Cut & Run (Cut & Run #1)(59)
Author: Abigail Roux

hometown, school, even family,” Zane said distractedly, still looking through the file.

“Uh huh,” Ty responded as he unclipped his phone from his belt.

As Ty talked, Zane got deeper into the file and, squinting, got up to shift stacks of papers for other case files on the desk. Ty relayed what they had uncovered to Burns as soon as he was assured the line was secure. The man seemed dubious about the Baltimore connection at first, but it didn’t take long for Ty to convince him, Zane noted. As much of a f**kup as Ty seemed to have been in the Bureau, Burns had always trusted him and treated him almost like a son. Zane couldn’t help but wonder why.

Soon, Ty was off the phone and pacing again. Finally he stopped and glared at Zane. “I’m hungry.”

“Mm hmm,” Zane answered faintly, three case files laid out in front of him. Ty frowned and watched him.

“You find something?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” Zane said, drawing it out since he was still reading. “I didn’t.

No struggle.”

“What?” Ty asked in confusion.

“No struggle. No signs of struggle. Sometimes the victims were tied or wrapped up, but there were no bruises, no claw marks, no abrasions. No sign that they fought before they were murdered,” Zane said, frown deepening as he grabbed for another file. “That can’t be right.”

“How is that possible?” Ty asked softly. “He can’t have known all his victims. You think he’s using a badge to keep them cooperating?”

“Why couldn’t he have known them?” Zane asked calmly as he looked up.

“‘Cause it’d be sorta obvious to his other acquaintances that they were slowly dwindling in gruesome ways,” Ty snapped. “Unless they’re professional contacts,” he corrected slowly.

“Or a mix. Professional. Personal. Family. Past friends from school or college,” Zane proposed.

“You know how unlikely that is?” Ty asked dubiously, unconsciously taking on the same tone Burns had with him. “Besides, I don’t care how well I know someone, they start trying to chop me up I’m going to fight back,” he declared.

“It’s not probable. But it’s possible. New York is a hell of a big city.

You could have friends in all kinds of places and they’d never know each other,” Zane said, closing the files and stacking them together.

“Oh, f**k you and your logic, Garrett,” Ty sulked as he began to pace again.

“Give me geometry any day,” Zane muttered. “I hate algebra.”

Ty stopped. “We should check the victims for priors,” he stated. “If the killer’s a Fed, he might be finding his victims through his job.”

“We need their workups. Priors, work, church, family, school … any one of those could be a connection. Hell, moonlighting. Boyfriend. Knitting circle,” the other agent mumbled.

“We should also check witness files,” Ty murmured. “They may not have been perps if he was investigating. Could have been witnesses. But no one’s going to convince me that a badge could keep someone from fighting for their life.”

“Chloroform,” Zane said suddenly, pointing to the paper in front of him. “The ME notes traces of chloroform in some of the autopsies.”

“That’ll do it,” Ty conceded with a frown.

“Yeah,” Zane agreed, nodding. He jerked a little when there was a knock at the door.

“I got it,” Ty muttered as he stood and began to shuffle barefoot to the door. The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, and the feeling that something was amiss assaulted him like it sometimes had back when he was in the service. He slowed as he neared the door, evaluating the gut reaction to the knock and licking his lips as he hesitated. Finally, he stepped up to the peephole and peered through, his hand on the gun at the small of his back.

Zane stiffened as he saw Ty reach for his gun, and he picked up his own from the dresser right next to him. He watched carefully, staying just out of a direct line of sight from the door.

But Ty relaxed as he saw the hotel server outside with the food, and he wondered why he was so edgy. He opened the door and greeted the server without further alarm, and after the food had been placed and the server left, Ty looked at Zane and shrugged. “I’m a little tense,” he admitted abashedly. It wasn’t the first time he had said the words to Zane.

“More than a little.” Zane looked at him evenly. “Don’t ignore those instincts. Yours are sure to be better than mine.”

“Shut up,” Ty huffed immediately. He narrowed his eyes as he lifted the lid off his plate and he cut a glance at Zane and smiled. “Why do you think I’m sleeping in here with you?” he asked wryly. “’Cause I get skeered easily.”

“Thought it was for my scintillating conversation,” Zane said drolly.

“For your scintillating something, anyway,” Ty responded distractedly as he sat down and pulled his plate to him.

Zane chuckled and took up his plate, but not until he snitched a fry off Ty’s. He had mozzarella sticks instead of fries. He’d decided spur of the moment to pass on the onion rings. Just in case.

“Thief,” Ty murmured sulkily.

Zane winked and held out a mozzarella stick to placate him.

Ty glared at it stubbornly and then snatched it out of Zane’s hand.

“Have you noticed anyone tailing us?” he asked before biting off the tip of the mozzarella stick and yipping as the hot cheese hit his tongue.

“Sure; I just didn’t say anything because I’m an idiot,” Zane answered flippantly.

“Jesus, you didn’t tell me these damn things were nuclear,” Ty grunted as he pulled the cheese out of the breaded exterior and tried to no avail to shake it off his finger.

“I figured the fact they were still steaming might be a clue,” Zane drawled.

“Shut up,” Ty muttered as he shifted in his seat, unconsciously betraying a bit of lingering soreness.

Zane’s brow furrowed as he watched Ty move uncomfortably, and he blinked when he realized why. He was really hard-pressed not to grin, but his lips still twitched.

“Stop it,” Ty muttered at him as he tried to eat the cooling cheese off his finger.

Zane very carefully schooled his face, though his eyes were still bright and dancing. He got the better of Ty so rarely, he couldn’t let it go just yet. “Just let me know if you can’t handle hot and spicy,” he teased, taking another bite of the hot cheese stick. He was probably pushing his luck, but what the hell.