“Don’t worry, Ms. Macy,” said Smith. “We’re handling the threat. You’re perfectly safe.”
But Gretel didn’t move. “He’s not aphysicalthreat. He can’t even hit back.”
Smith’s mouth thinned. “Let us do our job, miss. We’re Stone Solutions’ trained security. We know how to handle an empath.”
Lie. Reece almost wanted to laugh. Then the baton hit the wall in front of his face, too close for comfort. “Keep moving, empath.”
The jabs of the baton corralled him down the hall, in the opposite direction from Gretel, to a narrow door at the end. One guard unlocked it, opening the door to reveal a storage closet full of discarded office odds and ends.
Another hard jab of the baton between his shoulder blades sent him flying forward, stumbling over a broken rolling desk chair and crashing to the floor of the claustrophobic space.
He rolled onto his back with a grunt. Smith and the guards filled the doorway. “You’ve already been reported,” said Smith. “Enjoy this room while you can; you’ll be moved somewhere a lot less pleasant as soon as the authorities arrive.”
Authorities. The police? Jamey?Grayson?“Wait—”
Smith slammed the door, and the bolt slid shut.
Jamey had just dropped into her seat at her desk to check police intel for signs of Reece when her phone buzzed with a message from Aisha Easterby.
Reece found. Grayson handling.
Her relief lasted all of a moment. Grayson couldn’t handle Reece’s driving, let alone Reece himself. She’d get back on the scanner, tell Grayson to grow a pair and call her himself.
But as she started to stand, she heard Lieutenant Parson making his way to her.
“My office.” His voice was more clipped than normal, and the few other officers in the bullpen turned their heads in Jamey’s direction.
Nonplussed, she followed Parson. As she shut the door behind her, he took a seat at his desk and didn’t waste any time. “Your empath half brother was caught breaking and entering into the R&D labs at Stone Solutions during an AMI meeting.” He leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. “Without gloves.”
Jamey blinked. She’d heard that right. She just didn’t believe what she’d heard. “Is he—”
“I don’t know what his condition is,” Parson interrupted. “I was ordered not to send any officers. The Dead Man is handling everything.”
Not a chance. “I’m going.”
“You can’t,” he said testily. “Federal jurisdiction preempts state in matters of empathy, you know that. And the Dead Man preemptseverything. Grayson is handling Reece personally.”
“Parson—”
“This is not a suggestion, Detective,” he said. “It’s an order. The press was covering the AMI meeting. They know he consults for us, they know he’s your brother, and it doesn’t look good for the department.”
“I don’t care how it looks,” she said honestly. “I care about Reece.”
She turned to leave.
“There’s one more thing.”
She stopped, hand on the door.
Parson cleared his throat again. “You’re on suspension.”
She turned back to him in shock. “Excuse me?”
“The press was already questioning Reece’s involvement in your record. Now he’s likely to be brought up on a B&E at the country’s biggest empath defense facility.” Parson’s tone was sharp. “Everyone from AMI to the mayor is calling for your head. I’ve got to do something.”
She didn’t say anything. The silence stretched out between them.
Finally, Parson tapped his desk. “I need your badge. And your gun. You can drive the car until you get a replacement.”
