Page 17 of Zero Divergence

“No.” A big grin spread across his face. “You are going to get to the truth, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good man,” Tobias said proudly. “I don’t have much longer before I retire, and I want to see the monster behind bars for good.”

“We all do. I’ll send one of our sketch artists down to talk to you so you don’t have to leave your post.”

Royce sought out Cami Everhart and asked her to meet with Tobias when she was free. She eyed him curiously for a second before she smiled widely. Cami was a sweet woman with big brown eyes and a brilliant smile. He’d briefly debated asking her out when she joined the force, but she’d had relationship and kids written all over her. Funny how those two things didn’t scare him any longer.

“What?” he asked when the silence grew awkward.

“There’s something different about you.”

“No,” Royce countered.

“Oh, yeah. I’d heard rumors you’re off the market now, but I didn’t believe them until now. You look settled and content.”

“I don’t think either of those words are compliments, Cami.” They came nowhere close to describing how Sawyer made him feel. “Yes, I am in a relationship.”

“Lucky girl.”

“Guy,” he corrected, then blushed when her smile grew even wider. “Can you work with Tobias today?” he asked, pulling them back to the reason he’d sought her out.

“Of course. I’ll visit him in just a few minutes. I just need to send out a mass text to all my friends who were hoping for introductions to you.”

Royce just shook his head and walked away. He rounded up his rookies and headed out the door, laughing as they fought over the shotgun seat.

“Where are we going?” Carnegie asked as he buckled into the front passenger seat.

“Back to the prison.”

“Is this a daily thing?” Fuentes asked.

“Nope,” Royce replied. “We’re working a few angles and hoping to see what we can shake loose about our missing evidence. First, we’re going to the jail to request visitor logs for Humphries. Then we’re going to Richmond Laboratories to interview every single fucking person there until I’m confident none of their employees were involved in taking the sheet. Watch and learn, fellas. Watch and learn.”

Sawyer looked at the platters of food spread across the kitchen island. “Do you think we have enough snacks for our guests?”

Royce stepped up behind him, placing his hand at the small of Sawyer’s back. “Remind me how many people we invited over for poker night?”

“Six plus us.”

Royce snorted. “There’s enough food here for eighty people.”

“It’s my first poker night with the unit, and our first time hosting it together. I got a little carried away.”

“You’re a food snob,” Royce countered. “Our poker pals are expecting simple things like little smokies in barbecue sauce and a variety of chips.”

Sawyer gestured to the small crockpot with smokies smothered in barbecue sauce and the bowls of chips. “We have those things.”

Royce laughed so hard his body shook. “First of all, we don’t usually put the chips in fancy bowls,” he said when he could finally speak.

“What the hell do you do with them?”

Royce’s gray eyes sparkled with humor and joy. “God, I love you. So damn much.”

Sawyer narrowed his eyes. “The declaration feels like you’re patronizing me.”

“Nope,” Royce said, shaking his head. “I love the effort you put into everything, although it must be exhausting.” Royce leaned in for a long, toe-curling kiss. “We usually just set the bags of chips on the counter and everyone helps themselves. None of us have attended the Evangeline O’Neal school of etiquette like you did.” Royce looked at the plethora of food options. “We certainly don’t serve each other skewers with fancy cheese, melon, and… What’s the meat called again?”