“What a mess,” Taylor bit out. “You know the FBI prick is already asking about the senator’s anti-empathy bill? And he’s trying to get Stensby to stop working on the list of pulp mills you wanted—”
“No, weneedthat,” she said. “The van’s tires reeked of sulfur.”
“I believe you,” Taylor said quietly, “but that prick doesn’t because the rest of us can’t smell it.”
“Maybe the rest of you should—smell harder,” Reece interjected, with a quick glance at Jamey. She was usually so careful about hiding things like that. If this case was bad enough to have her slipping up—
Maybe he wouldn’t think about that.
There was conflict in Jamey’s eyes as she looked from Reece to the wooden ramp that led to the moored yachts. “Fine, I’ll talk to Agent Nolan, but quick,” she said to Taylor. “Pleasestay with Reece.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!” Reece snapped, as Taylor flashed her a thumbs-up.
But she’d already disappeared.
Reece sighed. He looked over at his new companion, who was now thumbing through the phone. He opened his mouth, but before he could ask Taylor why Reece showing up could get Jamey fired, his own phone vibrated in his pocket.
With a frown, Reece pulled it out.
Stay where your sister tells you
Don’t wander off
Goose bumps broke out over his skin. Like with the call, there was no phone number to see, but it had to be Grayson—Reece could count on one hand the number of people with his new number and have fingers left over.
But why would Grayson send a text like that? Reece was here to help Jamey. Where would he possibly wander off to at acrime scene?
He jammed the phone back into his pocket. He glanced at Taylor again, at his open, guileless face. High timesomeonegave him some information tonight. “So.” He bit his lip. “Some case, huh?”
“No kidding,” Taylor agreed. “Stensby wanted to call you and Jamey shut him down. I thought we weren’t going to even talk about bringing an empath here, but I guess the case is crazy enough to make her risk it.”
Reece coughed awkwardly. “Guess so.”
“Stensby said Jamey won’t call you at all anymore if anyone is so much as bruised. The last few months, the rule’s been no violence, or else no empath consultant.”
Reece tried to shrug it off. “It’s been complicated.”Hey, I’m not even lying.
“Ah.” Taylor nodded knowingly. “Girlfriend.” At Reece’s scoff, he shrugged. “Boyfriend?”
“There’s no one,” said Reece. “Who wants an empath around?”
“I do,” said Taylor, which wasn’t a lie and which Reece found reassuring right up until Taylor added, “And none of the officers are going to rat you out for showing up. A senator murdered on a billionaire CEO’s yacht—this story’s going to be big enough. Can you imagine what the press would say if they knew we’d added an empath to this horror show?”
Horror show. Cold sweat broke out on Reece’s brow. He curled his fists tightly in his pocket and tried to focus on Jamey. Grayson had said she needed his help. The dead didn’t have feelings; they wouldn’t need an empath for those already lost. “Any leads?”
“Just the witness we can’t reach.”
“Can’t reach?”
Pity softened Taylor’s eyes. “Hard to talk when you’re catatonic.”
Oh.
“The theory is he actually saw the killer. But there’s no reaching him, unless—” Sudden hope lit Taylor’s face. “Is that why you’re here?”
Don’t wander off, Grayson’s text had said.
But this wasn’twandering off. Grayson didn’t know about the witness—or maybe the witness was how Reece could help. And whoever Grayson was, he didn’t get to tell Reece what to do.
