Greg stopped walking when he reached the stretch of median where the silver sedan had crumpled.
This was the spot where Jessica's soul had separated from her body.
There should have been a reaper there, standing beside her, holding her hand. Telling her it was going to be okay,the way Greg had told Marco Reyes-Ybarra it was going to be okay.
But Greg had been thirty yards away with his knees on the asphalt and his hands on Dustin's face, and he hadn't even remembered Jessica existed until the window was closed.
What kind of reaper was he?
Greg tried to shake the thought.
He had to find his clipboard. This was where he'd set it down.
But it wasn't here anymore.
Greg looked left. Right. He walked ten paces south and ten paces north. He checked the shoulder and the grass beyond it.
Nothing.
Had someone taken it?
But why would they?
And what was Greg going to do now?
Without his clipboard, he would have to return to HQ.
Was that why it wasn't here anymore? Because Morrith wanted him to come back and face him?
Panic rose like a sharp, prickly thing in Greg's throat. There was nothing he could say to his supervisor. No way he could explain?—
“Looking for this?”
Greg spun around.
A man was sitting on the guardrail ten feet away, holding Greg's clipboard.
He hadn't been there a second ago. Greg was certain of that. He'd walked past that exact stretch of guardrail moments ago and it had been empty.
The man looked ordinary enough. Early thirties. Brown hair, brown eyes. He was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt and a bow tie patterned with… were those small rubber ducks?
“Who are you?” Greg asked.
“Noah,” the man said pleasantly. “And you're Grigoreth, aren't you? Field Reaper, first solo assignment. Currently...” He glanced at Greg's translucent hands. “Having a rough week.”
“How do you have my clipboard?”
“I picked it up.” Noah turned the clipboard over in his hands, examining it with casual interest. “You left it on a highway. That seemed careless for someone whose bodily stability depends on it.”
“I was—” Greg stopped. He'd been about to sayI was dealing with an emergency,but the emergency had been Dustin, and explaining that to a stranger felt like exposing a wound. “I need it back. Please.”
“Of course.” Noah didn't hand it over. “In a moment.”
“I don't have a moment. I'm dissolving.”
“I can see that. It looks uncomfortable.” Noah studied him. “You've been dissolving since yesterday afternoon, and yet you're still here.” He tilted his head. “Why do you think that is?”
Greg licked his lips. How did this Noah person know so much?
