Details. Puzzles. It surprised people that Zane had a brain to go with his brawn, and he’d used it to his benefit many times.
Way back when, the Bureau assigned him to the Criminal Investigation Division of the Criminal Investigations Branch, working on financial crime. As he got more cases under his belt, he shifted to organized crime and informant matters, which put him into a brief stint in undercover work. Several personal and professional swerves and wild dives later, he was moved out of the CID and into the Cyber Division, digging up and dusting off those old pattern and detail skills to reestablish himself and hopefully polish his very tarnished reputation. He tried not to think about that tarnish often.
He was starting to suspect Ty Grady possessed a completely different set of specializations, and Zane was absolutely sure that they wouldn’t mesh with his own. Looking over his new partner, Zane decided immediately that Ty obviously wouldn’t have any trouble with the physical side of the job. He was an inch or two shorter than Zane, but his muscle weight probably equaled Zane’s own. He was physically impressive, no doubt, and together they were clearly intimidating as they walked through the terminal.
It was the mental aspects of Ty’s abilities that Zane pondered almost gleefully as they moved. Zane wondered if Ty would even be able to handle any of it, or if that was why Zane had been partnered with the guy; to be the brains of the operation, so to speak.
“Listen up, ’cause I'm only gonna say this once,” Ty muttered as they walked to their gate. “I don’t talk when I fly. I sleep. And I don’t listen when I eat, understand? I don’t wanna be buddies. I don’t wanna chat,” he said with a sarcastic lilt to the word. “I don’t wanna know about your childhood or how your momma whipped you with a rubber glove or how much therapy you had to go through ’cause you flunked out of preschool. I don’t wanna hear about how you want to be Director someday or how many collars you got chasin’
those Internet freaks or how proud you are of your bowel movements. I don’t wanna go shopping at Barney’s with you, and I’m not gonna help you pick out your ties to match your socks and, I swear to God, if you get me shot, I’ll kill you.”
As he followed the other agent onto the plane and found his seat, stoic demeanor in place, Zane couldn’t decide whether to be offended, upset, or just sad. Punching his new partner would likely not be condoned, and he wasn’t sure Grady wouldn’t give as good as he got just to cause a scene. But what a miserable life the man must have. Well, he wasn’t the only one who had had it hard. Zane tried hard to sublimate the anger that line of thought caused, but so far, Ty just made him want to reach out and throttle the shit out of him.
Wouldn’t the Bureau just love that?
He decided it was best—for all parties involved—to ignore the man beside him. He went ahead and pulled out the comparative chart he’d made of the coroner’s information with notes all over it in his tiny, crablike handwriting. At least some of the time could be well-spent.
Ty sighed heavily as he flopped into his seat and shook his head as he dug out the seat belt. His brand new partner had failed the first test. Anyone who would quietly take the vitriol he had just spewed without so much as a
“fuck you” in return was nothing but a brown-nosing ladder-climber who should have been riding a desk or working in the civilian market. At least his last partner had given as good as he got, he thought with a wince.
Zane heard the annoyed exhalation and ignored it. He gritted his teeth and wished there was some way to get out of this assignment. It was going to 14
be an utter debacle, and he likely wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. He wondered what ninth level of clerking hell he would be demoted to if this went wrong, or what type of civilian job he could get after he was kicked out of the Bureau. That upset him more than anything, thinking of all the years going to waste.
The flight was only about an hour long, and Ty planned to sit there and sleep the entire f**king way. The kid kicking the seat behind him was the only thing keeping him awake as the plane taxied down the runway. He turned around and peered through the coach seats, his hazel eyes piercing the kid as he narrowed them.
“Kick it one more time, and I’ll rip your toes off and eat ’em,” he promised.
“Have some decency,” Zane chastised as his head turned to the side to check the situation. “He’s gotta be three. He doesn’t know any better.”
“He does now,” Ty countered as he turned back around and settled into his seat contentedly. Behind him a horrified young mother was holding her son’s toes and gaping, wide-eyed and speechless.
“You have absolutely no people skills,” Zane muttered, shaking his head. “No wonder you’re sinking fast in the Bureau.”
“Yeah, I’m a real anchor,” Ty drawled as he leaned his head back and smiled. “I hear no one else will work with you.”
Zane’s lips pressed together slightly and he didn’t look up from his paperwork. “You should have your hearing checked,” he said flatly.
“My hearing’s just fine, Skippy. You were ‘promoted,’ right?” Ty asked sarcastically, giving the word quotations with his fingers without opening his eyes. “Hate to tell you, Sport, but being transferred to another division in the same level ain’t a promotion. It’s called shuffling the unwanted.”
“Reliable information, I’m sure, from someone on a landslide down the ladder.”
“We both seem to be on the slip ‘n’ slide to the gutter, Shuffleboard,”
Ty observed happily. “Difference is, I don’t give a shit,” he offered as he reached up and turned off the overhead light and adjusted the cool air blowing down on him.
Zane didn’t reply, instead closing his eyes for a moment to swallow down on the flare of annoyance. It was true. Ty didn’t give a shit. But Zane did, which meant they were destined to be at each other’s throats the whole time they were forced to work together.
Ty merely snickered quietly, knowing he had hit a chord. This could provide some amusement after all, he decided, even if they did end up killing each other.
Zane focused again on the notes. The rest of the flight passed in silence. Details about the deaths bounced around in his head, not really settling into any sort of pattern yet. He would dig the photos out and study them once they got settled. Maybe he could get a feeling for each victim.