Armed & Dangerous (Cut & Run 5) - Page 44/90

“Why?”

“The engine is fine. The car won’t start. I believe Cross sabotaged it. They left the keys in it, and there are signs of a struggle on the side of the road. Another car was here, possibly a truck or SUV. I believe they stole the car and switched over.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, sir. They took their toll ticket. They have to have it to get off the highway. As soon as it comes up, we’ll know what exit they’ve taken and we’ll go from there.”

“Very good. Keep me apprised. We have to get Cross before they deliver him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter 10

TWENTY minutes after Ty had dropped them off and told them he was going to stash the stolen car, Ty still wasn’t back. How long did it take to dump a broken-down Bronco in rural Macedonia, Ohio? Zane sighed and looked at Cameron, who was sitting uneasily on the other bed, looking toward the bathroom where Ty had left Julian cuffed to the plumbing again.

“Go on,” Zane said gruffly, waving a hand toward the bathroom.

Cameron blinked at him and then smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” he said, and he hurried to join Julian.

“Leave the door open,” Zane said as Cameron disappeared inside. “Just remember I can shoot him before he can get to the door.”

Zane took off his jacket and slung it into the sink of the tiny kitchenette before thumping down on the end of the bed. He was tired. This trip was testing his patience. And what the hell was taking Ty so goddamn long?

It was another ten minutes, maybe more, before there was a scratch at the door and Zane heard the key card swipe. Ty pushed into the room, face flushed from the cold, flecks of snow melting on his shoulders. He was carrying a small paper bag.

He looked around the room as he stepped in. “Where are they?”

Zane gritted his teeth and swallowed the sharp remark that was his gut response. “In the bathroom,” he said instead.

Ty nodded curtly. “That won’t hold him all night,” he said, not even bothering to try explaining why walking a mile or two in the snow had taken him nearly an hour to manage. Zane played the whole prospective explanation and resulting argument through in his head and decided to just not go there. Ty had done a lot of walking in the snow tonight.

“Our options are rather limited.”

“What have you come up with?” Ty asked. He shrugged out of his coat, then tossed it onto the tiny table between the television and the kitchenette.

“I thought about cuffing him to the underpinning of the bed, but it’s junk. He’d probably break it,” Zane answered.

Ty stared at him, waiting for him to continue, and Zane resisted the urge to snap at him. Tempers were getting shorter, and it didn’t help that they couldn’t touch or even speak openly to each other in front of their prisoners. Zane reminded himself to stay calm. “We could attach him to the refrigerator. Even if he did get out, he wouldn’t be going anywhere fast.”

Ty was nodding slowly as Zane spoke. “How?” he asked in a flat voice.

Zane shrugged, mind churning. “Use his belt and the chill grate? Fasten it behind his back.”

“And essentially give him a nice sharp metal weapon when he gets lose,” Ty said, sounding disgusted. He picked up the bag he’d been carrying and opened it up to extract a gas station box of Benadryl. He held it up, looking at Zane grimly. “How many of these things would it take to put you down?”

Zane looked at the package, then up at Ty, and it was all too clear how far Ty had been pushed: too far. “Absolutely not. You’re not drugging him.”

“And he’s not smothering one of us in our sleep,” Ty said, voice sharp and serious. “I don’t know about you, Zane, but I’m tired. I’m too f**king tired, and I’m afraid I’m going to fall asleep tonight, let down my guard, and not wake up.”

“That’s not going to happen. If you need to sleep, sleep. I can stay awake.”

“No, you can’t. You are just as exhausted as I am!” Ty tossed the box of Benadryl onto the table and pulled his gun out of its holster to check the clip.

Zane took in a deep breath through his nose, hanging on to his patience with everything he had. “You do need sleep, because you’d never try this in your right mind. Knock him out, tie him up, hell, strip him nude, but you’re not drugging him.” What if Cross had some crazy reaction to the drugs like Ty often did, and died? Burns would forgive them some surface damage to the asset, but dead wouldn’t go over well at all.

Ty rammed the clip home, the noise unmistakable in the otherwise quiet hotel room. “You’re right. Plan B then,” he said in a deceptively calm voice. He pushed away from the table and headed for the bathroom, gun still in his hand.

Zane wasn’t sure what was worse. He was certain—all right, almost certain—Ty wouldn’t just shoot Julian. Well, kind of certain. Maybe. “Grady… what are you going to do?” he called, hearing the dread in his own voice.

Ty didn’t answer him. Zane heard him push the door open and bark at Cameron to get out. Zane rubbed a hand over his eyes and waited, using the time to list possible worst-case scenarios, the fallout, how much paperwork would be involved, and if any said scenarios would afford him and Ty some peace and quiet sooner rather than later. Now that he thought about it, drugging Cross just a little might not be such a bad idea.

Zane rolled his eyes. He was sleep-deprived; just the fact that he had that thought was proof.

Ty grabbed Cameron by the arm and shoved him out into the suite. Zane watched the man stumble into the table, knocking over the box of Benadryl.

“What’s going on?” Cameron asked, rubbing his hip.

Zane just shook his head. “Better stay out of the way,” he said, jerking a thumb back toward the bed. Cameron nodded, keeping his eyes on the bathroom door.

A moment later Ty dragged Julian out of the bathroom, quite the noisy affair since Julian was threatening Ty with all matter of bodily harm if he touched Cameron again. Zane was pretty sure the only reason Julian didn’t fight back was the gun in Ty’s hand. Cameron had to hop out of the way as Ty propelled Julian forward and slammed him into the table, shoving at him from behind and pressing his face and chest to the tabletop.

Ty had done that to Zane a few times. Only he’d never pressed a gun barrel to the base of Zane’s skull like he did to Julian’s right now. It occurred to Zane that he should probably rein Ty in any time now. He was supposed to be the rules lawyer of the two of them, the one who kept his partner from blithely charging into serious trouble.