Page 42 of Tide and Seek (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #8)

I sat at the dining room table, trying to decide if maybe calling Deputy Gonzalez was the smarter move. I tried to force my racing thoughts into some kind of logical order, but my emotions kept getting in the way.

My gaze drifted across the polished wood surface of the table, cataloging everything that didn’t make sense in a sort of hazy panic.

Royce’s abandoned cell phone. Royce’s coffee mug from this morning, still on the table.

Royce was meticulous about rinsing his cups and dishes.

One of the dining room chairs was pulled away from the table and turned sideways. Why?

That’s when I saw it.

A small object under the edge of that chair, barely visible against the dark hardwood floor. At first glance it looked like nothing—a bit of orange plastic, the kind of packaging debris that could have come from anywhere. The mail, a product wrapper, something innocuous.

But my pulse jumped because I knew exactly what it was.

I pushed back from the table and crossed to the other chair, crouching down to get a better look without touching it. My hands were shaking as I leaned closer.

A needle cap. The bright orange safety cap from a syringe.

To anyone else, it would look like nothing more than a stray piece of plastic, the kind of thing you’d sweep up and forget about.

But I knew better.

That particular shade of orange, that exact size and shape. I knew it was a syringe cap. No mistaking it. And there was no reason for one to be here.

My stomach dropped.

If there was a syringe involved, Royce hadn’t just walked out of here.

He hadn’t gone for a spontaneous walk on the beach or decided to visit a neighbor.

Someone had injected him with something.

Someone had done something to him, right here in my house, while I was at C.J.

’s yoga studio talking about meditation and green tea.

My mind was already racing through the horrifying possibilities, each one worse than the last. What had they injected him with?

Where had they taken him? How long ago had this happened?

Was he even still alive? That last thought took the wind out of me.

I had to brace myself on the floor because I felt lightheaded.

No. I couldn’t let myself think that way.

Royce had to be okay.

I pulled out my phone with trembling fingers. Calling Deputy Gonzalez was probably a smarter move than calling Hartley. Gonzalez liked Royce and he’d been very helpful to us during our time here. If I was going to have any help from law enforcement, odds were Gonzalez was my best bet.

I dialed the Lost Hills Station, and after a transfer, Gonzalez picked up.

“Deputy Gonzalez speaking.”

“Hi, Deputy Gonzalez, it’s Dr. Thornton.”

There was a brief silence. “Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Thornton?”

I winced. “I… I know you’re probably very busy, but I… I can’t find Royce.”

“What do you mean you can’t find him?”

“I left him here at my beach house earlier today. He was feeling a little under the weather, but he was gone when I got back. His phone’s here, which makes no sense.”

“Well, he could have gone out to get something to eat.”

I gripped my phone. “I had the car. And he wouldn’t just leave like that. The neighbors haven’t seen him. He’s not out on the beach. He didn’t leave a note. He’s just… gone. That’s simply not like him.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up. Sheriff Callum seemed like someone who can handle himself just fine.”

“Yes, I know. I agree.” I swallowed hard. “But I found something. A syringe cap on the floor under a chair.”

“Okay.” I heard the sound of shifting papers. “But you’re a doctor.”

I frowned. “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Maybe it fell out of your clothing.”

I blew out an impatient breath. “I don’t have syringe caps in my pockets. What are you talking about? There’s no reason a cap of that type should be on my dining room floor.”

The paper shuffling stopped. “So what are you saying, Dr. Thornton?”

“I think someone drugged Royce and forced him to leave with them.”

“Look, I understand you’re worried,” Gonzalez said, his tone patronizing. “But he’s an adult, and I’m not sure you finding a syringe cap on the floor adds up to foul play.”

“So the fact that he might be drugged and kidnapped is of no consequence to you?” My voice was harsher than intended, but my frustration was surging.

I’d really hoped that Deputy Gonzalez would do something to help find Royce.

If he wouldn’t help me, who the hell would?

I wasn’t going to get far with just Luke.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not willing to help me.”

He let out a long, tired breath. “How about I send a unit out to look around? Will that help you feel better?”

“That would be great, but we need to search the area.”

“Dr. Thornton, I can’t just order a search because a grown man is missing for a few hours.” His voice was painted with irritation. “Surely you understand that?”

“No, of course I don’t understand. I’m telling you something bad has happened.” My voice shook. “I can’t possibly find him on my own.”

“Did you two maybe have a fight and he’s just cooling off?”

I held my phone away from my ear, scowling, then said, “No, we didn’t have a fight. In fact, we got engaged last night.”

“Oh.” He hesitated. “Well, he wouldn’t be the first guy to have second thoughts.”

“He didn’t have second thoughts,” I growled. “And if he had, Royce would have talked to me about it. He’s not the sort of person to just ghost me. Something is wrong. You have to help me.”

“Look, I’ll send an officer over to take your missing person’s statement.

Now, I’m doing that as a courtesy, Dr. Thornton.

Most people have to come into the station.

Then I say you give it till tomorrow morning.

If you still haven’t heard from Royce by then, you go ahead and give me another call, okay? ” He disconnected the call.

Swearing under my breath, I set my phone down, feeling lost.

A half hour later, the deputy Gonzalez sent showed up. He was young, maybe in his late twenties, with the kind of earnest expression that suggested he took his job seriously. His nameplate read Johnson.

“Dr. Thornton, I’m going to take a look around if that’s all right with you,” he said.

I nodded mutely, following him as he moved through the house. He checked each room methodically, opening closets, looking behind doors. It all felt a bit ridiculous. Did he seriously think Royce was hiding in a closet? When we reached the hallway, his gaze landed on the attic access.

“Mind if I check up there?” he asked, tugging his flashlight off his utility belt.

“Go ahead,” I said, knowing full well it was a waste of time.

He pulled down the ladder with ease and climbed up, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness above. “It’s empty,” he called down after a minute. “Just insulation. No signs of disturbance.”

“Okay,” I said dully. With every passing minute, I was feeling more and more hopeless.

We were wasting precious time. Royce wasn’t in this house.

He hadn’t changed his mind about marrying me and run away.

Something had happened to him. Someone had taken him.

But the cops weren’t taking me seriously. It was infuriating.

Johnson descended the ladder and pushed it back into place, dusting off his hands. “Let’s check the beach.”

Both Luke and I had already done that, and neither of us had found any sign of Royce.

But at least Johnson was taking his role in finding Royce seriously.

We walked out onto the deck and down the steps to the sand.

Johnson scanned the shoreline in both directions, then he walked to the water’s edge and began to walk the length of the private beach.

I watched him make his way down to the end of the beach in both directions, the entire time, my stomach churning with stress.

We’re wasting so much precious time.

“I’m not seeing anything,” he said, returning to where I stood after a bit. “Let’s go back inside and I’ll take your report.”

Back at the dining table, Johnson pulled out a form and began asking questions: name, age, physical description, last time seen, what Royce had been wearing.

I answered each one mechanically, my mind still racing with possibilities I didn’t want to think about.

When I showed him the orange syringe cap I’d found on the floor, he slipped on a pair of gloves, photographed it where it lay, then sealed it in an evidence envelope before setting it aside.

“And you said his phone, wallet, and keys are all here?”

“Yes. Everything’s here except him.”

Johnson made a note. “Any reason to believe he might have left voluntarily? Argument, anything like that?”

“No,” I said testily. “We got engaged last night. We were celebrating. He had a hangover this morning, that’s all.”

“Congratulations,” Johnson said automatically, then seemed to realize how inappropriate that sounded given the circumstances. “I mean—I’m sorry. We’ll file the report and get his information out to patrol units. Is there a recent photo I can include?”

I pulled up a picture on my phone from two days ago, Royce smiling at the camera with the ocean behind him. Johnson leaned over to look, then handed me a card with his number. “Text that to me so I can attach it to the report.” He jotted a few more notes and then stood.

“We’ll keep our eyes open, Dr. Thornton. In the meantime, if he contacts you or if you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“That’s it?” I stared at him. “You’re just leaving?”

“I’ll file the report and get this in the system right away. But right now there’s no evidence of foul play, no signs of a struggle.” There was a hint of sympathy in his green eyes. “What I can tell you is that most missing persons cases are resolved within twenty-four hours.”

“Resolved,” I echoed.

“Yeah. As in the case status is closed.” He tucked his notepad away as he spoke.

I let out a harsh breath. “Does that include cases where something bad happened to the missing person?”

A muscle ticked in his cheek as he met my gaze. “Let me rephrase. Most people reported missing are found safe within the first day or two.”

While I wanted to be comforted by his statistics, I knew with every fiber of my being that Royce wasn’t going to just show up tomorrow saying he’d needed some space. He’d been taken, and the only way he was coming home was if someone went after him.

But it was becoming more and more obvious that wasn’t going to be the police.

If something bad had happened to Royce, by the time the cops got around to really looking, it would be too late.

I was the one who’d have to find him. Royce had been my hero more times than I could count, and now it seemed that it was my turn.

But the terrifying truth was I didn’t even know where to begin.