Divide & Conquer (20 page)

“No idea. And I"ve got no information after being in the hospital. I"m sure Ty will find out what he can while he"s at the office.”

“No, Zane. I mean,
why
was there a bomb
there
? Who called it in? Was it a trap? Think about it. Come up with a theory.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that.” He shook his head. “Hey, Deuce?”

“Yeah?” He sounded amused.

“Why are you surprised?” Zane asked, giving into the curiosity niggling at him. “Is it that he told me, or that he feels that way to start with?”

“I knew he was in love with you when we were in West Virginia, Zane. I"m surprised he figured it out. And yeah, I"m surprised as hell that he told you.”

Zane barely stopped himself from sitting up and dumping Ty on the floor. “In West Virginia? That was almost four months ago.”

“That surprises you?”

“Deuce, if I hadn"t been scared out of my fucking mind when he told me, I would have fallen over from the shock,” Zane said with some amount of surety.

Deuce began to laugh softly. “And then he shoved you over the edge of a balcony or something, I know. Very romantic.” He began to laugh harder.

“It was a three-story drop!” Zane growled in outrage. “I didn"t even get a chance to say anything because the ship security guys were waiting for us!”

The laughter trailed off, and the line was silent for a moment.

“What would you have said that you can"t say now?” Deuce asked, voice neutral.

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Zane literally flinched, flashing back to the confusing coil of emotions that had rocked him in that not even two minutes of revelation, jumping, and falling after Ty had said “I love you.” But now, he wasn"t remembering the literal fall from three decks above a cruise ship swimming pool. He was feeling the echoes of his more recent emotional shock in the stands at a fan-filled softball tournament: The fall wasn"t coming. It was already over. He just had to figure out how to find words of his own. The honest words. “I don"t know,” he got out in a strangled whisper.

Deuce hummed again. “Maybe you should use some of your free time thinking about that. "Cause if I know my brother, he"ll stick with you through just about anything, including going blind. But I don"t know how long he"ll stick around if he"s the only one thinking he"s in love.”

Zane frowned but had nothing to reply, and they sat there in silence, Zane with his mind buzzing in circles, for almost a full minute before he cleared his throat quietly. “Thanks for the talk, Deuce. I really appreciate it.”

“Any time, Zane. You know that,” Deuce told him with confidence. “Say hello to my brother, huh?”

“Yeah, I will,” Zane agreed, smoothing his palm down over Ty"s belly. “Talk to you later.” He hit the end-call button out of habit; he didn"t need to see the phone to know where it was. “Well,” he muttered, “that was full of up and downs, wasn"t it?”

Ty grunted as if in answer and fitfully rolled onto his side.

Zane smiled. He did feel better, though after that last bit of conversation, he wasn"t sure he should.

WHEN the phone rang, Zane startled and sat up in a rush, his left hand reaching out to fumble for his phone. He hit solid, warm skin, and he paused in place. He was on the wrong side of the bed, and he could tell by the bustle of sound from the street that it wasn"t the middle of the night. He still couldn"t see. The disappointment and fear welled into his throat.

128 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“Ow, Zane,” Ty grunted in a monotone, sleepy voice as Zane pawed at him. He pushed Zane"s hand away, and the bed dipped as he rolled over. Zane heard him smack his hand onto the table where the cell phone rang. “Grady,” he grunted in answer to the call. He sighed in annoyance. “Now?” he asked whoever was on the other end of the call.

“Well, why don"t you come here and get it from me like all the other witnesses?” he asked petulantly. “Fine. I"m at Garrett"s place.”

Then he clicked the phone closed and groaned plaintively, rolling around again. Zane knew him well enough to guess he was burying his head under his pillow in protest.

Zane sighed and lay back down, facing toward Ty, dragging his own pillow under his chest. “Work?” he murmured, wide awake now, although the scare was fading.

“Sort of,” Ty mumbled as he lifted up and then rolled out of bed, barely disturbing the mattress. “They want a witness statement from me,” he said as his voice trailed off toward the hallway. “They"re sending a car.”

Zane missed the warmth of Ty"s body immediately. He stretched his hand out to rub his fingers across the still-warm fitted sheet. “About the bomb at the baseball field?”

“That and the other. And I"ve got to go in and find that damn kid and get your keys back.”

“Not like I need them,” Zane muttered.

“You will soon enough,” Ty told him. The water began running soon after.

Zane stood to walk to the bathroom, but his phone"s low chime stopped him. He felt his way back to the nightstand and answered with a hint of trepidation. “Zane Garrett.”

“Special Agent Garrett, this is Dolores from PR at the Bureau.”

“Okay?” Dolores worked for White Strips. He wondered if her boss made her stock floss.

“We"ve received a large number of requests for interviews, and I wanted to check to see when you thought you might feel up to giving some.”

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“Giving some… interviews? About what?” Zane slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Some are speaking requests from community leaders who attended the classes you"ve spoken at recently. But we"ve also had several requests since the press somehow connected you to the aquarium bomb scare. You"re quite the celebrity now,” she said cheerfully.

Zane didn"t know what to say. “I"ll think about it,” he said weakly.

“Do you still plan to give your talk at the community class this coming Saturday?”

“Do you know what happened to me yesterday?” Zane asked carefully.

“Yes, and I"m very sorry,” she said, her voice softening. “The SAIC said that it"s your choice about Saturday. Can you let me know by tomorrow if you"re going or not?”

“Yeah, okay,” Zane said. He ended the call and set the phone back on the nightstand as he heard the water cut off. Zane felt Ty moving around the small room very shortly after.

“You okay?” Ty said in a low voice, much closer to Zane than he"d expected. Ty patted his shoulder and sidled past him.

Zane reached out just in time for his fingers to drag down the damp skin of Ty"s back. “Yeah.”

Ty hummed in response, the sound coming from the general direction of the end of Zane"s bed. “Have you seen my blue tie?” he asked distractedly.

Zane chuckled before he could help it. He stood up, moving away from the bed. “Ah. Maybe hanging with the other suit in the dry-cleaning bag.” They"d gotten into enough messes the past few months that now they each kept a suit or two at each other"s place.

Ty grunted and made an apologetic noise. “Sorry. Forgot about the… seeing thing.”

130 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“Guess I"ll get used to it fast,” Zane said as he tried to figure out by listening what Ty was doing. “Did they say how long this would take?”

“Hour or two. Means probably four.” There was rustling and the occasional whiff of Old Spice, and Zane figured Ty was putting on clothing, waving his shirt or jacket through the air as he put his arms into the sleeves. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Zane reached out to touch the chest of drawers in front of him. He might as well get dressed if Ty was going to be gone. “No, I don"t guess so.”

Ty"s hands suddenly slid up Zane"s sides, moving to hug him as Ty"s chest pressed against his back. He was fully clothed—the soft material of Ty"s Tom Ford suit was unmistakable. Zane could feel the knot of his tie, the telltale quality of the material. “The blue suit,” Zane murmured. Close fit that hugged his shoulders and body, blue wool, silk overcheck, broken herringbone pattern, single-breasted peak lapel.

Ty looked incredible in it. As much as Ty loved to dress down—ratty Tshirts and busted-down jeans—he knew how to look good too.

“Yeah?” Ty replied, lips moving against Zane"s shoulder.

“Your favorite. You like the material. Pants fit right. Slim fit in the jacket.” Zane lifted his hands to touch Ty"s and slide up over the suit jacket sleeves to Ty"s elbows. “Makes your eyes brighter,” he said before really thinking about it.

“Is that so?”

Zane ducked his head, glad Ty was behind him and not looking at his face.

“I don"t think anyone at the office is concerned about the brightness of my eyes. Except maybe that fucking PR guy. But thank you, all the same,” Ty tacked on slyly.

“Yeah, well,” Zane murmured. That wasn"t the kind of thing he said to Ty. It just wasn"t. “I think I feel like an idiot now.”

Ty squeezed him hard. “You feel pretty good to me,” he whispered. Then his hands were sliding off Zane and he was stepping away.

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Zane swallowed hard as he lost touch with Ty"s warmth and had to grasp for something to say. Ty was going to think he"d lost his mind.

“I think I"ll go back to bed for a little while.”

“Might be a good idea.” Ty"s voice was moving away. “Get some sleep, Garrett. Call me if you need anything.”

Zane listened to the front door shut firmly and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. He felt hot and goddamn
tingly
all over, and it wasn"t from anything but what would probably qualify as sweet nothings on the open market. Flopping back on the bed, Zane rolled, pulled Ty"s pillow under him, and buried his face in the sheets. It was time to do some serious thinking; he figured he might as well be as comfortable as possible to do it.

“THANKS for coming in, Grady. You weren"t injured, right?” Scott Alston asked.

“Like you care,” Ty grunted at him. “Let"s get this rolling, huh?”

“Don"t be a jerk,” Alston shot back. “We"re all worried about Garrett, and there"re others hurt too. Wilkinson"s in the hospital with a compound fracture of her right leg, and three others are still there too.”

Ty held up both hands in surrender, closing his eyes. “I"m sorry.

Sorry.”

Alston sighed and sat down. “Yeah, well… it"s been a shitty couple of days.” He shuffled through some papers. “All right. I need to bend your brain about both bombings, the ballfield and the boutiques.”

“We talked about the alliteration, Scott,” Ty mumbled, not even managing a smile.

Alston glared at him, then ignored the words. “So far we"ve found only four agents who were in both places. That includes you and Garrett.”

“Who are the other two?” Ty asked as he settled into the seat across from Alston. It was uncomfortable and too low, forcing him to look up at the other man. Classic psychological tactic to make someone 132 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

being interrogated feel inferior and uncomfortable. Fucking asshole Feds….

“Waller and Carmichael, both from tech ops. They were on the street. As were you, right?”

Ty sighed heavily and nodded. He spent the next hour telling Alston everything he"d done, seen, felt, heard, and thought at both scenes, culminating in a ten-minute rant about his Bronco being melted and who the hell was going to pay to fix an old Bronco that was worth more as evidence than it was on the street and when the hell was he getting his Bronco back exactly?

After Alston managed to quiet him down, Ty was forced to sit there in the uncomfortable chair for another fifteen minutes as Alston got papers together for him to sign. By the time the man returned, Ty was calm again, concentrating on breathing in, breathing out, making the fucking Om sound in his head.

“Okay, Grady,” Alston said after Ty was finished running two pens out of ink. “There"s good news and… well, other news. What do you want first?”

“Scott, don"t make me hurt you,” Ty muttered dejectedly.

“You"re done here, Ty, no more paperwork,” Alston said sympathetically. “But… you"re also done for the rest of the week.

Mac"s orders.”

Ty stared at him, not truly surprised but still disgruntled over being benched. But who was he kidding, really? He was mangled from trying to stop a fireman the size of a refrigerator from scoring in a softball game that was basically a PR stunt, his Bronco was smoldering in an evidence yard somewhere, and his partner had been blown up and was helpless at home. Ty didn"t want to be here when he needed to be there.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands and picking at the medical tape around his fingers.

“It"s not just you, Ty,” Alston said, sounding surprisingly reassuring. “We"ve locked down Waller and Carmichael, too, and, well, you know about Garrett. We know you"re a target. Your face has been all over the news. They"re still running that sound bite of yours, Divide & Conquer | 133

and those bastards went after your truck. Now we need to figure out if Garrett was a target as well, and we want you off the field of play.

You"ll also have a skeleton crew checking on you, just in case.” He sighed. “I"ll call you as soon as we answer some of the metric ton of questions, okay?”

Ty just nodded and stood. “Are we done?” he asked tiredly. “Or am I due for a full rectal exam today too?”