“You okay?” Ty asked, reading him well. Zane squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then blinked them open and started to nod, but he stopped and gave a half-shrug. “Im a little… overwhelmed,” he rasped.
Ty reached up and ran his fingers lightly over Zanes face, trailing them gently around his eyes. “Have you been sleeping?” he asked grimly, as if he already knew the answer.
Zane turned his cheek into Tys hand, seeking more contact. Ty knew him very well, better than Zane knew Ty by far. “Not really,” Zane admitted. “Too anxious to relax, I guess.”
“I figured,” Ty responded with a slow nod. He pushed himself up, pulling his arm out from under Zane, and he sat up. “Stay,” he told Zane as he got up and headed out of the bedroom.
Zane lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He could practically hear his heart beating, it was thumping so hard. He turned his face into the pillow and breathed in Tys familiar scent. Nerves still sparked through him, and he knew hed have to deal with the panic soon. The intense relief from the momentary reprieve was tinged with an odd disappointment, and he found he wanted to grasp at the moment and bring it back, do it differently.
Zane didnt open his eyes until a towel flopped onto his belly. “You have that look,” Ty observed as he stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at Zane in concern.
Zane fought the reflex urge to wipe his emotions off his face and offered a small smile. “Do I?” But Ty didnt return the smile. He sat down instead, then stretched out beside Zane on the bed. “You look like youre about to cut and run,” he observed in an almost offhand manner.
This time Zane did clamp down on his outward reaction. “Im the one who came here looking for you, remember?” It was nearly impossible to decipher what Ty was thinking as he took in Zanes features, and Zane felt a moments frustration that Ty could block him out so easily. Ty sat up suddenly, bending and stretching to the end of the bed where he always kept a spare quilt folded up. He shook it out and lay back with it, pulling it up over them as he turned toward Zane and rested his head on Zanes shoulder.
Unsure of what to do or say, Zane simply closed his arms around Ty. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the crown of his lovers head. Suddenly there were all sorts of words crowding on Zanes tongue, and he couldnt get a single one out, much less three that would prove he knew the best thing to happen to him in his entire life lay right there in his arms.
Chapter Fourteen
“THISis WBAL TV 11 News at 6, and Im Alicia Harrison. Good evening.” A mugshot of a rather attractive young blonde woman with a neat bob haircut appeared over the reporters shoulder. “Baltimore FBI Special Agent Lydia Reeves has died at age twenty-seven. Reeves was one of six law enforcement agents injured in the first shoppingcomplex bomb at the Inner Harbor just over a week ago. After eight days in a coma in the University of Maryland Medical Center ICU, she passed away last night as a result of her injuries. She is survived by her husband.”
The video cut to a shot of a somber-looking man in a brown suit. The titles labeled him as FBI Spokesman. “Agent Reeves was a fine example of the FBI and law enforcement,” the man said with a flash of bright white teeth. “Her service to the city is to be commended, and she will be greatly missed.”
The reporter reappeared. “Reeves is the third death in the as-ofyet unexplained string of bombings terrorizing Baltimore. Police now suspect that a recent, unsuccessful bank robbery may be related to the bombings.”
The shot changed to display the Baltimore police chief. “We are pursuing all leads, and the possibility of the perps using divide and conquer tactics wont be ruled out.”
“So the recent rash of bank robberies and the bombings might be connected?” the reporter asked. “Were not ruling anything out at this time,” the chief repeated with worn patience. “Contingency plans for emergency response remain in place.”
“What do you mean by divide and conquer tactics?”
“Its quite simple,” the police chief replied. “By dividing our response, theyre hoping to get away with their crimes.” The video returned to the studio shot. “Following this most recent tragedy, local, state, and federal officials announced that every available resource is being diverted to find the source of the bombs.”
The FBI spokesman appeared again. “Were doing everything we can to protect all the men, women, and children of Baltimore by stopping this threat. And we wont rest until we do. We owe that to Baltimore, and we owe that to Lydia Reeves.”
The final shot of the reporter displayed an American flag flying over her shoulder. “The funeral for fallen FBI agent Lydia Reeves is at noon tomorrow at Green Mount Cemetery. It will be closed to the public.”
W ITH a soft grunt of frustration, Zane undid the tie he was trying to knot for the third time and started over. Hed been a little off all morning, but he wasnt surprised he was shaky, shaky enough that hed simply trimmed up his beard and mustache instead of getting rid of it altogether. Funerals did that to people, even when you werent close to the deceased. In his case, it resurrected memories he wished would stay buried, memories of another womans funeral in the unseasonably cold and wet Texas fall. The fact this morning had dawned cool and gloomy, with the potential bite of sleet or snow in the air, definitely didnt help. Lydia Reeves funeral was in two hours, and it would be a long, uncomfortable, emotional day.
Zane gave up on the tie when he heard a steady knock and walked out of the small bathroom and through the living room. He picked up his Glock from the bookshelf before opening the door. They still didnt know how the note writer had found him.
A Marine stood on the stoop. A white cover with a black brim bearing the golden eagle, globe, and anchor shadowed his eyes. Brightred piping on the high-necked midnight-blue blouse stood out against clean-shaven skin, and round gold buttons ran down the front seam. A stack of ribbons hung over his heart, and a red patch on each of his arms displayed three gold chevrons and one rocker above two hash marks. He wore pristine white gloves that disappeared into the long jacket sleeves. The jacket extended to hip length, close-fitted and cinched by a spotless white belt with a gold buckle bearing the branch insignia. The trousers brighter blue, a royal blue, contrasted with a long scarlet stripe down the outside of his legs, and his black shoes showed a high shine.
Zane stared for all he was worth. Ty Grady in dress blues was a glorious sight to behold.
“Damn,” Zane said in sincere appreciation. Ty cocked his head, the barest smirk twitching his lips. “Morning,” he offered, his eyes taking in the mangled knot of Zanes tie.