There was another pause. Then Grayson said, “Because an identical hat was found in a storage closet in Stone Solutions, next to Wayne Smith’s murdered body.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Reece said. “Why would I have left my hat at a crime scene?”
“So that I would have known it was you,” Grayson said.
Reece paused. That should have pissed him off, Grayson once again being so arrogant and making everything about himself.
Except Grayson wasn’t wrong. If Reece wanted him to know he was murdering his way through Seattle, the hat would have been a good calling card.
And irritatingly, instead of angry, some part of Reece felt a tiny bit better. It wasn’t that Grayson didn’t know him at all; he’d fallen for the framing because the real killer had manipulated him with something deeply personal, something that could trigger memories and cloud the judgment of even a man without emotions.
Not that it mattered. Obviously. “Well, Evan, youaremy obsession,” Reece said, infusing it with years of practiced sarcasm. “Practically my every thought is about you.”
As the words left his tongue, he had to bite back a swear. They hadn’t been a lie.
“You can give me a hard time if you like, butsomeonekilled Wayne Smith.” There was a new echoey quality to Grayson’s voice, like he was in a stairwell. “And I want to know who.”
“Gosh, if only you knew a great detective,” Reece said dryly.
“Your sister doesn’t think it was you. But you still haven’t said one way or another.”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
“’Cause I’m asking you, Reece.”
Askin’.Some traitorous part of Reece had always liked that stupid accent, and apparently always would. “Fine,” he bit out. “Sorry to disappoint, but this murder isn’t mine.”
“Thismurder. As in,this murder isn’t mine because I still know killing is wrong, orthis particular murder isn’t mine, but boy howdy, wait until you find the stack of bodies that are?”
Reece rolled his eyes. “Pick the answer that helps everyone sleep at night.”
“It wasn’t that one,” Grayson muttered.
“Why are you acting like you care?” Reece snapped beforehe meant to. “What difference does it make to you if I murdered the guard last night or if I murder ten people tomorrow? You’re certain it’s going to happen. And hey, just for old time’s sake, guess what? That wasn’t a lie,” he added with a sharper edge. “I am truly certain that’s what you believe.”
In Grayson’s background, a car door slammed shut. “Yeah?” Grayson said, voice gone lower, low enough to raise goose bumps on Reece’s skin. “Then how about you say for me, ‘Don’t worry, Evan, I’m never gonna kill anyone ’cause I still know murder’s wrong.’ Isthatgonna be a lie?”
Reece hung up instead of answering. He’d already talked too long.
He held the phone in his hand for a moment. On-screen was still the selfie he’d just sent Grayson, his own face looking back at him.
It was like looking at a stranger.
And then his eyes widened. “Shit,” he said out loud, tossing the phone to the passenger seat and frantically turning the key. “Shit, come on, girl, let’s go.”
Because in the picture, through the truck window behind his head, was the distant curve of the Seattle Great Wheel, lit up like a beacon against the night sky.
Clear evidence of Reece’s downtown location that even Grayson wasn’t going to miss.
The truck’s engine opened up with a roar as he floored it up the hill, away from the water. There was still downtown traffic slowing him, even on a freezing late evening, but it was fine. This wasfine. Yes, he’d accidentally sent Grayson unmistakable evidence that he was downtown, and yes, the high-rise with the studio wasn’t far away, andyes, Reece had heard Grayson’s car door slam, but it was allfine, he wasn’t going to catch up in the fuckingSmart car—
Reece heard it before he saw it—the unmistakable whineof one of the world’s fastest motorcycle engines. He looked to the right, just in time to catch the sight of his own Smart car barreling the wrong way down a one-way street and heading straight for him.
Reece swore again as he accelerated, blowing past a Do Not Enter sign as he cut across the intersection against the light and the wrong way up a one-way of his own. He took the first opening, another left turn onto a thankfully mostly empty street, and gunned it.
After a handful of blocks, he glanced in the rearview mirror.
Fuck. There was Grayson.
