Page 20 of Twisted Shadows

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Gretel strained her ears.

“Ah well. It was a long shot, but I always have to ask,” Beau said ruefully. “Of course I can get you an AMI member list.”

He was moving into his office now, his voice quieting. Beau had always spouted off the lines about AMI needing a good offense, needing to take the fight to the empaths, and that had seemed logical enough. Except now, Gretel had seen for herself what happened when people took a fight to an empath: Reece Davies had paranormal abilities and he’d still let three guards at Stone Solutions rough him up instead of fighting back.

Her gaze went back to her phone and the article. This empath found murdered in the park would also have been a pacifist, like Reece. These were people who wouldn’t even defend themselves because they were afraid to hurt you—what kind of offense did you really need?

A multibillion-dollar one, apparently, judging from the size of and funding behind Stone Solutions.

Her phone vibrated in her hand.

Alex: Hey, genius.

Alex: What are the chances I could buy you brunch tomorrow so we could chat about blogs and empaths and AMI?

She broke into a smile. It was from the cute blogger she’d met at the AMI meeting the night before, Alex. He’d only given her his first name, and she’d forgotten to ask for a last, too distracted by the Southern accent and hazel eyes and the rare pleasure of meeting someone who seemed genuinely interested in her work.

Gretel: Ten a.m.?

CHAPTER SIX

American Minds Intact is proud to sponsor Privacy in the Digital Age, a cutting-edge conference that asks the hard questions about how we protect our minds and thoughts when intrusions are everywhere. Don’t miss our special keynote on Monday, now from Vivian Marist, president of Stone Solutions Canada!

Notice: Conference registration is required. We collect a broad range of personal data, which may be shared or sold at any time to third-party organizations, affiliates, advertisers, apps, internet service providers, and others. All registrants will be automatically added to our mailing lists and considered to consent to all terms and conditions.

—DIGITAL DIRECT MAIL MARKETING CAMPAIGN

Jamey had justgotten home from dropping off Aisha when her phone chirped with an incoming text.

Stensby: Can I talk to you? It’s about empaths.

It was from one of the SPD officers she’d worked with over the years, Jared Stensby. As she closed the front door behind her, she could hear the shower running at the back of the house. Surprising Liam sounded like a much better time than talking to any of the SPD’s officers, but she reluctantly dialed Stensby.

“Jamey.” Stensby sounded relieved. “Thanks for calling. I know you’re not on the force anymore, but I don’t have anyone else I can try for this.”

Jamey frowned. “What’s going on with empaths?” she asked, as she stepped into the kitchen, following her nose to the coffee maker. She and Liam liked the same local roastery and he must have started a pot before getting in the shower. She already loved living with him.

“We got an APB from Port Angeles,” Stensby said. “An empath is missing.”

“Who?” Jamey said. “I’ve never met an empath from Port Angeles.”

“Canadian tourist. Port A PD doesn’t have anyone who knows anything about empaths,” Stensby said, “but with you gone, we don’t either.”

Jamey pulled a mug out of the cabinet. That was true. The only person she would have trusted besides herself on anything empath-related was Josh Taylor, and he’d been another victim of November’s mess. But Aisha was on her way to investigate a Canadian empath’s murder; what were the odds another Canadian empath just happened to be missing in the States?

“For the record, it’s been nuts around here since the Great Empath Shitshow that was the Hathaway murder,” Stensby said. “We get questions every day wanting details about what happened on the roof of Stone Solutions.”

The SPD didn’t know an empath was responsible for Hathaway’s death, but they were aware it hadn’t been a normal case. Jamey’s memories from the roof were blurred, thanks to having Cora Falcon’s empathy in her system at the time, but she knew the SPD had arrived to find Reece kneeling in surrender at Grayson’s feet next to Cedrick Stone’s unconscious, bloody body. It couldn’t have looked good. “And what are you telling them?” she said coolly.

“We have a script we have to stick to.”

“And you’re all sticking to it?” Jamey pressed. “Because no disrespect, but you’ve never really seemed like the type who cared about empaths. I know you never liked Reece.”

“Because your brother is annoying as fuck,” Stensby said bluntly. “But come on, Jamey, I still care about myjob. I care about missing people, even if they’re empaths.”

Jamey glanced through the window at her pine trees, a rich deep green against the gray day. “So you want me to go to Port Angeles and look for this empath?”

“You don’t even have to tell local PD you’re there. I can send you everything we have, the name, the last known locations. You can do whatever you want with that information and I can sleep a little easier knowing you’re on the case.”