There was a pause. “You sure you know what I am?”
“You’re supposed to be a bogeyman, dreamed up to scare empaths onto the straight and narrow,” Reece snapped. “Except the Dead Man’s actually just a dick with an accent, bullying the rest of the world to get what he wants.”
Grayson’s drawl was lazy in his ear. “That man’s possessions were never in danger.”
“Bullshit. I’ve heard lots of rumors about you and not one ever said you make empty threats.”
“Because I don’t,” Grayson said simply. “I meant there was never a chance the threat wouldn’t work on you.”
That got under Reece’s skin like a splinter. “Leave innocent people alone. If you want something from me, come get it fromme.”
“I don’t need an invitation, Care Bear.”
Reece stiffened. “You’re on your way to Seattle?” But he already knew the answer, because that was the deep rumbling of an engine in the background.
“Where else would anyone want to be in November?” Grayson said dryly. “I hear it never stops raining and never warms up. Sounds like paradise.”
The Dead Man was coming here. Alaska suddenly wasn’t far enough. “Are you coming because of Senator Hathaway?”
“Did you think I was coming because of someone else?”
Could the Dead Man somehow know Reece heard lies? But that was impossible; no one else knew but Jamey, and she was safer than a bank vault.
He leaned on the railing, the metal cold against his body as he stared at the gray ocean stretching out to green trees and houses across the bay. He was as uncomfortably adrift in their conversation as an empty skiff on the water, unable to anchor a single emotion onto Grayson’s deep voice. Hehatedphones. “I don’t know what to think when the world’s only empath hunter calls.”
“I’m not anempath hunter,” said Grayson. “I’m a specialist.”
“Oh yeah?” Reece said, scoffing. “And what, exactly, do you specialize in, pacifism or privacy violations?”
“And here I thought y’all were more complicated than sound bites from either side.”
Reece clenched his teeth. “Specialist. Hunter. Whatever. Mr. Dead Man—”
“Mr. Dead Man?”
“Sorry, is itDr.Dead Man? Did you go to six years of zombie school? What do you want?”
“You didn’t answer my call.”
“I was driving.”
“I know. I got your auto-response.” Grayson read it out. “I don’t use my phone behind the wheel and neither should you.Hashtagdrive like an empath. Are you capable of communication without sass?”
Reece wrapped a hand around the rail, the cold blocked by the glove. “You’re driving right now. I can hear your engine. Sounds big. Upgraded. Like it eats too much gas while its distracted driver endangers the road.”
“We don’t all of us drive like empaths. And I’m parking, so you can stop fretting.”
Yeah, right. The Dead Man was on his phone and on his way. Reece wasn’t going to stopfrettin’anytime soon. “You still haven’t said what youwant.”
“Let’s start with you telling Detective St. James to cancel the trip to Alaska.”
Reece’s heart leaped into his throat.
“That’s where she was planning to hide you, isn’t it? Good plan. Would have given someone trouble trying to track you off Mr. Lee’s float plane, if it was available.”
Ifit was available? What the hell was that supposed to mean? “Do you always talk in riddles?” he snapped, trying to shake off the fear skittering up his spine.
“Do you always ask so many questions?” Grayson cut his engine. His low voice dropped just a little lower. “Tell me you didn’t try to read the witness in the ambulance.”
