Page 39 of Tide and Seek (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #8)

“I’m positive. Really, I’ll be right as rain by the time you get back. Go on, get. You have downward-facing dogs to accomplish.”

“I don’t plan on taking a class. I just want to see her studio.”

I laughed. “You poor, naive fool. You must know C.J. is going to make you take a yoga class.”

“She can’t make me.” He bent down and kissed me, then straightened.

I smirked. “Wanna bet? This is C.J. we’re talking about.”

He exhaled, then cast me a forlorn glance before leaving.

Once Max was gone, I decided I should get up and shower.

I hoped moving around might help the residual booze leave my system.

In the luxurious shower, I let the hot water pound against my neck and shoulders until some of the fog began to clear.

The engagement ring caught the light as I reached for the shampoo, and despite my headache, I couldn’t help smiling.

I was engaged to Max, and he’d taken me completely by surprise.

Sometimes life astounded you in the best possible ways.

By the time I made it downstairs and out onto the deck, the morning marine layer was burning off and actual sunshine was breaking through.

I settled into one of the patio chairs, hoping some vitamin D might finish what the shower had started.

The sun felt warm on my face, and it really did seem to help my mood and headache.

I was in the kitchen fixing my second cup of coffee when I heard sounds from the front of the house.

At the sound of a key turning the lock on the front door, I assumed that Max was home much earlier than he’d predicted.

Smiling, I set my mug down on the island and headed toward the front to greet Max.

But when the door swung open, it wasn’t Max.

I stepped back in surprise when I recognized Ethan in his Coastal Pest Solutions uniform.

He didn’t notice me at first as he turned toward the alarm pad.

His brow furrowed when he saw it wasn’t armed, and then he glanced over and spotted me.

He froze, his face going white as a sheet when our eyes met.

“Ethan?” I stared at him in confusion. “I didn’t realize you were coming today.”

He made a gulping sound, and he shut the door. “Uh… hey.” His voice cracked. “I... I didn’t know anyone was home. The car’s not in the driveway. I thought you went to meet C.J.”

“Yeah, Max went to meet her, but I wasn’t feeling well so I stayed behind.” I frowned. “I thought you weren’t going to spray the inside of the house until Max and I left on Thursday?”

He didn’t respond and he was staring at me with such a horrified expression, the hairs on the back of my neck stiffened. Something was definitely not right. He didn’t just look like a service guy embarrassed to walk in on someone. He looked petrified.

“Listen, you’re going to think I’m nuts, but…” He gave a nervous glance over his shoulder at the door and then took a step toward me. “You need to get out of here, now.”

“What?” I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He gritted his teeth. “I can’t explain. There’s no time. Just go out the back, hurry.”

“Why would I do that?” I grated.

“Because he’s right behind me,” he hissed, eyes wide. “He can’t find you here. Don’t you understand? Please, I’m begging you to just go out the back, quickly.”

“Who’s right behind you? Ethan, you’re not making any sense.”

“God,” he wailed, giving another panicked glance over his shoulder. “Why won’t you listen to me? He’s dangerous. Please, just go.” His face was flushed and there was the sheen of perspiration on his cheeks. “If he finds you here, he won’t let you live.”

“If you’re in danger—”

“I’m not in danger,” he growled. “You are.”

As he finished speaking, the front door squeaked open and another man slipped inside. I recognized him immediately. He looked much the same as when Max and I had first met him—impeccably dressed in black slacks, a crisp white shirt, Italian loafers. There was one glaring difference.

Today he had a gun.

When Stiles saw me, his face hardened, and his hand went to the shoulder holster tucked beneath his arm. “Ethan,” he said in a clipped voice. “I thought you said no one would be home today?”

Ethan’s face was ashen and he stared at me with hollow eyes. “No one was supposed to be home.”

Stiles shook his head, lip curled. “This entire operation has been one cluster fuck after another. Why is it so hard to get good help?”

Ethan said nothing.

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” I kept my voice steady, trying to hide the churning fear inside me.

There was no question I was in trouble. Ethan’s fear had been very real, and staring into Stiles’s cold brown eyes, I understood why.

Gone was the warmth and charm he’d used on Max and me the day we first met.

His gaze was chilled and emotionless, and I wished I’d listened to Ethan’s warnings.

Sighing, Stiles murmured, “Well, Royce, we have a problem. Unfortunately, you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you weren’t a cop, maybe I could have bullshitted my way out of this awkward situation, but we both know that isn’t going to work on you.”

“No. Probably not.”

“That leaves me only one option. Not a pleasant one for you.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. You seem like a nice guy. But I have very dangerous business associates breathing down my neck because that moron over there bungled things so badly, he didn’t get his shipment on time.”

Ethan scowled. “How was I supposed to know Margie changed the damn passcode?”

“You were her pal,” Stiles snapped. “I told you to watch her. I told you we couldn’t trust her.”

“Hey, it was fucking Luke who pointed the cops in her direction as his supplier, not me. It’s not my fault she turned on us.”

Stiles met my gaze. “See what I mean? It’s impossible to get good help. They’re all either druggies or idiots.”

“You shouldn’t talk to me that disrespectfully,” rumbled Ethan.

Stiles laughed. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it? You work for me, remember, not the other way around.”

“So, this whole thing has been about drugs?” I said, frowning.

“Pretty much.” Stiles sighed.

“Why break into Max’s house?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Take a guess.”

“The drugs are here?” My voice rose. “Where?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “You’re too nosy. Why should I tell you anything else?”

“What does it hurt?” I held his surly gaze. “You’re apparently going to kill me. What do you care if I get some answers first?”

He seemed to consider that. “Nah, I think you’re just stalling. This isn’t Murder, She Wrote, with the final confessional scene. We need to get a move on. Your boyfriend will be back soon. Or were you hoping he’d rescue you?”

That comment put the fear of God into me. The longer we stood here talking, the more likely it was Max might get caught up in this nightmare. “You make a good point. I’ve heard enough. Get on with whatever it is you’re here to do.”

Stiles grunted. “You’re a real tough guy, huh?” He moved closer, raising the gun. “How come you don’t seem scared? Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

I stared into the dark circle of the Glock’s barrel as a chill spread through me. “I don’t want to die, but I ain’t afraid of it neither.”

Stiles’s expression was spiteful as he aimed at my chest. “I’d be willing to bet blood gushing out of a hole in your chest would scare you plenty.”

My mouth went dry as I held his spiteful gaze.

“Boss, you can’t shoot him,” Ethan said in a panicked voice. “We need to get in and out. You can’t leave a dead body behind. Remember, you wanted it to look like nothing bad happened here? You shoot him and there will be blood. We don’t have time to clean that up.”

Stiles’s mouth thinned and I could see the recklessness in his eyes. I really thought he was going to pull the trigger just to show me he was boss. But then he lowered it and gave a cold smile. “Good thinking, Ethan. I guess even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

Ethan slumped and I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

“Tie him up,” Stiles barked. “We need to get the drugs in your van and then we’ll deal with him.”

“What are we doing with him?” Ethan asked apprehensively.

“He’s going to have an unfortunate accident.”

Ethan blanched. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?” Stiles sneered.

“I just mean, what exactly are we going to do to him?”

Stiles gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to drug him and then the poor slob is going to drown in those rock cave things at the end of the beach.”

Ethan’s face twitched. “Oh.”

“Now go get some rope out of your van so we can tie this mother fucker up and get on with our work.”

“Yes, sir,” Ethan said.

Stiles kept the gun trained on me while Ethan was gone. He didn’t say anything, which surprised me. He seemed like the type who’d run his mouth to show what a big man he was. But he was silent, just staring at me with his cold, dead eyes.

When Ethan returned, he led me to a chair at the dining room table.

I figured if I was going to fight them, now was the time.

Once I was tied up, I’d be easier to kill.

Ethan moved toward me with the rope, his hands shaking.

I pretended like I was going to obediently sit down in the chair, but as Ethan reached for my arm, I swung hard with my right fist, catching him square in the jaw.

His head snapped back and he stumbled, dropping the rope.

“Damn it,” Stiles cursed, raising his gun.

I lunged for Ethan again, hoping to use him as a shield, but my reflexes were still sluggish from last night’s champagne. Ethan recovered faster than I’d expected, grabbing my wrist and twisting hard. We went down in a tangle of limbs, crashing into the coffee table.

I got in one more good hit to his ribs before Stiles joined the fight, using the butt of his gun to clip me behind the ear. Stars exploded across my vision, and my coordination went to hell. With two of them pinning me down, the fight was over before it really began.