Cut & Run (Cut & Run #1)(18)
Author: Abigail Roux

Zane knew they all made sense somehow. He just wasn’t seeing it yet.

The slow rapping on the door interrupted him and he glanced up, immediately on guard. In theory, he should be fine; if someone was there to kill him they likely wouldn’t knock. Still … he picked his gun up from the tabletop and held it slightly behind him as he walked to the door and checked the peephole.

Ty stood in the distorted little circle of Zane’s view with his head tilted back and his eyes closed, swaying slightly on his feet as he waited. Zane pulled his head back and blinked, then removed the chain and opened the door, shoving his gun into his waistband at the small of his back.

“I’m awake,” Ty muttered to him in greeting.

Zane tilted his head and pulled the door open further, amused by how out-of-it Ty looked. “You sure about that?”

“No,” Ty grumbled. “I didn’t sleep for shit. You?”

“Not really. Too much reading before bed. My head’s swimming.

You coming in? I’ve got coffee.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Ty grunted as he remained in the hallway.

“Any epiphanies?”

“Other than thinking this guy may be some kind of creative freak show genius? No.” Zane shook his head. “Give me a minute to get myself together.”

He turned and walked back into the room, stopping at the dresser to grab his wallet and push it into the back pocket of his jeans. They weren’t going with the usual suits and ties for this job in order to further the inept façade, so he wore just a thin cotton Henley and jeans. It brought back memories of his assignments before he’d been dumped in Cyber. He noticed with some amusement that Ty wore faded jeans that were losing the denim at their knees and a camouflage T-shirt that read, “You Can’t See Me and I’m Right in Front of You” in small yellow print. Over it he wore the green canvas jacket he had passed over the night before. Zane wondered if he coordinated his outfits to look like a slob or if he just really was one.

“I think until we figure out what the hell the connection is, we need to concentrate on the agents,” Ty was saying as he stepped into the room and let the door fall shut. He looked around at Zane’s piles of files with a sleepy frown and ran his hand through his short hair.

Zane lifted his shoulder holster from the bed and shook it out. “At least with them we can backtrack. According to the notes, the team was having trouble … building ….” His words trailed off as his eyes unfocused in thought.

“Huh?” Ty asked flatly, still too tired to be confused yet.

Zane just stood there for another long moment, then raised a hand to make a wait motion. He turned slowly in a circle, looking at the paperwork, trying to nudge what caught his attention. Then his eyes fell upon the timelines he had tacked up next to the photos.

“Backtracking. The team is having trouble figuring out where the victims were that night. That day. Even the day before,” Zane mumbled. Then he turned sharply on his heel and looked down at a particular stack of papers.

“You think he’s nabbing them and keeping them? There wasn’t much evidence of restraining or struggle,” Ty pointed out doubtfully.

Zane’s brow furrowed, and he pulled the straps of the holster through his fingers idly as he skimmed the reports. “No. But I think he’s watching them. Studying their patterns, then taking them when they’re detached from attention.”

“Makes sense,” Ty nodded as he watched Zane with one eyebrow cocked. “You’re not, like … going into a trance, are you?” he asked dubiously as he observed the distant look in Zane’s eyes.

Zane blinked out of it. “You try sifting through several thousand bits and pieces of data and see how aware you can be,” he said shortly.

Ty snorted in a derogatory manner and shook his head. “Whatever, man. I’m always aware,” Ty drawled through a yawn.

“I’m sure,” Zane muttered, pulling his gun out of his waistband, checking it and sliding it home. “We’re going out to the scene, right? Out on the street, too?”

“Which scene?” Ty asked as he leaned against the door.

“The last site. The one that’s still intact,” Zane answered as he moved his jacket to reach for two small black sheaths.

“Did you ever hear from whatshisface about whether they were ready?” Ty asked as he watched Zane with a small smirk. “Did the terrorists attack while I was asleep?” he asked sarcastically, nodding at the vast array of weaponry.

“Always be prepared, right?” Zane prodded as he pushed up his sleeves, slid on the sheaths, then covered them and pulled on his jacket, sparing a silent thank-you to God that it was October and he didn’t have to get creative to hide the armament. “Yes, Morrison set it up; we’ll head over after we meet Detectives Holleman and Pierce at two. So we have three hours, and I’m eating first. We’ll probably miss lunch. And Scott’s coming in to meet us at six.”

“Oh, goody,” Ty responded flatly, clapping his hands together in a mock display of excitement.

Zane picked up the keys and turned to face Ty, inclining his head. “Of course, if you have a hot date lined up, feel free. It’ll be dry, boring stuff, I’m sure.” He felt fairly sure his patronizing tone would get just as enthusiastic a response.

“I dislike that woman,” Ty returned easily. “A lot.”

“Why? She’s very good at her job.”

“She’s also a raging bitch,” Ty answered flatly.

Zane’s lips quirked. “Yeah, so?”

Ty merely shrugged negligently. “We have history. Why do you care?”

“If you’re not going to be able to work with her, then you need to skip the meeting,” Zane said. “No point in butting heads.” He paused. “Of course, you seem to enjoy that sort of thing ….”

“Go f**k yourself, man,” Ty huffed.

Zane actually let a smile escape, and the light brightened his dark eyes. He studied Ty for a few moments, undeniably amused. “Fair enough.”

He swung the keys on his fingers. “Is the feeling mutual?”

“God, I hope so,” Ty muttered.

Zane’s smile grew and he felt the urge to snicker. “Well,” he drew out, “maybe she’s utterly charmed by you—being that she’s a raging bitch, and all. Like drawn to like, you know?” he said as he walked to the door.