time made me rethink things,” Zane supplied.
"Yeah, well, hang out with hookers and you get into some kinky shit,” Ty offered with a straight face.
The corners of Zane's mouth turned up slightly. “Everyone has their hobbies,” he replied smoothly.
"Whatever floats your boat, man,” Ty shrugged dismissively, obviously having lost interest in the conversation.
Zane went back to finishing his dinner. Ty wasn't just good at figuring out games, he was good at playing them. It was tiring trying to keep up with his banter, but it was also almost fun. Zane was reminded that this “partnership” might not last so long, and now he couldn't decide if he felt ambivalent about it, or worse, disappointed. There was the slight possibility that they could have been a formidable team. But it was clear that Ty's obvious disdain wouldn't allow that to happen.
They ate in silence for a while, and as soon as he was done with his dinner, Ty wiped his hands on the linen napkin and nodded at Zane. “So, tell me about the case,” he said without preamble.
The other agent's brain snapped back to its gathered data without further prompting. “Eight murders, different locations, nothing to tie them together. No pattern of victim choice, cause of death, time of death, or other establishable MO. Just the tokens left at the scenes, none of them the same. He's taunting us,” Zane rattled off, pushing his empty plate away.
Ty closed his eyes and nodded impatiently. “Does anything ring any bells?” he asked pointedly.
Zane slowly stirred his tea, eyes distant as he reviewed lists and lists of details in his head. “I don't have anything concrete, but the state of the victims really catches my interest. He's being creative. That's unusual."
"Aside from the tokens, the dye job is what's getting me,” Ty returned with a nod. “I feel like I should know why he did it. Why dye a natural blonde jet-black, then take her dark-haired roommate and bleach her blonde?"
"Could be he was trying to switch them before he killed them, but they weren't raped,” Zane said. “I'll have to give it some thought. Chew on the details."
"That's what you're doing now, genius,” Ty huffed.
"No, right now I'm just tossing stuff out. Working the details requires more concentration and less distraction.” Zane looked at him significantly.
Ty rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “You wanted to work together,” he reminded.
"When did I say that?” Zane asked quietly.
"It's in the silent pleading in your eyes,” Ty answered sarcastically.
"What's it going to be, Grady?” Zane asked, feeling very tired. “Decide now, so we can get to work. Together or not?"
Ty looked at him thoughtfully and then smiled slowly. “Well, I'm quite enjoying you so far,” he answered.
Zane studied that smile for a long moment before scooting his chair back. “Ready to go?"
Ty reached for the empty bottle of Guinness and the flat Bud Light and tucked them under his jacket. “Ready,” he said cheerfully.
Frowning at the concealed beer, Zane stood and flipped a large bill from his wallet onto the table. He figured the rest of the night would be interesting. Ty was enjoying him so far. Well, whoop-dee-doo.
As soon as they hit the street, Ty extracted the beer and reached out and took hold of Zane's elbow, pulling him to a halt. The taller man stopped and looked back at him, eyebrow raised in question. Ty raised the full bottle and sloshed the beer around, the scent wafting on the cool night breeze.
Zane blinked, and then he raised his chin sharply. “Hell, no."
"You do it or I will,” Ty told him matter-of-factly.
Zane's lips pressed together firmly on the simmering anger. There was no doubt in his mind that Ty would follow through. “Asshole,” he muttered, snatching the bottle from Ty's hand. He knew why Ty wanted this; if they looked like cops they wouldn't get close enough to ask a question. But that didn't mean he liked it one little bit.
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