Nolan wasn’t admitting anything. No one had witnessed the altercation. He could say Grayson had attacked him unprovoked and it’d be his word against Grayson’s in a hearing. “I want to file a complaint.”
“Agent Grayson operates outside our jurisdiction.”
“He’s under someone’s jurisdiction.”
“I don’t think he is,” said Jacobs. “He’s associated with the Empath Initiative, but he doesn’t answer to them.”
Nolan scoffed. “So he’s—what? A rogue agent? A vigilante?Batman?”
“He’s a weapon.”
That made Nolan scoff again. “Against what?Empaths?I don’t like that mind-raping thing they can do, but Jim, have you ever met an empath?”
“I’ve worked with the one here in DC. I know where you’re going with this.”
Nolan went on anyway. “I met another one this morning. Complete crybaby. I could have held my foot over a spider and made him putty in my hands. No one needs an anti-empathy weapon. And even if we did, Grayson’s too dangerous.”
“Heisdangerous,” Jacobs agreed. “He’s also unique, so you’re going to have to drop this and move on, from both your beef with Grayson and this case. The FBI isn’t getting involved in either.”
Nolan set his jaw.
“You’re supposed to be on vacation anyway,” Jacobs said. “Book another cruise.”
“Sir—”
“I don’t want to hear from you for two weeks.”
Nolan continued to hold the phone long after Jacobs hung up, anger simmering. Grayson didn’t even have a file with the FBI, nothing but his name, his Dead Man alias, and the wordclassified. Probably barely old enough to train at Quantico but had the gall to imply thatNolanwas the one interfering with the investigation and endangering people.
Ugh, Nolan needed some air.
But as he was about to leave the SUV, his phone rang again, an unfamiliar number with the Seattle area code. “This is Nolan.”
“Special Agent Damian Nolan.” The man’s smooth voice sounded vaguely familiar. “I’m glad I was able to reach you. I’m wondering if I might have a moment of your time.”
“And who are you?”
“The owner of the yacht you’re investigating, of course,” the man said wryly. “My name is Cedrick Stone.”
Reece bit his lip as Grayson stepped up to the glass door. Unlike the business clothes Jamey usually wore on duty, Grayson wore jeans and a sweater, although they gave him anI don’t need a suit to run this showlook rather than Reece’sI got dressed off the floorchic. Grayson’s gaze was on Jamey as he held up a water bottle in one hand and knocked at the door with the other.
She stepped back, folding her arms over her chest. He opened the door but didn’t step into the room, only holding the water bottle out to Jamey. “For the empath.”
At the sound of Grayson’s voice, Reece’s stomach gave a warning lurch, but thankfully he didn’t vomit again.
Jamey didn’t take the water. “Is it poisoned?”
Grayson took it back and twisted the top, and Reece heard the seal break. Grayson held the bottle back out to Jamey. “Unless you need me to drink from it first?” he said dryly, making Reece’s stomach protest again.
With narrowed eyes, she took the water bottle and turned just enough to set it on the table in front of Reece, not taking her eyes off Grayson.
Reece eyed the bottle. Loath as he was to accept anything from Grayson, the sight of the water made him again taste the bile on his tongue, and he found himself reaching for the drink.
“Are you coming in?” Jamey said.
Grayson nodded at Reece. “When he’s ready.”
“Ready for what?” he muttered, between welcome cold gulps of water. “More projectile vomiting?”
