“Procedure. I know. I do research for my stories.” Colson glared at the detective and decided to ignore his question. “What’s the purpose of your visit? You said you spoke to Millie?”
“Yes.” He should’ve known Rose wouldn’t let go of his question. “Your family is one of the oldest in New England. Practically Mayflower. Fancy boarding schools and all that, yet you left to live in Brooklyn.” Those penetrating eyes traveled over his arms, leaving Colson breathless and trembling. “How’d they feel about those tattoos and your earring? Were you one of those rebellious youths?”
“Not that any of this is your damn business.” Colson gathered his wits. “I left home because my parents didn’t want to deal with a gay son. Does that satisfy you?”
Rose blinked, and for a second, Colson thought he spied sympathy in his eyes. “Millie exonerated you. I had a chance to ask her if she saw who did it, and she said it was the delivery boy.We’re searching for him now. I wanted to let you know.” His lips twitched. “She was very adamant it wasn’t you. Said you were too sweet and couldn’t hurt a fly.”
He glowered at Rose. “You think this is funny, don’t you?” When he remained silent, Colson sighed. “I actually called your partner because I remembered that the block association put up cameras because of the home invasions.” It was his turn to smirk. “Maybe now you could concentrate on those and find the real criminal, instead of harassing innocent citizens.”
Rose’s expression darkened. “You’re cleared. Have a nice night, Mr. Delacourt.” Rose walked to the front door, and Colson unlocked it and waited for him to leave. “And a word of advice? Keep your conversations about your books within the walls of your house. Safer for you that way and saves the NYPD valuable time.”
Detective Rose was annoying as hell, but Colson could concede he had a point. “Thanks for letting me know. Good night.”
“Good night…Boy Scout.” Rose took off down the street, and Colson slammed the door.
“Jerk.”
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.
