Drawn to Death

DRAWN TO DEATH KAT SHEHATA Copyright © 2022 by Kat Shehata All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover design by Deranged Doctor In loving memory of JoJo Thanks for the inspiration, Mom CONTENTS Prologue 1. Bones—Evelyn 2. Drawn to Him—Evelyn 3. Death Pose—Leo 4. Out of My Mind—Leo 5. Haunted—Evelyn 6. Toxic—Leo 7. The Death of Me—Evelyn 8. Ghost Story—Evelyn 9. Wanted—Leo 10. Taps—Evelyn 11. Damning—Leo 12. Unearthed—Leo 13. Heartbreaker—Leo 14. Losing Battle—Evelyn 15. The Messenger—Leo 16. Captiva—Evelyn 17. Best Shot—Evelyn 18. Walleye—Leo 19. The Vision—Evelyn 20. Prying Eyes—Evelyn 21. Love Letters—Leo 22. Caller Unknown—Evelyn 23. Boys and Beer—Leo 24. Buzzed—Evelyn 25. Missing—Leo 26. Hovering—Leo 27. Silent—Evelyn 28. Sixth Sense—Evelyn 29. Blackwater—Leo 30. Sabotaged—Evelyn 31. Whipped—Evelyn 32. Twisted—Leo 33. Curious—Evelyn 34. He doesn’t Deserve You—Evelyn 35. Meltdown—Evelyn 36. Disturbing Thoughts—Leo 37. Murder Van—Evelyn 38. Popped—Leo 39. The Windy City Stalker—Leo 40. The Aftermath—Evelyn 41. She’s Mine—Evelyn 42. Bodyguard—Leo 43. Polished—Leo 44. Bad Boyfriend—Evelyn 45. Fake Girlfriend—Leo 46. Devilish—Evelyn 47. The Buzz—Leo 48. Falling—Evelyn 49. Afterglow—Leo 50. Undercover—Leo 51. Frisky—Leo 52. Pass—Evelyn 53. Buffalo—Leo 54. Straight Up—Evelyn 55. Ghostly—Evelyn 56. Wrecking Ball—Evelyn 57. Linwood—Leo 58. Final Friday—Evelyn 59. Mercy—Leo 60. Unholy—Leo 61. Unleashed—Leo 62. Pinned—Evelyn 63. Mementos—Evelyn 64. Scarlet—Leo 65. Linwood—Evelyn 66. Blow—Evelyn 67. Obsession—Evelyn 68. Blown Away—Evelyn 69. Angels of the Windy City—Evelyn 70. Serve and Protect—Leo Want to read more? Enjoyed Drawn to Death? Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Kat Shehata PROLOGUE Sydney Reynolds The handle on the bathroom door rattled. I removed my cucumber eye mask and stared at the door, thinking maybe I had imagined it. “Vaughn?” I called my husband’s name. “Is that you?” No answer. The floorboards creaked in the hallway. Someone was out there. “Honey?” Vaughn left for the hospital an hour ago to check on a patient. I couldn’t imagine he’d returned home. My client, Evelyn Sinclair, had an art show that evening. Since Vaughn had been called to work, we agreed to go separately and meet at the gallery. Maybe there’s been a change in plans. I drained the sudsy water from the bath, clicked off the spa music, and reached for a towel. Spa-scented bubbles clung to my body as I stepped out of the tub. The aromatherapy candles on the counter flickered when I tossed my towel in the hamper and replaced it with my fuzzy pink robe. I searched the room for my phone to check my messages, then realized I’d left it on the nightstand in our bedroom. I turned on the lights, killing my atmospheric mood lighting, and moved to the bathroom door. I held my breath and listened for signs of life. No footsteps. No movement in the hallway. The house was quiet except for the pitter-patter of raindrops beating against the windows. Vaughn always changed his clothes and showered when he came home. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb my spa time and decided to use the guest bathroom to clean up. Or maybe it isn’t him trying to open the bathroom door? I shook off the thought. I wasn’t usually so paranoid, but I’d received a string of disturbing phone calls and texts from an unknown caller over the past few weeks that had my senses on high alert. I had initially believed the calls to my cell were random. They were infrequent. Nothing more than the sound of a man breathing. But this morning, a gift box was on my desk when I got to work. A card was tucked into the ribbon with my name scrolled across the center. I opened the envelope and read the note. “Wear this for me tonight, Sydney.” No signature. Just a hand-drawn heart. My husband was a cardiovascular surgeon, so it wasn’t off the mark to draw a heart to hint that it was from him. But when I opened the present, I was surprised to find a skimpy negligee and thigh-high silk stockings. I gasped from the shock and checked around the room to see if any of my coworkers had noticed. Thankfully, no one had. Naturally, my first thought was that my husband had sent the gift. But it wasn’t like Vaughn to send something risqué that would embarrass me at work. A dozen beautiful roses, yes. But he never bought me kinky lingerie. As I processed the boldness of the gift, I suspected my husband was not the sender. I had the uncomfortable feeling the raunchy gift and disturbing calls were related. I planned to discuss the matter with Vaughn that evening and then decide if the harassment warranted a call to Chicago PD. Wear this for me tonight, Sydney. My mind raced with disturbing thoughts. Did the unknown caller break into our home while I was bathing? Do you seriously believe an intruder would be so kind as to wait for you to finish your “me time” before he attacked you, Sydney? The idea was ridiculous. I had to be reasonable. Once I got to my bedroom and retrieved my phone, I would text Vaughn. He was never too busy to step away and return my call. I unlocked the door and twisted the lock. As the door creaked open, I peeked into the hallway. I placed my hand on my chest and laughed with relief. An adorable teddy bear was holding a red satin heart, leaning against the wall. Red and white rose petals were scattered along the floor like bread crumbs leading the way to our bedroom door. This was undeniably Vaughn’s romantic gesture. Red roses for the passion that burns in my heart. White for the pureness of our eternal love. Instrumental jazz music played, and the soft glow of a salt lamp created the romantic ambience that was the work of my sweet, handsome and very romantic husband. I