Page 5 of Cursed by Death (Ruby Jane #1)

I had told the truth. Mostly. I mean, I didn’t know what had happened or who had murdered Thomas.

I left Bane and Roan out of it though. They could do their explaining to me when I found them.

Detective Johnny Rowans eyed me like he knew I had been lying to him about something but he didn’t have proof so he wasn’t going to come right out and accuse me or call me out on my lies.

He was an attractive man in what I’d guess to be his late thirties. His black hair was sprinkled with white at the temples. His eyes were a light blue. They were cold and certainly not kind.

Not only was he suspicious of me from word one but I was fairly certain the man just did not like me upon eyesight.

If I was a different kind of person it might hurt my feelings.

Alas, I was not.

“You’re telling me you just came home and found him like this? And you have no idea who could have done this to him or of anyone who wanted to hurt him?”

“No. Of course not,” I said as I frowned at the detective.

“And it’s just the two of you here?”

“Yes. I live in the big house by myself and Thomas lives out in the guest house. Lived. It’s only ever been just the two of us.”

“And, you said he’s not a relative, correct?”

I sighed heavily as I crossed my arms over my chest. “No. He was my grandmother’s attorney. When she died he sort of became mine and he was something of my… handler. He was the only family I had left.”

I didn’t care if that made sense to the detective or not. It was the absolute truth.

“You have no family, you say?” he murmured. “Your last name is Maredo. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Johnathan Maredo and lying to me about it now, would you?”

Son of a bitch.

Now I understood where his suspicion and disdain for me came from.

Johnathan Maredo was my father’s name. Of course, a police detective would know the name of the man who ran the dirty underbelly of this city.

I should have changed my last name the second I turned eighteen.

I figured there was no point in lying to this man because something told me he’d be able to see right through it. To see right through me.

Anyway, you couldn’t help who you were born to.

“Jonathan Maredo is my biological fathers name,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

The detective arched an arrogant eyebrow as he leveled me with a dark look. “Johnathan Maredo doesn’t have any known children.”

Well, that was a relief to hear.

Still, was he calling me a liar? Asshole.

“My mother was gunned down outside of our condo when I was a little girl. He abandoned me not long after that and I grew up in foster care. So that’s why I call him my biological father, because he is not my dad. He’s an asshole and, no, he’s never once contacted me or even attempted to contact me that I know of. So, don’t even think about using that asshole’s last name against me because that would just make you an asshole too. And, detective, the world already has too many assholes in it.”

“Not many people know about his wife being shot. And, if they do, they sure as fuck don’t talk about it out of fear of what the man might do to them. If what you’re saying is true, then you should consider yourself lucky. A life growing up with that man…” he trailed off and shook his head as if he were at a loss for words.

I would never consider myself lucky in any way, shape, or form. If he had raised me instead of abandoning me then I never would have gone to live at Harmond House with Catherine and I never would have gone through hell at her hands.

No, lucky I was not and never would be.

But that I could not explain to this man because it wasn’t something I had ever spoken to anyone about. And I would not be breaking my silence today.

“I know you’ve got a security system because it was the company that phoned the police. You wouldn’t happen to have cameras with that system too, would ya?”

Oh boy.

You couldn’t see the cameras so it’s not like he’d know I was lying. And the cameras had nothing to do with the security system. They’d been installed separately and were done by a man who ran a PI firm. He was under strict contract and couldn’t actually tell people they’d been installed.

The only way the detective would have known I was lying was if I invited him down to the basement and showed him my wall of screens. Since that wasn’t going to happen any time soon I had nothing to worry about.

I couldn’t show him the footage right now though. Maybe not ever.

I had to find Bane and Roan first. I had to protect them. I owed them that much after how many times they tried to protect me.

I’d never turn on them, even if it had been years since I had seen them. I would always consider them to be mine in some way.

To the detective, I simply shook my head in the negative. It made the lie come out easier.

“Pity,” he muttered.

I hummed in noncommittal agreement.

Fuck. I did not like lying to this man for some reason.

We stood next to the garage and watched in silence as they brought out a stretcher with a body bag on it. A bag with Thomas’s body in it.

I wanted to cry.

I did not cry.

“Someone will contact you when the body can be released. But it will likely take a bit longer than normal because this is now a murder investigation and we’ll need to collect all the evidence we can before then.”

I appreciated him sharing this information with me because it would be me who made arrangements for what happened to his body. “And the guest house?” I asked. “How soon will it be okay for me to have a cleaning crew here to… clean up the mess?”

“As soon as we leave.”

That was a relief. I didn’t think I would ever go in there again but the thought of Thomas’s blood still all over the floor turned my stomach.

I’d have to contact a moving company too. To pack up his belongings and take them… somewhere. I couldn’t have them here, serving me reminders of what I had lost.

“Ruby?” Detective Rowans called out gently, getting my full attention once again. “Are you alright?”

With my focus back on the man, I was surprised to see that his face had gentled along with his voice, and he no longer looked like he did not like me. Instead, he looked concerned for me and, dare I say it, kind.

Huh.

Half an hour ago I wouldn’t have said I thought he had that in him.

“No, Detective,” I answered him honestly. “I am not. Thomas was the only person I had in this world and now he’s dead. I’m all alone and someone came and murdered him. Alright is not a word I will likely use to describe myself again any time soon.”

Or ever again.

“That’s understandable.” he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He opened it up and took out a card, which he then held out to me between his fingers. “Take it. It has my cell number on it. Use it whenever you want to or need to. For anything any time. No one should be alone in this world and you’re not going to be if you take this card and use it. Okay? You’ll have me now.”

I hesitated briefly but eventually took the smooth card from his outstretched fingers. My tongue was completely tied up in knots and I had not one thing to say to that.