Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

narrowing his eyes as he did so. “You should do that more often,” he told him. “Let go and tell someone to fuck off, I mean. Makes you look less like you're about to have a coronary."
    "I don't look like I'm going to have a coronary,” Zane objected stiffly.
    "Sure, you don't,” Ty responded placatingly. “Have you had your blood pressure checked lately?"
    Zane narrowed his eyes. “Not recently. Are you insinuating I ought to?"
    Ty shrugged noncommittally and smiled crookedly. “That or unclench your ass a little."
    "Gee, thanks,” Zane muttered. “Any other advice you want to bestow?"
    "Just some friendly counsel,” Ty shrugged as he turned to look back at the white-board.
    Zane watched his back, wondering why the conversation had turned semiserious. He didn't like it. “What do you care?"
    Ty looked down and to the side slightly, not moving otherwise as he watched Zane in the periphery of his vision. “What makes you think I do, Hot Shot?” he countered in amusement.
    "I'm thinking a ‘fuck off’ would fit really well about now, so, fuck off ."
    "Why does it bother you so much?” Ty asked in amusement as he turned slightly and looked at his partner. “What do you care what I say or do?"
    "I already told you, I don't do violins. So back to your whiteboard,” Zane said crankily. He wasn't going to open himself up for more criticism. “I don't care if you insult me,” he claimed, looking like he'd bit into something sour.
    Ty grinned widely and turned back around. He enjoyed irritating Zane more than he had others in the past. He wasn't sure why, but he did. “They never ran a check of the phone calls made to and from Sanchez's hotel room,” he said abruptly. “We should look into that."
    "Reilly and Sanchez's,” Zane muttered, not feeling all that charitable.
    "Hmm?” Ty asked distractedly.
    "They shared a room,” Zane reminded. “They were partners. There were two of them?"
    Ty stared at the man for a moment and then curled his lip before looking back at the board. “Whatever,” he finally grunted. “I'd also like to look at their belongings,” he said after a moment. “Maybe there was a token left and the investigators just didn't recognize it. Might give us something."
    Zane's brow furrowed. “They didn't recognize it, but you think you will?” he inquired with a small sneer.
    "You never know,” Ty answered vaguely.
    Zane shrugged and made a note. “As good as anything else we've got.” He slid his finger down another column of notes. He sighed quietly, trying to remember what he'd been reading the night before. “Why am I not seeing lab reports for skin and nail scrapings?"
    Ty looked up with a frown, then back down at the report in his hands. “I don't know,” he said as he picked up another and paged through it. “Maybe they're not in yet?” he suggested doubtfully.
    "It's been almost two weeks,” Zane said as he continued to flip through sheets. “They should have been in with all the other lab work.” He pushed out of the chair. “I'm going over to the lab. Maybe they're just stuck in with the ME's notes. You want to come?"
    Ty groaned slightly. “Not really,” he answered honestly as he looked back up at the board.
    "I think you're taking this inept and lazy objective a little too far,” Zane complained.
    "Shut the fuck up,” Ty murmured with a serious glance up at Zane.
    Zane met his gaze for a long moment before turning his back and walking out of the room. He'd hit a nerve of some kind, and Zane wasn't about to go poking a Recon Marine. Not without at least two guns in hand. Storing the tidbit away, he headed down the quiet corridor, and his footsteps echoed on the worn floor.
    When he entered the records room off the lab there was no one at the desk, so he leaned over it, calling out a hello. He heard movement back in the stacks of files, but didn't see anyone. He skirted around the desk and peered into the well-lit recess, but there was no one there.
    "Can I help you with something, Special Agent Garrett?” Henninger asked from behind Zane with a tinge of amusement in his low voice. Zane glanced over his shoulder, concealing a small jolt of surprise. The young agent leaned against the desk Zane had just passed, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere. “It's lunch break. No one down here,” he said softly.
    Zane recovered from his surprise quickly and gave the young agent a small smile. “If you don't mind my interrupting whatever you're doing