Reece adopted the most casual voice he had. “Remind me: where was the witness?”
It was easy enough to ask Taylor to grab him a cup of coffee, then slip out of the tent without anyone noticing. Reece pulled his hood up again against the rain and tried to dodge the worst of the ice-edged puddles as he scurried across the dark parking lot to the ambulance tucked in among the cruisers.
He knocked on the vehicle’s door, and an EMT with a blue uniform and bloodshot eyes poked her head out. He held up his hands, making the gloves obvious. “Can I see the witness?”
Relief crossed her face, and she moved to let him enter, warmth washing over him as he climbed the two steps up into the cramped ambulance interior.
His gaze went straight to the middle-aged man on the gurney, propped in a sitting position and wired to unfamiliar machines. The man was staring blankly into space, a small spot of red blooming on the gauze beneath his nose. At least the poor man didn’t seem to be in any pain.
“He’s still catatonic?” Reece asked, as he pulled his damp hood back.
The EMT nodded. “I thought there was no way we were getting an empath on scene. Who called you in?”
“Detective St. James is my sister.” Not actually an answer, but it was good enough to smooth the concern from the EMT’s face. He gestured at the man. “Do we know his name?”
“Vincent Braker, marine mechanic who services motors in the dry dock here at the marina. His time card puts him off-shift at eleven. We think he hit the bar down the street then came back for his car.”
“People shouldn’t do that,” Reece said, before he could stop himself. “Drunk driving kills thousands every year.”
She shot him an unimpressed look. “Is this really the time?”
He winced. “Sorry.” He gestured at himself with gloved hands. “Empath. Sometimes my feelings just kind of come out of my mouth before I can stop them.”
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all sweetness and rainbows and pacifism?”
“Pacifistandpolitearen’t actually synonyms,” he said weakly. “And I’m really sorry he’s hurt. What happened to him?”
The EMT ran a finger down her chart. “Well, his blood alcohol level was .07, so that part of the story checks out.”
The EMT’s forehead was wrinkled, like she was worried about more than Braker’s drinking. “What part doesn’t check out?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Nothing.”
Lie. “It’s a little more than nothing, isn’t it?”
The EMT startled, her gaze going to his gloves again, and he could have kicked himself. People were jumpy enough with what they knew empaths could do. No one needed to know an empath was walking around capable ofmore.
But then the EMT relaxed. “Of course I can tellyou. Detective St. James was the one to ask for the tests. She said to keep it private, but if she knew you were coming, she must have intended you to know.”
“She must have,” Reece said, a little weakly.
“His catecholamines are way above normal.” His confusion must have shown on his face, because she clarified, “Adrenal hormones. He’s got blood work like I’d expect from the Hulk—well, if the Hulk was catatonic.”
Why would Jamey have wanted to test a catatonic man’s adrenal hormones? Reece took a seat on the bench opposite Braker and stuck the tip of his gloved thumb between his teeth. “If he’s catatonic, what makes everyone think he’s a witness?”
“He’s the one on the 911 call.” He glanced at her, confused again, but she nodded. “On the call, he says he thought he heard screaming, then suddenly starts screaming himself and the call is cut. We were first response and found him curled in a ball on the dock.” She gestured at the gurney. “Already gone.”
Reece’s chest twisted.
“I don’t know much about empaths.” She snorted. “Guess no one really does, though, right? That’s why you have to wear those gloves, why Stone Solutions has all those ads.” She mimicked a man’s deep voice.“Stone Solutions, Defending American Minds.”
“I’ve seen the commercials,” Reece said flatly.
“I guess you would have,” the EMT said awkwardly. “All I meant was, can you help him?”
“In theory,” Reece said.
He hadn’t done a read of his own on anyone since March, since the one he emphaticallydid not think about. But empathy might be able to help now, and he’d do it if it could save Braker.
