“That seems unreasonable,” Ty muttered disconsolately. “Look, youve got to be stretched to the limit on this.” “We are.”
“All the more reason to let me do something.”
“The last time you worked a bomb, you ended up blowing something kind of important up. And the last bank robbery you worked, you didnt have any gray hair,” McCoy told him.
Ty frowned and looked up as if he could see his own hair. “I have gray hair?”
McCoy laughed at him. Ty growled in frustration and looked away. Either this was a friend being blunt, or it was his superior being evasive. Either way, he wasnt going to get any information. He sighed. “Fine,” he agreed grudgingly. Hed find another way to get some information. Instead he moved on to the other reason hed come in. “I need to find a rookie that was at the second scene. He drove me to the hospital, then ran off with Garretts keys.”
McCoy frowned. “What rookie?” “He looked about fifteen. I cant remember his name,” Ty admitted as he closed his eyes and tried to visualize the name on the windbreaker the kid had been wearing. “Reece, maybe? Reeves?” he tried.
“Reeves?” Alston asked from behind him. “Sounds right,” Ty told him with a shrug as he turned to look back at him. Apparently he and the others had followed Ty to McCoys office to watch any fireworks that ensued.
“Ty,” Alston said with a frown. “Special Agent Lydia Reeves was inside the building when the bomb went off. She was carried out right before Garrett, hurt pretty bad. Shes still in the ICU at UMMC.”
Ty stared at him, not quite comprehending what hed said at first. Then the implications came tumbling down on him so hard he almost physically staggered.
“Theyd have a spotter,” he said softly. “Theyd set the bomb and find some way to watch the response.” “Bomber picked up her windbreaker to get closer?” Alston ventured with a frown. “Wait, did you say he kept Garretts keys? Where is Garrett now?”
Ty was already pushing past him and sprinting for the stairwell. “Behind you!” Alston shouted, and Ty knew the man was calling in backup to meet them at Zanes apartment. He took out his own phone and hit the speed dial as he raced down the stairs for the parking deck and the hated Valkyrie.
The phone rang and rang with no answer, and Zanes voice mail picked up, his recorded voice serious and to the point before the beep. Ty cursed as the beep sounded and snapped the phone shut. It wasnt like someone would have to attack Zane to hurt him. All theyd have to do was knock on the door, quietly place a bomb in the house, since Zane couldnt see it to know it was there, and the job was done. A neighbor with chicken soup. A deliveryman with flowers. Zane would never be the wiser.
Ty shoved through the stairwell door and darted across the parking deck. He knew he should wait for Alston and a car and backup, but he also knew deep down he could get there a hell of a lot faster on the stupid freaking motorcycle.
Z ANE leaned forward against the wall, weight on his forearms and head down as the hot water pounded down on his neck and shoulders, splattering down over his back. He tipped his head from side to side, sighing as he felt the muscles relaxing. Hed gotten rid of the scent of orange juice and the sticky pulp residue, but he was nowhere near brainstorming through all the possible fallout scenarios of telling Ty that Ryan had brought him that care package.
Stewing over it wasnt helping his headache; it was a bad one today. The doctor had said hed have them. Zane just hadnt expected them to get worse. He groaned and turned around so the water streamed down his back.
Then there was a sound under the noise of the water running, something slamming in the outer room. Zanes head snapped up. It hadnt been two hours for it to be Ty. Maybe one, but certainly not two. He frowned and cocked his head to listen. Another sound followed the first, a door being kicked open and banging against a wall.
Zanes hand curled into a fist. Here he was, wet, naked, unarmed, blind… and he could be in real trouble. His knives and gun were on the dresser in the bedroom. He couldnt do anything but wait.
He didnt have to wait long. After another tense moment, the door to the bathroom burst open, banging against the sink as someone took two heavy steps into the room.
“Zane?” Ty called out over the rush of the water.
Zane let out a shaky breath, and his shoulders thumped back against the tile wall. “Yeah?”
Ty cursed softly as another voice from somewhere in the apartment called out, “Clear!” followed by a reply of the same. “What?” Zane asked, confused. “What the hells going on?” “Why the f**k arent you answering your phone?” Ty demanded. The shower curtain was noisily yanked back, and cold air assaulted him.
“Im in the f**king shower,” Zane snapped. “Whats going on?” Ty reached past him and turned off the water. Once it stopped running, Zane could hear the sound of several more people milling about outside the bathroom. “Get dressed,” Ty muttered, sounding angry and stressed and not the least bit apologetic.
Then he was gone, and the bathroom door clicked shut. Zane growled as he carefully got out of the shower and set one hand on the counter. He didnt have any clothes in here. With an aggravated huff, he grabbed one of the extra-large bath sheets and wrapped it around his waist, tucking in the end. “Hed better have a good reason for this,” Zane said under his breath as he slicked one hand through his wet hair, leaving it to drip onto his shoulders, and he opened the door.
He could hear voices in the kitchen and living room. A lot of voices. At least four, not including Tys. “Jesus Christ, Grady, whered you learn to ride a motorcycle like that?” a male voice was saying breathlessly as Zane made his way down the hallway.
“West Virginia,” Ty muttered in response. “I didnt think they had sidewalks in West Virginia.” Zane recognized Alstons voice now, tinged with amusement. “You sure as hell were riding on one.”
Zane stopped in the doorway to the living room, one hand holding onto the towel, and immediately shuddered. Two open doors made for a frigid February crosswind through his apartment. “And again I say, what the hell is going on?”
Ty cleared his throat somewhere to Zanes right, in the kitchen. “Remember the kid who has your keys?” he asked Zane.
Zane turned his head blindly toward Ty. “Yeah?” he ventured. “Turns out he aint a Fed,” Ty muttered. “Freddy, call a locksmith, will you?” he added as he turned away from Zane and spoke to someone else in the room. Zane recognized Perrimores bass tones making the phone call as directed.