"It is possible your mother is involved?"

Even though she'd prepped him for it with her earlier questions, the shock wave of anger and embarrassment still caught him by the throat and squeezed, sending reflexive shivers straight down to his toes. Summoning every ounce of calm he possessed, Landon pushed it into his response. "My mother's been focused on running her campaign for Brooklyn borough president. Add on the fact that she barely knows how to use the sweet little MacBook I got her last year for Christmas, and I hardly think she's out hunting for code to sell on the dark web."

"I was referring to your biological mother."

"Then you'd need to ask her yourself. I haven't seen nor heard from her since she walked out of my life twenty-three years ago, still riding the aftereffects of a speedball."

Two.

Daphne let the sounds of the squad room fade into the background as she transferred her notes into her antiquated-yet functioning-computer. She'd give her right arm for the sweet little MacBook McGee had referenced, but she was stuck with her functional piece of shit, circa 2006.

Their conversation had ended rather abruptly after she'd started tugging lines about his biological mother, and then several of his suitemates had arrived in quick succession. All had appeared relatively harmless, the cliched expectations she'd had of Landon McGee reflected all the way down to the ankles of their skinny jeans and back on up to their Warby Parkers. It had only made Landon stand out more, the thick, tousled hair, well-worn Levis, and black T-shirt a sexy, appealing combination.

Too sexy, if she were honest with herself. The man had a subtle appeal that sort of sneaked up on you. And the moment you looked twice to make sure he was as attractive as your first impression, you sunk a few more feet in the hormone stew.

And God bless, she'd sworn off the hormone stew. Her experiences to date had left her convinced it led to nothing but heartache and trouble. Of course, if she were even half right about Landon McGee, the man looked like he could pull you right past stew and into a whole Thanksgiving dinner before you were halfway aware of it.

That was why she'd latched onto his hipster suitemates like cold on ice and hadn't let go. She'd spent another half hour questioning the new arrivals, but was quickly assured their equipment was intact and all preliminary reviews pointed toward untouched software.

Which left McGee and BKNY Games as the intended target of the break-in.

The preliminary run she'd managed on the walk over had been rudimentary at best, outlining the basics only. Landon McGee was the adopted son of Louisa Mills, and adopted brother to Nick Kelley and Fender Blackstone. Kelley's name popped because of his time in the NFL and because she'd spent more than a few evenings in his bar, the End Zone. As soon as she made the connection, she had another one. Her brother, Cade, had run a vice op out of the bar earlier in the summer, culminating in the capture of a small-time thug in the neighborhood who fancied himself an up-and-coming player in the local drug trade.

They'd discussed it at the time, and the general consensus was that the End Zone had been hit due to its high-profile stature in Park Heights. McGee's family hit a few notes on the local celebrity meter, for those who cared about those things. It wasn't Hollywood glitz and glamour, but the people of Park Heights paid attention to Louisa and the sons she'd adopted as boys.

The adoption angle that had given Daphne the idea on her walk to DUMBO that the man might have a past, but even she couldn't have imagined how quickly he'd clam up when she mentioned his birth mother. The immediate shuttering of that warm, rich, gaze, along with his inflectionless speedball reference, gave Daphne all the information she needed.

In moments, she had one of the city's most extensive databases pulled up and running on her POS. And in a few more moments, she had Landon McGee's background, punctuated with a series of dates documenting when his mother had put her own addiction before the care and well-being of her son.

"Daph!" The heavy holler of her name, matched to a hard slap of her computer monitor, had Daphne glancing up. "Took you long enough. You've been staring at that monitor like it's about to propose."

Her brother Cade-youngest of the four brothers who outranked her in age-stood over her computer, that special, maniacal, older-sibling-tormentor grin zeroed straight in on her.

"I'm working. Go away."

"Maybe I can help."

"Not likely." She added a snort to the thinly veiled insult, just for fun.

"You know, most people like me."

"Don't delude yourself." He irritated her to no end, but since she philosophically considered it his job, she was hard-pressed to keep a sour look on her face. "It's a good thing you're my favorite brother."

"That's not saying much." Cade pushed a stack of papers away and took a corner of her desk. "What's up?"

"Doing some research."

"On?"

"A case I caught this morning."

Cade had the monitor whirled around before she could stop him, his interest already ratcheting up at her search query. "You're looking into Landon McGee? Why?"

"I'm looking into his case. He called in a robbery. His business was hit this morning."

"Guy's into computers, right? Someone steal his stuff?"

"It's more like they were after his intellectual property. His storage system was hit, and I'd only give it a fifty-fifty shot it's an outside job. Although Landon doesn't agree it's one of his suitemates or the few people he employs."

"Landon, is it?"

Daphne ignored the innuendo, doing some quick math with her various brothers' ages. "Rory went to school with him, right?"

"Yeah. Same class. They were two years ahead of me."

Which meant five ahead of her.

"Why are you pulling McGee's file? You don't think the guy's involved, do you?"

It was her responsibility to consider all angles, yet pinning the job on Landon simply didn't jingle. Based on the look on her brother's face, she could see Cade didn't figure him for it, either. Which was a dismal sign that both of them probably needed a bit of distance from the neighborhood.

"Doesn't say much for our cop skills if we both think the guy's innocent and squeaky clean just because," Daphne said.

"Don't let the nice-guy exterior fool you. He's a good man, but I wouldn't call him squeaky. Nothing illegal or anything, but he's tough. I'd take him into a fight with me if I needed backup."

Since that was basically the highest compliment her brother could bestow, Daphne figured it was time to stop looking and start listening. She ignored the computer and sat back. "All right, Facebook, lay it on me. Tell me all you know."

He rewarded her with one of his rare, floppy grins and launched in. "All I'm saying is he's easy to underestimate. He was skinny as a kid, and most people around here don't see us as the grownups we've become. That includes the people we went to school with. To most he's still the gawky kid with size thirteen feet."

Her eyes widened and she made no effort to stop them. "Thirteen?"

"Last I heard Stephanie Sullivan bragging about them, they were."

"He hooked up with her?" Damn, and here she'd let her interest begin to run away with her. Ratcheting back disappointment she had no business feeling, Daphne ignored the very real fact that she had no interest in a man who had interest in a woman like Stephanie Sullivan.

"Hooked is probably too strong a suggestion on that one. She attempted to get her claws in, but Landon kept his distance." Cade's eyes narrowed. "Interested much?"

"You know how I feel about Stephanie."

"Sadly, I do."

"Enough said."

"Probably not, but we'll save that for another day."

"So is he seeing anyone?" The words slipped out before she could stop them, and her brother's grin went from floppy to wolfish in a blink. "You are interested in the guy."

"I'm doing my job. He might not think anyone's out to get his business, but if he's seeing someone, she-or he-" she quickly amended, attempting to be as fair and open-minded as possible, "-could have been the one to attract attention to the business."

"You're subtle, Daph. As far as I know, the guy plays squarely in the she camp. And as far as I also know, he's not seeing anyone." Her brother tapped her computer screen. "Since you're clearly interested, there's nothing I can say otherwise. But be careful where you dig. Landon and his brothers are easy, affable, good guys, but you go digging into sensitive spots and you'll have all three in your face in a matter of moments."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"It's just a fact. Dig where there's real potential and leave the past where it belongs."

She might not be willing to give in to her brother, but Daphne was honest enough with herself to admit her interest in Landon McGee had spiked quickly-and it wasn't all based on professional interest. However, she wasn't quite ready to give in on the idea that his past had no bearing on his case.

Up-and-coming businessman. A well-known family in the neighborhood, a fact that had recently been churned up in the local news by his mother's decision to run for borough president. And a biological mother with criminal history.

She'd be a fool to ignore those facts, and based on Landon's sharp focus when she mentioned his birth mother, she suspected he felt the same.

"I want to know what I'm dealing with. If it is an outside job, it helps to understand who might have had a motive. A biological son moving up in the world could be an awfully strong incentive to start making trouble."

Cade scanned the computer screen. "Wow, that's some heavy shit for a kid to deal with."

Daphne had already read Landon's file, her stomach dropping with each incident, and she couldn't argue with her brother's assessment. "That's just what got reported. You can't get too far with files that were sealed because of his age, but it's not hard to piece it together."

"Damn."

She'd been a cop long enough to know the horrors far too many people lived with. A cop had to separate emotion from the job and do the work to find answers. Or so she told herself. The reality was that there were certain instances-whether it was the person, or the crime, or a combination of both-where those emotions leaped up and swamped you no matter how hard you tried to keep them at bay.

The question here, to her mind, was why had Landon McGee churned up those feelings? The man had a difficult childhood, but it was made better-practically idyllic-by the age of ten. Nothing could erase what was on her screen, but by all accounts the small boy had grown up into a successful man who came from a good home and was raised by a loving mother.

"Daph." Cade pulled her back to the moment before he swung her screen back around to her. "There you go again."

"Just thinking."

"I can see that." The usual teasing and taunting that provided the framework of their relationship vanished as Cade leaned forward. "Don't go painting him as some poor, misguided hero. That approach never ends well."

"I'm not doing that." The fib slipped out, dangerously close to a lie.

"Good. See that you don't."

After a day that included the cops, cleaning up his office and taking a full inventory, and reassuring his mother three times that he was fine, Landon was more than ready to call it quits at five. He was the boss-he could have walked right back out that morning-but he'd stayed to deal with the aftermath of the break-in.

He kept a small staff-two full time employees and a part-timer who enjoyed the coding work around rearing small children-and he gave the three of them a complete briefing. He also regularly employed a cadre of freelancers from around town, nearly all of whom found a way to call, e-mail, or text him throughout the day.

Word clearly traveled as fast as data on his blessedly untouched T-1 line.

With each and every call, e-mail or text, he grew more and more frustrated that his business had been a target. He kept to himself and didn't run his mouth about his work. Best as he knew, he had no professional enemies. Even the careful, thoughtful list he'd drawn up about his suitemates at Detective Rossi's urging had produced nothing but reinforcement that he didn't work with people who wished him harm.

So who would have reason to target BKNY specifically?

When the swirling questions refused to fade, he'd acknowledged the inevitable. It was time for a beer.

The dark interior of his brother's bar, the End Zone, was cool and welcoming when he walked through the door twenty minutes later. Nick was behind the bar but still in a suit, which must have meant he had some project to do with the Unity Brewery today. Landon took a seat in front of his favorite beer tap. "Didn't know you could fix up."

"From time to time. Besides-" Nick wiggled his eyebrows. "-Emma likes me in a suit."

"For reasons that continue to surprise and amaze, she seems to like you every way."

"And I'm a lucky man for it."

Nick was a lucky man. He and Emma had found each other a few months ago, when Nick tried to buy the Unity Brewery-Emma's family legacy. The two had worked it out, after quite a bit of heartache and Nick's own stubborn refusal to realize he loved Emma. But now they were engaged and planning a wedding, a state that pleased his mother and their long-term boarder, Mrs. Weston, to no end.

"So quit preening about how lucky you are and pour me a beer. Make it that summer shandy you and Emma have been bragging about."

"Absolutely."

Nick went to work on the stick, his gaze on the pilsner glass. "Mom said you had some trouble this morning."

"I'm not surprised." His words were flat-in direct contrast to the fresh, foamy beer pouring from Nick's tap-and Landon swallowed back the frustration. He loved his mother to distraction, but they hadn't seen eye-to-eye for the past few weeks. He hated how stilted and stale their conversations had become.

"About the trouble or Mom?"

The question was deliberately leading-a talent his brother had in spades-and Landon elected to focus on the easier answer. "Look, I know she's worried, but I had three different conversations with her today trying to reassure her it was under control."

Nick handed over the foamy beer. "Is it?"

"For now. The cops came pretty quickly, all things considered. Detective Rossi's set to come back tomorrow to follow up."

"Rossi? Cade caught your case?"

Landon swallowed his sip, the cool slide of beer going a long way toward calming the nerves that had ridden him all day. "No, his sister."

"No shit?"

The last of his nerves ticked away as a good laugh took its place. "You're surprised he has a sister?"

"Nah. I knew the sister part, but I had no idea Daphne had graduated to detective. Last I heard she was stuck on beat duty, managing crowds at the Barclays Center or running Sunday-morning traffic duty. Clearly the woman's got some ambition if she passed the detective's test before thirty."

Landon took in his brother's words, not for the first time impressed at the news and information Nick possessed. It was probably a toss-up whether it was Nick's own innate charm and interest in people or the steady stream of information that made its way through the End Zone. Regardless of the method, his brother always had information.

What was more curious was the spike of interest that heated his blood as he thought about Daphne Rossi stuck walking the beat. He didn't doubt her capability, but he found it hard to imagine the sharp-eyed detective had enjoyed directing people across sidewalks and breaking up fights at the arena.

And then he remembered the stubborn pride that had tilted her head just so this morning, and he understood. Anyone with a lick of ambition spent plenty of time doing the things that weren't all that appealing to get to the things that were. It spoke well of her that she'd clearly done a shit-ton of beat duty along with studying for her detective's exam.

Nick intruded on his rambling thoughts. "She's ambitious for sure. Makes Cade's family a little crazy, if I understand right."

Landon glanced over his glass. "They don't want her on the force?"