Free Home of the Braised by Julie Hyzy Page B

that information. “Unfortunately . . . as you are well aware, Evan and several others had been murdered by the time we got there.”
    Tyree’s eyes tightened. “Who said anything about murder?”
    Flabbergasted, I shook my head. “You saw the bodies. They were bound and gagged. What would you call it?”
    “Were any of the victims still alive when you got there?”
    That took me aback. We hadn’t had time to check. I’d wanted to, but as soon as Gav had detected the scent, he’d rushed me back out the way we’d come. I hadn’t been able to check any of the victims for a pulse. “I don’t think so,” I said.
    “Think harder, Ms. Paras.”
    I jerked backward at the malevolence in his tone.
    “Did any of them speak to you?” he asked.
    “Are you joking?” Irritation made my voice rise. “They were dead. Or don’t you remember what happened there?”
    “You did not state unequivocally that all the victims were deceased when you arrived. You said you didn’t ‘think’ any were still alive. I’m asking you if you’re withholding information from me. Who spoke to you and what did he say?”
    Invasion of my personal space or no, I pushed to my feet, going chin to chest with Tyree. He took an instinctive step back. Good.
    I shook my toque in the man’s face. “Don’t you get it? We were there less than a minute before you arrived. No one spoke. They couldn’t.” I repeated myself, this time more slowly. “They were bound and gagged. And oh, yeah, dead.”
    “A minute is a long time,” he said. “A dying man could have a lot to say in that amount of time.” His nostrils flared, and he opened his mouth to continue.
    I couldn’t help myself, I cut him off even though I knew my next words would cause trouble. “Exactly what were
you
doing there, Agent Tyree?” I turned to the other man, Larsen. “I assume that was you under one of the other gas masks. How did you know to protect yourselves, hmm?”
    The moment I’d gotten to my feet, Larsen had shot back to stand by his partner’s side. An oddly protective move. Like there was any chance I could hurt either one of these toughies.
    Tyree’s voice was a growl. “You be careful, Ms. Paras,” he said. And in a very ominous, un-Secret Service–like gesture, he pointed two fingers toward his eyes, then turned them toward me. “We will be watching you.”

CHAPTER 8

    “WHAT’S WRONG?” CYAN ASKED WHEN I returned to the kitchen. “Was Sargeant’s first order of business in his new job to toss you overboard?” Her tone was light, but as she drew closer, her voice lowered. “Seriously, what happened at the press conference? You look furious. And you were gone a long time.”
    “I am furious, but it has nothing to do with the press conference.” Flexing my fingers, I rested a hip against the stainless steel island at the center of the room. Virgil had his back to me, working at the stove. “Where’s Bucky?”
    She flipped a hand toward the refrigeration area. “Taking inventory. Where have you been? I mean, really? Sargeant’s been back for a while. He called down here to leave a message for you.”
    I couldn’t answer her question about where I’d been, so I deflected. “What did he want?”
    “To set up a meeting with you. One-on-one, he said.” Her eyes clouded. “Uh-oh. What’s going on?”
    I needed to blow off steam. Usually, the best way to do that was to throw myself into work, but right now that option wasn’t going to cut it. “What time is Josh due down here?”
    “You’re not answering my questions.”
    I pointed at her. “Astute observation.” It was a lame attempt to keep the moment light. Failed.
    She fisted one hip and studied me. “Josh is supposed to join us in about an hour. You know how he’s intent on helping with the state dinner? Well, he wants to be in on the planning as well as the execution. Why do you ask?”
    “I’ll be back,” I said, still not answering her directly. Slamming my toque onto