Page 235 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

Yeah. Exactly for her.

"Just so we’re clear," I mutter, dragging a hand down my face, "I officially hate you right now."

Rourke’s smirk widens.

"And you're uninvited for Christmas."

He laughs as I slam the door in his smug goddamn face.

Sundays are supposed to be for relaxing.

Self-care. Bath bombs. Maybe a Netflix marathon where I cry over fictional people’s fake problems and pretend mine don’t exist.

Which is why I’m currently standing in my living room with a green seaweed mask drying on my face, my hair wrapped in a pink microfiber towel, and Dexter freshly blow-dried and pawfumed—when there’s a sharp, very official-sounding knock.

Dexter launches into a barking fit like he’s guarding Fort Knox.

I shuffle to the door in my slippers and peer through the peephole.

Two plainclothes detectives. Not ones I recognize.

Fabulous.

I open the door, keeping my expression somewhere between confused neighbor and concerned citizen.

They flash badges.

“Detective Marsden,” the older one says, voice rough like he chews gravel.

“This is Detective Liu,” adds the younger—alert, too observant for comfort. “We’d like to ask a few questions.”

Oh good gravy.

I scoop Dexter into my arms, partly to hide my shaking hands, partly to weaponize his small-dog complex as “nerves.”

Liu pulls out a photograph—and the air freezes in my lungs.

It’s the rideshare driver. The Houseguest.

Victim number two.

The one Dexter nearly tried to French kiss via severed eyeball.

I blink slowly, tilting my head. “Sure. What’s this about?”

“Just tell us what you know about him,” Marsden says.

“Not much,” I shrug. “He drove me home once. Picked me up again a few days later, made small talk about traffic.”

I adjust Dexter, trying to burn off the nerves sparking under my skin.

“May I ask what this is about?”

“His body was pulled from the Hudson River,” Marsden says.

Insert shocked gasp here. Maybe a “my goodness” for good measure.

“We found a storage unit registered under one of his aliases,” Liu adds. “It had evidence suggesting a long history of crimes. Pictures. Journals. Recordings.”

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