Stars & Stripes (7 page)

Zane’s knee rapped against Ty’s shoulder. When Ty looked up at Zane, Zane’s eyes were focused on him. He rested his cast on Zane’s leg and leaned against the couch, trying to come to terms with the fact that they no longer had to hide from his family. It was freeing, but it also felt like another shoe was preparing to drop somewhere.

“Well, I just have to say it, and I know it’ll embarrass you,” Mara announced, “but you two are adorable together.”

Ty heard a choked laugh from behind him as he blinked at his mother. True to form, he felt himself blushing.

Earl was smiling as he leaned back on the loveseat.

“That’s a word I would never have chosen to describe Ty,” Zane said, practically snickering.

“Well, you didn’t raise him. He was cute once. One day I’ll show you the picture books.”

“Ma, please,” Ty begged, beginning to laugh as Deuce cackled from his spot on the other end of the couch. Ty glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. “How’s Livi and the baby?”

“Oh, nicely played.”

Ty shrugged.

“Livi is as happy as she can be when she’s not puking her brains out. Her dad hates me, but her mom keeps sending us baby boutique catalogues.”

“Have you found out if it’s a boy or girl yet?” Mara asked.

Deuce shook his head.

“Are you going to?”

“Livi wants to know so we can decorate. She wants to continue the tradition of the names, though. She thinks it’s the greatest thing ever.”

“Really?” Ty blurted, and Deuce laughed and nodded.

“Is that just the boys?” Zane asked.

“Yeah, the first boys in the family get their maternal grandmother’s maiden names, the second get their paternal grandmother’s. Then it gets convoluted,” Deuce said with a smirk. “Dad’s first name is Antrim. Grandpa’s is actually Chester.”

“Fascinating,” Zane said.

“So, if you have a boy, what’s his name going to be?” Ty asked, trying to keep any opinion of the matter out of his voice.

“Rigsdale.”

“Oh God, Deacon,” Ty groaned before he could stop himself.

“I know. I’m praying for a girl.”

“Good luck with that,” Zane said half under his breath, then flinched and pulled his phone from his pocket to look at the display.

Ty cleared his throat. “Who wants some pie?” he asked as he pushed himself up off the floor.

“Yeah, me,” Zane answered as he stood and paced toward the front door, answering the call. “Hey. Everything okay?”

Ty glanced back at him as he made his way toward the kitchen. He assumed it was Zane’s sister; she was the only person Zane ever used that voice with. He slowed when Zane stopped mid-stride, hand out to open the door, shoulders snapping back. “What? Where is he?” Judging by his tone, something was very wrong. Zane listened silently, the frown on his face deepening. “And no one was with him?”

Ty watched him, pie and baby names and everything else forgotten.

 “I’ll be on a plane as soon as I can. I’ll text you my flight information. Have Manuel pick me up at the airport.” Zane slid the phone back into his pocket. When he turned back to see all the Gradys watching him, he froze.

When he didn’t speak, Ty spread his hands out. “What happened?”

Zane looked at him and swallowed. “My dad’s been shot.”

“Oh my gracious,” Mara exclaimed.

“You’re going down there?”

Zane nodded.

“I’m going with you.”

“Ty.”

Earl was already heading for the kitchen. “I’ll call Jim, see if he can get one of his boys to meet you with a Sheriff’s car. Get you to the airport faster.”

Zane stared at Ty, dumbstruck and distressed. He no longer even tried to hide behind that mask he’d once used.

“I’m going with you.”

“How?” Zane asked, sounding defeated. “You can’t get off work without telling them why.”

Ty gritted his teeth, but Zane was right. He would never be given time off work for his partner’s family emergency, especially since he was already pretty far into his personal days.

Zane took a deep breath. Ty reached up to hug him, and Zane rested his forehead on Ty’s shoulder.

“It’ll be okay.”

“What interest does the FBI have in this case?”

“None,” Zane answered. He was sitting in the double oven that served as the sheriff’s outpost for the area ranches, fighting the urge to yank his tie off and use it to wipe away the sweat running down the center of his back. The old A/C unit in the window of the trailer wasn’t doing anything to fend off the summer temperatures of Texas.

The sheriff cocked his head, and Zane leaned forward to speak in lower tones. “Harrison Garrett is my father. I’m not here in any official capacity; I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“You’re one of
those
Garretts?” the sheriff asked, and Zane could see the man’s defenses lowering.

“That’s right.”

Zane produced his identification again. The sheriff gave it another once over, taking his time with it. He nodded and held up a thin file, then set it in front of Zane. “That’s all I got to give you.”

Zane paged through the file, distraught by the lack of information.

“I can save you some time.”

Zane glanced up at him and nodded.

“This is the fifth time your daddy’s found evidence of trespassers on the ranch. Same place every time. We don’t know what they’re doing, or why they’re doing it. There’s nothing out there.”

“Why do you think the encounter was violent this time and not ever before?” Zane asked. He pushed the file into his laptop case.

“Well, this was the first time he’d caught them in action. Before, it was always after the fact. Harrison came across them, challenged them, and they fired at him. He was hit, but managed to get away. Tied himself to the saddle in case he passed out before his horse could make it back to the big house.”

Zane couldn’t help but smile as he listened to the account. His dad was a hard man. Zane wouldn’t want to meet up with him on the open plains, that was for sure.

“What about the scene itself?”

The sheriff winced. “Not much to it. Two days from everything. Ground’s been baked harder than cement. Summer rain washed away what was left. I got some good trackers here, but there was nothing to find.”

Zane nodded. He knew a pretty good tracker himself. Maybe he could convince his boss to allow Ty to come out here and help him.

He kind of doubted it.

“And there’s nothing local going on? Nothing your guys have caught wind of?”

“Couple brawls between the ranch hands at the establishments. Couple boys with more money than they should have. Their names are in that file, but it’s nothing a little backdoor gambling won’t explain.”

Zane thanked the sheriff, shaking his hand before retreating from the stifling trailer and into the open air. The sun was blazing down, making the blacktop appear to waver. But it felt cooler out here than it had in there. He hurried to the truck, one of the ranch’s fleet, and fumbled to get the engine running before he burst into flames.

He sat in the cab, waiting for the air to kick in and ruminating over what he’d just learned. There was no rhyme or reason to it. He’d looked at a map of the area where his dad had encountered the trespassers, and it was near nothing but an old pump house. The underground river that had once fed the spring had long since changed its course, making the area just another barren corner of the massive ranch that served no purpose but as a riding trail for visitors.

Zane got the truck moving, heading back to the ranch and the guesthouse he had claimed as his while there. After a shower to wipe away the dust and massive, massive amounts of dried sweat, he settled at the kitchen table and pulled out his cell phone to check the time. Nine at night—still early enough to phone Ty without waking him.

He hadn’t been diligent with keeping in touch, and Ty had sent text messages to check on him rather than risk calling at an inopportune time.

Zane found that he couldn’t wait to hear Ty’s rumbling, easy voice in his ear. He’d been in Texas three days, and he was starting to feel almost homesick. He couldn’t recall feeling like that before, even as a child.

For the first time, he had a home he actually wanted to call home. The thought made him both ecstatic and melancholy.

He pulled up Ty’s number and hit the button. When Ty answered, it sounded almost like a pair of plastic Solo cups cartwheeling down stairs. A moment of background noise later, Ty answered with a breathless, “This is Special Agent Grady, hang up and call 911 if this is an emergency.”

Zane chuckled. Apparently, Ty hadn’t even been able to look at the display to see Zane’s name.

There were a few banging sounds and another tumble of plastic, then a muttered oath from Ty. Again, he spoke into the phone. “One second.”

In the background was a piercing shriek, then a round of raucous laughter, and another woman’s scream to top it all off. Ty, sounding far away, like he was holding the phone near his hip, shouted, “Just let me shoot it!”

A rustle, and then Ty was the one screaming. Zane remembered the last time he’d heard that sound coming from Ty.

“It can’t be a mouse in the house with Smith and Wesson on duty,” he said, although he knew Ty wasn’t listening.

He dismissed the idea that Ty was at home after being treated to several people screaming, cursing, and banging. Some voices were overcome with laughter, some screaming bloody murder.

“Who the hell brings a ferret into a bar?” Ty shouted, and someone shouted back that all the shouting was scaring the ferret.

Zane frowned as he listened to the chaotic scene for another minute before most of the activity ceased.

When Ty returned to the phone, he was out of breath and sounding quite contrite. “This is Agent Grady.”

“Hey, doll,” Zane said, lips curving into a smile just at hearing Ty’s voice.

“Zane? Thank God. I knew I was going to get written up for that.”

Zane laughed. “Having a rough night?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“A ferret, huh? Well, I was close.”

“Not as close as I was. How’s your dad?”

Zane sighed. “He’s all right. They’ve got him in a regular room now. Talking about sending him home in a few days.”

“That’s good. How are you?”

Zane considered how to answer that, though the pause told more of the truth than any words he could speak. “More tired than I should be.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do,” Ty said in the whispered, intimate tone Zane had been so desperate to hear.

“Got a few minutes to talk to me?”

“Yeah, give me one second.” Ty said good-bye to whoever else had been involved in the business with the ferret, and a moment later Zane could hear traffic and a breeze brushing over the speaker of Ty’s phone. He’d obviously been at a bar, been assaulted by a ferret, and was now walking home. It was a typical night for Ty. “I’m all yours.”

Zane hummed. “That’s nice to hear.” He rubbed one hand over his face. “Listen, the situation down here appears to be a little more . . . complex than I first thought.”

“How so?”

“They’re saying that Dad getting shot was a byproduct of trespassers, but I’m not buying it. Something feels . . . weird.”

“Like, ‘our job’ weird, or ‘you’re in Texas’ weird?”

“Both?”

“Tell me.”

“Dad says he was out riding on the far end of the property and came across trespassers near the old pump house. They took a few potshots and got lucky as they drove off.”

“Jesus.”

“The thing is, there’s nothing near that old pump house. No reason for anyone to be there. I can’t figure it out.”

“So, what, you’re calling in Jim Bowie and Sam Houston to clear shit up?”

Zane laughed despite the gravity of the situation. “I’m going to make some calls, yes, but I spoke with the sheriff this afternoon. He told me this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Dad’s reported it before.”

“Kind of far from the border for the usual stuff, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t make it this far. Could be drugs, could be sex trade, could be horses.”

“If the next option is sex with horses, I need you to stop right there.”

“We’re not in that part of Texas.”

“I bet you look hot in the hat though.”

“Stop trying to distract me!”

“I’m sorry,” Ty said, though he didn’t sound sincere.

“As I was saying . . . Jesus, Ty, what was I saying?”

“You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No.”

“You want to stay and look into it, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Zane said with a sigh of relief. He should have known Ty would understand. “So that means I might be here a little while longer than I’d planned.”

Ty didn’t say anything to that, but the silence spoke volumes about his disappointment. Zane could imagine his broad shoulders slumping as he walked. He wanted to reach through the phone and hug his partner, who was, for all intents and purposes, a large teddy bear with a gun.

“Do you need anything from my end?” Ty finally asked.

Zane could think of plenty, first and foremost being Ty himself. He didn’t say that, though, because he knew Ty couldn’t take time off work for Zane’s personal problems. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. I thought I might call and get a sanity check in the evenings.”