Page 7

IF AN ALIEN landed on Earth and demanded Ruby explain the phrase "suburban hell," she'd open her Google Maps, type this address in, and let them take it all in.

She sat in the front seat of the truck, arms crossed, the hem of her tennis skirt brushing against her thigh as Jonah adjusted his grip on the steering wheel beside her.

Kavya fiddled with a camera in the backseat, the lens glinting with each pass of sunlight.

In front of them stood a cookie-cutter house, white with a gray roof, its immaculate exterior looking like something out of a real estate brochure.

The white picket fence was so cliche it hurt, the shrubs along the walkway neatly pruned, the grass the perfect shade of artificial green.

Ruby’s personal favorite—and the undeniable standout—was the bright pink Cadillac parked in the driveway, its vibrant hue clashing boldly against the house's muted, drab tones.

"Well," Ruby sighed. tugging at the sleeve of her vintage Ralph Lauren sweater as she stared at the house, "If I was a criminal, this is exactly where I’d hide.”

Jonah gave her a side glance. "It's a nice house."

"Too nice," she muttered as she stepped out of the car. "Feels like I'm stepping into a creepy dollhouse."

Her skirt had twisted during the drive and she shifted it back into place.

Back at the hotel, she had taken a quick shower and changed before checking out.

Growing up, her family had been free school meals and Goodwill clothes shopping poor.

Enough money to keep food on the table and the lights on, but not much else.

Now that she had money, she couldn’t use it at fancy restaurants or good wine.

The TCA wouldn’t let her leave the US, so international travel was out of the question.

And she worked so much that a house was pointless.

So, she donated most of her money and splurged the rest on fancy clothes.

Her therapist called retail therapy a “toxic coping mechanism”.

She called it healing her inner child, a fancy phrase she had found while Googling around for a new therapist.

Ruby supposed her first time in front of a camera should make her nervous, maybe self-conscious, about being filmed.

But being an immortal hunting down another immortal made this whole thing feel more like a child’s game than an actual case.

She glanced over her shoulder at Kavya, who tested various angles with the camera.

It sat heavy on her shoulder, the device almost as big as her.

As Jonah adjusted his jacket, he gave the camera a brief, professional smile.

“Our target today bailed on parole two years ago. Since then, he’s been breaking into houses, living in them for a few months at a time, typically while the owners are on vacation.

” Jonah’s lively voice made Ruby wince, the energetic kind of tone that would hook viewers instantly.

“We’re looking for someone going by the name ‘Blake’. ”

Jonah glanced down at the file in his hand. “Blake is wanted for aggravated robbery, assaulting an officer, skipping parole, and fleeing the state.”

Ruby peered over at the file, frowning. “I don’t see a picture of Blake.”

Jonah shrugged. “There usually is one. Guess our head honcho is slipping up.”

“Our head honcho?”

“Lucas,” he mouthed over his shoulder with a nod toward the camera.

“I knew who you were referring to.” She jeered out of the corner of her mouth. “It was just such a lame expression I had to double check I heard you correctly.”

He shot her a narrow look, but she only responded with a cheeky grin before heading toward the front door.

Jonah trailed behind, still skeptical, his lips pulling into a cheesy smile.

Kavya followed, the camera balanced on her shoulder.

Two wooden rocking chairs, which looked like they'd never been used, sat on the porch.

The door opened before Jonah could knock. A stunning blonde flitted in the doorway, her curls bouncing in place as if she were in a shampoo commercial. She stood nearly six feet tall, perched on five-inch stilettos—indoors, at ten in the morning.

“Hi!” the blonde chirped, her smile wide and artificially white. She didn’t blink. “Can I help you?”

Jonah hesitated, clearly thrown off by the woman’s radiant appearance. “Uh, sorry. Did we catch you on your way out?”

The woman cocked her head to the side. “No?”

“It’s definitely her,” Ruby mumbled under her breath, eyeing the heels. Kavya snorted behind the camera.

Jonah smiled warmly, although the corner of his eye twitched. “Hi, sorry to bother you.” He stepped a little closer. “I’m looking for Blake.”

The blonde’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second as she saw the camera on Kavya’s shoulder. She leaned back, only slightly, her fingers tightening on the edge of the door. “That’s me. Blakely Jones. Can I help you with something?”

Jonah cleared his throat, momentarily confused. “We’re looking for—”

“A Mary Kay consultant,” Ruby interrupted smoothly, eyes gleaming with amusement as she took over. “We booked an appointment online. Saw the Cadillac and figured I was in the right place.”

Blakely’s face froze in a confused grimace. “You’re here to buy makeup?”

Jonah shook his head. “No, we—”

“We are absolutely here to buy makeup.” Ruby grinned, stepping around Jonah and ramming his shoulder in the process. She extended her hand. “Ruby. Do you mind if we film? We’re a small couples influencer channel.”

Blakely hesitated, her grip tightening on the door.

For a second, it seemed like she was going to slam it in her face.

Instead, she opened it wider, offering a grimace disguised as a strained smile.

“Not at all. Blakely. Mary Kay consultant.” She stuck out her hand for Ruby to shake.

“How do you feel about black eyeshadow?”

“She loves it.” Jonah gave Ruby a push into the house.

Blakely led them into a cozy den, where a wide array of products and a large cosmetics mirror were neatly arranged on an oak desk.

The room had a picture-perfect view of the backyard, with a sturdy tree and children’s toys scattered around the grass.

Blakely pulled out a chair and motioned for Ruby to sit.

“I always start with a complimentary makeover so you can see the products in action.”

“Really? I’ve never had someone offer free samples outside of a makeup counter before.”

Blakely rolled her shoulders back. “Do they not?”

“Who?”

She forced a smile. “Your previous sellers? That’s surprising. It’s part of our training.” She cleared her throat. “For you, I’m thinking more gothic—maybe a uh, dark eyeshadow, and um, a bold purple lip?”

“That’s so generous of you,” Jonah chimed in, his laughter hollow and rehearsed. “I think it’ll be fun to try something new, huh, babe?”

“Mhm,” Ruby muttered, rubbing her nose with her middle finger as Blakely moved through the room with exaggerated confidence, flinging open drawers and cabinets.

“Ah, here we are,” Blakely announced, peering into a drawer full of mismatched batteries and a lone screwdriver. She hesitated for only a second before shutting it quickly. “Not that one, obviously. Just making sure everything’s in order.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow but said nothing, watching as Blakely strode to a lower cabinet and yanked it open.

“Of course, right where I—oh!” Blakely froze, her cheeks flushing as she stared down at a bright pink dildo lying atop a heap of mismatched scarves.

Ruby tilted her head. “Found something useful?” The size of the thing left her both impressed and intimidated by its girth.

Blakely snapped the cabinet shut with a sharp laugh. “Just... some sentimental items! You know how it is. Memories everywhere in a home like this.” She dusted her hands and pivoted back to the task at hand, her cheeks a little pinker than they’d been moments before.

Blakely didn’t look back as she laid out the brushes, but the faintest blush lingered on her cheeks. In another drawer she found a few containers of foundation, an eyeshadow palette, and a handful of tiny lip colors.

Jonah stared at the backyard. Various toys scattered across the lawn. “How old are your kids?” he asked casually.

“Kids?” Blakely’s hand paused mid-motion, strangling a tube of foundation. Her eyes flicked toward the toys and back to the products on the desk. “Oh, they’re for my nephews.”

Jonah smirked. The photos on the bookcase clearly showed a little girl with curly hair.

“How long have you lived in the neighborhood?” Ruby tilted her head, feigning interest. “Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting you yet, and I haven’t seen you at any of the barbecues.”

Did people even still have barbecues? The flushing across Blakely’s chest showed she wasn’t sure either. Her hand waved dismissively, the flush creeping up her neck. “Only a few months,” she cleared her throat.

Before she could reach for her sunglasses, Ruby gently caught her wrist. “Sorry, these stay on. Eye infection.” She flashed a tight smile.

“How am I supposed to…are those Versace?” Blakely asked, leaning forward and examining the logo in the corner.

“Yes?”

Blakely’s hand twitched toward the glasses. “I’ll just, uh, avoid them.”

The foundation came down like mortar being slapped on a brick wall. Jonah grinned down at Blakely. “Do you happen to have a criminal record, Blakely?”

The blonde jolted, accidentally jabbing a makeup brush halfway up Ruby’s nose. “Sorry!” Blakely blurted, her hands trembling slightly. “No, can’t say I have. Why?”

“Can’t be too careful about who I let around my pookie-kins,” he replied innocently, catching Ruby’s side-eye. He patted her hand. She kicked him beneath the table.

Blakely’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.