“It’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Easterby said, more quietly. “Grayson takes down empaths when he has to, but when he can save them—that’s what he does.”
It wasn’t enough, and Jamey was tired of being kept in the dark. “You’re going to have to spell out exactly what he’s trying to save Reece from.”
Easterby sighed. “You know it’s classified, I can’t—”
“You can’t take Reece anywhere without convincing us first.”
Easterby was quiet for a moment. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll show you.”
Jamey’s phone beeped. She pulled it away from her ear to see a series of images: handcuffs, busted open; a straightened-out bobby pin; smashed bits of something electronic. “What are these?”
“What Grayson took from the engine room of Stone’s yacht.”
Jamey shook her head slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“Cora Falcon kept bobby pins for her hair in the back pockets of her scrubs.”
Jamey nearly choked. “And used them to break out of a pair ofhandcuffs? She’s a therapist. You don’t learn that in college, that’s the kind of skill you learn if you’re—”
“A highly trained soldier? The type who might be forced into terrible situations, who might come home with PTSD and work with a therapist?”
Jamey stared at the picture.
“We call it insight,” said Easterby. “Empaths absorb someone’s strong emotions, and their empathy connects the dots about that person in ways that other minds never could.”
Insight. Reece had used that word too.
“We tell everyone empathy needs touch,” Easterby admitted. “But insight only needs the right empath and the right moment of powerful emotion. There are several empathic abilities that work without touch, and the stronger the empath, the less they need it.”
Like detecting the sound of lies. Jamey thumbed to the next close-up. “And the smashed electronics? No chance that’s Owens’ missing phone?”
“No. It’s a webcam.”
Webcam?Jamey put the phone back to her ear, angry now. “Someone was watching? Watching what? What the hell was done to her?”
“She was forced to break out of handcuffs in a yacht engine room, and the rest of her night was probably much, much worse.” Easterby’s voice was heavy. “She’s also a victim in all this. The real perp may still be out there, ready to do the same to Reece. Let us take him somewhere safe. For his sake. ForSeattle’ssake.”
The silence stretched out between them for several moments. “Reece will never agree to go with you,” Jamey finally said. “He doesn’t care about protecting himself.”
“Grayson can convince him.” Easterby paused. “Have I convinced you?”
Jamey’s jaw tightened. She hung up without answering.
“Come on, come on.” Reece balanced precariously on the broken chair and stretched his arm and phone even closer to the ceiling. Ugh,useless. No matter how he strained, he couldn’t pick up a signal.
The door cracked open.
Reece nearly toppled off the chair, grabbing onto the back just in time. “I should get a phone call,” he demanded, hopefully with dignity and not like he’d nearly fallen flat on his face.
But it was a new set of eyes peeking in through an inch-wide gap. “Did you mind-control someone into being your guardian angel?”
Reece blinked. “What?”
“You’re being released without charges. I’m supposed to move you somewhere nicer. Hurry up.”
The eyes disappeared, leaving the door cracked open.
Reece stared for a moment. Then he scrambled off the chair.
