Cut and Run 4 - Divide and Conquer

it
    didn‟t seem to faze her.
    “I‟m Elaina,” she said as she stuck her little hand out to shake his.
    “Are you a friend of Ty‟s?”
    His hand engulfed hers as he shook it gently. “I‟m Zane. Ty‟s
    partner. Nice to meet you, Elaina.”
    “Nice to meet you!” she said enthusiastically. She scooted around
    on the hard, cold metal bleacher seat to settle primly beside him,
    looking out at the field like she owned it. “Mommy told me to find
    someone who had FBI on their clothes. Then I saw you talking to Ty,
    so I knew you would be safe. He and Mommy used to date,” she told
    Zane with all the tact of an eight-year-old.
    Zane stifled a chuckle as he watched her, intrigued. “And who is
    Mommy?”
    “She plays second base. Number five.” Elaina pointed toward the
    field, where the FBI team was filtering out, beginning to warm up. Five
    was an attractive brunette, athletic and tan and smiling. The nickname
    on her uniform was “Lefty.” She was throwing right-handed, though.
    Zane didn‟t have any trouble picturing her with Ty.
    “You come to all the games?” Zane asked, opting for small talk.
    “Oh yeah. We‟re the best team here,” the little girl announced
    proudly. “Well, maybe tied for the best. But the firemen play dirty.”
    “Of course,” Zane agreed. He ducked down out of the way as a
    woman carrying a tray of food climbed up the bleachers next to them.
    “I‟ll have to start following the scores.”
    Zane caught sight of Ty standing in front of the chain-link
    dugout, bent over and strapping his shin guards on, slowed down by his
    wrapped fingers, as the rest of the catcher‟s gear sat in the grass next to
    him. Zane smiled fondly. Ty was so methodical with some things. He
    wore his Kevlar religiously and nagged Zane about his when they went
    out on assignment because Zane hated wearing the vest. Ty cleaned his
    62 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

    gun every other day whether it needed it or not. And every tie and strap
    and buckle on his gear had to be just so—if Zane didn‟t adjust a strap
    for him first—if he had even close to the time to fix it. It seemed he
    treated his recreational gear the same way.
    Zane shook his head but didn‟t look away. Ty Grady was a study
    in contrasts, and the puzzle-like appeal of it was impossible for Zane to
    resist.
    Zane wasn‟t sure why Ty was suiting up to catch, though. He
    definitely shouldn‟t have been, not with a bum throwing hand. But Ty
    was obviously under the impression that he could throw with his left
    hand and catch with his right, instead of the other way around. Zane
    knew he could shoot a gun, throw darts, and shoot pool, all with both
    hands. Zane had even seen him hurriedly scribble with both hands,
    though you could never read the end result, no matter which hand Ty
    used. Maybe he was truly ambidextrous, another fact Zane was
    somewhat embarrassed about not knowing, if it was true.
    Ty was still fussing with the strap to the chest protector as he and
    Alston walked up to home plate to meet with the umpires and the other
    team‟s captains. Zane couldn‟t hear them, but he could see Ty and
    Alston muttering to each other as Ty tried and failed several times to
    hook the strap at his side while using his hurt hand. Finally, Alston
    reached out and yanked Ty‟s helmet from under his arm, swatted his
    hands away from the strap, and bent to clasp it for him as the others
    gathered at home plate tried not to laugh. Zane shook his head as he
    watched. As irascible as Ty could be, he sure had a lot of friends,
    people who seemed to see right through the façade that had so
    confounded Zane when he first met Ty Grady.
    The gathered men all shook hands where they stood in the batter‟s
    boxes. They‟d step closer as they shook hands, kicking red dirt on the
    pristine white plate. Zane watched in amusement as Ty carefully
    avoided the white chalk lines and home plate. The meeting lasted a few
    minutes as they went over the ground rules, the men scuffing the dirt in
    the boxes with their cleats, smoothing out the uneven ridges of dirt.
    Then they parted and went back to their respective dugouts. Ty took
    pains to step over the white chalk lines on the field as they walked, but
    Divide & Conquer | 63

    it was hard to tell if it was to avoid them or because that pill was hitting
    him.
    Elaina leaned closer to Zane. “Mommy says Ty‟s very
    superstitious,” she confided in a whisper. “He wears the same socks
    every