McCoy nodded and pushed the file around. “Got her with a sniper rifle. It was an impressive shot, disarmed her but didnt kill her. Still, hes not really okay with shooting a kid, from what my agents are telling me. Anyway, thats not why I brought you in here.” He turned the file around on his desk. The pages were covered with thick black ink, lines and lines of redacted information.
“Her?” Zane was now frowning deeply. “A kid?” He glanced down at the file, then back up at McCoy. McCoy looked at him with some surprise. “You havent heard any of it? She was seventeen. All weve gotten from her is the ringleader isnt much older than she is and she doesnt know why hes so intent on killing so many people, but he is and she was scared of him. She also hinted to us as she was being wheeled away that he might have it out for you and Ty because youve become the figureheads of the pursuit, so to speak. Im surprised Grady didnt tell you all this. As soon as he figured it out, he went tearing off to find you, make sure you werent a collateral target during all the chaos.”
Zane looked away, toward McCoys window. To McCoys eyes, he looked uncomfortable, which was unusual for the ultra-controlled Zane Garrett. But hed had a shitty week too. Going blind would throw anyones emotional equanimity.
“We didnt talk long,” Zane finally said. “He had things to do, and I had to go back to UMMC.”
McCoy nodded, satisfied with the answer. Who the hell knew what Ty was ever thinking, anyway? He tapped his finger on the blacked-out file. “Im trying to see if anything in Gradys file might connect him to this kid, but as you can see, his file is mostly crap. I wanted to ask you if you knew anything that might be relevant.”
Zane looked back to the mostly blacked-out paperwork, then up to McCoy. “If thats Gradys file, I dont know that Ill be much more help.”
McCoys brow knitted. “Youve never seen his file?” Zane shook his head just slightly, winced, and stopped the movement with a touch to his temple. “No.” “Huh. Well, you should take it and read up, Garrett. Gradys got to be a damn minefield to walk through without an inkling of whats back there,” McCoy grunted as he closed the file and handed it to Zane. “Nothing in theres going to help this investigation.”
Zane looked at the file in his hand like he wasnt sure what to do with it, then dropped it lightly on the edge of McCoys desk. “So there are more of them out there, and they know us. Me and Grady. Possibly where we live. And theyre likely out to get us specifically,” he summed up, face grim.
“Id wager if they werent before, they are now,” McCoy told him bluntly. Zane tipped his head to one side, eyes going unfocused as he thought hard about something. McCoy had seen the man pull together details from disparate case files to create legitimate leads in critical investigations; he wondered just what Zane was chewing on now.
“Wheres Grady?” Zane ask abruptly. McCoy couldnt hide his surprise and confusion. “I dont know. At home, probably. We have someone going around every few hours to keep an eye on him. The last team we tried to sit on him, he actually threatened to shoot them.”
“He would,” Zane muttered. He stood up. “I need to get up to speed on the contingencies, but I wont last long,” he said, waving a hand at his head. “Killer headache.”
McCoy nodded, watching Zane curiously. “Dont push yourself. Go on home. Ill have someone come around to check up on you too.” Zane hesitated, apparently choosing his words before saying, “Im going to stop by and see Ty. Weve both had the week from hell.” “Might be a good idea. Maybe you can ease his mind some. It was a clean shot. No one knew she was a kid.” “He did what he had to. What was right,” Zane said quietly. “Doesnt mean it doesnt hurt.” With that he left the room and, McCoy noticed belatedly, Tys personnel file.
McCoy grunted as he frowned at the folder. In his opinion, Ty had more on his conscience than the shot hed taken four days ago. A lot more.
He reached for the file and stowed it in the bottom drawer of his desk, locking it away.
Chapter Thirteen
A S HE stood outside the row house door, Zane realized how nervous he was. Not scared, not angry. Nervous. He hadnt seen or heard from Ty since the day Ty had decked him. Four long, lonely, and miserable days that had driven home to Zane just how very important Ty was to him. Every night, lying alone in a cold bed with a lamp on so he wouldnt be in the dark, Zane had struggled to accept that however unintentionally, hed scared Ty badly and needed to apologize. Hed wrangled even more with the possibility that Ty wouldnt give him the chance, which had only fed Zanes irrational fear of losing him altogether.
Zane had seen Ty easily forgive and let something go—it was one of the most prominent aspects of Tys unusual personality. But Zane had never seen Ty angry enough to literally walk away. Even when Zane had been drunk on the cruise ship, Ty had dragged him to the pool to sober him up instead of telling him he was done. Then today, the news about Ty and the girl—it had almost knocked Zane over as he realized just what exactly Ty had been dealing with that day.
Zane would get down on his knees and beg to get back into Tys good graces, if that was what it took.
But first things first. He rapped hard on the door. It took a full minute before the lock on the door turned. When Ty swung the door open, he wore nothing but a towel, rivulets of water still running down his chest and arms.
“Garrett,” he said in surprise. At the sight of all that glorious skin, heat slashed through Zane so fast that he lost track of what he had carefully planned to say. Instead he reached out, grabbed Ty by the back of the neck, and yanked him a step closer so he could kiss him messily.
Ty flailed and struggled to keep his balance. Zane distantly realized that Ty had his gun in his hand. When Zane pulled back, he glanced at the weapon—pointed away, luckily—and then at Ty for a split second before doing what hed come to do in the first place.
He slugged Ty. Ty reeled back, too surprised by the double-edged assault to keep his feet. The gun went skittering across the hardwood, and Ty wound up flat on his back, the towel miraculously still wrapped around his hips.
Zane stood in the doorway, yanked his Wayfarers off, and took a couple of heartbeats to admire the sight. “Didnt see that coming, did you?” he asked as he set his hands on his hips.
Ty shook his head violently, as if trying to clear it, and he pushed up onto his elbows. “What the hell, Zane?” he said in a hoarse, angry voice. “Is there a car out there? People are watching me!”