Cody nodded.
“I think you should enter, Z. Someone from the family should,” Annie said.
“Since when is Mark not family?” Zane asked.
“Jackass,” Mark said with a snort. “You know she means a blood relative.”
“You’ll have to talk to Mother about that,” Zane said, trying not to sound bitter and failing.
“Come on, Zane,” Annie whispered. Zane shrugged.
“How about it, Grady?” Mark said. “We’ll all enter, see who’s held onto their skills.”
Zane glanced between them, not sure why Mark would warn him about Ty being unstable and dangerous and then try to get Ty to enter a shooting contest. Perhaps it was just a little too much testosterone for his brother-in-law to handle. Or maybe Mark was trying to find a reason to have a loaded gun pointed at Ty’s head.
Ty glanced at Zane and gave a lazy shrug. “I got three beers in me, no way I should be trick shooting.”
Mark laughed and threw back the rest of his beer.
The sheriff walked up to their table as they talked, tipping his hat when they all looked at him.
“Sheriff Barnes,” Zane with a smile. “Any news for us?”
“Some,” the man said, as unflappable and unreadable as ever. “We found the vet practice the tranquilizers were stolen from.”
“That’s great!” Annie said. She sat forward in her chair.
“Yes, ma’am. Unfortunately, it was yours.”
“What?” Her smile morphed into a horrified gape.
Zane glanced at his sister, then he met Ty’s eyes. Ty was looking at the table, probably trying to observe Mark’s reaction without being noticed. There was another point against him.
“I reported it missing the other night when I was taking stock of everything,” Marissa admitted, looking mortified.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Annie asked.
“I thought it was drug seekers, not tiger poachers!”
“We’ll flag ’em down,” the sheriff said. He tipped his hat. “Y’all enjoy the party.”
He sauntered away, leaving a pall over their little gathering.
“What does that mean?” Annie finally asked.
Ty and Zane shared a look, but neither was willing to answer.
“Oh no,” Annie said.
Zane glanced up, but Annie was peering past his shoulder at someone else approaching. Zane turned to find Stuart walking toward them.
“Garrett,” Stuart said. He touched the brim of his hat with a finger and Zane stood to meet him. “I come to apologize to you and . . . your friend.”
Zane couldn’t help it when his eyebrows climbed high.
“Well, that’s . . . decent of you,” Zane said.
Stuart held out his hand, but Zane hesitated before taking it. After the things this man had said to him, and more importantly, to Ty, Zane wasn’t feeling overly friendly. He also had pretty solid suspicions that Stuart and his buddies were behind the tiger poaching, and one of them had probably shot his father. Still, he didn’t want to tip his cards yet, so he took the hand Stuart offered.
Stuart turned to Ty, offering to shake. Ty didn’t stand; he merely drank his beer, one foot on the edge of the table in front of him, leaning back in his chair.
“It’s Grady, right?” Stuart asked. “Staff Sergeant Grady?”
Ty looked at the man’s hand, then at him. Zane glanced between them, wondering how the hell anyone had learned Ty had been a Staff Sergeant. He glanced at Mark as another wave of suspicion went through him.
It was impossible to see Ty’s expression between the aviators and the Stetson. “Nice limp.”
“Accidents happen when you work on a ranch.”
Ty cocked his head, examining the man’s leg. Zane knew his partner was seeing what no one else was.
“You’re not going to shake my hand?” Stuart demanded.
Ty waited another few heartbeats, long enough to make the man even more uncomfortable. Then he slid to his feet. He was several inches taller, and when he stood, his proximity forced Stuart to take a step back. Ty offered his left hand, and Stuart was obligated to give him an awkward, backwards handshake. For whatever reason, it pissed the man off. He didn’t say anything else, just turned on his heel and walked away. He was indeed limping, and it seemed more pronounced than it had several days ago.
“That was weird,” Mark said, frowning hard.
Zane nodded.
Ty took a long drink of his beer. “Is he one of the shooters?” he asked, voice filled with cruel anticipation that sent a shiver of pleasure up Zane’s spine.
“I believe he is,” Joe answered, smiling. “He and his buddy damn near beat Jamie and Mark last year.”
Ty nodded. “I’m in.”
The others let out whoops and started banging on the table, and Zane couldn’t help but laugh. He set down his drink. “I guess we ought to pay in, then.”
The others chattered as Zane and Mark walked over to the stage to make the donations. When he returned to the table, Zane stopped at Ty’s side and looked down at him. “All these boys are good. You better bring your A-game, Grady.”
Ty just smiled and stood, reaching out to grab the three bottle caps he’d collected and slide them into his pocket. “Ladies,” he drawled as they left the table.
Ty’s shoulder bumped Zane’s as they walked, and it was harder than Zane expected to keep from wrapping his arm around his partner. He talked to distract himself.
“There’s several events, and they tally scores for individuals and teams as we go along.” They made their way to the shooting gallery, set up in a nearby corral. No one was allowed in before the contest started, to avoid any unfair advantages.
“Okay,” Ty said. He rolled up the sleeves of his thin linen shirt and wiped at his forehead with the buff on his wrist. They came up to the main table and surveyed the gear laid out. “Rifles, pistols, knives.” Ty began to laugh. “The things you get me into.”
Zane grinned. “Texas,” he said, since that was the answer to everything. “What are you up to, Ty?”
Ty just hummed as he wandered off toward the end of the table. Zane had no idea why Ty had offered to enter the contest, other than for the chance to stand close to one or more armed men they knew wanted Ty out of the picture.
They wouldn’t know what shots they were taking until they were unveiled during the contest, so they wouldn’t know if there was a possibility of danger either.