seems like you’ve been distracted.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

  “Hold on. Please. Drew, can we talk for a minute?” Kyle reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “I’ve nothing to say to you.” She stepped away from him.

  “It’s just—look, I was a real dick.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s no excuse. I wanted to say how sorry I was. This is awkward standing here. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “Shit. Yeah, okay. But only for a quick chat. I have another class.”

  Drew walked silently alongside Kyle.

  He was still tall, handsome, and confident. She realized why she’d been attracted to him initially, but what a jerk. Like a flashy muscle car, but with sand in the transmission and no carburetor. She decided she’d give him about ten minutes, no more.

  “Please, sit. I’ll order. Just a coffee?”

  She nodded and took a seat.

  Kyle returned with two cups, smiled, and sat.

  Drew thought a sure sign that an apology was shit was when the guilty party kept repeating it.

  “I’m really sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to make things work with...”

  “Your wife? The one you told me you’d left for sure?”

  “Yes. I thought I was being the better man, but it only ended up making things a million times worse.”

  “Okay. What’s that got to do with me?”

  “I was hoping. Thinking. I wanted to know if—”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

  “Drew, we were so good together.”

  “Um, no. Not so much. Look, I’m flattered. I wish you the best. But I’m seeing someone, and I’m not interested. You’re a nice guy; you’ll find some other doe-eyed coed in about a minute.”

  “It’s not like that, Drew. You’re not like the younger women here. It’s not like I’m wanting to date students. You’re practically thirty, and you’ve been through a lot. Give me another chance?”

  “Sorry. Like I said, I’m seeing someone. He’s a good man and I’m happy.”

  “Okay. A guy’s got to know when to admit defeat. I’m sorry about everything. Really.”

  “So, all’s forgiven. Let’s move on, and I can concentrate on my degree while I’m on campus and not my love life.”

  Drew watched him frown.

  He started to say something but stopped.

  “You got something else brilliant to ask me?”

  “I wanted to talk about Ryan.”

  “Fuck Ryan. That bastard is evil.”

  “Drew, he’s a friend. I don’t know everything that happened between you two, but I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a good man. He’s happily married. Jessica’s a great woman. When that other woman went missing, while you’d put him under surveillance, it showed everyone that he’s not the guy, right? I mean, that poor woman ended up dead, and we all know for a fact that Ryan had nothing to do with it. I’m not saying you’re crazy, but maybe you’re mixed up how you remembered what happened?”

  “Are you saying you think I’m capable of accusing an innocent man of kidnap and rape?”

  “No. I’m saying maybe you guys got really stoned and drunk and you fell overboard. Shock. Trauma to the head. You almost drowned. Your past probably affected how you remembered things, and you were confused—”

  Drew interrupted him with a string of cuss words. “I’m really not going to listen to this.”

  “Drew, I’m not saying I think you did anything malicious. But Ryan and I have been friends for years. Our wives are friends. We’ve socialized for years. He’s a good man. I don’t know what to think about all this, but I can’t believe he’s a—”

  “Believe whatever you want to believe. You want to support him because he’s your friend, I can accept that. Be his friend. But you can’t be my friend, and I’m done here.”

  “Drew, please...”

  Drew stood and picked up her book bag.

  Two students walked by at that moment and said hello to the professor. He looked up and greeted them back, and then turned to Drew, but the two students didn’t leave. One of them looked at Drew.

  “You’re that woman, aren’t you?”

  Drew ignored him.

  “Yes,” said the other student. “She’s the one that—”

  “You know that Professor Fisher is married?” said the first student.

  “Please, gentlemen,” Professor said. He stood, and the students walked away.

  They both heard the word, fake-whispered, “Slut.”

  “Sorry, Drew. They’re still just boys.”

  “All of you are.”

  Drew sat. She could feel her eyes pool with tears. She hated crying in front of someone she didn’t want to feel any intimacy towards. She looked down.

  “Drew?”

  “Please. Just leave me. I need a moment. I have nothing else to discuss with you.”

  “I have a friend who sees someone. I could get you her number, she’s good.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “A therapist. Someone who can talk to you about all this.”

  “All this? What are you even talking about?”

  “I mean the drugs, the alcohol. The trauma. Why you’d tell people that you were—”

  “Goddamn it! So this is what this is about? You want to recommend a shrink because you think I’m making up stories about your friend, and I have a drug problem? I’m so out of here.”

  Drew stood.

  “Please, Drew. I didn’t mean it like that. I just think you need some help.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend, your friend, or anyone that you have the right to talk to. You got that? You’re a professor who gives a class I take. That’s it. Don’t ever speak to me again about anything that isn’t directly about class.”

  “Drew, please?”

  Drew stood, picked up her bag, and walked away.

  “Fucking asshole.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  You see a nigga won't give a good girl shit yet he will spend his last dime trying to make a bad girl his bitch. He will go broke trying to trap some whore into a monogamous relationship.

  ~ Crystal Evans

  My boyfriend is Drew’s best friend. I can see that they treat each other like siblings. But it took me a long time to get over the insecurity I felt about them because, let’s face it: if Drew asks a man to jump he is asking her how many more times she’d like it on the second or third bounce.

  ~ Chelsea Park

  ...................

  Ben looked at Drew.

  “Good thing my girlfriend is not the jealous type,” he said.

  “Good thing you’re the only chance I have at having a normal person in my family.”

  “Well, little sister, tell me. What’s going on?” Ben asked.

  “God. Men. I swear, sometimes I so wish I was a lesbian.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh, first the good news. Rick and I are in love.” A big smile appeared on her face.

  “So not all men are evil?”

&nbs
p; “Ha-ha. With my luck he’s either going to get shot on duty or worse: he’ll tell me that he’s got a wife and kids up in Orange County. But of course, he’s still interested in fucking me on the occasional weekend.”

  “Don’t be so negative.”

  “Don’t be such a bitch.”

  Ben studied Drew’s face, attempting to read her mood, he wanted to have a serious conversation. He ordered gin and tonics; it seemed like a good choice for setting the right atmosphere.

  “Yes?” Drew asked. “I can see you’re about to piss me off.”

  “No. I’m sorry about trying to give you advice. You know how I feel about the situation, and I’m always here for you. I was out of place pushing. Forgive me?”

  “Yes, of course. I know you’re just trying to help, but I don’t want that kind of help. It’s bullshit. I’m fine, really. And things are going great with Rick. Special Agent Rick.”

  “Okay, water under the bridge then?”

  “Forgotten. Hey, guess who hit me up for a coffee and a chat yesterday?”

  “Can’t even imagine. Could be any of the thousands of men that have seen you naked online and want a date.”

  “Don’t be an ass; it’s millions. No, it was Professor Fisher. Can you believe the nerve?”

  “What did he want?”

  “He wanted to tell me I needed to see a therapist because I’m a drug addict alcoholic whore that makes up stories about being abducted so I can get attention.”

  “Wow. Really? He said that?”

  “In so many words.”

  “Did you kick him in the nuts?”

  “I was tempted.”

  “What else?” Ben asked.

  “He defended Ryan, his psychopathic evil friend. The asshole—as if that snake needs defending—it makes me sick.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ben gave her a questioning stare. “You’re not still following him are you?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Drew!”

  “I’m doing what I think is best. I have an FBI boyfriend who already gives me enough shit, so don’t start. I’m not going to pretend that he isn’t going to brutalize another woman.”