Page 10 of Cursed by Death (Ruby Jane #1)

I groaned as I opened my eyes, wishing the damn buzzing would stop.

I knew from experience that it would not stop until whoever was ringing my doorbell stopped and got the fuck off of my front steps.

I clutched at the side of my head as I sat up, blinking at the wall of screens still lit up in front of me.

I needed Tylenol, coffee, and a shitload of water to potentially rid myself of this dumpster fire of a hangover. I finished off the normal whiskey and had dug out the Fireball, ending my night doing shots by myself down in my secret basement.

My life really was a lonely, sad existence these days.

“What the fuck?” I muttered irately as I took in the police officers at my front door.

I really hoped that whatever this bullshit was didn’t require me to get a lawyer because I hadn’t had time to even think about that yet.

Even though I probably looked like a train wreck and needed to brush my teeth, I went upstairs and opened the front door. It was bright and sunny out and my headache immediately intensified tenfold.

Fuck my actual life. I was never drinking like that again.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I asked in a husky voice as I squinted at the men.

One was in a police officer’s uniform, while the other had on a cheap suit. At least it fit him well.

Perhaps the Detective had asked to be removed from Thomas’s case because he thought I wanted to date him or some crazy shit like that and now his replacement was here.

“Ms. Maredo?” the mew, cheap suit wearing Detective asked.

God damn, but I hated my last name.

“Ruby Jane,” I said, correcting the man. I absolutely could not handle this man continuing to call me Ms. Maredo. I’d puke all over his cheap, but leather, loafers.

“Right,” he murmured quietly. “Of course. May we come inside?”

I wanted to tell him hell no and to get off my property right this instant. Instead, I asked, “What’s this about?”

“Detective Rowans didn’t show up for work this morning. He’s missing. We tracked his phone and it showed that he was here last night. Why?”

This could not be happening right now.

I opened the door for them and they followed me inside. I made my way to the kitchen. I powered on the Keurig and the lights flashed green.

“Would either of you like a cup of coffee?” I asked them as I pulled a mug out of the cupboard for myself.

They both turned me down, which was just fine by me because I really only wanted to have to make my own.

I made my coffee and then turned to face them, resting my hips against the counter as I held the mug aloft and between my hands.

I was stalling for time. They’d caught me completely off guard and I had no idea what the hell I should tell them and what I would be smart to keep to myself.

“Ma’am?” the Detective said and I knew I had run out of time.

He’d already told me he’d traced the phone and they knew he’d been here. Now I wished I had at least read his texts before deleting them.

Damn me.

I thought it best to stick as close to the truth as I was willing to give them.

“The old man who lived in my guest house was murdered in it the other day. That’s how I met Detective Rowans and we exchanged numbers. Last night I went to the underground looking for answers and Detective Rowans followed me out of concern. He didn’t go in but he was waiting for me in the parking lot next to my car when I came out.”

I hesitated here because I didn’t really want to throw Rally and his shifter buddies under the bus too badly.

But I guess, well, fuck it.

“And then what happened?”

“Shifters showed up and they didn’t like a cop being there. We got in my car and drove off before things could get ugly. The Detective’s car was left there, unfortunately. When we got here I gave him my car keys and let him take my car home. It was nothing to me because I have other vehicles and that one belonged to Thomas…” I cleared the emotion out of my throat before continuing on. “After that I went to bed and I haven’t heard from him since.”

That I knew of. I hadn’t had the chance to look at my phone yet today.

I should have told them about the gps on the car but for some ungodly reason I wasn’t quite ready to give that information up just yet.

“Did you find my car that I let him borrow?” I asked out of genuine curiosity. I was dying here and I desperately wanted to kick them out of my house so I could look at my cell phone. “And you should probably check the mall to see if his car is still there. We were parked in front of the theater.”

“I can’t believe he went there,” the police officer muttered under his breath. “Did he have a death wish or something?”

“What about you?” the Detective asked me sharply. “Did you find what you were looking for there?”

I shook my head. “No.” I’d only left with more questions and absolutely no answers.

“You need to stay away from that place,” the officer told me. “It’s not safe.”

I wished everyone would stop telling me that, like they thought I was dimwitted or something. I knew it wasn’t safe. Everyone knew that.

“What kind of car did you loan him?”

“BMW,” I told the Detective.

“You gave a man you just met the other day your BMW to borrow for the night?”

“No. I told him he could keep it for as long as he wanted to. And he’s not just some strange man I met the other day. He’s a police detective who was very kind to me when I found the only family I had left murdered in my guest house. Then he gave me his number and told me that I wasn’t really alone in the world now because I had him and I could call him any time for anything. So that’s what I did and he went to the mall to make sure I got out of there alive. So, yeah. When he got back here I gave him the keys to one of my cars and told him to get home safe.”

“I find this little story of yours very hard to believe,” the police officer said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

I was just now noticing his size. He was a very big man.

Apparently, I had a type when it came to men in a uniform. And shifters, because I liked them big and broad too.

Good grief. When was the last time I had sex? I wracked my brain. I really needed to get laid. It had been too long and I had sex on the brain far too often for my own good.

“I can believe it,” the Detective muttered and the officer shot him a look that demanded an explanation.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I wanted to know everything I could about my Detective. The only thing I really knew about him was his name and this was unacceptable to me.

The Detective pursed his lips as he stared down at his shoes. “You’re about the age his sister was when she moved into the underground. She traded her normal life in for the high she got off of a bite, and decided she wanted to be a blood donor in the flesh. He tried to get her out of there and get her into a rehab but she wanted no part of any of that. Six months later her body was found drained of blood and floating face down in the river. It really messed with his head and he hasn’t been the same since.”

Was that why he’d originally given me his number? Because something about me reminded him of his dead sister?

Now I felt absolutely terrible for the texts I had sent him and it was no wonder he had come down there for me.

It was also no wonder he hadn’t wanted to sleep with me either.

I owed him an apology when I found him. And, make no mistake, I would find him.