“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.”
“Call whenever you want. Mostly I’ve been in the office, trying to inflict a paper cut on myself serious enough to require medical leave.”
Zane grinned. “Mac would just tell you to suck it up.”
“Hence the many failed attempts at tripping on the rug at the entryway. The one time I managed it, I tucked and rolled and popped back up before I could think twice about it.”
Zane laughed—the first real laugh he’d managed in days. It was hard to tell if Ty was serious or just playing with him, and that was one of the things Zane loved so much about him. Ty really was the type of guy who would ninja roll through the lobby of a government building and just keep walking as if nothing had happened.
A door opened and closed, and Zane heard rustling as Ty took off his jacket and moved around the house. Ty whispered to Smith and Wesson. It was a tender side to his lover no one else had seen, and it all culminated in the way he treated those damn cats.
For a brief moment, Zane was almost sick with the need to wrap Ty up in a hug.
“Are you really okay, Zane?”
“For now,” Zane said, voice hoarse. He shifted to look out the window. There were no lights. Nothing on the skyline but the occasional hill or scrub tree. And stars as far as he could see, stretching on into the night. “I wish you could see this, Ty.”
Ty was silent. Zane was familiar with that silence; he heard it almost every time he said something sincere to his lover and Ty tried to decide if he should respond with a joke or with something more genuine. Zane never knew what kind of response he would get, and that was half the fun of it.
“I’m sure I’ll see it one day,” Ty said softly.
Zane closed his eyes. He almost wished Ty had made a joke of it this time. He missed him. There was no point in lingering over it, so he moved on.
“The real problems come when Mother shows up.”
“Why?”
“She’s barely been to the hospital.”
“Did your folks split up?”
“If they have, no one’s told me. They’re still both living in the same house, but it’s so big they wouldn’t cross paths if they didn’t want to.” Zane had always wondered how his dad lived with his mother every day, but to get through forty-five years of marriage, he obviously loved her on some level. “When she shows up, all she can do is tell me that none of this would have happened if I’d been here like a good son.”
“You know that’s bullshit, right?”
“Yeah, but . . . she’s my mom.” Zane dragged his hand through his damp hair. “You’d think she’d just be glad to see me, but no.”
“I’m sorry, Zane. I’m not really sure how to help. Other than to tell you to quit your bitching and go buy me a Stetson.”
Zane chuckled at Ty’s attempt to distract him from his troubles. As usual, it was working. “I don’t know. A Stetson’s a real personal thing to a man. You don’t just go around handing them out.” He shook his head and spoke more quietly. “I’m not sure there’s helping to be done. Just wish you were here.”
Ty was silent for a long while—another of those silences where he tried to decide which path to take—the sound of his breathing steady and comforting. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Well, you want me to tell you about my night? Any story that starts out with ‘There was this dude with a ferret in his beard’ is bound to make you feel better, right?”
“Tell me,” Zane said, smiling and relaxing back as Ty started talking. He was glad to listen to his lover ramble on in a voice as smooth as honey instead of dwelling over the trouble he was sure to find tomorrow when he started digging.
“Suspect is on foot, agents in pursuit,” the dispatcher said through Ty’s earpiece. “Suspect is armed and dangerous.”
Ty cut across three lanes of traffic, climbing over a Mini Cooper and then leaping over the head of a cyclist as he dove to grab for the suspect. He made contact but slid right off the man and landed hard, rolling across the sidewalk and slamming into the base of a hotdog cart. The contents tumbled and splattered all over him before he could scramble back to his feet.
He cursed and wiped relish off his arm as he sat up. He supposed he was fortunate the boiling water hadn’t fallen on him, but that stroke of luck didn’t make up for the fact that this was ruining what had been a nice Sunday afternoon with friends.