Page 17 of Cursed by Death

Part of it was me feeling good that I was able to do something to help him. The other part was me being gleeful over the fact that the car had GPS that I could spy on directly from my phone. I would now know exactly where the Detective spent his time if he went there with my car. I hoped he never got his back.

It was a bit stalkerish and I did not care in the slightest. There was zero shame in my game.

Chapter 9

Igroaned 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.

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