Chapter One Hundred Nineteen
Xavier
I sit across from Jake’s desk, rubbing exhaustion from my eyes while he flips through a thin stack of paperwork.
I barely slept.
Someone had been inside Ruby’s house while I was fifteen feet away. Close enough to hear the shower running and know exactly when to move.
By daylight, I’d already replaced the damaged window screen. The old one gave the police nothing. No usable prints. Just another dead-end.
A whiff of burnt coffee drifts through the station as Jake drops a file onto his desk. “Alright.”
“What’d you get?”
“Brent was home when we got there. Mud in the entryway and on a pair of tennis shoes.”
My stomach tightens. “And?”
“He said he got caught in the rain before it turned to sleet.”
“Bullshit.”
“Maybe. But I can’t arrest a guy for having dirty shoes after a storm.”
“He look nervous?”
“Annoyed. Not surprised.” Jake flips a page as the phone at the front desk rings. “Said if you keep accusing him, he’s getting a restraining order.”
I lean back. “Wonderful.”
The dispatcher answers the phone mid-ring. I miss when Ruby did that at the shop. Now, the damn thing just keeps ringing.
“He also suggested we should be looking at you.”
“What?” My head jerks back so hard that my neck pops.
“Says you're doing this to frame him because he warned Ruby about you.”
“Fucking asshole.”
“Ramirez talked to Greg too.”
“Alibi?” I should be thanking Jake for pulling me into this. Anywhere else, I’d know nothing about the case beyond what I reported. But, right now, his lack of useful information is pissing me off.
“His girlfriend says they were together most of the night.”
“Greg has a girlfriend?”
Jake gives me a look. “Apparently.”
That makes no sense. If both Brent and Greg had girlfriends, why would they be stalking Ruby? It’s one thing to advise her that I’m not boyfriend material, but it’s another thing entirely to have girlfriends while being obsessed with another girl. Those two don’t usually go hand in hand.
“Both their vehicles were warm though when they were questioned.”
Meaning they'd recently been somewhere. “Handwriting?”
Jake slides two samples across the desk. Neither looks anything like the note.
“Doesn’t mean much,” I say.
“No. Anyone with half a brain would disguise their handwriting.”
I look at the copies again.
Leave her alone.
Different from the earlier warnings. This one was meant for me.
Jake picks up an ink pen, twirling it between his fingers. “I know I’m not supposed to say anything to you, but Ruby is staying with her dad. She’s safe there.”
“I’m glad.” I rotate my shoulders. “I figured that’s where she was staying. She’s safer there than here in town.”
“You staying at the house tonight?” Jake asks.
“Yes.”
“You sure that’s smart?”
“No.” But I’m not leaving it empty.
Jake watches me for a second. “I’m calling Ruby later. She needs to know somebody got inside again.”
My chest tightens as I stand. I hate the thought of her hearing it, but he's right.
“If you see anything tonight, call me before you go sprinting barefoot through the woods again.”
“No promises.”
“Idiot.”
My phone buzzes before I reach the door. Dad. “What?”
“You planning to work today, or have you permanently moved into Ruby’s living room?”
“What happened?”
“Problem with the 8th Street delivery.”
“What kind?”
“The expensive kind.”
I close my eyes. “I’m on my way.”
I shove my phone into my pocket and head for the door, already preparing to put out a different kind of fire.