Zane smiled. “Yes, ma’am. It was.”
Ty knew Zane would never admit how hard. Becky’s death had been the catalyst that threw Zane into both alcohol and drugs, problems he would struggle with for the rest of his life.
That, coupled with the fact that Becky’s memory was one of the most terrifying things Ty associated with Zane, made him shift uneasily on the floor. He would have liked to derail the conversation, but he couldn’t figure out how. Zane was able to talk about Becky more easily than he used to, though it was still rare, and he was definitely more comfortable with it than Ty was. For Ty, it hit on the one major insecurity he still carried with him: you couldn’t compete with a ghost any more than you could run away from one.
“Losing hits a man hard,” Chester said.
Ty closed his eyes and sighed. He was going to duct tape his grandfather’s mouth closed before this visit was over. He opened his eyes when he felt a soft touch on his shoulder: Zane’s fingers, resting there.
“Yes, it does,” Zane agreed, squeezing Ty’s shoulder once before pulling away. “Ty saved me.”
Ty stared at him, his heart racing.
He finally had to force himself to look away. He met his father’s eyes. Earl gave an apologetic tip of his chin.
Zane’s knee rapped against Ty’s shoulder. When Ty looked up at Zane, Zane’s eyes were focused on him. He rested his cast on Zane’s leg and leaned against the couch, trying to come to terms with the fact that they no longer had to hide from his family. It was freeing, but it also felt like another shoe was preparing to drop somewhere.
“Well, I just have to say it, and I know it’ll embarrass you,” Mara announced, “but you two are adorable together.”
Ty heard a choked laugh from behind him as he blinked at his mother. True to form, he felt himself blushing.
Earl was smiling as he leaned back on the loveseat.
“That’s a word I would never have chosen to describe Ty,” Zane said, practically snickering.
“Well, you didn’t raise him. He was cute once. One day I’ll show you the picture books.”
“Ma, please,” Ty begged, beginning to laugh as Deuce cackled from his spot on the other end of the couch. Ty glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. “How’s Livi and the baby?”
“Oh, nicely played.”
Ty shrugged.
“Livi is as happy as she can be when she’s not puking her brains out. Her dad hates me, but her mom keeps sending us baby boutique catalogues.”
“Have you found out if it’s a boy or girl yet?” Mara asked.
Deuce shook his head.
“Are you going to?”
“Livi wants to know so we can decorate. She wants to continue the tradition of the names, though. She thinks it’s the greatest thing ever.”
“Really?” Ty blurted, and Deuce laughed and nodded.
“Is that just the boys?” Zane asked.
“Yeah, the first boys in the family get their maternal grandmother’s maiden names, the second get their paternal grandmother’s. Then it gets convoluted,” Deuce said with a smirk. “Dad’s first name is Antrim. Grandpa’s is actually Chester.”
“Fascinating,” Zane said.
“So, if you have a boy, what’s his name going to be?” Ty asked, trying to keep any opinion of the matter out of his voice.
“Rigsdale.”
“Oh God, Deacon,” Ty groaned before he could stop himself.
“I know. I’m praying for a girl.”
“Good luck with that,” Zane said half under his breath, then flinched and pulled his phone from his pocket to look at the display.
Ty cleared his throat. “Who wants some pie?” he asked as he pushed himself up off the floor.
“Yeah, me,” Zane answered as he stood and paced toward the front door, answering the call. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Ty glanced back at him as he made his way toward the kitchen. He assumed it was Zane’s sister; she was the only person Zane ever used that voice with. He slowed when Zane stopped mid-stride, hand out to open the door, shoulders snapping back. “What? Where is he?” Judging by his tone, something was very wrong. Zane listened silently, the frown on his face deepening. “And no one was with him?”
Ty watched him, pie and baby names and everything else forgotten.
“I’ll be on a plane as soon as I can. I’ll text you my flight information. Have Manuel pick me up at the airport.” Zane slid the phone back into his pocket. When he turned back to see all the Gradys watching him, he froze.
When he didn’t speak, Ty spread his hands out. “What happened?”
Zane looked at him and swallowed. “My dad’s been shot.”
“Oh my gracious,” Mara exclaimed.
“You’re going down there?”
Zane nodded.
“I’m going with you.”
“Ty.”
Earl was already heading for the kitchen. “I’ll call Jim, see if he can get one of his boys to meet you with a Sheriff’s car. Get you to the airport faster.”
Zane stared at Ty, dumbstruck and distressed. He no longer even tried to hide behind that mask he’d once used.
“I’m going with you.”
“How?” Zane asked, sounding defeated. “You can’t get off work without telling them why.”
Ty gritted his teeth, but Zane was right. He would never be given time off work for his partner’s family emergency, especially since he was already pretty far into his personal days.
Zane took a deep breath. Ty reached up to hug him, and Zane rested his forehead on Ty’s shoulder.
“It’ll be okay.”
Chapter 3
“What interest does the FBI have in this case?”
“None,” Zane answered. He was sitting in the double oven that served as the sheriff’s outpost for the area ranches, fighting the urge to yank his tie off and use it to wipe away the sweat running down the center of his back. The old A/C unit in the window of the trailer wasn’t doing anything to fend off the summer temperatures of Texas.
The sheriff cocked his head, and Zane leaned forward to speak in lower tones. “Harrison Garrett is my father. I’m not here in any official capacity; I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“You’re one of those Garretts?” the sheriff asked, and Zane could see the man’s defenses lowering.
“That’s right.”
Zane produced his identification again. The sheriff gave it another once over, taking his time with it. He nodded and held up a thin file, then set it in front of Zane. “That’s all I got to give you.”