Page 56 of Tides That Bind

Fuck this being about a dog.

“Let’s go.”

Harper’s wet eyes dart from the hand I’ve reached down to offer her up to my face. “Where are we going?”

Before knowing the answer, Harper places her hand in mine and I pull her up onto her feet.

“Home. You need to clean up your feet.”

Harper’s shoulders slump.

“Then put some shoes on. We’re going to get him back.”

“It’s probably an administrative mistake,” I say, looking down at the letter I’ve stuffed into the cupholder.

Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself—and Harper—repeatedly as we drive to Oceanside’s police station.

The tears have stopped falling and the cries—the god-awful cries—have silenced. But now, Harper says nothing.

Zilch.

Not a word, a mumble, a curse under her breath. She doesn’t misdirect her anger at me—who, for once, isn’t the enemy. She doesn’t say anything at all.

The silence makes me uncomfortable, and I find myself bouncing my left leg as we slow in traffic. I’m reminded the day Nate deployed and we drove home together. Back then, I found solace in the fact she had nothing to say. Instead, now, Harper’s silence is painful. It’s hopeless.

I finally pull into the police station and into a parking spot, shutting off the engine. “Stay here,” I tell Harper, and even though it’s annoying she doesn’t listen and jumps out of the Jeep, I’m thankful to get some sort of response from her.

A few quick steps and she’s caught up to me, her head swiveling, eyes wide, as if she expects to find Tides. “Do you think he’s here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I offer honestly, because the truth is, I have absolutely no idea and what I won’t do is bullshit her.

I swing open the door and the officer at the front desk does a double take. I step in front of Harper. “I need to see Officer Ford.” The young guy’s eyes move over my shoulder. “It’s an urgent matter.”

“I…Officer Ford is off duty, I believe.” He produces paper and a pen. “Would you like to leave a message for him when he comes in for his next shift?”

“Off duty my ass,” Harper mumbles, stepping around me.

I grab her arm, holding her in place. “You believe? Can you go back and check? We’ll wait.” I point between us. “RileyMonroe. Harper Jones. As in wife of officer Nathaniel Jones. I’m sure you’re familiar with the name. We need to see Silas. And like I said, it’s urgent. I’m sure many of you here wouldn’t keep a widow of your own waiting. So check.Now.”

We hold eye contact for another five seconds before the officer nods, stepping out from behind the desk.

Harper’s phone rings and she pulls it out of her pocket, silencing the call, mumbling something about a class.

I pull my keys from my pocket and turn, realizing I’m still holding Harper’s arm. I release it and hand her the keys. “Take my car and go to work.”

“Riley—”

“Harper,” I hiss. “Listen to me. I’ll take care of this. I don’t need you here being all emotional.”

Her head juts back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, crying helps absolutely nothing. Just go to work and do some yoga and let me deal with Silas.”

“How do you expect me to go work right now?”

I sigh. “To be honest, I’m assuming you won’t just because I asked you to.”

“That wasn’t asking. Youtoldme to,” she snaps.

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