Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

and turning to meet Zane’s eyes. “What?”
    Zane gestured for him to hit the speaker button, and Ty did.
    “I’m in jail in New Orleans,” Nick said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “They think I killed somebody, Ty. You’ve got to help me, man.”
    “What do you want me to do, come bust you out?”
    “Ty, you were assigned here for almost two years!” Someone yelled something unintelligible in the background, and when Nick spoke again his voice was lower. “I’m not asking you to come get me out of jail. I’m asking you to come down here and find the real killer!”
    Ty looked down at the phone and shook his head.
    “They’re not looking for anyone else,” Nick insisted.
    “Who did you kill?”
    “Nobody!”
    Ty winced. “I mean, who do they think you killed?”
    “I don’t even know. But Digger and I have been together since I landed.”
    “Where’s Digger?”
    “He’s in the fucking cell next to me, Grady!” Nick shouted. He regained control and whispered his next words. “Ty, please. They find out I’m a cop, I’m as good as dead down here.”
    Ty narrowed his eyes. “Is this like the time you called me from Panama and said—”
    “Ty!”
    “Because the ‘I’ve been arrested for murder’ gag only flies so many times,” Ty warned.
    “Ty.”
    “I mean, one day I’m going to stop coming.”
    “Ty!” Nick shouted, attempting to be calm and serious but clearly losing his patience. Another shout in the background caused him to hesitate. “Please. You’re the only person we know to call.”
    Ty swallowed with difficulty and frowned at Zane. Zane nodded. “We’ll be on the next flight out.”
    “Thank you, Six,” Nick whispered, and the nickname caused the hairs on Ty’s arms to rise.
    Another voice told Nick that his time was up and the call ended abruptly, leaving Ty staring at his phone.
    Zane had to say his name twice before Ty looked up at him. “Let’s get moving. I’ll go book the tickets. Should we call Mac?”
    Ty shook his head. “We’ll try to fix this before we go back Tuesday. Maybe we won’t miss work.”
    Better to ask forgiveness than permission. That had become their motto.
    Zane grimaced as he turned to get his phone.
    “Hey, what did you want to ask me?”
    Zane shrugged and gave him a small smile as they headed for the door. “It’ll wait.”

    It was well past midnight when Ty and Zane walked through Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans. The shops and restaurants were all closed and barred up, and very few people were walking the concourses.
    Ty kept his head down, not speaking at all. He’d said maybe ten words the entire flight from Baltimore, and his barely controlled need to fidget during the 45-minute layover in Charlotte had been like watching a chimpanzee trying to figure out how to pick the lock on its cage. Zane knew all the things that had to be swirling through his partner’s mind. Nick and Digger—two of his oldest, dearest friends, brothers in arms—were in trouble down here. Trouble that Ty might not be able to help them out of.
    Zane also knew Ty was concerned about showing his face in New Orleans. He’d spent almost two years in a deep undercover operation down here, and he hadn’t left on his own terms. Simply being seen by someone he’d known then could put him in a bad spot.
    It spoke to Ty’s loyalty and love of his friends that he was braving the city at all. Zane couldn’t think of many people he’d head back into Miami for.
    Ty was holding all of that in, though, keeping his worries to himself and storing them in the tightness of his jaw and shoulders.
    They retrieved their one checked bag, which held a few changes of clothing and two hard cases with their service weapons in them, but Ty was too eager to get to the police station to take the time to get the guns out and strap them on.
    “We’ll get them out in the cab,” Ty reasoned. Zane trailed after him, pulling the suitcase along.
    When they stepped out of the glass doors and headed for the line of black and white United taxis awaiting fares, the humidity and warmth hit Zane like a physical blow after the long winter in Baltimore.
    Ty mumbled under his breath as they walked toward the curb. “Ugh, late April. Never come here after May,” he told Zane. “October to April. Place is uninhabitable otherwise.”
    “Good to know.”
    The sound of screeching tires drew their attention to the end of the roadway, and a white van came