Then he shook his head.
When he opened his eyes, he found Grayson studying him. Then he pocketed his phone and came down the stairs. “Come on,” he said, as he gracefully maneuvered around Reece to get the door without any contact.
Reece watched his broad back for a second. And then he followed.
Agent Nolan sat in his Explorer, alone save for the occasional person braving the cold to scurry down the street past the Alastair Building.
Davies’ ridiculous little car was still parked in front of the green awning where it’d been for the last hour. What was this McFeely’s place anyway? St. James’ text had just been a name and an address. Nolan had searched online but found nothing but vague phrases likeacceptingandjudgment-free.
Nothing was making any sense today. They had one John Doe from hospital records to find, but somehow all the security footage from the hospital had been confiscated, and there were no decent witnesses because the hospital had been understaffed chaos and no one had had attention to spare. One nurse thought she might have seen someone go into Cora’s office midmorning, a young man with dark hair and a hoodie, but that wasn’t helpful—it described a good chunk of Seattle.
Hell, it described St. James’ useless little brother.
The door beneath the green awning was suddenly opening. Nolan quickly slouched in his seat, peering over the steering wheel.
Nothing happened for a long moment, the door still cracked but held in place. And then, finally, Agent Grayson emerged from the door, Davies at his heels.
They climbed into Davies’ Smart car, and as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, Nolan sent a quick text message to Stone.
On the move.
He got his reply a moment later.
Follow, if you please.
Chapter Eighteen
For sale: limited-run first edition ofCaptain Feelings, pristine condition. This collector’s item includes the first issue of the short-lived graphic novel series, which starred the first empath superhero and was ended after protests by empaths, who argued that Captain Feelings didn’t try hard enough to understand the point of view of his nemesis, Dr. Stoic.
—internet auction site
“Park there.”
“I see a fire hydrant.”
“That’s why the curb is free.”
“No,”Reece said. “Do you need me to drop you off so you don’t have to walk in the cold?”
In the passenger seat, Grayson side-eyed him, but after a moment seemed to understand Reece was sincerely offering, not making fun of him. “What I need is for you to park sometime tonight,” Grayson said. “We should just valet—”
“Valet?No way in—doesn’t matter, there’s a spot.”
Reece passed a CR-V parked at the curb of the packed downtown street and pulled up alongside the Forrester just beyond.
Grayson snorted. “Even this toy won’t fit there.”
“Of course it will.”
“No, it won’t. But go ahead and try and give me another chance to say I told you so.”
“It’ll fit,” Reece insisted.
“You think so?” Grayson leaned forward. “Tell me, which one of us is gonna be better at parallel parking, the specialist or the fussiest driver in the Pacific Northwest?”
Reece narrowed his eyes.
Then he threw the car into reverse, stabbed the gas, and, with two quick twists of the steering wheel, tucked it between the Forrester and the CR-V, straight as a ruler.
