“No, I could only see the back end. And anyway, it left a couple minutes later. Probably had the wrong address.”
Not if Jamey had sent him here. Taylor sipped his coffee and tried to smile.
A few minutes of pleasant conversation later, Taylor went back out to his cruiser and called Jamey. He relayed everything Ms. Kirby had told him, then added, “You think it could be our van?”
“Could be,” said Jamey. “Could also be coincidence.”
“Oh, sure,” Taylor openly scoffed. “Because you just happened to send me here after a coincidence.”
She made a tiny huff. “It could happen.”
“But it didn’t,” said Taylor. “Ms. Kirby is willing to come downtown and look at pictures.”
“No.” Jamey said it immediately. “Don’t involve her and don’t follow this any further.”
But Taylor didn’t want to let it go. It was the closest thing he’d seen to a lead all day. “Is there any chance a doctor and an empath could be connected to the murders?”
“Don’t ask that question. And get going. I want you out of therenow.” She hung up.
Taylor frowned at his phone. He’d bet his badge that Jamey knew a lot more than she was sharing. She was no empath like her brother, but you didn’t work with Detective St. James for two years and not figure out she wasn’t exactly stock-model either.
He went to start his engine, looking out his windshield one last time at Falcon and Camden’s home. Then he paused, key in the ignition.
A light was on in the upstairs window.
No one was supposed to be home, and he could have sworn no lights were on when he pulled up. He got out of his cruiser and studied the house, eyes narrowing when they landed on the garage. It was manually operated and had been closed when he arrived. But now, the crisp white door was a few inches above the ground, and he thought he saw wide black tires in the gap.
As he looked back at the house, the upstairs light went out.
He got out of the car and quickly headed up the walk. He ducked under the awning, out of the rain, and stood on the cheerful welcome mat as he rapped on the front door. The entry had been decorated with several pots of hardy flowers, their colors bright against the gray day.
He gave it two minutes, then rang the bell. Someone had turned that light off. He was here on a murder investigation and this was starting to look like exigent circumstances. He reached for his gun, ready to enter without a warrant.
But the door was suddenly flung open. In front of him was a pretty young woman, dark brown hair over one shoulder in a tangled braid, and her pink scrubs covered in blood. “Hi, officer,” she said.
Then her hand was on his face.
Chapter Fifteen
From: Kapoor, Indira
To: Easterby, Aisha
Subject: Re: Re: Soil samples
Running tests now, will call when done.
Ps. You’ve been at Stone Solutions awhile, right? Do you ever think it’s weird that we get so much money to study the cutest, most harmless people on the planet? Like...do you ever get the feeling there’s something that someone’s not telling us?
Reece caught up with Grayson as they emerged outside the Renton dive bar into November’s early twilight. The street was empty of people, just the beater cars parked along the curb in front of a locally owned hardware store and a weed shop. “What is with you and not saying goodbye? And do you know where we should go next? It seems like you know where we should go.”
“I do.” Grayson stuck out his hand. “Maybe I should drive.”
“Not a chance.” Reece clutched his keys possessively. “I’m only allowing you to sit in my passenger seat under duress, and I already know you don’t drive like an empath.”
“Worth a shot.” Grayson dropped his hand. “Head for Pioneer Square, then.”
They climbed into the car, and Reece turned the key. His car made a pathetic clicking and nothing more.
