Divide & Conquer (22 page)

Ty looked after her, then turned to frown at Zane. “You speak Italian now?” he asked dangerously. It was still a touchy topic, even almost three months after the cruise ship assignment where not knowing Italian had almost gotten him killed.

“I have no idea what she said,” Zane said under his breath. “But it didn"t sound good, now did it?”

“I was about to smack you,” Ty grumbled. He kept a loose hold on Zane"s elbow as the woman led them to one of the tables near a wide window. They didn"t even have to weave around many tables to get to it.

Ty glanced around the dining room as he took off his jacket. It was an okay place, but the food had to be spectacular for Zane to eat here three times a week. Ty much preferred his pub; it had character.

And a bottle of Grand Marnier with his name on it behind glass over the bar. One-Eyed Mike"s was four blocks from his house and almost halfway between his house and Zane"s apartment. Much less classy and much more comfortable. He shook his head as he slid into one of the seats.

Zane tentatively reached out to his side, and his fingertips brushed the glass window. “Okay, I know where I am,” he said, sounding satisfied as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Leticia whisked by again, dropping off glasses of ice water, a basket of what looked like fresh-baked bread, a dish of real butter pats, and two large single-sheet menus printed on heavyweight paper. After a pause, she took Zane"s menu back and patted him on the shoulder.

“Ryan will be right out,” she announced before leaving.

“Well. I guess it"s pretty obvious I can"t see, huh?” Zane commented.

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Ty looked up from the menu. He narrowed his eyes, leaned forward to look at Zane closer, then reached out slowly and waved his hand in front of Zane"s face. Zane didn"t even blink. “It"s… pretty obvious,” he said apologetically. He sighed and looked down at the menu again. When he and his brother had been little and gone to visit their great-grandparents, they had amused themselves by blindfolding each other and attempting to navigate various obstacles, just to see how Grandmother Griffin had done it.

But there was a difference between closing your eyes and being blind. Even with a blindfold, there were still variances in light that could give you hints as to where you were and what was going on.

Complete and total darkness—blindness—could be a lonely and frightening thing. Zane was taking it pretty well, considering.

Ty returned his attention to the menu full of Italian dishes and grimaced. “You come here three days a week? Every week?”

Zane edged a shoulder up. “It"s right here by my place, and I love Italian food. There"s plenty of choices if you don"t want traditional red sauce. Sometimes I just get the Baltimore salad.”

Ty looked up at him dubiously. “I don"t get what"s so special about….” He trailed off as he saw a waiter come around the corner and head for their table.

The man was dressed all in black like the others, and he was impressively fit. The black T-shirt might as well have been painted over well-defined muscles. His shoulders were broad, and he was trim through the waist. He had dusky skin and sharp, defined facial features, and his hair would have been dark if it hadn"t been shorn down practically to the scalp. It made him look sleek.

“Oh,” Ty muttered dejectedly.

“Hmm?” Zane asked as he messed with his napkin. Ty shook his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying not to laugh.

The waiter stopped at another table briefly, then hurried over to them. His lips were pulled into a worried frown. “Zane,” the man said as he took the last couple of steps to the table. “Leticia told me 142 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

something had happened.” When he stopped, he put a hand on Zane"s shoulder.

To Ty"s mild surprise, Zane didn"t flinch away. “You could say that,” he replied as he waved a hand at his eyes. “Work hazard. Got caught a little too close to the explosion at the shopping complex,” he added in a very short explanation.

Ty watched Zane and the handsome waiter converse, knowing he had one eyebrow raised and his mouth hanging open. He couldn"t help it.

“That"s terrible!” the man exclaimed. “You can"t see anything?”

Zane shook his head. “Nothing at all. So I have to have help to get around.” He gestured across the table at Ty. “Ryan, this is my partner, Ty Grady. Ty, this is Ryan Morelli.”

“Hi,” Ty said unenthusiastically.

“Welcome to Chiapparelli"s,” Ryan said with a pleasant smile.

“Thanks for bringing Zane by. If I don"t see him every few days, I wonder if he"s sitting at home starving.”

“Gee, thanks,” Zane muttered.

“That"s… that"s… nice,” Ty managed to get out. He cleared his throat and reached for his napkin.

Ryan laughed and pushed at Zane"s shoulder. “I"ve seen that kitchen. It"s a travesty. Mine is much better. Now, what can I get you gentlemen for dinner? Zane, we"ve got the gnocchi today,” he said, clearly trying to tempt him.

“So it"s either sit at home and starve or eat here and spend an extra hour at the gym every night to work off the calories,” Zane said ruefully. “Yes, the gnocchi sounds good. And some fried provolone to start.”

“I"ll bring you some iced tea.” Ryan turned his attention to Ty.

“Can I bring you a drink? We have a wine list and a fully stocked bar.

And I"m happy to describe anything on the menu for you.”

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Ty was glaring at Zane, and he had a hard time wiping it off his face before he looked up at the waiter. He smiled woodenly and nodded. “You have Guinness?”

“Yeah, we have to cater to the other Europeans too,” Ryan said with a grin. “A pint, then?”

Ty nodded and shot another glare at Zane, irritated that his partner couldn"t even see it.

“We"ve got all your traditional Italian favorites,” Ryan said, gesturing at the menu. “We also got in fresh fish today, if that sounds good.”

Zane chuckled quietly and covered his mouth with his hand, probably to hide a grin. Ty hadn"t been fond of fish since the cruise debacle.

Ty cleared his throat again and offered the waiter another smile that probably came across as more of a snarl. “Anything with white sauce,” he ordered as he handed the man his menu.

“Can do. That comes with our house salad, unless you"d like to substitute?” Ryan asked. He glanced at Zane briefly for about the third time.

Ty bit his lip and shook his head. He offered the man another forced smile, then returned his death glare to Zane.

“Okay, then,” Ryan continued. “I"ll be back with your drinks and appetizer.” He patted Zane"s shoulder again.

“Thanks,” Zane said, tipping his head back to smile in Ryan"s general direction.

As soon as Ryan moved away, Ty leaned his elbows on the table and kicked Zane"s shin under the white linen tablecloth. Zane yelped and jostled the table, setting the ice water in the glasses to rocking.

“What"s that for?” he asked, a wounded look on his face.

“You eat here three times a week,” Ty said through gritted teeth.

“Sometimes,” Zane said, brow furrowing. “So?”

144 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“So? Jersey Shore over there is awfully pretty,” Ty grumbled.

“„My kitchen is better than yours,"” he mimicked under his breath as he reached for his water glass.

Zane tipped his head to one side, looking thoughtful. “He brought my carry-out a few weeks ago when I called in an order and then forgot because I was talking to Freddy about a search warrant.”

“How thoughtful of him,” Ty said drily.

Zane shrugged. “He"s a nice guy. I guess I"ve been a pretty good customer lately.”

Ty continued to glare at him evilly. And Zane continued to be oblivious, since he couldn"t see it. Damn him. “That"s not why he did it. You"re lucky I feel sorry for you right now or I"d kick your ass,” he muttered as he looked out the window.

Zane stopped picking apart the bread he had in hand. “What for?”

Ty continued to grumble at him as he sipped at his water.

Although Zane couldn"t see, he was sitting right across from Ty, so it looked like his partner was peering right at him.

Then Zane blinked a couple of times and sat back. “Okay, I just caught up with the „pretty" comment.”

“Little slow on the uptake?” Ty challenged.

Mischief chased across Zane"s face before he cleared his throat and hid it. “You"d probably kick me again if I said the scenery here was as good as the food, huh?”

“Zane,” Ty said warningly.

Zane rolled his eyes and shook his head. “The food really is good,” he insisted.

“It better be,” Ty warned. He peered at Zane, letting himself investigate the feeling rippling through him. It wasn"t that he suspected anything was going on, because he knew Zane better than that. But the sensation of being jealous, no matter how slight it was, was something foreign to Ty. He almost liked it, safe in the knowledge that Zane was completely unaware of the attention.

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“He delivers, huh?” Ty said to Zane quietly. “I"m burning every little brown bag I find in your fridge from now on.”

Zane just smiled innocently. “Even the cheesecake?”

Ty liked that damn cheesecake; of
course
it came from here.

“Don"t push me, Stevie Wonder,” he growled.

“YEAH, I understand,” Graham whispered into the cell phone, trying to cover his annoyance. Pierce was getting on his nerves with all his damn orders, and in Graham"s opinion, he was taking this shit too seriously.

It was one thing to steal money from big banks to pad his wallet.

The banks were insured. It didn"t hurt anybody. But the bombs were real now and getting bigger and meaner. Pierce liked the destruction.

He wanted to hurt people, especially cops. He said they were making some kind of statement now, not just creating a diversion to keep the cops distracted. It was making Graham and the others nervous. He hadn"t signed up for a manifesto; he just wanted the extra cash

“This is the big one, man. We need all hands on deck,” Pierce was saying furtively. “The best way to expose society"s corruption is to split it open bit by bit and show everyone—everyone!—just what we"re dealing with here. The government pigs—”

Graham rolled his eyes. Who talked like that? “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I"ll be there, okay? I have to go or I"m gonna get fired.” He hung up before Pierce could start into his “manifesto” again.

He peered through the kitchen door to see if table three was clear yet. He could see Ryan out there talking to two big dudes who looked vaguely familiar. Graham belatedly recognized the darker one. Mr.

Garrett. No, Agent Garrett. He was some sort of government guy, always smiling and friendly, didn"t make a fuss, always left generous tips. He seemed like a decent guy, for a Fed.

Graham looked at them closer, wondering why Garrett looked odd. He wasn"t exactly looking at Ryan when he spoke to him, nor was 146 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

he looking at the pissed-off guy in the blue suit across the table from him. He seemed to be staring off into the middle distance.

When Ryan left them and came through the door, he looked troubled. Graham nodded at the table. “What"s wrong with him?”

Ryan looked back at the two men. “He said he was one of the agents caught in that explosion down at the harbor shops. He lost his vision.” He gave them one last sympathetic glance and then was gone, off to the kitchen to put in an order.

Suddenly Graham recognized them: the two agents from television that Pierce had the vendetta against. The other man"s name was Grady, and Pierce had yet to stop talking about him.

Caught in the explosion.
Graham stood looking out at Agent Garrett. The explosion
they
set in the shopping mall. The bomb Pierce insisted needed to be bigger and better.

Graham had been sitting beside Hannah when she"d reluctantly called in the tip that sent the cops and FBI to that building. He had helped lure Agent Garrett into that building. Because of him and his friends, that man, a decent man, a man he knew, was now blind. How many more people like him had they hurt? Or
killed
?

Graham"s stomach turned. He ran and took the stairs two at a time, trying to get to the bathroom before he was sick.

ZANE sighed as he shut the front door and leaned back against it.

While dinner had been great—the food at Chiapparelli"s always was—

he"d been tense, even in those familiar surroundings, all too aware that someone could walk up behind him at any time. Having Ty there had helped, but Zane was still glad to be home.

“Will you put my leftovers in the fridge?” Zane asked as he held out the brown bag holding the plastic and tin container, stifling the laugh that threatened.

Ty snatched it from him with a grunt. A moment later Zane heard the bag hit the floor, and without warning he was slammed against the Divide & Conquer | 147

door behind him. Ty held him there by both shoulders, fingers digging in hard. But he ghosted his lips along Zane"s in gentle contrast to the rough treatment. Zane caught his breath, surprised by the dichotomy and immediately interested in more.

Ty pressed against him, licking at his lips. “I think you should find a new favorite restaurant,” he murmured before dragging his teeth across Zane"s lower lip.