Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

hardwood floors covered by handmade rag rugs. The plaster walls were covered with neatly framed black-and-white photographs; some of them had to be a hundred years old, and some of them were new enough that Ty was wearing his FBI windbreaker in one.
    Zane looked at a few of them, stopping for a little longer when he found a photo of Ty in uniform. He looked much younger, and while it was the same hard, unsmiling face he’d seen in every Marine’s photo, there was a hint of something in the hazel eyes that Zane didn’t think he’d seen in Ty before. He couldn’t quite place it. The man did look good in a uniform, that was for sure.
    Zane stared at it for a long time before pulling himself away and going to find the staircase.
    “Grandpa!” Zane heard Ty exclaim in a pleased voice from the kitchen.
    Zane shut the door with a smile. About five minutes, later he stood in the doorway of the kitchen again. An old man had joined the table, and he sat next to Ty, holding his hand and patting it affectionately.
    “Grandpa, this is my partner, Zane,” Ty said as soon as Zane sat. “Zane, Chester Grady.”
    “FBI agent, huh?” the old man said to Zane with narrowed eyes.
    “Most of the time,” Zane admitted.
    “Won’t hold that against you,” Chester said. “Yet,” he promised.
    Zane arched an eyebrow at the old man. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
    “Behave, you old goat,” Mara chastised. “We’ll start without your daddy,” she told the rest of them with a frown. “He better be stuck in a hole somewhere,” she grumbled as she bowed her head.
    Zane glanced around the table as he slowly crossed his hands, figuring a prayer was coming, and his eyes stuck on Ty, who looked even more tense than before.
    “One of you say grace,” Mara ordered after waiting for one of the brothers to take the lead. Ty looked up, meeting Zane’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the screen door creaked and interrupted him.
    “Those damn kids are gonna blow themselves up down there,” the man who entered pronounced as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook beside the door. “Morning, boys,” he said, as if having his sons there for breakfast was nothing unusual.
    “Morning, sir,” both men responded in unison.
    “Dad, this is Zane Garrett,” Ty added with a nod to his partner. “Zane, Earl Grady,” he introduced as Ty’s father came over and patted Ty on the shoulder in greeting.
    Earl was an imposing man, tall and broad-shouldered. The man made Ty look like the runt of the litter. His graying hair was cut short and neat, and he was clean-shaven and almost as devoid of wrinkles as his wife. Zane decided it must be the altitude.
    Earl reached across the table to offer his callused hand to Zane. “Hello, sir,” Zane greeted as he stood to shake Earl’s hand.
    “Good to meet you, son,” Earl responded as he shook Zane’s hand. His voice was deep and gravelly, with the same twanging, almost hoarse quality Ty’s was apt to have at times. His accent was more pronounced. “Ty has told us absolutely nothing about you,” he informed Zane as he sat at the other end of the table, opposite his wife.
    Zane’s brows rose. He was mildly surprised, first by being addressed as “son” and second by Earl’s comment about his presence. “Ah.” He looked to his partner sitting across the table from him. “You did tell them I was coming, right?”
    “Yes,” Ty answered defensively.
    “Oh, don’t you worry, dear,” his mother said with a pat of Zane’s hand. “Earl, say grace so Zane doesn’t starve,” she ordered. She bowed her head again as Earl said a few words over the food, and then as soon as he was done she lifted her head and started passing around the dishes. “Eat up,” she invited.
    Giving Ty a dubious glare, Zane picked up the serving fork and started filling his plate and then offered the platter to Deuce, who took it with a murmur of thanks and dished out his own breakfast before passing it to his father.
    “So Zane, Richard tells me you two have had some interesting times,” Earl Grady said as he took the platter.
    “Richard? Richard… Burns?” Zane asked, his fork pausing over his plate. Earl looked up from his plate and raised one eyebrow. “Interesting times,” Zane quickly answered. “If you were reading about them, I guess,” he added.
    “Reading about them,” Earl repeated as his eyes traveled to Ty. “That what you been doing, son? Sitting behind a desk