Artist's Rendering Part 4

Chapter Twelve

Rebecca awoke Sunday morning with a soft pounding in her head. She groggily rubbed her eyes and slowly realized that the pounding was actually someone knocking on her door. She glanced at the clock on the dresser. Ten o'clock. Not unreasonably early, but she still resented being woken.
She threw on her robe and went to see who it was. She peeked through the peephole and saw Josh standing in front of her door. She opened the door a crack hoping she didn't look like the walking dead.
"Good morning Sunshine," he chimed leaning over to give her a kiss on the forehead.
"Morning." She involuntarily yawned as she said this.
"Did I wake you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Should I come back later?"
"What did you want?" She tried to ask as politely as possible.
"I came by to see if you wanted to go for a walk. It's a beautiful day."
She contemplated his words while being distracted by his eyes. Torn between wanting to spend time with him and the inviting warm bed in the other room, she had to choose.
"Just give me a few minutes." She finally decided.
"Shall I just wait here then?" He clearly had no intention of doing any such thing. She reluctantly allowed him into her living room and quickly dashed into her bedroom to change.
"There was something in front of your door when I got here," he called to her. "I went ahead and brought it in for you."
"Thanks," she called back with a horrible suspicion of what it might be.
She threw on a yellow sundress and sandals thinking it might be the last time she wore it that year. Soon it would be much too cold. She glanced at the small bag containing the bra and panty set she had purchased the day before, and decided to save it for another day.
Once she felt herself presentable, she went to greet Josh properly. He stood from the couch when she entered the room and she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a friendly kiss.
"Does this mean you forgive me for waking you?" he asked with a smile.
"Of course. Just don't do it again," she threatened playfully.
"So what is this anyway?" he held up a yellow envelope.
"It's nothing," she went to grab it but he was too quick for her.
"Looks important."
"It's not." She reached for it again and this time he gave it to her. She tossed it on her dining room table.
"I guess I'm not the only one with secrets," he hinted with a sly grin.
"Did you want to go for a walk or not?" She began pulling him toward the door, eager to change the subject.
They strolled through the campus, eventually finding their way to the same gazebo they had visited before. They sat on a bench, his arm around her, and her legs curled up beside her. They alternated between small talk and listening to the birds singing around them. Eventually, she found herself lying on her back with her head in his lap. He brushed her hair with his fingers. She looked into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking.
"Do you think things are moving a little fast between us?" she finally managed the courage to ask.
"Why? Do you?"
"I don't know. Sometimes it seems like it."
"But?"
"But, I don't want to slow down."
"It feels like I've known you all my life," he whispered.
"Yet you barely know me."
"I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you," he admitted. Silence was her reply.
"I watched you for weeks. It's amazing how much you can learn about someone simply by being observant," he continued.
"And what did you learn?"
"Well, you were notoriously late, but didn't strike me as the irresponsible type. Finally I learned that you still hadn't unpacked from the move. So, other things must have seemed more important to you."
"I suppose," she cut in, but he continued on.
"I saw you reading in the park one day. You were still running late, so I knew you weren't unpacked yet. It intrigued me. It proved to me that to you, there are more important things in life than tedious chores."
"You make me sound lazy," she said.
"Not at all. You also choose to walk to work every morning. You're a fascinating woman," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "And the more I learn, the more I fall for you." She said nothing.
"I probably sound like some sort of stalker," he laughingly admitted.
"Not in the least," she said ignoring thoughts of hand drawn images of her. "I'll freely admit that I watched you those weeks as well. Of course, I didn't learn much."
"I play things close to the belt."
"I noticed. So you don't think we're moving too fast?"
"Maybe to other people it might seem that way."
"What do you think?"
"If I had my way about it, I'd spend every moment of every day with you. So long as you have no objections, I see no reason not to just go with the flow."
"Then why..." She was afraid to ask the question and fell silent.
"Why what?" he asked gently.
"Why do you always suddenly leave when we're together?" She blushed.
"I've already told you," he said with a sympathetic tone. "I care deeply for you. I cherish every moment we have together. I don't want to do anything that might jeopardize that." He caressed her face.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" She had to know.
"Isn't that all we've been doing all morning?" he laughed.
"Don't be offended..." she began.
"Uh oh. I don't like the sound of that."
"Are you a virgin?" She regretted the moment the words came out of her mouth. How pathetic it sounded. Why should she care? She wasn't sure if his laughing made her feel better or worse.
"Is that what you think? No. Rest assured I am no virgin. But while we're on the subject, are you?"
"No." There had been no one for a very long time. Sometimes she felt like a virgin, but feelings and reality were often quite different.
"Now that that's settled," he lifted her off of his lap and stood. "How about some lunch?"
They found their way to the closest greasy burger joint. The afternoon was spent in laughter and light-hearted conversation. She still didn't see how "going with the flow" went along with abruptly ending dates, but was so embarrassed from the earlier conversation she didn't touch the subject.

Chapter Thirteen

The afternoon drifted by the couple as they strolled through the campus. The scenery was full of breathtaking autumn colors, but the couple barely noticed. Even as the afternoon stretched into evening, they gave no notice. Neither were willing for the day to end.
An idea sprang into Rebecca's mind as they walked. She felt naughty for simply considering it and a mischievous smile spread across her face. Josh asked what was on her mind and she blushed.
"It's getting to be about that time," he sighed. With the sun down below the horizon and streetlights flickering to life, neither could deny that it was time for them to end their walk. Rebecca nodded in agreement and they shifted their path in the direction of their building.
The closer they got, the faster Rebecca's heart thumped. She had thought of it many times before, but did she have the nerve? Josh pushed the button and they waited in silence for the elevator to open. The ding made her heart jump. She licked her lips as the door opened and they entered.
As the doors closed and they began to ascend, she turned to him. He smiled softly down at her and she knew he'd never expect it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply pressing herself against him. He backed into the wall. His surprise was quickly replaced with an enthusiasm which rivaled hers. Only when the doors opened again did she back away from him.
"I had a good time, Josh." The stunned look on his face was answer enough for her. "Well... goodnight," she smiled naughtily and walked away leaving him breathless behind her.
She unlocked her door and went inside. Only after the door closed behind her did she allow herself to breathe. It killed her to leave him like that, but she loved it nonetheless. The look on his face alone was enough to justify it. Maybe now he would understand how she felt.
Finally noticing her empty stomach, she realized she hadn't eaten dinner yet and wandered dreamily into the kitchen to search her vacant cupboards. She seemed to remember unpacking a can of soup and searched for where she had left it. As she looked, she wondered what Josh was doing at the moment. What was he thinking?
Finally she found the elusive can, opened it, poured it in a bowl, and popped it in the microwave. As she waited for the soup to heat, she noticed the envelope on the table. She felt as if nothing could ruin her mood now and went to open it.
"What does Picasso have for me today?" she asked in a cheerful tone. She slipped the paper out of the envelope and examined it. What she saw made her stomach turn.
Rebecca stood in a tiny room with bare walls. Her clothes lay on a piled heap on the bench beside her. She faced a mirror, turned slightly to the side to examine herself. The lacy nightgown left little to the imagination and the artist was careful to record every last detail of what was revealed.
The dressing room? How? This was just too much. She dug through her purse for the business card Detective Rothko had given her. After hunting down the phone, she dialed the circled number with shaking hands and waited.
"Rothko," a deep voice answered.
"Detective Rothko, this is Rebecca McIntyre."
"Ah, yes, Rebecca. What can I do for you?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I received another picture."
"I figured you would. What's different this time?"
"Well," she was embarrassed to say. "In the picture I'm in a dressing room at a store in the mall."
"Hmmm," he paused. "Was anyone in the dressing room with you by chance?"
"No! It was a rather private moment."
"Well, clearly they weren't actually watching you. Perhaps they saw you go in and saw what it was you were trying on. It's not like an actual photograph. A good artist, as this person clearly is, can manipulate anything to depict whatever they want."
"Still, can't you do something? This is obviously an invasion of privacy."
"Or simply a dirty mind, an active imagination, and a talented hand. A dangerous combination if you ask me."
"You're not going to do anything, are you?"
"Tell you what, bring it by the station tomorrow and I'll have a look at it."
"Okay. Thank you, Detective."
"And Rebecca?"
"Yes?"
"Don't hesitate to call if you need anything else."
Rebecca hung up the phone and looked at the picture again. She thought of Detective Rothko's explanation. He was right. Logically, it wasn't possible for this sick person to have actually watched her in the dressing room. Maybe they had just seen what she took in there with her.
Just as she was about to put the picture aside she noticed it. High up on her inner thigh was a faint birthmark. Few people knew of that birthmark. Despite what people had told her in the past, she still saw it as a blemish. Whoever this was, clearly they were intimately familiar with her body.
They thought sent chills up her spine.

Chapter Fourteen

"That's just sick," Shelly stated furiously in the staff room Monday morning. Rebecca had reluctantly shown her the latest picture. She hated to show anyone, but she had to confide in someone.
"You're right though," she said calmly.
"About what?"
"That nightgown wasn't you. You were right to go with the red number."
"Shelly!"
"Sorry. Couldn't help it. Did you call the police?"
"Of course."
"And?"
"He doubts they can do anything, but he still wants me to bring this by the station for him to see."
"The bastard probably just wants to see you in all your glory."
"He's just doing his job."
"Yeah, poorly."
Rebecca agreed, but said nothing. She tucked the picture away, praying nobody decided to nose through her things that morning. She would be mortified if anyone found the picture.
As she had predicted, Detective Rothko had nothing new to say. He peered intently at the picture. After what Rebecca considered to be plenty of time, she spoke up.
"Umm... What, exactly, are you looking for?"
"This guy draws every detail, right?"
"Right. Usually."
"Well, if there were any kind of peephole or anything like that, it might be drawn in the picture."
"You think the creep would actually draw himself peeping in at me?" It was a preposterous idea.
"No. But we have nothing else to go on, so we might as well check."
"I suppose."
"Have you got a cell phone?" He stood up and handed the picture back. She quickly put it away.
"No."
"Get one. Put my number on speed dial and keep it with you at all times. If you see anything. I mean anything. Call me. I want to get this perv as much as you do."
"I doubt that."
"Okay, almost as much as you do." He rolled his eyes at her. She thanked him for his time and quickly left the station. Shelly was waiting impatiently in her car. Knowing how angry Shelly about the whole situation, Rebecca had insisted on going inside alone.
"So?" she asked as Rebecca got in the car.
"Nothing."
"Figures. Girl, somebody's after you. We've got to do something."
"Like what?"
"Like don't go anywhere alone. Like lock your doors. Like..."
"I do all that already." Shelly had a look on her face as if she were trying to fit pieces of an exceptionally difficult puzzle together.
"Who all knows about that mark on your leg?" she asked finally.
"My parents..."
"Obviously."
"You."
"Only because you told me."
"A few ex boyfriends..."
"Could be."
"And Josh," she turned a deep shade of red as she said it, but Shelly was too preoccupied with her thoughts.
"You don't think Josh..."
"Not a chance. He wouldn't."
"Okay, okay. Well, what about those ex boyfriends? Any creeps in that mix?"
"A few, but one: they all live hundreds of miles from here, and two: none of them were this talented."
"So we're back at square one again."
"Looks like it."
They grabbed a quick sandwich on the way back to the library and ate in the staff room. Neither spoke. When Shelly had finished, she left to return to her post behind the circulation desk. Rebecca sat alone and thought of Josh. She didn't want to think about it, but couldn't help it. Either some stranger was after her, or he was more talented at art that he let on. But why would he? He had her. He knew that. Why the secrecy? It just couldn't be. It didn't add up.
Refusing to taint her thoughts of him any further, she pushed the idea far from her as she pushed herself away from the table and stood up. She slowly and reluctantly walked out of the room and toward the circulation desk where she found Shelly in the arms of Eduardo. She cleared her throat a little to let them know they were no longer alone and set to work.
Jealousy coursed through her veins as she heard them behind her. Never had she given Eduardo any thought. She simply wished Josh were there to hold her like that. What she wouldn't give to feel his arms around her at that moment.
"I'll see you later, Baby," Shelly said softly.
Rebecca could here to sounds of their kiss and rolled her eyes. Soon after she heard the doors open and close and knew that he had gone.
"What was that all about?" Rebecca couldn't help asking.
"Nothing really. He just wants to meet me after work and wanted to know when I would get off."
"Doesn't he realize you get off at the same time every day?"
"Guess not," Shelly shrugged. She returned behind the desk and set to work again.
"Oh no," Shelly groaned as she began pulling books out of the book drop. She pulled out a battered yellow envelope and handed it to Rebecca. Rebecca closed her eyes and prayed it would all go away.

Chapter Fifteen

Shelly wasn't speaking to Rebecca. They had argued after opening the envelope. Rebecca had made the mistake of insinuating Eduardo had left the envelope in the book drop.
"Why would he? He's not even interested in you!" Shelly had rounded on her. "If you hadn't noticed, he's more than happy with me."
"I'm just saying..."
"Look, it's much more likely it's that Josh guy than my Eduardo so just drop it. Somebody probably dropped it in there while we were gone. Anyone could have done it."
Shelly was right. Rebecca didn't actually believe Eduardo was behind this. She had merely suggested. As Detective Rothko said, they had nothing to go on. They had to look at every possibility.
Rebecca took the envelope back to the staff room and tucked it away in her purse. It had disgusted her more than the last one. For the first time, it was a scene that had never actually happened.
It depicted Rebecca lying on glossy satin sheets. Apparently, the artist was fond of the lacy night gown as they had drawn her wearing it again. She lay seductively on the bed. If it had been a photograph, she would have been looking straight into the camera with half a smile.
The only comfort she took was that it had never happened. This wasn't some intrusion into her personal life. Yet, somehow, it was worse. Much worse. They were sending her a message and the message was clear. In their world, she could be forced to do anything they wanted. And there was nothing she could do about it.
Rebecca tried hard to think of other things as she worked, but failed miserably.
When five o'clock finally arrived, she became very nervous. For the first time since starting her job she wished she didn't have to walk. She thought of all the shadowy corners she had to pass on her trek home and wished she didn't have to do it alone.
Stepping out into the afternoon sun, Rebecca looked around hoping Josh would surprise her again. He was nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath, she began walking.
Her mind played tricks on her. She would see shadows dart and hear phantom footsteps. She knew it wasn't real, but the thought failed to comfort her. She saw her building drawing near and kept her eyes focused on it.
"Becky!" She jumped as she was about to open the door to go inside the building. Turning around, she saw Josh coming toward her in his usual jeans. His shirt presumably lay in a heap near the car he had been working on.
"Josh! You scared me!"
"I saw that. You must have gotten about a foot of air on that jump," he smiled then noticed she wasn't smiling back. "You okay?"
"I've just had a rough day," she admitted.
"Give me a sec and I'll go up with you." She watched him walk back to the car to close the hood, gather his tools and shirt, and walk back. As they went inside, he threw his arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. He couldn't have been working long. He wasn't covered in grease and sweat as usual. She wondered where he had been all day.
They rode the elevator in silence and he walked her to her apartment. Another yellow envelope lay in front of her door. Josh looked questioningly at it before picking it up for her. She sighed and reluctantly accepted it from him. She unlocked the door and they went inside.
Josh placed his tools on the floor near the door and pulled his shirt back on. They sat on the couch and he looked at her. It was a look of quiet patience. It told her he was there for her, he would listen to anything she had to say, but he would wait until she felt comfortable enough to talk.
"You don't draw by any chance, do you?" The idea was planted in her head and wouldn't go away until she did something about it.
"Not if I can help it. Why?"
"This," she held up the envelope. "I've gotten quite a few of these lately."
"And they are?"
"Pictures. Sketches actually."
"Of what?"
"Me."
"Really?" He sounded intrigued. "May I see?" She was afraid of showing him either of the two in her purse. Yet, she didn't yet know what the unopened one had in store for her.
"Let me look at it first... just in case." She slipped the paper out a little bit and peeked at it. It was an innocent sketch of her leaving the police station earlier that day. Deciding it was safe, she pulled it all the way out and handed it to Josh who studied it.
"Wow," he breathed. "I have to say, I'm flattered you would ever even consider me talented enough to do this. So what's the problem?"
"This guy's getting a little too creative. He's drawing things that no one should have seen."
"You've gone to the police?"
"Yes. They're no help." He nodded as if he understood.
"I take it I'm a suspect?"
"Only a little."
"May I ask why?"
"Well," she had dreaded this part. "This guy knows things about me."
"What things?"
"He knows about my birthmark," she blushed. A grin spread across his face.
"I take it not many people know about that."
"No."
"So, if you think I'm this artist guy, why have you allowed me in your apartment?"
"I didn't actually think it was you."
"I would hope not. If you did, you're not as smart as I thought. You've got to be careful."
"That's what everyone keeps telling me. As if I frequently walk down dark allies alone at night or something."
"Do you mind if I see the others?" She was afraid he'd ask that. Deciding there was no point in hiding them from him, she went to her bedroom to retrieve them. He opened them one by one and studied each picture.
"I remember this," he said holding the picture of her reading.
"You do?"
"Yeah. I passed by, but didn't have the nerve to say anything to you. There were a lot of people in that area." He opened the next picture. Then the third.
"Antonio's?" he asked and she nodded. He opened the fourth. The fifth made him scowl.
"Tell me I don't actually look like that," he tried to say playfully, but she could hear the resentment in his voice. He then looked at the last one again.
"Where are the others?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said this guy knows about your birthmark. I didn't see it in any of these pictures. So there have to be more."
"There are."
"But you don't want to show me?"
"Would you believe I'm embarrassed?"
"Come on. You can trust me. I promise I won't laugh." Reluctantly, she pulled the two out of her purse and handed them to Josh. He opened the one in the dressing room and his jaw dropped. She felt her face flush.
"Wow." He kept looking, taking in every inch of the picture.
"Wow," he repeated. She snatched it from him and dreaded him opening the other envelope.
"Hey! I was looking at that!" he protested.
"Drooling is the more accurate word." She winced as he opened the final envelope.
"I'm keeping this one," he declared with wide eyes.
"Do you at least see why I'm upset about this?"
"What?" he blinked and she took the picture away.
"I feel so violated by these pictures and there's nothing I can do about it."
His face melted into an expression of pity mixed with compassion. She felt a tear slide down her face and he took her in his arms.
"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered, stroking her hair. She pulled herself together and began putting the pictures away.
"Becky, can I ask you a serious question?" he asked cautiously.
"What is it?"
"When can I see that lacy number on you?" The grin on his face was positively wicked.
Josh kept a light attitude in regard to the pictures. He slipped corny jokes about them into their conversations and whimsically spoke of his longing to be able to draw. Rebecca appreciated his attempts to alleviate her concerns, yet she knew he was worried. When he thought she wasn't looking, she would find him with a dark expression on his face.
Reluctantly, he said goodnight after checking and double-checking her apartment for "boogiemen".

Chapter Sixteen

Rebecca woke with a start. She looked at the clock on the dresser. Three in the morning. What had woken her? She had been dreaming. A strange dream. She had watched a hand-drawn image of herself dancing. A dark shadow sat in a corner and watched her.
Unable to shake the feeling that it needed to be done, Rebecca stood and began walking around her apartment in much the same way Josh had done before leaving. She flipped on lights and looked in closets. She didn't actually expect to find anything, but knew she wouldn't be able to return to sleep unless it was done.
She checked that the patio door was locked, laughing at the thought of anyone climbing seven stories to break into her home.
Finally, she checked the front door and let out a gasp. How could she be so careless? She had been so enthralled with saying goodnight to Josh that she had left the door unlocked. She counted herself fortunate as she turned the lock and returned to bed. She thought of what Josh would say if he knew and decided this fact was best kept to herself.
After a few hours of tossing, Rebecca gave up and climbed out of bed. She turned the silent alarm clock off and went to the kitchen to make coffee. She sat of the couch and peered out of the patio door while she waited for her liquid energy to brew. A dense fog had settled over the land. Even the building facing hers was barely discernible through the thick cloud.
It wasn't until she stood pouring herself a cup that she noticed it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a familiar yellow color and nearly dropped the coffee pot. She turned and saw it lying on her kitchen table. Telling herself she had merely forgotten to put one away the night before she walked over and picked it up. With a racing heart and trembling fingers, she opened the envelope and removed the sheet held within.
Rebecca lay curled up on the same satin sheets as before, wearing the same revealing lingerie. She slept soundly with a slight smile on her face. Two gloved hands belonging to an unseen body lifted a sheet over her as if preparing to gently tuck her in.
It wasn't Rebecca's bed. Nor did Rebecca wear such things while she slept. This was another image from the artist's imagination. However, Rebecca couldn't shake the suspicion that they had been watching her as she slept. That, she was sure, was what had woken her. Rebecca found the phone and dialed Detective Rothko's number.
"Hello," a grumpy-sounding voice gargled.
"Detective Rothko?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Rebecca McIntyre," she suddenly wished she had waited to place the call.
"Rebecca? Is everything alright? Are you in trouble?" he asked suddenly more awake.
"I'm alright. I'm sorry to call so early."
"It's fine. I was already up," he lied.
"It's just that I received another picture," she began hesitantly.
"And?"
"I think they were in my house."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, I found the envelope on my dining room table this morning."
"Don't go anywhere. Don't touch anything. I'm on my way," he said and hung up.
Rebecca sat on the couch and sipped her coffee, waiting. She kicked herself for leaving the door unlocked. What had she been thinking? She thought of Josh and their long kiss goodnight. She knew exactly what she had been thinking. There was a knock at the door and she rose to answer it.
"Good morning, Rebecca," he said as he stepped into her apartment.
"Good morning, Detective," she replied.
"The picture?" he inquired. She showed him the table where she had left it. He picked it up and examined it. She pretended she hadn't noticed his eyes lingering on her sleeping form.
"And this is where you found it?" She nodded.
"So he drew you in your bed?"
"Not exactly. That's not my bed, or my pajamas." She closed her eyes briefly as he looked at the picture again.
"Was there any sign of a break in?"
"None."
"You don't suppose they have a key, do you?"
"Actually," she hated to admit it. "I believe I left my door unlocked." Detective Rothko scowled. She braced herself for his full reaction.
"Not smart," he finally said.
"I know. I wasn't thinking."
"Clearly."
"So what now?" she asked.
"Well, judging by the picture, I doubt we'll find anything. But, I'd like to dust for prints. You never know." She nodded.
"This might take awhile, so go ahead and go about your business."
Rebecca showered and dressed as the detective went to work starting with her front door. She was amazed how focused he was. He moved slowly and carefully through the apartment leaving few surfaces untouched.
"This is going to take awhile. I'll let you know what I find," he said to her as she made to leave for work.
"Thank you, Detective," she said softly and walked out the door.
"Good morning beautiful," Josh sang a greeting. He had been leaning against the opposite wall from her door. He took her in his arms and kissed her.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"I suppose."
"What's wrong?" His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"Another picture."
"What this time?"
"It was of me sleeping."
"Did you call the cops?"
"Of course. Detective Rothko is in there now," she gestured at the closed door behind her. Josh looked distressed, but she tugged him down the hall unwilling to dwell on the situation in her apartment.
"So what are you doing up so early?" she asked him casually as they rode the elevator.
"Gotta protect my baby," he said with a grin.
"So what? Now you're my bodyguard?"
"I prefer knight in shining armor."
Josh accompanied her to the library and promised to return at lunchtime. She promised him she didn't need the protection and that he needn't go to all the trouble.
"Maybe I just like having an excuse to spend more time with you," he whispered before kissing her goodbye. He stood watching her until she had gone inside and the door closed securely behind her.