Page 59 of Twisted Shadows
That was definitely Grayson’s team at work. And maybe Jamey should stop pretending she wasn’t itching to work with them, Grayson and all.
She watched the clock on the microwave flip from 5:43 to 5:44. “Send me what you’ve got,” she said.
The vibration of his wristwatch woke Grayson. He cracked his eyes and glanced at the screen to seeDetective St. Jameson the caller ID.
He reached down to the floor next to Reece’s couch and grabbed his phone.
“Grayson.” He kept his voice the barest whisper. She’d hear it.
“They found Stensby’s cruiser abandoned out by Lake Sammamish.”
Grayson raised an eyebrow.
The studio was quiet at that hour, only a few cars outside, the hum of the refrigerator, Reece’s soft breaths. Grayson sat partway up, enough to see Reece sprawled on the studio’s double bed. Still fast asleep—peacefully asleep, even.
Grayson lay back down. “Got any details?” he said, keeping up the whisper.
“It’s smashed up like it went a few rounds with a junkyard car crusher, apparently,” she said. “And no one has seen Stensby since the AMI dinner last night.”
Interesting. “Any leads on your caller?”
“Because he’s likely somehow involved?” she said. “No.” She paused, then said, “He had an accent just like yours.”
She hadn’t mentioned that the night before, but then, their conversation had been short by necessity. “A lot of people do.”
“Not around here,” she said. “He had your accent and he said he hadpersonal interest in Reece’s safety. Does that describe anyone you know?”
“No,” Grayson said honestly. “I’ve met a lot of people interested in empaths, but I don’t know any other Texans who’d be personally interested in your brother.”
“I’ll send you Stensby’s number, but whoever was on his phone last night, they’re not answering. Calls are going straight to voicemail now; they probably chucked Stensby’s phone in the ocean.” She sighed. “So you’re back in Seattle, then? Reece said he was with you last night; I trust you checked his apartment to make sure Stensby didn’t sabotage that too?”
Grayson glanced over at Reece again, gaze lingering. “Definitely saw the apartment, yeah.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.” Her voice had taken on a note of suspicion. “Where’s Reece?”
He ran a hand over his face. She wasn’t gonna like this. “About five feet away from me.”
There was a pause. “Five feet.”
Grayson cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Where.”
“His new apartment.”
“You’re in his apartment.” No, she didn’t like this at all. “Your next sentence better promise me he’s handcuff-free.”
“He is.” Grayson propped himself up on his elbow. “I slept on his couch. Thought he ought to have someone with him.”
“Because of Stensby?”
“Because of him and whoever’s been following Reece.”
“Following Reece?” St. James sounded shocked. “He didn’t tell me that part.”
“No, he—”
“Andyoudidn’t tell me that part either,” she said, more darkly. “Instead of calling for my help, you decided Agent Empath Hunter ought to sleep over at my empath brother’s house. Forsafety,” she added, with a depth of sarcasm that could only have come from Reece’s sister.
