Page 32 of Tide and Seek (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #8)

“Absolutely.” She nodded, fidgeting with the many gold rings on her fingers. “I’ll take a quality piece of black tourmaline over a prescription any day.”

I stared at her like she’d just sprouted a unicorn horn, then forced my expression into something less hostile when Royce coughed beside me, a subtle reminder that I might be veering into a glare.

“I’m sorry, but if one of my patients comes to me with a disease, I’m not reaching for a crystal.

I prefer to put my faith in the science of medicine, not geology. ”

Moonbeam gasped as if I’d declared quartz nothing more than overpriced gravel. “Are you actually saying you don’t believe in the healing power of crystals?”

“I’m not sure crystals have much scientific basis for—” I stopped talking because Moonbeam’s face had turned so red I worried she might be about to have a stroke. “Are you all right?”

“Well… I just… I can’t believe… you’re so dismissive,” she sputtered.

“I don’t mean to be,” I mumbled, but truth be told, I kind of did mean to be dismissive. I felt she was a loon.

“Oh, Moony, of course Maxwell isn’t going to put his faith in crystals. He’s a man of science, silly,” said a tall man with flawlessly styled hair, a puka shell necklace, and an expensive-looking linen pantsuit. “Hello, I’m Phoenix,” he added, leaning in with a wink.

“Hello,” I said, fighting the urge to back out of the room and run back to my beach house.

Phoenix ran a hand over his already perfect hair. “I get where you’re coming from, saying you only trust science, Maxwell, but science is just one framework for understanding reality, you know?”

“Uhhh…” I began.

“Meditation is an amazing tool,” he said. “When I was in corporate, VP of Strategic Development at a Fortune 500 company, I thought everything had to be quantifiable too. But then I had my awakening and realized we need to leverage multiple modalities for optimal consciousness expansion.”

“Consciousness expansion?” I repeated, gladly accepting the glass of white wine C.J. pushed into my hands.

“Absolutely. You must know your consciousness can expand, right?”

I took a gulp of wine so I wouldn’t have to answer him.

He didn’t seem to notice I was stalling. “I teach our Executive Enlightenment classes now. I’m helping former colleagues pivot their spiritual portfolios.” He laughed. “See what I did there?”

I was speechless, and very grateful when Royce put his hand on the small of my back, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

“Maybe I was never a corporate VP or anything,” Moonbeam said. “But I still say crystals are the most important weapon we have against the diseases that attack mankind.” Moonbeam lifted her chin. “And I will die on that hill.”

Phoenix sniggered. “And you very well might die on that hill if you only put your faith in crystals. Am I right, Maxwell?”

I was still fixated on what Moonbeam had said. “Well, I just don’t think your statement is accurate at all, Moon… Moonbeam. If you have diabetes, sucking on a crystal isn’t going to cure you.”

“Of course you don’t suck on the crystal,” Moonbeam said in a mocking tone. “You rub it all over your body and meditate on healing thoughts.”

“Rub it all over your body?” I said, aghast.

“Moonbeam can get off in the weeds sometimes with her crystal fetish, and she loses the plot.” Phoenix gave her a patronizing pat on the head.

“I do not,” grumbled Moonbeam.

He ignored her. “The key is meditation. Listen, Maxwell, try to think of meditation as a high-yield investment in your inner CEO.” Phoenix smiled. “Have you considered the ROI on mindfulness practices?”

I sucked in a calming breath because the two of them were making my blood pressure spike. “Meditation has its place for handling stress, absolutely. But frankly, when it comes to a serious illness, I prefer medications that have gone through clinical trials.”

“Clinical trials are so limiting,” Sage interjected earnestly. “They can’t measure spiritual transformation or energy healing. When I had my awakening in Bali, no Western doctor could have helped me the way my shaman did.”

“I’ll bet.” I took a large gulp of my wine, meeting Royce’s uneasy gaze. Under my breath I said, “Is it too soon to leave?”

He laughed and also took a generous sip of his wine.

“Okay, everyone, let’s not all gang up on Maxwell,” C.J. said suddenly, clearly sensing the conversation was heading toward disaster. “He’s living in Texas now, which must be a very interesting contrast to Malibu, right Maxwell?”

I nodded obediently, grateful she was trying to run interference for me. Being a traditional doctor was apparently like waving a red flag in front of a bull to these woo-woo types. River would have gotten along with them beautifully, which was not a positive in my eyes.

“Oh my God, Texas,” Sage said with genuine sympathy. “All that masculine energy and oil drilling. No wonder you seem so blocked. Have you considered a colon cleanse? I know an amazing practitioner who uses coffee enemas to—”

“I think I need some air,” I said abruptly, turning on my heel and practically fleeing toward the deck with Royce close behind me.

Once outside, Royce murmured, “That went well.”

I couldn’t help laughing, which helped. “I felt like a ball of string at a cat convention.”

“They did kind of zero in on you.”

“Why didn’t they pick on you too?”

He smirked. “Maybe my pure and honorable aura discouraged them.”

“Pfft.” I smiled. “You may be honorable, but you’re not that pure.”

“Thank goodness.”

The deck was spacious and beautifully lit with string lights, offering a perfect view of the dark ocean. Several people were out on the deck, including James who stood near the railing with a cocktail in his hand, and Luke who was hunched over a plate of food at one of the high-top tables.

Among the group outside, I was surprised to recognize my home insurance agent, Jane Martinez. She was an attractive, full-figured woman in her fifties, with short, cropped dark hair.

When she spotted me, she approached with a warm smile. “Max, fancy meeting you here.” She looked refreshingly normal in simple black pants and a blue blouse, with not a bangle or dangling crystal earring in sight.

“I forgot you know C.J.,” I said.

“Oh, yeah. I insure her home, her cars, and her new yoga studio.” She grinned and made a cha-ching sound. “She’s also a good friend.”

“I think C.J. is best friends with everyone in Malibu,” I said. “This is Royce, my partner.”

“Nice to meet you, Royce.” Jane nudged my elbow. “Never pictured you with a sexy macho type, Max. You’re just full of surprises.”

Royce’s face seemed a little rosy at her description of him, but all he said was, “It’s nice to meet you, Jane.”

“Thanks for all your help with the insurance paperwork,” I said. Royce and I had finally managed to do the inventory on the beach house and had sent it off to her.

“Of course. Actually, I was hoping to set up an appointment with you for tomorrow.”

I frowned. “But I don’t think anything was stolen.”

She grimaced. “We do have the original appraisals for your medical collection on file, but they’re several years old now.

Given the recent break-in attempt, I strongly recommend updating your policy.

Collections like that often appreciate in value, and they’re far harder to replace than a TV or laptop. ”

“Oh. Well, I was going to put them in storage for safekeeping. I shouldn’t have left them in the house to begin with. I didn’t realize I was going to stay in Rainy Dale.” I met Royce’s gaze, and he smiled.

Jane smiled at our quiet interaction. “Naturally, putting your collection in storage would help mitigate risk, but you’ll still want to keep them insured. Storage units can be broken into too.”

I frowned. “I guess that’s true.” I turned to Royce. “Do you mind if I meet with Jane tomorrow?”

“Of course not. I can amuse myself while you’re gone.” He gave me a reassuring smile.

“Okay.” I met Jane’s gaze. “What time were you thinking? Wait—do you work on Saturdays?”

“Not usually.” She laughed. “But you’re only here a short while, and next week is crazy for me. I want to be sure we get you in.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am. How about we meet at my office in Malibu at 11:00 a.m.? Does that work for you?”

“Sure.”

“Great.” She looked pleased. “So, Royce, I understand you’re the sheriff of Rainy Dale?”

“I am.”

As Royce chatted with Jane, a crazy idea struck me.

Over lunch, it had been clear that both Royce and I wanted marriage someday, but I wanted to be the one to propose.

I needed to show Royce I wanted it every bit as much as he did.

With that in mind, it might be very romantic if I proposed to him on this trip.

He wouldn’t expect it. The problem was I didn’t have a ring.

When I popped the question, I wanted to do it properly, with something elegant.

Definitely something nicer than I could find in Rainy Dale.

Jane’s request that I meet her in town tomorrow was the perfect opportunity to go ring shopping.

I’d be on my own, and there was no question the selection would be better in Malibu than in a little town like Rainy Dale.

My heart raced at the thought of buying rings and actually proposing to Royce on this trip.

He wouldn’t see it coming, which would make it all the more special.

“Well, it was so nice meeting you, Royce,” Jane said, cutting into my thoughts. “I’m going to go refresh my drink and snag some of that barbecued shrimp I saw inside. I’ll see you tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. Max.”

“I’ll be there,” I said brightly, barely able to contain my excitement at the idea of shopping for a ring for Royce.

“She’s nice,” Royce said, as we watched Jane go inside the house.

“Jane’s great. I was lucky to find her.”

“Maxwell,” a familiar male voice called from behind me.

I groaned inwardly and turned to see Phoenix approaching with what looked like a martini glass filled with something disturbingly green. “I made this for you.”