wanted to call home. The thought made him both ecstatic and melancholy.
He pulled up Ty’s number and hit the button. When Ty answered, it sounded almost like a pair of plastic Solo cups cartwheeling down stairs. A moment of background noise later, Ty answered with a breathless, “This is Special Agent Grady, hang up and call 911 if this is an emergency.”
Zane chuckled. Apparently, Ty hadn’t even been able to look at the display to see Zane’s name.
There were a few banging sounds and another tumble of plastic, then a muttered oath from Ty. Again, he spoke into the phone. “One second.”
In the background was a piercing shriek, then a round of raucous laughter, and another woman’s scream to top it all off. Ty, sounding far away, like he was holding the phone near his hip, shouted, “Just let me shoot it!”
A rustle, and then Ty was the one screaming. Zane remembered the last time he’d heard that sound coming from Ty.
“It can’t be a mouse in the house with Smith and Wesson on duty,” he said, although he knew Ty wasn’t listening.
He dismissed the idea that Ty was at home after being treated to several people screaming, cursing, and banging. Some voices were overcome with laughter, some screaming bloody murder.
“Who the hell brings a ferret into a bar?” Ty shouted, and someone shouted back that all the shouting was scaring the ferret.
Zane frowned as he listened to the chaotic scene for another minute before most of the activity ceased.
When Ty returned to the phone, he was out of breath and sounding quite contrite. “This is Agent Grady.”
“Hey, doll,” Zane said, lips curving into a smile just at hearing Ty’s voice.
“Zane? Thank God. I knew I was going to get written up for that.”
Zane laughed. “Having a rough night?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“A ferret, huh? Well, I was close.”
“Not as close as I was. How’s your dad?”
Zane sighed. “He’s all right. They’ve got him in a regular room now. Talking about sending him home in a few days.”
“That’s good. How are you?”
Zane considered how to answer that, though the pause told more of the truth than any words he could speak. “More tired than I should be.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do,” Ty said in the whispered, intimate tone Zane had been so desperate to hear.
“Got a few minutes to talk to me?”
“Yeah, give me one second.” Ty said good-bye to whoever else had been involved in the business with the ferret, and a moment later Zane could hear traffic and a breeze brushing over the speaker of Ty’s phone. He’d obviously been at a bar, been assaulted by a ferret, and was now walking home. It was a typical night for Ty. “I’m all yours.”
Zane hummed. “That’s nice to hear.” He rubbed one hand over his face. “Listen, the situation down here appears to be a little more . . . complex than I first thought.”
“How so?”
“They’re saying that Dad getting shot was a byproduct of trespassers, but I’m not buying it. Something feels . . . weird.”
“Like, ‘our job’ weird, or ‘you’re in Texas’ weird?”
“Both?”
“Tell me.”
“Dad says he was out riding on the far end of the property and came across trespassers near the old pump house. They took a few potshots and got lucky as they drove off.”
“Jesus.”
“The thing is, there’s nothing near that old pump house. No reason for anyone to be there. I can’t figure it out.”
“So, what, you’re calling in Jim Bowie and Sam Houston to clear shit up?”
Zane laughed despite the gravity of the situation. “I’m going to make some calls, yes, but I spoke with the sheriff this afternoon. He told me this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Dad’s reported it before.”
“Kind of far from the border for the usual stuff, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t make it this far. Could be drugs, could be sex trade, could be horses.”
“If the next
He pulled up Ty’s number and hit the button. When Ty answered, it sounded almost like a pair of plastic Solo cups cartwheeling down stairs. A moment of background noise later, Ty answered with a breathless, “This is Special Agent Grady, hang up and call 911 if this is an emergency.”
Zane chuckled. Apparently, Ty hadn’t even been able to look at the display to see Zane’s name.
There were a few banging sounds and another tumble of plastic, then a muttered oath from Ty. Again, he spoke into the phone. “One second.”
In the background was a piercing shriek, then a round of raucous laughter, and another woman’s scream to top it all off. Ty, sounding far away, like he was holding the phone near his hip, shouted, “Just let me shoot it!”
A rustle, and then Ty was the one screaming. Zane remembered the last time he’d heard that sound coming from Ty.
“It can’t be a mouse in the house with Smith and Wesson on duty,” he said, although he knew Ty wasn’t listening.
He dismissed the idea that Ty was at home after being treated to several people screaming, cursing, and banging. Some voices were overcome with laughter, some screaming bloody murder.
“Who the hell brings a ferret into a bar?” Ty shouted, and someone shouted back that all the shouting was scaring the ferret.
Zane frowned as he listened to the chaotic scene for another minute before most of the activity ceased.
When Ty returned to the phone, he was out of breath and sounding quite contrite. “This is Agent Grady.”
“Hey, doll,” Zane said, lips curving into a smile just at hearing Ty’s voice.
“Zane? Thank God. I knew I was going to get written up for that.”
Zane laughed. “Having a rough night?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“A ferret, huh? Well, I was close.”
“Not as close as I was. How’s your dad?”
Zane sighed. “He’s all right. They’ve got him in a regular room now. Talking about sending him home in a few days.”
“That’s good. How are you?”
Zane considered how to answer that, though the pause told more of the truth than any words he could speak. “More tired than I should be.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do,” Ty said in the whispered, intimate tone Zane had been so desperate to hear.
“Got a few minutes to talk to me?”
“Yeah, give me one second.” Ty said good-bye to whoever else had been involved in the business with the ferret, and a moment later Zane could hear traffic and a breeze brushing over the speaker of Ty’s phone. He’d obviously been at a bar, been assaulted by a ferret, and was now walking home. It was a typical night for Ty. “I’m all yours.”
Zane hummed. “That’s nice to hear.” He rubbed one hand over his face. “Listen, the situation down here appears to be a little more . . . complex than I first thought.”
“How so?”
“They’re saying that Dad getting shot was a byproduct of trespassers, but I’m not buying it. Something feels . . . weird.”
“Like, ‘our job’ weird, or ‘you’re in Texas’ weird?”
“Both?”
“Tell me.”
“Dad says he was out riding on the far end of the property and came across trespassers near the old pump house. They took a few potshots and got lucky as they drove off.”
“Jesus.”
“The thing is, there’s nothing near that old pump house. No reason for anyone to be there. I can’t figure it out.”
“So, what, you’re calling in Jim Bowie and Sam Houston to clear shit up?”
Zane laughed despite the gravity of the situation. “I’m going to make some calls, yes, but I spoke with the sheriff this afternoon. He told me this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Dad’s reported it before.”
“Kind of far from the border for the usual stuff, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t make it this far. Could be drugs, could be sex trade, could be horses.”
“If the next
Similar Books
