Page 45

CHAPTER 45

Tristan

In the control room, Marcus appears on the monitors, entering the kitchen. Then the aroma of cumin and herbs fills my nostrils. I leave one of the men on surveillance and go to Marcus. “You should be in bed. Food poisoning isn’t a joke.”

“It’s not food poisoning. It’s my lactose intolerance biting me in the ass after that bowl of ice cream. Literally.” Marcus heats water. “I’ll be fine, though. My grandma used to make this herbal remedy for me whenever I ate dairy. It worked like magic. I’ll drink it and make myself useful again.”

I chuckle, leaning against the counter. “Why would you eat ice cream?”

“Detective asshole said it was vegan. Newsflash, it wasn’t.” He grabs a teaspoon of honey and adds it to his cup. “Where’s Birdie and Gatsby? And what happened to your hand?”

I fill him in, leaving out the details he shouldn’t know. “Come again about Torrance and the ice cream.”

“I was circulating the floor when he was going to the bathroom. He told me I should eat something and recommended ice cream for dessert. He said it was the best vegan ice cream on the island.” The kettle wheezes, and he pours the water on the herbs. “I should sue that place.”

My gaze narrows. “Or the detective.”

Marcus stares at me. “Do you think it was intentional? He lied on purpose to get me sick?”

“Anything is possible. We can’t rule anything out. I never liked that asshole. There’s something off about him that I can’t place, especially after his background check returned nothing. He’s a ghost. I can’t even find where he served before he transferred to Oak Bluffs.”

“How would he know I was lactose intolerant? He ran background checks on Birdie’s details, too?”

“Two days ago, he was asking how many she had.” He lied to Marcus, the only detail with lactose intolerance on the team, about the ice cream. He’d watched me break a vase when he asked her out; he must have deduced I was jealous. He left those fucking flowers to mock me, counting on my temper to induce another reaction that might incapacitate me, too. A gnawing suspicion tugs at my gut. Marcus’s conveniently timed illness is just a little too coincidental. “What if he’s singling us out?”

“Why?”

My whole body snaps into high alert as I fish my phone out of my pocket. “To get her alone without either of us. An easy target to take.” Swearing, I call Brandon. “Pick the fuck up.”

“Wait, you think Torrance is the stalker?”

“And I’ve just sent her out there into his fucking trap all alone.”