Chapter Four

Harper sat in his sun-filled kitchen with his brother and fed him the last of his breakfast. David smiled, and his gaze latched on to the cup of orange juice. Harper immediately picked it up and put the straw to his mouth.

"Good, huh? You like OJ, don't you?"

David blinked and licked his lips, and Harper blotted the drops that had spilled onto his chin.

"Good morning." Luis entered the kitchen. David grunted, and his smile grew wider. "Hey, big guy. How are you? Enjoying breakfast with your big bro?"

David's head jerked, and Harper's heart squeezed so tight, it hurt to breathe. "We just finished cereal, and he's had some juice." Harper checked outside. "Looks like a nice day. Maybe you can go to the park."

"I was thinking that. David likes to see the kids playing, and we get ice cream from the truck." He sat across from David and made eye contact. "How about it? The park and ice cream? We can do that this morning before your therapy later on."

"Thanks, Luis. I've renewed the membership for the zoo and aquarium, so you can go anytime." He'd bought a special van for David to travel to therapy, and Luis loved taking him for drives. They drove all over the city, and Luis made sure to send him pictures so Harper could see David enjoying himself.

"Perfect. With the nice weather, it's good to get him out of the house more. It keeps him stimulated, and he loves the animals."

Harper remembered their dog, Astro, who'd waited by the front door every day for David to come home from school. His mother had told him it was Astro's frantic barking that had alerted her to the accident that had killed several students and injured David. A truck had blown through a yellow light and T-boned the school bus. David had been out of his seat on the steps, ready to get off, when the truck hit. He'd flown out of the bus and hit the ground several yards away. He'd suffered massive head trauma and spinal injuries, and the doctors hadn't thought he'd survive, but he was a fighter.

Harper pinched his eyes shut against the brutal memories of that day. "I've got a full schedule, but as always, if you need me, I'll have my cell phone."

"Don't worry," Luis reassured him as he did every morning. "We're fine." He poured some coffee. "I heard you finally got that bastard who cut that old lady. Good for you."

"Yeah. Finally." The kid had gone underground, and it had taken a week for Harper and Nolan to find him holed up in some friend of a friend's apartment in the Bronx. "He confessed and cried like a baby, hoping to make a deal. Seems he made an earlier delivery to Ms. Johnson, saw she lived alone, and decided to return and help himself to some of her things. When she confronted him, he grabbed a knife. Lucky for her, it didn't penetrate far through her clothes, but she lost blood."

"Jesus." Luis grimaced in disgust. "You gotta be a cold-hearted SOB to do that to an old person."

"Or anyone helpless." A shiver ran through him, and he automatically looked to David. It was Harper's greatest fear and why he relentlessly—obsessively, some people had said—did everything he could to protect his brother.

"Agreed." Luis took David's dishes and brought over a wet washcloth to clean his face and hands. The man had been David's caretaker for over fifteen years—he'd helped not only David but Harper too through the trauma of losing their parents, and Harper considered him part of the family, somewhere between a surrogate father and older brother. They might not have had much good fortune in their lives, but the home health care agency matching Luis with their family was the luckiest day of both David's and Harper's lives. They couldn't have made it without his dedication and strength of not only his body but his soul. "What was it like meeting Colson Delacourt? He's cool?"

Harper stifled a groan. "Not you too…am I the only one who hasn't read his books?"

Luis's brown eyes crinkled shut with laughter. "You haven't? Man, you're missing out. I gotta keep the lights on when I read his stuff."

"I think I see enough death and destruction on the daily. I don't need to bring it home with me."

Ignoring him, Luis continued. "He really gets into the mind of a killer. Like it's twisted, you know?"

"Trust me, I know." Harper finished his coffee.

"I can't believe you had him pegged as your perp." Luis's laughter rang out, and David, who loved seeing people happy, smiled. "Right, David? Your brother's a silly guy."

Harper let them have their fun. "There was circumstantial evidence, so he was brought in for questioning. When it was apparent he wasn't the perp, I let him know he was no longer a suspect."

Luis side-eyed him. "He's a good-looking dude too, right? I've seen his bio picture. Is he single?"

Harper sighed. Luis was another one who was forever pushing him to have a social life. "Yes."

"Yes to what?" Luis persisted.

"To both. He's good-looking and single. But a most definite no to whatever else is going on in your head."

"Why? It's been a long, long time since you put yourself out there. It wouldn't hurt to try."

"Never." His response was swift, sure, and deadly serious. "No way in hell. Once was enough to show me people's true colors. Not that I didn't already know. But I'm not interested in going through that mess again."

"I know it's hard. When I lost Maria, I gave up. Now I regret it." Luis's girlfriend, an EMT officer, had been killed on the job eleven years earlier. It was before he'd moved in with Harper and David full-time. Her parents were in the Dominican Republic, and Harper's family would have her to the house for Thanksgiving and Christmas. David had adored her.

He could turn the tables on his friend. "You could start dating, you know. You're a good-looking dude too."

"I go out. There's the difference between us. I at least try and have some fun."

"I have fun," Harper grumbled.

"Bullshit," Luis shot back. "When was the last time you were with someone?"

He shifted in his seat. He didn't like discussing his personal life in front of David. The doctors had told him that though his brain damage was irreparable, he still had some cognitive function. It was a murky area, as much about the brain was still unknown, and the doctors urged him to treat David as if he understood the world around him. Over the years, he'd witnessed David expressing emotions, and Harper's focus was to make sure David never felt like a burden or that Harper was sacrificing himself for his care.

"I dunno. It's not like I keep a calendar. I'm busy, you know? Crime doesn't take a vacation." To escape Luis's eyes, he left the table to rinse his cup. "The bad guys don't give me a chance to hang out at the club."

"Make the time. You know I'm here if David needs me. You gotta fill the well sometimes, my man. Otherwise you're gonna dry up and shrivel away. Don't think I haven't noticed how you've changed."

His hand tightened on the dishcloth. "No I haven't," he responded woodenly. "I'm the same miserable person I always was." He forced a smile, but Luis, the canny bastard, wasn't buying it.

"Not when you were with Ronnie. You were happy."

The mention of his former lover—his first and only—sent both a chill and a hot burst of anger through him, and he tossed the dishcloth aside.

"Yeah. I was. The happiest. But he turned out to be a miserable fu—" He stopped before letting loose with a torrent of curse words. One thing he'd promised himself was to try and not get angry in front of David. Only calm, happy faces. "Person." He blew out a frustrated breath. "I was completely wrong about him. Which means my judgment in that particular area sucks. So it's better to keep it light. I have to get going, or I'll be late." He kissed the top of David's head. "Gotta go to work, buddy. See you tonight." David made kissing noises, and Harper put his cheek to his lips. "Love you."

David made a sound, his mouth moving, and Harper knew it was an attempt to say "I love you" back. "Have a great day, and don't eat too much ice cream." He left the house and locked the door behind him.

***

"That was a nice, clean collar." Nolan clicked his mouse. "Just the way I like 'em. Last form filed."

"Same," Harper answered. "The old lady's making a nice recovery too. The asshole is pleading guilty and crying for his momma. Hope they deep-six him." He grimaced.

"I wonder if he's behind all these home invasions in the Heights in the past week. Captain says he wants us to review the tapes and recanvass the neighborhood."

"Somehow, I doubt it. I think it was a crime of opportunity. A rich old lady who lives alone." He sipped his coffee.

"Speaking of said little old lady, how do you know about Millie Johnson's recovery?" Nolan gave him the side-eye. "You pay her a visit? Maybe hoping to bump into Colson Delacourt?" A sly grin played on his lips.

Good thing he'd perfected a poker face over the years. It took a lot more than teasing to make him crack. "You're delusional."

"And you're gay and unattached, and so is he."

Harper crumpled the empty coffee cup and tossed it into the trash. "Well, that settles it. We're two gay men in New York City, which means we must want to hook up." He scowled. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I saw a look." Nolan sounded amused, and that annoyed him more than anything. "Don't matter if you're straight or gay. You're interested. And it was reciprocal. In case you were wondering."

It was? That was news to him.

"I wasn't. The only thing I was interested in concerning Colson Delacourt was figuring out if he was our perp. Now that I know he's not, he's forgotten." Maybe if he said it often enough, he'd believe it himself. But he'd be damned if he'd say that out loud. "And, since you seem so interested in my comings and goings, I thought it would be nice to check in on the victim, since she's an old lady who lives by herself and is recovering from a crime, so I called the hospital. You know the brass always wants us to be compassionate." He smirked. "This is me showing I care."

Nolan didn't return his banter. "I know you're compassionate and caring. I see how you are with David. You've put your life on hold to make sure he's taken care of. Not many people would do that."

Fuck . First Luis and now Nolan. He did not want to talk about this shit in the middle of the squad room. "So listen, about the Hamilton assault—"

"Harper."

"I met the ADA outside. She was here for another case, and we stopped to talk."

"Good for her." Nolan was determined to pick a fight with him, obviously, as he steamrolled ahead. "You can have both, you know. A personal life and still make sure your brother is looked after."

Desperate to avoid further conversation concerning his brother, Harper ignored Nolan and continued to talk about the other case. "The vic positively ID'd the suspect. The ADA said he's part of a punch-down gang going around the area—"

"Enough," Nolan snapped, loud enough that several heads popped up over their cubicle walls, but retreated when Nolan glared at them.

Harper's hands clenched. "I do not want to talk about this."

"Good. Because I've heard all your bullshit excuses, and now you can listen." Nolan rolled his chair over so they were side by side.

Harper tried to lighten the tension. "Gee, Nolan. Any closer and you'll be in my lap," he joked. "Does Gina know you have a crush on me?"

A muscle ticked in Nolan's clean-shaven jaw. "Damn fool. I know what you're trying to do. And why. But it's wrong. You're wrong."

"I said I don't want to discuss this," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "I mean it, Nolan. There are some things that are off-limits, and David is one of them. Even with you."

"This isn't about David. It's about you and your absolute refusal to think you can have a personal and a professional life."

"To me, they're one and the same. So if you want to keep working with me, knock it off. Please."

Nose to nose, he gazed into Nolan's brown eyes and winced at the compassion. He despised it. He wasn't doing anything extraordinary by being his brother's caretaker. All he wanted was for people to stop telling him what a good person he was for simply doing the right thing.

"Fine." Nolan gave a sharp jerk of his head and rolled his chair away to his desk. "And I think it's a good idea for us to pay Ms. Johnson a visit."

"Let's do it." He clicked out of his reports. "I have a call in to the block association, and they said they'll have a copy of all the videos of the past three weeks—from when the break-ins began."

"Look at you, being all organized and stuff," Nolan teased.

"That's because I'm not wasting my time playing matchmaker."

They drove to Pierrepont Street, where the block association had their headquarters, and were given a room and a computer. For several hours they viewed the tape, stopping only for a quick lunch run for some wonton soup, egg rolls, and chicken fried rice.

Nolan pointed his chopsticks at the monitor. "See that? White hoodie? He's the leader, I'm thinking. He goes in, leaves his buddy at the front door as a lookout. If he sees someone coming, tap-tap-tap on the door, to alert homeboy inside to hurry up."

"Uh-huh." Harper chewed his egg roll. "Not our delivery boy. These guys are older, and they definitely knew what houses they were after. They wait until after the owners leave, then make their move." A chilling thought hit him. "That means Millie Johnson is still a mark." He met Nolan's eyes. "She's not safe. We should go over there and make sure she's okay."

"Yeah. I'll let Poole know they should start a sweep of the area with unis. 'Cause soon they're gonna run out of houses without people and move on to ones where people are home, which is moving into way more dangerous territory. And they might expand to more neighborhoods. We need to nip it in the bud."

Harper tossed his trash into the bin. "We will."

By five thirty, they'd reviewed all the tapes and sent copies to the lab for facial recognition and enhancement. They walked the three blocks to Millie Johnson's house and after two pushes on the doorbell, she answered.

"Detectives. So nice to see you again. Come in, come in. I just made some fresh coffee."

Harper frowned. "Ms. Johnson, you really need to stop opening the door without checking to see who it is. You should think about getting a camera installed."

They followed her down the long hallway, and Harper was glad to see that although her gait was a bit stiff and stilted and she used a walker, she seemed to not be suffering any long-term ill effects.

"I didn't have a chance to tell you, Ms. Johnson, but you have a beautiful ho—" Harper stopped short.

Fuck .

Colson Delacourt sat at the kitchen island, a piece of pie in front of him, a scoop of vanilla ice cream perched precariously on top. He looked up and when their eyes met, the easygoing expression on his face fled, replaced by a flat wariness that dimmed the brightness of those sky-blue eyes.

"Look who stopped by, Colson. The two detectives who helped me. Isn't that nice?"

"I should get going, Millie." Frowning, Colson rose to his feet.

Obviously, Colson Delacourt did not think it was nice.

"Nonsense. You haven't even begun eating the piece you cut. Sit, please." She turned to Nolan and him. "Detectives. Would you like some pie with your coffee?"

"One moment. I have to check this message." Nolan reached into his pocket. "Wouldn't you know it? My wife called. I need to get home to help with the baby. So fussy. Thanks so much for the invitation, Ms. Johnson, but Detective Rose will be happy to stay and have some."

"Nolan," he warned. He hadn't heard the phone buzz, but more importantly, Nolan and Gina had no children. He was so going to kill his partner.

"See you tomorrow," Nolan called as he raced out of the house. The door slammed.

"Please stay, Detective. Colson, dear, you remember Detective Rose?"

"Yes," he clipped out.

"You will have some pie with us, won't you, Detective? Colson helped me make it, since the other one was ruined."

"Did he, now? How very domestic of him." Harper gave his most sunny smile.

Delacourt's icy-blue eyes flashed murder, and damned if that fire didn't kick-start his desire. Harper might lie to everyone else, but he could admit to himself that Colson Delacourt was sexy as hell and that he wanted him.

"I'm sure an important man like the detective is way too busy."

Harper had planned to refuse—if he left, he'd be home early for David, but he could take the extra half an hour here and still have plenty of time with his brother. And this was too tempting an offer to turn down.

"Thanks, Millie. I'd love to have some pie, especially if Mr. Delacourt helped make it."

He grinned at Colson's death glare across the island.