He hissed angrily as he poured peroxide liberally over the gunshot wound, covered it messily with antibiotic cream, ignoring that it was still gaping and bleeding, and wrapped it up. He walked toward the kitchen, still muttering angrily as he slid a cigarette between his lips.
Walking by the answering machine, he turned up his nose at the blinking red light and lit up. The only person who called him here was the Bureau contact, and he definitely didn’t want to talk to her. Cursing under his breath, he hit the button and pulled out his guns, checking them as he disarmed.
“Special Agent Garrett, this is Assistant Director Richard Burns.”
Zane’s head shot around so he could stare at the machine. “Don’t you dare ignore me. Call me. It doesn’t matter what time.” He left an unfamiliar return number and hung up.
Hitting the erase button, Zane frowned and tapped the ashes from his cigarette. It was odd to hear English not made rapid-fire by an accent.
“What’s he want?” he murmured to himself, the Spanish flowing easily. He tapped his fingers on the phone for a long moment before picking up and dialing the number he had easily memorized.
Two minutes later, he was connected to Burns, presumably at home, since it was the middle of the night.
“Special Agent Garrett. Thank you for returning my call so promptly,” Burns said by way of greeting, no hint of censure or sleep in his voice.
Zane walked with the handset over to the couch and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. “What do you want, Burns?” Zane muttered in his well-practiced accented English, setting his cigarette in an overfull ashtray. He poured a handful of pills into his hand and popped three into his mouth, sitting on the edge of the couch and holding his arm out to look at it.
“Ever the conversationalist. Nice accent, by the way. Have you been following the Tri-State murders?”
Zane’s jaw set. “No,” he said shortly.
“Good. Get to DC. I want you here by three-thirty tomorrow.”
“DC?” Zane objected. “I’m in the middle of all kinds of shit here, Burns. I can’t just drop it!”
“You will turn over all information and material to Special Agent Black, who is waiting quite patiently right outside your door. Be here, and don’t be late.”
Burns hung up, leaving Zane staring at the handset. After a long moment, he hurled it at the wall, foreign expletives flowing off his tongue as it shattered.
TY didn’t sleep at night. He never had, even as a child. While the military had forced him to change that, the subsequent years of working undercover mostly at night had hardwired his body once more to sleep during the day and prowl restlessly during the late hours when he had nothing else to keep him busy. And so, when his phone rang at roughly two in the afternoon, it sent Ty straight up and into a full-out panic before he was able to track down the vibrating cell phone and growl at it.
“What?” he answered in a huff, rubbing sleepy eyes and shaking his head to wake himself fully.
“Special Agent Grady,” a familiar voice greeted warmly.
“Dick?” Ty responded in shock. “I didn’t do it,” he said immediately.
“Whatever it was, I didn’t do it. I’m on vacation,” he insisted defensively.
There was a chuckle in response. “I know you’re on vacation, Ty.
That’s why I’m calling. How do you feel?”
“Uhh….”
“I need you to cut it short,” Burns told him solemnly. “Have you been following the Tri-State murders?”
“No,” Ty answered immediately.
“Good. Get in here. One hour.”
“What?”
“And don’t come in smelling like beer and cheap cigars!” Burns chastised before hanging up.
ZANE let the bike coast as he pulled up at the gate to the Bureau parking lot.
He showed his badge and was waved through, although he got a couple of odd looks. He hadn’t bothered to dress up, just bringing the basics in the saddlebags on his bike. And the leather, of course, since he was riding. His favorite jacket had that gash in the arm from last night, but he wouldn’t give it up. He parked the bike in the garage and pulled his leg over, boot hitting the pavement with a clunk. He pulled off the helmet and ran a hand through his overgrown hair. He left the helmet on the bike and stalked toward the building.
The receptionist blinked at him as he entered the Assistant Director’s office. “They’re … waiting for you,” she stuttered at him.
Zane offered her a rakish grin before reaching for the knob to open the door.
“And I can assure you the cigars are not cheap,” a voice was saying conversationally on the other side of the door. “The beer is,” the man added,
“but never the cigars.”
“I don’t need to know about those cigars,” Burns responded in a tired voice.
Zane stopped just inside, having caught words in a voice he knew he’d never forget. Instead of focusing on Burns, who looked up at him, Zane focused on the back of the man who sat across from the Assistant Director.
“Garrett. Nice of you to join us. Over half an hour late,” Burns greeted, but he didn’t sound too perturbed.
Ty stiffened in the chair and went still. Slowly, he turned his head to look back at Zane, and the stunned reaction was too instantaneous to conceal.
Zane swallowed hard, looking over Ty’s face. He looked … good.
Really good. Finally, he found the nerve to speak. “Hello, Grady.” The words came out still tinged by an accent.
“Garrett,” Ty greeted in shock as he stood uncertainly. He turned to Burns and asked, “What is this?”
Zane tore his eyes away from Ty and looked to Burns.
“Despite how your last collaboration ended, we need you two in New York again,” Burns answered. His smile faded. “The killer went quiet, without showing so much as a shadow, for about three months after you two were removed from the case. As if he … missed you,” he told them with an odd uncertainty. “Until two weeks ago. Since then there has been one more murder, and two days ago, the two agents we had on the case were seriously injured in a gas line explosion.”
“You’re putting us back on the Tri-State case?” Ty blurted in shock.
“Together?”
The Assistant Director nodded. “In a way,” he answered vaguely.
“You two are the only ones left who’ve worked the case at all and are around to tell about it. The others might not make it.” He sighed. “And I know it’s important to you both. For many reasons,” he added quietly with a glance at Ty.