Strange Medicine (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #1)(55)

Out in front of the house, I heard sirens and could see lights flashing. Two deputies came running up, looking intimidating with their guns drawn.

“Check the house,” Royce snapped, dragging his prisoner toward the street.

The deputies did as he said, taking off for the house, and I followed behind Royce. I was relieved he was safe but afraid to speak to him because I knew he was furious with me for getting involved. I had no real excuse. It had been pure instinct that made me chase after the guy, and I knew perfectly well I’d fucked up.

Once we were next to one of the police cars, Royce pulled the ski mask off the guy. Royce gave a sharp intake of breath. “Rocky Gray?” His voice was gravelly.

“Fuck you,” Rocky spat out.

“You’re the Rocky?” I scowled, staring at the burly man. He had a tattoo on his cheek, and his neck was almost as thick as his muscled thighs.

“What’s it to you?” he grumbled.

“You can’t be serious?” I stepped closer, anger flushing through me. “Are you the Neanderthal who tried to smash my skull in with a sledgehammer?”

Royce put his hand on my chest, his jaw clenched. “Go sit in my car.”

I huffed. “This is the guy, right?”

“Maxwell, go sit in my goddamned car before I arrest you too.” Royce’s voice was cool and clipped.

My face warmed when Rocky sneered at me. “I don’t want to sit in the car.”

“You’re on thin ice with me, Maxwell. Go sit your ass in my vehicle, now.”

“Fine.” I lifted my chin, and I stomped toward Royce’s vehicle. I yanked open the passenger-side door and slid in, sitting with my arms crossed and mumbling to myself. I watched Royce talking with Rocky, feeling irritated that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. When the driver’s-side door opened, a guy I didn’t recognize slid in behind the wheel. He was older and dressed in dark clothes, and when he glanced over and saw me, he flinched, looking surprised.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled.

“What?” I wrinkled my brow.

“Never mind.” He shook his head and gave a hard, short laugh.

“This is Sheriff Callum’s car,” I said, frowning.

“Uh… yeah. I know.” He cleared his throat and looked about uneasily. “Um… Sheriff asked me to take you to the station.” He fumbled around and seemed relieved when the keys were in the ignition.

“He did?”

“Yep.”

“What’s the rush? I don’t mind waiting for him.”

“I’m just following orders.”

I stared at him, feeling confused. “Why would Royce ask you to take me to the station?”

“No idea. It’s not really my place to question him though, is it?”

“I suppose not.”

“Just sit back and relax,” he muttered.

The engine roared to life, and the guy slowly backed the car down the road in the opposite direction of Royce and the other cars. Then he did a U-turn and took off, heading away from my house. There was something about the driver that made me uncomfortable. I had the strongest, most illogical feeling that I should jump out of the car, but I didn’t want to overreact if the guy was just following Royce’s orders. Royce was pissed enough with me as it was. The last thing I needed was to cause more drama by flinging myself from the car.

“Are you a deputy?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Something truly didn’t seem right about the man. No matter how much I tried to reassure myself, he just seemed off. I examined his casual clothes, observing his black sweat pants and tennis shoes. Not exactly police issue I would guess. Also, he seemed sweaty and uneasy, which made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

If this guy’s a cop, I’ll eat my stethoscope.

I tried to remain calm as I struggled with what to do about the situation. Watching Royce and the others disappear in the side mirror did nothing to relieve my fear. Was it possible this man was a cop, but just not in uniform? My instincts told me he wasn’t.

I swallowed, my throat as dry as a riverbed during a drought. “Shouldn’t we be heading the other way?”

“What?”

“I’ve never gone to the station from this direction before.”

He raked a hand through his hair, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry about it. I know what I’m doing.”

Something was most definitely not right. “Can you let me out? I’d rather wait for the sheriff to finish up at the house.”

“Sorry. No can do.” His voice was emotionless.

“Why not?”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t ask so many questions,” he snapped.

Shit.

The little orange reflectors on the side of the road zipped by as he picked up speed. I was tempted to jump out of the car, but he was going rather fast. I had little doubt I’d be hugely damaged slamming into the pavement at that speed. One problem with being a doctor was I’d seen way too many mangled bodies in my time. I had no desire to be one of them, so I stayed put.

He turned on a side road, the tires squealing as he rounded the bend still at a high speed. The road he took swung back in the direction of town. I tried to relax, telling myself maybe he really was a cop and perhaps he was heading to the station now. But when I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye, his jaw was clenched and he looked angry.