Reece groaned.
The unknown caller on Jamey’s phone could only be one person.
She stepped to a corner of the lobby of the Seattle Veterans Medical Complex, as far from the crowd as she could manage. “Reece better be all right.”
But she could hear Reece’s voice in the background. “I didn’t say you could use the phone in the car.”
“You’re driving, not me. But if you’re fixing to change that—”
“Like I’d let a phone-using menace to the public behind my wheel. Just don’t distract me with your conversation.”
Grayson’s deep drawl was back in her ear. “Your brother’s a very careful driver.”
“That can’t surprise you,” she said. “You’re supposed to be an empath specialist.”
“Been a while since I’ve been in the passenger seat.”
Who was the last empath that the Dead Man had let behind the wheel? “You’re better off letting him drive,” said Jamey.
“Why’s that?”
“Trust the voice of experience.” She leaned against the hospital wall and tuned out the murmurs of all the people flowing around her, up and down the laminate hospital floors. “Where are you taking Reece next?”
“Stone Solutions.”
She shoved right back off the wall. “You’ve got five seconds—”
“Because of Dr. Owens’ death,” Grayson immediately clarified.
Jamey relaxed against the wall. “You better have extra eyes on him in that snake pit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Grayson muttered. “Learn anything new at the scene?”
“That your lackeys need my help to find a red sports car, a fancy phone, and my brother’s number.”
“Your brother’s number?”
There was a high-pitched yelp. “Mywhat?”
“That’s right,” she said to Grayson. “And I don’t care how nice she acts, I’m not sharing my empath brother with an ME who works for Stone Solutions.”
“Dr. Easterby isn’t acting—shelikesempaths,” said Grayson.
There was another yelp. “Someone who likes empaths wanted my number? Adoctor?”
“I mean,” said Grayson, “I don’t think it’s a kink or anything—”
“Who cares if it is?” she could hear Reece protesting. “Empath here, we don’t judge.”
“You judge every last person behind a wheel and find them wanting,” Grayson said.
“The rules of the road apply to all drivers, even Dead ones. Now, ask Jamey if she gave the doctor my number—Jamey—”
“I don’t believe an empath would approve of driving distracted.” There was indignant sputtering in Grayson’s background as he asked Jamey, “You at the hospital?”
“I’m about to question the staff about Hathaway’s visit yesterday.”
“Can you ask if anyone suspected Hathaway planned to withdraw her bill?”
