Page 43 of Tide and Seek (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #8)

Maxwell (Again)

Once Deputy Johnson left, I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to push back the panic threatening to overwhelm me.

I felt like I was losing my mind with worry.

While I couldn’t prove it, I knew with absolute certainty that Royce was in real trouble.

Yet the police had just filed a report and walked away.

They wanted me to wait twenty-four hours while Royce could be going through God only knew what.

The sound of the security gate opening pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I moved to the window, peering out as a familiar pest control van rolled into the colony. Ethan’s van. He must have returned to drop off Luke’s ant poison.

Something about Ethan had seemed off earlier, and in my paranoid, worried state, that made me suspicious of him.

I cracked open my front door and watched as his vehicle passed my house and continued down toward Luke’s place.

Was it possible he knew something about Royce’s disappearance?

Was that why he’d seemed so uptight talking to me?

Since I had no other leads, he was certainly worth keeping an eye on.

Operating purely on paranoia and instinct, I slipped out my front door and made my way along the narrow strip of landscaping that separated the beach houses.

The late afternoon sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the sand.

It was nearly five o’clock, and while I felt my world was crumbling around me, the golden light made everything look deceptively peaceful.

I crept along the side of Luke’s house, positioning myself behind a thick stand of Bird of Paradise plants that bordered his property.

The waxy leaves provided cover while still allowing me to see the front porch.

My heart hammered against my ribs, and I was acutely aware of how insane this was—hiding in the bushes, spying on my neighbor and the bug guy like some paranoid lunatic.

But Royce was missing, and my gut was screaming that Ethan knew something.

Ethan climbed out of his van holding a grocery-store-type plastic bag.

He sauntered leisurely up to Luke’s door, shifting the bag from one hand to the other.

He knocked on Luke’s door, glancing over his shoulder as if he felt me watching.

Or maybe it was a guilty conscience that had him acting so shifty.

It took a while, but eventually Luke answered the door. He looked as haggard as he had earlier, still needing the doorjamb to prop him up. However, when his eyes locked on the bag Ethan held, his whole body seemed to vibrate with desperate energy.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice breaking with excitement.

Ethan rumbled, “A reward for keeping your fucking mouth shut.”

Luke licked his lips. “I haven’t said anything to anyone.”

“We both know that isn’t exactly true.”

Luke gave a whimper. “Come on, man. Are you still mad about that? What was I supposed to do? The cops were going to hit me with distribution if I didn’t tell them who my supplier was. I didn’t give them your name. Why are you so mad? You’d have done the same to save your ass.”

“You don’t know that.”

Luke laughed harshly. “Yeah, I do. Dude, I had no choice. It’s not like you don’t understand exactly what that’s like.”

“Whatever.”

“Can I have that?” Luke reached for the bag, but Ethan pulled it back.

Ethan gave another anxious glance around. “Let me inside. I’m not doing this out here in the open.”

“Okay.” Luke licked his lips, stepping back. “Is this from the stash in the house? Did you guys get it all out?”

“Keep your voice down.” Ethan pushed past him into the home.

Frustrated they were going inside, I pressed closer to the house, my dress shoes sinking slightly into the mulch. A jagged Bird of Paradise stalk raked across my forearm, leaving a stinging scrape, but I barely felt it. All my attention was on the voices drifting through Luke’s open window.

“—it’s really all gone from the house?” Luke was saying, his voice high and strained.

“Yes. Stiles and I cleared it out this afternoon.” Ethan’s voice was tight.

A honey bee landed on my wrist and I fought the urge to slap it away, not wanting to make any sound that might give away my position.

The evening air was cooling now, carrying the salt smell of the ocean mixed with the sweet scent of the flowering plants around me.

My legs were starting to cramp from crouching in the bushes, but I was worried about moving in case I alerted them to my presence.

“You were here earlier today with Stiles?” Luke sounded uneasy.

“I just told you that.”

Regardless of my need to stay hidden, I couldn’t take crouching anymore, so I pushed up halfway and peered through the window, making sure I wasn’t seen. Luke sat at his long formal dining room table, hugging the grocery bag Ethan had given him.

“Dr. Thornton told me his boyfriend is missing,” Luke said, watching Ethan closely. “You and Stiles didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

“Never you mind about that.”

Luke bugged his eyes. “Oh, my God, that means yes? You did something to Royce? Are you fucking insane?”

My entire body went rigid at the mention of Royce.

“He wasn’t supposed to be home,” Ethan snapped.

A chill ran down my spine at how guilty he sounded. What the hell had they done? Had they killed Royce? I leaned against the house, trying not to be sick. The very thought of anyone harming Royce gutted me.

“Jesus Christ, Ethan. What did you do?”

Ethan grabbed Luke by the front of his shirt. “You need to learn to butt out. The more you know, the more you’re a liability.”

Eyes wide, Luke ignored Ethan’s threat. “Did you kidnap him? Do you even grasp how fucked you are now? It’s one thing to sling pills, but to hurt a cop? If it gets out you assaulted a cop, it’s not just some possession beef anymore.”

Ethan let go of Luke, looking defeated. “It’s too late now anyway.”

No. No. No.

“You actually killed him?” Luke looked like he was about to puke. “Jesus, Ethan. They’ll bring in every damn badge in the county, maybe the feds. Murdering a cop is the fastest way to have half the state crawling up your ass. They’ll bury you alive for that.”

“That was all Stiles, not me,” Ethan said hoarsely.

“Like that will save you? You’re an accessory.” Luke shook his head. “Fuck. You need to go. I don’t want any part of this bullshit. That wasn’t right. You fucking assholes had no right.” His face was flushed and he looked legitimately upset.

With a haunted expression, Ethan said harshly, “I didn’t want that. You think I wanted that? But now I’m so fucked, I have no options. I just need my money and then I’m done with Stiles. He’s a goddamned psycho.”

Their voices faded into the background. I was numb.

I couldn’t feel my limbs or catch my breath.

From the way Ethan was talking, Royce was gone.

Dead. Murdered. Something died inside me then, something I’d never get back.

But in its place, something dark took root.

A rage so pure and absolute it felt like a living thing clawing at my chest, demanding release.

If Royce was gone from this world, I didn’t want to be here anymore either.

But I needed to see Royce. I needed to be sure that he really was gone, or I wouldn’t be able to accept that it was true.

I needed to visually confirm that Royce was dead, and then I’d decide what to do to Ethan.

If he’d actually taken the life of the only man I’d ever loved, I wasn’t sure I could let him live.

That vengeful thought was so alien to me.

I was a civilized, logical man not prone to violence.

But right now, I was shaking with a sort of primal rage.

Ethan needed to take me to Royce, but how would I get him to do that?

If I called the police and told them what I’d heard, would they even believe me?

And even if they did, they’d be too slow to respond.

No, I needed to handle this myself. But Ethan was bigger than me and he wasn’t going to be intimidated easily.

He also wasn’t going to give me what I wanted if I asked nicely.

I needed to do something drastic to get him to take me seriously.

Royce had brought his service weapon on the trip. Ethan would probably listen to me if I shoved a gun in his face. Most anyone would listen with a gun in their face. With that thought in mind, I stumbled back toward my house, my vision tunneling into one thought: Finding Royce.

Inside the house, I went straight to the bedroom where Royce had stored his backup pistol in the nightstand drawer.

My hands were surprisingly steady as I pulled it out, checked the magazine.

Loaded. Good. The weight of it felt foreign in my hand.

Royce had insisted I learn how to shoot, but I wasn’t comfortable handling a firearm.

I’d only gone shooting at the range to please Royce because it had been important to him.

My gut roiling and legs unsteady, I started down the stairs, intent on heading back to Luke’s place to confront Ethan.

But the sound of the security gate opening out front, followed by the rumble of a vehicle, sent a jolt of panic through me.

I yanked open the front door just in time to see Ethan’s pest control van pulling out of the colony.

He was leaving.

Hell, no.